Thebear_78
Handloader
- Sep 30, 2004
- 3,098
- 865
I took a long weekend to do some hunting. I had a caribou draw tag for a popular central state region and headed up thursday night with a buddy of mine. The day started out very foggy and rain. After several hours of riding and glassing I spotted a nice bull about 2 miles off up on a hillside. I was able to get within a mine on the 6 wheeler before setting off on foot.
What had appeared to be an easy hike from 2 miles off was anything but when face to face. The lower area was choked with alders and devils club and made approach from below impossible. This left me with my only option to climb the very steep hillside above him and sneak in from above.
I had a solid wind at my back but by hugging close to the mountain side I was able to keep hidden while still seeing the tops of his rack and the unpredictable swirling wing kept him from getting my scent. I was able to get within 500 yards when I ran out of real-estate. The curvature of the mountain side would have made me plainly in view and there was a large stretch of steep shale that would have been nearly impossible to pass. The only cove I had was a large rock roughly the size of a kneeling man, that was just on the edge of the skyline.
The bull appeared to be feeding his way towards me and I hoped would continue along the hillside and that would bring him down in front of me at less than 200yards. I was pretty winded from my the hike thru the alders and steep sidehill stalk, so I planned to compose myself and wait for my heartrate to drop.
As I sat there the wind picked up again at my back and I noticed the bull sniffing and getting a little edgy. He started walking away and I knew that this was it, go or no go. Guessing him to b e 500-525 yards I new my rifle would be shooting 22" low, RUM shooting 168gr TTSX@ 3340fps. I settled the rifle in against the rock, Aimed about a half a caribou chest depth over his shoulder and touched it off. At the shot his off leg went limp and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that I had under guess his distance and just shot his knee out. I quickly made the adjustment and sent another one towards him. He slowly spun around facing down hill and took one step before collapsing and rolled down the hill until his anlters got hung up in some roots. My first shot had hit low in the pocket taking out the heart and blowing out the off shoulder just above the elbow. The second shot was higher and a little farther back and decimated the lungs. According to my GPS it was 1557 feet, from where I shot from to where the caribou had been standing, 519 yards.
While he isn't a monster by caribou standards its my biggest to date and also my farthest shot on game. My 300 RUM has become my go to rifle, having killed 99% of my alaskan game. Its a custom remington 700 that has been lightened and nitrided. 7 pounds 10oz loaded and slung and impervious to weather. I have a great load worked up for it and total confidence in its ability.
The recovery was equally difficult as the stalk, the incredibly rough terrain caused a couple roll overs and a lot of walking the wheelers to get within a quarter mile of the you, the rest was covered by foot. The only causalty was my pack frame, while climbing down a patch of steep loose rock I slipped and fell back, bending the bottom of my pack frame, attempts to straighten in cause the metal to crack. This kind of country is usually the home of goats or sheep, not caribou. I was expecting a nice easy flat ground hunt.
Either way it was a great day and a hell of a way to spend my birthday.
Red arrow indicates rock where shot was taken from. Standing at kills sight
What had appeared to be an easy hike from 2 miles off was anything but when face to face. The lower area was choked with alders and devils club and made approach from below impossible. This left me with my only option to climb the very steep hillside above him and sneak in from above.
I had a solid wind at my back but by hugging close to the mountain side I was able to keep hidden while still seeing the tops of his rack and the unpredictable swirling wing kept him from getting my scent. I was able to get within 500 yards when I ran out of real-estate. The curvature of the mountain side would have made me plainly in view and there was a large stretch of steep shale that would have been nearly impossible to pass. The only cove I had was a large rock roughly the size of a kneeling man, that was just on the edge of the skyline.
The bull appeared to be feeding his way towards me and I hoped would continue along the hillside and that would bring him down in front of me at less than 200yards. I was pretty winded from my the hike thru the alders and steep sidehill stalk, so I planned to compose myself and wait for my heartrate to drop.
As I sat there the wind picked up again at my back and I noticed the bull sniffing and getting a little edgy. He started walking away and I knew that this was it, go or no go. Guessing him to b e 500-525 yards I new my rifle would be shooting 22" low, RUM shooting 168gr TTSX@ 3340fps. I settled the rifle in against the rock, Aimed about a half a caribou chest depth over his shoulder and touched it off. At the shot his off leg went limp and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that I had under guess his distance and just shot his knee out. I quickly made the adjustment and sent another one towards him. He slowly spun around facing down hill and took one step before collapsing and rolled down the hill until his anlters got hung up in some roots. My first shot had hit low in the pocket taking out the heart and blowing out the off shoulder just above the elbow. The second shot was higher and a little farther back and decimated the lungs. According to my GPS it was 1557 feet, from where I shot from to where the caribou had been standing, 519 yards.
While he isn't a monster by caribou standards its my biggest to date and also my farthest shot on game. My 300 RUM has become my go to rifle, having killed 99% of my alaskan game. Its a custom remington 700 that has been lightened and nitrided. 7 pounds 10oz loaded and slung and impervious to weather. I have a great load worked up for it and total confidence in its ability.
The recovery was equally difficult as the stalk, the incredibly rough terrain caused a couple roll overs and a lot of walking the wheelers to get within a quarter mile of the you, the rest was covered by foot. The only causalty was my pack frame, while climbing down a patch of steep loose rock I slipped and fell back, bending the bottom of my pack frame, attempts to straighten in cause the metal to crack. This kind of country is usually the home of goats or sheep, not caribou. I was expecting a nice easy flat ground hunt.
Either way it was a great day and a hell of a way to spend my birthday.
Red arrow indicates rock where shot was taken from. Standing at kills sight
Very nice animal.
