Shirl White writes, "I just couldn’t believe it! Nearly two years of planning and preparation and I was finally hunting in Canada roughly two thousand miles from home. But that’s not the unbelievable part. This is! Mike, our camp host, just informed us that in the last ten years rarely have they dealt with weather this bad, this early in the season, and it could make for a tough hunt eh? After such a long wait and so much anticipation for this once in a lifetime hunt, with brothers and friends, the words that Mike spoke were devastating to me. Oh no I thought. Why us? Why our group? After saving up and investing so much time and effort to get here that’s not what I wanted to hear. My mind became flooded with memories of much lesser trips that nasty bad weather had spoiled. I hoped my concerns were unwarranted, and somehow, someway, especially this time, things would work out no matter what Mother Nature sent our way.

Many people are probably aware that when booking a hunt for Caribou it’s usually possible to acquire two tags. And you may also know that a popular strategy is to quickly find a decent bull and fill one tag, so as not to go home empty handed. Then, you can concentrate on finding a bigger or more respectable second animal. I was truly beginning to appreciate this philosophy. I was in my third day of a six day hunt and only a couple of the guys had taken bulls. The weather was about as terrible as it could be and still allow us to get out and search the tundra for signs of life. The wind had been blowing very hard right from the get go, pelting us relentlessly with snow, sleet and freezing rain. So far, Mike was right, it was a tough hunt. Making matters even worse was my attempt to use a bow to try and find that first caribou nice enough to fit the bill. Over all, the animals had become scarce and they did not seem to be moving under such brutal conditions. We had to persevere. Giving up would not be an option.

It was Wednesday morning and I was with my brother Martin and one of the guides. Martin was one of the fortunate ones that had harvested a good animal the day before. So today I would have the first chance if we could find the bou. We took a small boat across the water to the far side of the lake opposite from the cabin that we were staying in. I had swapped out my bow for my rifle hoping this would improve my odds by allowing shots at a greater distance. Once we beached and secured the boat, I followed our guide up a slight slope, through a stand of trees, and out the other side. He turned to me and motioned me forward. He then said hurry, get in position and be ready for a shot. I did and he said shoot! I quickly scanned the horizon and found four bulls moving from left to right at about 250-300 yards. There wasn’t much time to size them up and I was unable to make an on the spot decision whether I wanted one of these or not. My guide seemed overly excited. I felt like he thought I was crazy for not just pulling up and firing away. My problem was that I wanted to be sure I at least took one that would be a fair representation for the known quality that was there. Boy! What to do? I know I asked at least two or three times, "Are any of them really good ones?" I want to be sure. Judging them was difficult. I had never seen them in the wild before. Looking through my scope one appeared larger than the others, but something seemed a little odd about his antlers. Within seconds they were over a rise and out of sight. My guide looked as if he wanted to choke me. I then asked again if any of them were good enough. He said he believed the one would have been, but it was too late now they were gone. Well, being naïve and persistent I said lets go get him, and was told you can try but you’ll never catch them. That’s all I needed and I was off and running. After cresting the hill, I was surprised to find the four caribou had slowed to graze before going over the next rise that would have ensured their safety. Again there was no time to waste. I found a small sapling tree, bent it over for a dead rest, dropped to my knees, caught what I could of my breath, steadied my gun and fired. I heard the pop, but the bull was still standing. I reloaded, fired again and was low. By this time I realized the wind and distance was more of a factor than I first thought. So I made an adjustment and the third shot finished the job. Wow! I finally got my first caribou. As for the antlers, part of the velvet was tattered and hanging all over giving them a strange look at a distance. He was not a monster, but definitely one I was completely satisfied with. Arriving back at camp things got even better when we found out a total of five other bulls were harvested despite the uncooperative weather throughout the day.

The next two days offered more of the same. The gale force winds would just not let up. This created the most extreme conditions yet. Getting another bull was going to be a real challenge. However, I was still hopeful that I could fill my second tag. I stayed positive as we battled the elements searching everywhere for another good prospect. I knew that being here for the very first time could also be my last. We tried in vain, but were unable to find anything Thursday or Friday and determined it wasn’t meant to be.

Saturday, the last day, was finally here. Actually, suddenly here was my perspective. I couldn’t believe how fast the week had gone by. In some ways it felt more like one long day instead of a whole week. Never the less the guides were to take those of us out, who had not been able to fill a second tag, one last time. There were ten of us total and five that still had tag number two. The other five packed their belongings and got on the float plane heading back to civilization. It was about a two hour flight one way. That left four hours for the rest of us to give it one last shot.

This day had already started out better than the last. We were able to spot a small band of caribou at day break about a mile away. We went after them but could not catch them. We then made our way back to the area where I had taken my first one three days ago. The weather was more tolerable, but still cold. After hunting there for three hours the realization of the hunt ending was setting in as the guide said, "Lets go and we’ll hunt all the way back to camp." We started that direction as I turned back one last time and panned my surroundings. At first I wasn’t sure what I saw. Was I really seeing what looked like a herd of caribou? A good herd. No. A great herd. After the stunned feeling subsided a bit I noticed my eyes were not just playing tricks on me. It truly was a great big herd. There were hundreds. In the past this is what I had imagined while contemplating a hunt in Canada. Up until this point I had not even come close to seeing anything of this magnitude. It was awesome! And now with very little time left we had to act. We tried to sneak over to them, but as we did, it pushed them away and off to our left side. That forced us to back track and use a group of trees for cover while we flanked them and hustled up a pretty steep hill through deep drifted snow to get close enough for a shot. Once again, I was winded trying to catch up to my target. And again I went through all of the necessary motions to get off a good shot, only this time I had my shooting stick and was almost one hundred yards closer. I connected on the very last bull in the line that passed closest to me. What a conclusion to an incredible adventure I thought! For me this was an outstanding last day, last minute bull. He was older and larger than my first one with super heavy headgear and lots of mass on top. His back points on both sides are thick and stretch way back and hang over like whale tales seen on many elk racks. He won’t break any world records, but is a fantastic second tag bull that I was very fortunate to harvest. Best of all are the memories of hunting with my friends and brothers, Mark and Martin, who all took really nice trophies of their own. Ultimately, it was well worth it to hunt with our neighbors’ way up north. I would do it again if I could, even with bad weather that could make for a tough hunt eh?"