Backcountry Hunters and Anglers... who's in?

[George D. Stout]

Well the fact is, ladies and gentlemen, the big game thrived in all states prior to man sticking his nose into the act and mercilessly killing big predators out of fear and selfishness.  Now we think we are the only ones that should be allowed under protection of the law.  Good grief.
I grew up in hippie times but missed the liberal hippie boat I suspect.  But maybe I am one now.

Wolves ang Grizzlies are natures way of leveling the playing field.

[saltwatertom]

I've been "in" for a while.
I've got lots I can say, but won't say much right now. I probobly could be labeled to the hippy side for my views, but I have come up with them all by my self and I don't really fit in to a slot any where, and some of my opinions are unwelcome almost anywhere. I am selfish tho, and I do want to be able to hunt and fish and let others do it after I am gone.  
Thanks to places like this and people like you all, it may happen.  

[Dave2old]

Update! I forgot to mention that I wasn't just any old hairy hippie back in 1970s Laguna Beach, but a balding, Harley-riding, bowhunting hippie! That's how I got the Queen of the Surfer Chicks to follow me first to MT, then to rural CO, where she quickly became the best elk scout and wild game cook in the West. I recommend the experience to all young men!

Seriously, AK is perhaps our toughest state for BHA goals, due to entrenched cultural and political biases. You gotta be tough to stand against those tough folks, and Mark and Dave fill the bill perfectly. In my latest trip up there a couple of years ago, a friend and I hunted with Mark and his son Keane for 11 days solid and hard ... and didn't even see a cow moose! The action of course picked up the day after we left, but I expect Murphy's Law to follow me everywhere. But the point is -- even though we didn't get a moose or even see one, we saw grizzly tracks and digs, a lone set of wolf tracks following moose tracks (lots of luck to that feller), spent an unexpected night bivouaced 2 miles from the Yukon border, while our sleeping bags and food were safe back at the little trapper's cabin we were using for base camp, 10 miles downriver. We caught grayling and built a big fire and it was one of the best nights, and hunts, of my life. We either crave true wildness and are willing to sacrifice for it, or we haven't taken our traditional hunting lives to their fullest realization. I'll see if I can figure out how to post a pic or two here. --Hippie dave

[Dave2old]

OK, here's Hippie Mark Richards on his own turf. No, I didn't post the photo wrong -- Mark has just gone permanently sideways. You know how it is with those crazy liberals!

   

[wahoo]

I'm in too. Thanks for your support Al

[Mark Richards]

Dave2old spoke of a September night we spent up near the Yukon Territory border, along the Arctic Circle, sans our camp. Thought I'd better fill in the crowd here a bit more on that .

One of those deals where you continue on into good moose country, hiking and glassing from various river bluffs, and before you know it you're past that proverbial point of no return where you figure you'll go a bit further and just set up a siwash camp. We had brought lunch and some trailmix with us, but no food other than that and no cooking gear either. (We had fully intended to just go a bit upriver that day and  return to camp .)

A bit farther up the river too was an old abandoned trappers cabin, and I thought we may be able to scavenge some food that was there, and some blankets and such. That cabin is a half mile or so off the river, through a real pretty grove of riverbottom white spruce. Flushed a nice spruce grouse on the walk in, and Dave shot an arrow at it as it was sitting 30 feet up a spruce, barely missed...lost the arrow (naturally!). We reprimanded him of course talking about what good eating that spruce hen would've been. We get to the cabin and it is completely trashed by this monster grizzly boar we'd been seeing tracks of along the river where he had been digging for Indian Potato along the gravel bars and tossing around giant 100lb rocks like they were nothing.

Amongst the broken jars, squirrel-stashed spruce cones and general mayhem we find an unbroken jar of kidney beans. And there is a usable camp coffepot we find that we can boil water in and cook the beans. We also find a roll of aluminum foil, and since we had our fishing rods and grayling were running in the river we figure on a dinner of beans and grayling roasted in tin foil.
Also found some blankets and an old worn moldy sleeping bag.

We head back upriver and somewhere along the way Dave takes an endo or slips while we're trying to lug the boat over shallows into a deep section and fills his waders and beyond. Water temp 40 degrees. Look on his face after coming out of the water: Priceless . All of us have our packs with us, and a spare change of clothes, so Dave changes and then we fish for grayling at a really neat spot where a fast riffle comes down against a bluff and into a deep pool. We pull six grayling out in the course of a half hour and go to set up a camp a half mile further up. After scavenging for driftwood I set up a tripod affair to dry clothes and hang tarp over.

We cooked the beans and roasted the grayling, put some of our lunch salami and cheese inside the gut cavity...one of those meals where you think it is among the best you've ever had in your life. I have a fond memory of watching everyone else picking the grayling flesh with their fingers, sucking on the skeletons, slurping up the beans .

Yeah, one of those nights. And somewhere out there too was Mr. Grizz. A bit of aurora came out, spent most of night talking and stoking fire to stay warm as the temps were dipping into the teens. Was darn glad when daybreak came and we could get hiking and moving again.

Here's a shot right after we set up drying Dave's clothes and got fire going. Dave on left, my son on right. Pic after that is Dave with grayling.
Best to all,
Mark
   

   

[trapper]

I just jointed, I believe in what they are doing!