Alaska hunting bucket list? Why wait? Fill it now with experiences

In the fall of 1970, at age 11, my "bucket list" suddenly overflowed. I am sure the phrase bucket list hadn't been coined at that point — but if it had, two items would have been in my bucket.

One was to go to Africa and hunt my way across the continent, the other involved going to Alaska and doing the same. When my dad returned from a moose hunt in Alaska that fall and announced the move from our North Dakota farm to Alaska's Kenai Peninsula, you would have been hard pressed to find a happier young fellow.

Not so much for my mother and siblings, who didn't share my passion for hunting or wild places. I did not feel their pain.

My young and inexperienced mind believed that all I had to do was get to Alaska and the rest would take care of itself. I would climb into the Wrangell Mountains and take a Dall sheep with a 40-inch rack. With a pack string of mountain-acclimated horses I would hunt the northern slopes of the Alaska Range for moose, caribou and, of course, I would take a Kodiak brown bear first thing.

Christine and I occasionally take our English setters to the Lower 48 for bird hunting. We inevitably run into other hunters, and when they find out where we're from, every one says, "Alaska is on my bucket list." When prodded about what they want to do in Alaska, they rarely have a specific activity in mind, just a desire to go.

That alone puts those of us that live here on different footing than the rest of the world. For 46 years I've had the good fortune to roam a lot of places and hunt for most everything one can in Alaska. Bison eludes me, although a bison hunt is more like winning the lottery than a bucket list item. Never hunted musk ox, either, which seems more about surviving the elements than hunting — but I have eaten them and understand why some do.

Reverse bucket list

It is a bit odd that when you talk with folks who live in Alaska and mention places or things that seem accessible, so many hunters say they haven't been there or plan to go one of these days.

It seems a lot of hunters spend all year not doing much in the way of outdoor activities as they wait for the big two-week big-game hunt.  That's too bad because they miss out on so much that can only be obtained by getting out there constantly.

Over the years I've reversed the idea of having a "bucket list" of things I want to do. For want of a metaphorical place to put such things, I suppose a bucket is as good as any. But instead of starting with it full of wants, I prefer to fill it with memories of "bucket list" things that would never have been on the list.

A few years back Christine and I were coming out of the mountains after hunting ptarmigan in the sheep country. A ways in front of us, a wolverine popped out of the brush. A moment later, another, and as we watched, frozen by the spectacle, a third came out. We had just seconds to see them before they all melted back into the cover.  The opportunity to see any wolverine in the wild is special; to see three at one time seems like fiction. But it happened, and who wouldn't want that memory in their bucket.

One early-December morning, Christine and I were walking along a frozen creek and came across fresh brown bear tracks in the powdered snow. The bear had crossed the creek and walked down it staying just out from the bank.  We followed the tracks with Christine walking right on the bear's paw prints and a few yards later, she broke through the ice. The water was shallow and the temperature just below freezing so other than damaged pride, no harm done. How can you imagine such a thing and yet, who wouldn't want that story in the bucket to pull out and tell on their hunting partner.

Early one morning several years ago, Gunner, one of our chocolate Labrador retrievers (now passed, rest his soul) and I headed out across some tidal marsh flats in pursuit of waterfowl. Movement in the distance caught my eye and binoculars revealed a gray wolf staring intently at us. Continuing to the pond we were to hunt, the wolf shadowed us and came within 150 yards.  When we settled into the cover on the edge of the pond, the wolf sat down and watched us until we left. A couple of days later Christine, Gunner and I headed to the same spot.

I had told Christine about the wolf and I think she thought I was hallucinating, until he showed up as we walked out. Again, he shadowed us and would sit and watch when we stopped and when we moved would follow along. So mesmerizing was he that duck hunting became an afterthought. The rest of the fall, we would go there as often as possible and each time there he would be. We never determined why he was there and eventually he moved on.

Extraordinary everyday things

Some years back, thanks to a certain English setter, I adopted the policy of always having a decent camera while hunting or during any other outdoor endeavor. It is a bit of a headache at times but the ability to capture the special moments that occur, for eternity, is without question, bucket worthy.

Everyday things can become extraordinary at any moment in Alaska. And so it seems, those folks who "just want to come here" may have it right. Alaska is in and of itself a "bucket list." Every day spent outdoors in Alaska has the potential of being a lifelong memory.

It doesn't have to be expensive; who doesn't have a mountain within reasonable distance that they can climb? Via social media we often have folks comment that it must be nice to be wealthy and live a life of leisure to do all the things we do. Neither of those things is true. What we have is an overwhelming love of nature and an abundance of "want to." Just get out there, anywhere away from the crowd and let things come to you. Pretty soon, that bucket will be overflowing.

Steve Meyer of Soldotna is lifelong Alaskan and an avid shooter. He writes every other week about guns and Alaska hunting. Contact Steve at oldduckhunter@outlook.com