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Well, I had enough people bugging (pun not intended....but this was Alaska after all) me to write a story about this hunt....and with late winter doldrums, I finally got this done.


February 2018 found me at my mother’s house in the Bitterroot where I was wolf hunting when the Alaska draws came out. Little did I know, I had drawn an Alaskan rifle elk tag on Afognak Island along with my old college friend and hunting buddy. Weeks later the ADFG sent me a letter warning that these elk could reach 1200+ pounds, to which I initially scoffed. Little did I know how true this would be.

Fast forward to late September. The day before the opener we were grounded in Kodiak due to weather…so we couldn’t fly in until opening day and subsequently not hunt until the day after. This was a bummer since our research had indicated that whomever gets into the herd first gets the shot, then the herd breaks up and goes into no man’s land.

Opening day we flew into the bush and after setting up our main camp we decided to climb the ridge to our east to A) get away from the bugs and B) hopefully locate the herd and bivy on top of them, ready to pounce the next day. We soon found out how frustrating the brush is on that island. Well we found the herd a few miles away down near the ocean with the bulls bugling like crazy. These Roosevelt elk were so massive they honestly looked like quarter horses down there. We slept on the mountaintop that night, sans bear fence, eager to get into the elk the next day.

The next day is was raining something fierce, so we decided to go back to our main camp to get better prepared and set up an actual spike camp closer to the elk instead of bivy camping like we did the evening before. The remainder of day two was spent hiking closer to the elk in the pouring rain, and finding a spot to spike camp.

The morning of day three was clear skied. Perfect. We got ready and hiked up several hundred yards to a pass that the elk had been on the other side of. Luckily, they had not moved too far from the pass and were in a great spot for a stalk. We spotted a herd bull and formed a plan. I belly crawled into range as my buddy hiked a couple hundred yards further along the ridge to where another herd bull was bugling. I set up, jacked a round in the chamber and waited for my buddy to shoot. I was anxious to yank the trigger, but didn’t want to mess up this golden opportunity to get two bulls down. This was my view for several agonizing minutes. The bull I have my sights on is on the left.


Minutes later my buddy shoots. The herd I am looking at goes on alert and starts looking his way when BOOM! I squeeze off a round and hear the unmistakable thwaaak of the bullet hitting home at 238 yards. The bull stood there like I hit him with an airsoft pellet instead of a .30 cal 200 grain old style speer grand slam. I jacked another round in and BOOM! The bull then collapses. My goodness we got two herd bulls on the ground!

I walk up to my bull: a solid 5x6 and honestly as big as my 16 hand quarter horse. Twice the body size of any Rocky Mountain bull I have killed. I guess the ADFG wasn’t joking or exaggerating about the size of these elk…



I head over to see my buddy’s bull, which was a 6x6 with some broken tines, but the same sized frame. AWESOME!
We had noticed a bear down the valley earlier, and had been keeping our eye on it. After we had the bulls down and were admiring them, we notice it’s about a half mile away and headed our way:


We sit tight and watch. When the bear gets to about 200 yards, the yelling begins, along with a shot a few feet in front of him. No reaction. Finally, he wanders off. No problem, but we gotta be cognizant. “I’ll stand guard while you butcher”, I said. I felt like I was back in Fallujah standing there, keeping watch. An hour later, the bear reappears 60 or so yards away. The screaming happens again, as well as another shot. He disappears for a while, then he suddenly shows up 30 yards behind me. OK……We can take a hint so we got the heck out of his way. Luckily we had just finished deboning my buddy's elk and had hauled the meat bags up the hill away from the carcass. The bear got to the several hundred pound carcass and jerked it under a tree without any trouble whatsoever. Talk about brute strength!. Knowing the bear was happy with his 5 star meal, I too was happy knowing he’d be content for a while and allow us to get my bull deboned and haul all the meat bags back to base camp.


We stashed the meat up on top of the ridgeline, a few hundred yards uphill of where we last saw the bear, then proceeded over to my elk, and started deboning it. We finished deboning my bull and got all the meat up to the saddle above spike camp right as it was getting dark. What a day!


We then spent the next 4 days straight hauling the meat back to base camp. I’ve packed meat out a lot further, but the bugs and brush on this island and the sheer amount of meat made this pack out a bit rough...but I have always enjoyed the work that goes into packing meat so I was enjoying the hell out of it despite the weather, bugs and brush. We saw a few more bears, but none gave us any more trouble, thankfully.

I ended up eating a deer tag, but that’s OK. I could have shot a few, including one pretty nice buck the first day, but have no regrets. As much as I enjoyed the whole deal, the float plane ride out couldn’t have come any sooner, nor the shower and pizza that was waiting for me in Kodiak. I told myself that I wouldn’t be applying for this tag again…due to the bears, brush and bugs, but that all went out the window a day or so later, once the pain and soreness went away. I’d do it again in a heartbeat…

Then, on home to Wyoming for moose, elk, deer and antelope…never a dull moment…