Buffalo Hunting in Alaska

Buffalo Hunting (Chitina Herd, Alaska)

With only two permits awards per year to hunt the Chitina Herd, we applied and on the first try, obtained a permit. The odds of obtaining this very permit was 0.5%.

I left Fairbanks around 7:15pm heading south with no other directions to the rest of the group except a brief call and instructions that I had to park and walk across a bridge to the hotel in McCarthy. Sounded easy enough. The sky drew dark as I came into Delta Junction and worked my way down towards Paxson. Rabbits everywhere.. Must have been a good rain year... Twenty miles from Paxson, I had to slow down due to around fifty Caribou crossing the road. I gassed up in Glennallen and kept heading south to the Chitina turn off. It was nearly 11:30pm by the time reached Chitina and the bumpy two lane highway ended abruptly with with a sign that read 'One Lane Next 60miles'. Sure enough, I had heard the rumors, A one lane dirt road through the hills for the last sixty miles to town... Why don't they just pave the damn thing. I pressed on at 30mph for the next two hours and as abruptly as it begun, the road ended in a small parking lot with about six cars and 330 miles from Fairbanks. I knew I was in the right spot because the Craft's truck was there. I saw a man picking up some fire wood and I asked him if he knew where the bridge was to the hotel. I was pointed in the direction of the bridge and was told that the hotel was about a mile down that path.... That path? Why the heck can't you drive to the hotel.. who wants to book a hotel that you have to tote all your luggage too? (hindsight showed that the entire town of McCarthy was over that footbridge so just about everyone had to walk in.) I strapped on my head lamp and .44 mag to my belt and started the walk... Must be a rather large river, it was really loud and the foot bridge was around 100yards in length. I got a bit spooked after the bridge. maybe it was the sign regarding the bears and it being two in the morning.. I dunno. I just kept following the pathway until finally a mile later I arrived in McCarthy. I walked down the dirt road (downtown) and saw a sign that read like it was out of a western movie, "Ma Johnson's Hotel". I guess this is the hotel.. I walked in and and no one in sight.. just a little hand written note that said.. “Buddy Wenzel, Craft's in room 112”. Fair enough.. I wondered down the short hallway (just a rather large house with a bunch of rooms) and I could hear Dirk (Sr.) snoring... yup this is it.. I opened the door and saw and empty cot. I crashed immediately, only to wake a few hours later to the sound of a chain saw outside.

Our flight time was set for 9am so we got things rolling fairly quickly in the morning. Gathered our gear and made last minute decisions as to what would be left behind (60lb max /pp). Our pilot came and picked us up and drove us over to the airstrip where we threw everything into the back of the plane and jumped in. I hate planes, but small planes I really hate! I was afraid to move much in fear of hitting switches with my knees. We flew up valley for about 45 minutes skirting the cliffs and watching sheep run as we buzzed them. We then made several tight circles about 100 feet off the ground as the pilot scoped out the landing area.. It was a bumpy landing on the gravel bed near the Chitina River. We were here. We threw everything on the dirt and the pilot wasted no time leaving... Now we are stuck... It would probably take five days to hike to the nearest phone if you were walking hard. And of course shortly after the pilot left we realized we had forgotten some stuff... Always happens... Except this was rather important; Dr. Craft forgot his diabetic medications so we got a bit antsy and worried. But there was nothing we could do now, no satellite phone. We just have to take it easy on him and let him take his time and rest all he needs. After getting camp situated, Dirk (Sr.) layed down to rest while me and Dirk (Jr.) went for a scout. The two of them had flown around the area the day prior and had taken an aerial survey of the surroundings looking for bullafo so we knew there where at least four or five in the general proximity of camp. We walked a good four miles up the river bed uttlerly amused by how large the wolve tracks were and by the enormous grizzly bear tracks in the mud.. the claw marks were a good two and half inches from the pad so with the curve I bet they were easily over 3 1/2 inch claws. We looked hard for buffalo but could not find any. After four miles we decided to hit the shrubbery along the tree line for the walk back to camp. when we were about two miles out from camp we reached a small clearing with about a dozen or so five foot in diameter dug out beds in the sand.. these have to be where the buffalo are bedding down. We were checking each one to see how fresh they were, none of them were used since the last rain. Then I heard something and looked up, I saw a large buffalo about forty yards in front of me just staring me down. I motioned to Dirk that he was there... we were just stunned... He wasn't afraid, in fact after standing there for a few moments, we started moving around to his side in plane sight to make sure he was a male and then he quickly stepped broad side to show off his size to us.. He was huge... We decided to back off and leave him as is and walk back to camp and get Dirk (Sr.) to come take a look. We finished the eight mile trek and the three of us returned as night was falling, but could not locate the bull. We returned back to camp just as darkness fell. My legs were already a bit tired from the 12 mile walk today and if I only knew that this was going to be my easy day, I wouldn't have whined so much about it. Dirk (Sr.) crashed in his tent while me and Dirk (Jr.) sat around a camp fire for a bit and yapped a bit (mostly about his cousin, who I happened to be dating).

We got up early the next day and loaded up the rifles, Its been 24hrs since landing so its go time (Alasks law stipulates that you cannot hunt big game within 24hrs of flying in most circumstances). We walked up about a mile past where we saw the bull and Dirk (Sr.) took a rest while me and his son went into the bush to find the buffalo and then return to get his dad ( we figured it would be best way to keep his dad rested considering his lack of medication). We walked into the bush and made a sweep about a 1 1/2 miles down and then back up to his dad, but no buffalo only very fresh sign down where we turned around. It was thick, I climbed a tree and tried to get a vantage point, but still could not see.. It was just amazing how such a large animal can just disappear. After returning, all three of us made our way back to camp, via the shrubbery in hopes of seeing him a second time, to no avail. We arrived back at camp for lunch. Dirk (Sr.) took a rest while me and Dirk (Jr) scouted out the other side of camp. We made a 2 mile loop but with not fresh sign we decided that the Bull was still up in that area somewhere, we just had to widen our parameters. We walked back up the valley where we saw the bull but went the four miles we had done initially and then turned around to work the tree line like we did the first day. We walked back down into the early we were at in the morning and then continued deeper into in the brush over many small creeks with salmon and tons of bear activity. We popped out about the brush about a mile from camp. Dirk (Jr.) was a bit perturbed at the lack of Buffalo sighting for the day, and we started to head back aross the mile wide river bed to camp when I found a fresh bed and sign. I called back to Dirk to come check it out... This was fresh. I told him they were close! I followed the tracked out a ways and saw another bed and Dirk found more sign, this is good, more than one buffalo was just here...I was walking around trying to figure out which way they headed out by looking at their tracks when Dirk spotted them about 800 yards off working their way across the river bed towards our camp. I grabbed the Leica rangefinder/binoculars and sure enough, that was a big bull in the lead. I made Dirk a quick deal that I would run back and get his dad while he tried to get into shooting position himself. We wanted his dad to shoot it. I jogged parallel to the buffalo the mile back to camp and got Dirk (Sr) up and going.. I got him in a vector that would intersect the buffalo and told him where Dirk (Jr.) was in relation. I ran back down the the creek bed to Dirk (Jr.) and let him know where his dad was and then I took up position right in the middle. we worked into the bush. I stopped all of sudden when I heard the sound of horse.. It was them, they must be only fifty feet or so through that bush.. then it went quiet.. they were moving.... about thirty seconds later, I hear a shot, followed by a second, then a third... then nothing. It can from the direction of Dirk (Jr.) I worked by way over to Dirk (Sr.) then we walked down out of the brush. I could see off on the other side of the river bed about a mile off, two buffalo standing there and then one more larger buffalo in the middle of the river bed. He got it! Since I knew Dirk (Jr.) had limited rounds in his .375 H&H mag, I grabbed Dirk (Sr.)'s .300 WSM and jogged out to the scene. The Bull had passed by the time I arrived, completely drenched from crossing the river in a hurry, I congratulated Dirk (Jr.) and handed him a knife. It was nearly dark, and with no headlamps on us, the three of us had to make a walk to camp and get provisions before we could get to work on the massive animal. The day ended in the dark with about 19 miles on foot of which 2 was jogging.

Day three soon arrived and Me and Dirk (Jr) walked the mile to the downed bull in predawn hours with a backpack, diamond sharpener and seven or eight knives.. Today was to be a long one. We started the task of taking the hide, which was more than a little task with a hide nearly 2 inches thick in places. Dirk (Sr) arrived a couple hours into it and the three of us had the animal half skinned and had taken two quarters off in a few hours. Dirk (Jr) took the first load. We tied then entire hind quarter to a frame and Dirk (Sr) and me hoisted it up in on his son. I quarter was least a hundred lbs. Dirk (Jr) started to make his walk threw the river back to camp. There was no way to avoid getting wet. The river was at least mid-shin deep which put it high enough to swamp our feet with glacier water. Dirk (Sr) and me continued to work on the buffalo until Dirk (Jr) returned, I got loaded up with a quarter and started my trip while the two of them worked on the buffalo... Me and Dirk (Jr) kept switching off carry 80-100lb loads to camp with water logged boots until dark. When night fell all that was left at the downed sight was the hide and skull. I ate a quick dinner at the camp fire and had some coffee while drying out my boots... I crashed tired and sore from carrying the loads. The day ended quiety in the dark with about 8 miles on foot of which three had at least an 80lb load.

The morning came and we still had a lot of work to do. Dirk (Jr.) and myself went back down to the carcass to get the remainder of the bull. I loaded up with skull and the and the gear on my frame while he had his rifle and cape on his.. This was heavy and we still had the remainder of the hide which was about 100lbs folded up. There just was not way we could get this all in one trip. We left the rest of the hide and went back to camp. We were in a hurry because our pilot was scheduled to pick us up at ten am so we had to shuttle all the meat and camp over to the landing sight. We finished getting the gear over and ten minutes later the bush plane arrived. The Pilot was fasinated by the bull.. He mentioned that it was the largest he had ever seen and that we should get it check against the current record. Dirk (Sr.) and the meat was loaded onto the plane which left no extra weight for either our gear or Dirk (Jr) and myself. The Pilot would have come back.. we had at least an hour to get down to the carcass and get the hide now! we did just that. Dirk (Jr) and me got back to the landing sight and within fifteen minutes, the buzz of the plane could be heard and soon we were loading the truck with the spoils of a long weekend with about 31 miles on foot. I drove the 330miles back to Fairbanks with a nice big smile…

The Craft boys were excited to have their buffalo and thanked me for being the logistical planner and for pushing them to go. I am grateful to Dr. Craft for letting me plan and take part in that hunt and especially for paying my way (all I had to pay for was gas to drive down and back) and I’m fully aware that he spent thousands. He was even gracious enough to have the hide tanned and gave it to me along with several hundred pounds of the professionally processed buffalo meat.