Cold, Wild Bison

It was just past noon on our first day of hunting when suddenly Eric, my guide, stopped his snowmobile and motioned for me to move up to him. Seventy five yards from Eric, on the edge of the fir trees, stood a bison! I’d come a long way to find a truly wild bison, but something about Eric’s body language told me this wasn’t the one. I asked him if I should bring my rifle, and he gave me a look that told me this was the dumbest question he’d ever heard in his thirty-plus years of guiding. Well, maybe this was my bison!

Our Northern Alberta hunting area was covered with three feet of powdery snow, and even though my rifle was in a scabbard at the rear of my snowmobile, all of three feet away, actually getting myself there and uncasing it was not accomplished with anything resembling efficiency, grace, dignity or quiet. But that wasn’t the worst of it, because once I had the rifle in hand, I still had to struggle through about thirty yards of snow to get to where Eric stood. Lesson Number One: In this deep snow, drive the bike, don’t try to walk! But too late for that now.

It took me an exhausting minute or so to sort of wade through the deep snow and get abreast of Eric. And all this time, the bison just stood there!!

I am kind of superstitious when I hunt. First, my Dad raised me as a meat hunter, natural enough since he grew up in the Depression, so most animals look good to me. But also, I remember reading of a belief among some Native Americans that you cannot kill an animal until that animal gives you its life. And my take on that idea is that when an animal does offer its life to you, then that is the life you should take. So, while Eric looked the bison over, I was coming to believe that this bison was giving its life to me, and that it would be improper to decline this gift. Eric told me this bison was a small one, probably not a bull, and that further, the way it was standing, and the way it held its head indicated that something wasn’t right with this animal. I explained to Eric my ideas on the matter, the bison standing still the whole time. Eric mumbled something about it being my choice.

I was shooting a Ruger #1 in .30-06, loaded with 180-grain Swift Sciroccos. I’ve gotten excellent accuracy and terminal performance with this load, and Eric views .30-06 as quite adequate for bison.

The bison slumped at the first shot, and fell at the second. We approached the animal, and Eric quickly found why the animal didn’t seem right. It was a young cow, and her rear legs and flanks showed heavy lacerations. Her wounds were running pus, and she stunk horribly. Apparently, she had survived a wolf attack, but was now dying of her wounds. The herd must have helped her against the wolves initially, but most likely the attack weakened her so that she could not keep up, and she’d been abandoned.

Because of the obvious infection, we felt it necessary to simply leave her carcass to the scavengers. The meat was certainly not fit for human consumption, and we were unwilling to try to salvage the hide, given the possibility of getting nicked with a knife while skinning her, and the potential for getting an infected wound in the process. So, we gave her a ceremonial last bite of greenery, and the wolves got her after all. Next year, Eric will probably retrieve her bleached skull.

For a number of years I’ve wanted to hunt a truly wild bison. I can’t really say why this idea took hold, but I think it has to do with the size of the bison, and their somewhat prehistoric appearance. It didn’t hurt that I kept hearing how good bison meat is, either.

Near as I’ve been able to figure, there are only two or three places in the lower 48 states where such a hunt is possible. In Arizona or in Utah. I didn’t apply for an Arizona permit because it’s a spring hunt, in warm weather, and I was concerned about the meat spoiling. I’ve applied to Utah for a Henry Mountains tag for a number of years, but haven’t been drawn yet. And I understand there are also possibilities for bison just outside Yellowstone Park. There are also a number of large ranches that offer hunts for free-range bison, but those are the property of the farmer, and not legally wild animals.

Canada offers a couple more possibilities. Canada actually has two types of bison – plains bison and wood bison. In the USA, we have only plains bison. The animals are very similar, and can interbreed. The wood bison are taller and darker and heavier, but with smaller horns. A big bull wood bison stands seven feet at the shoulder, and weighs 2600 pounds, easily the largest land animal in North America. Canada has huntable populations of wood bison in two or three spots. But Americans are not allowed to bring wood bison home (although this may change). And I definitely wanted to bring home my buff! In the Spring of 2004 I read somewhere about a little bit of a loophole.

Up in Northern Alberta is a population of bison categorized as a hybrid of plains and wood bison. I’ve heard different takes on the background of these Alberta bison, so the following information may or may not be completely accurate. The history is murky.

It seems that for a time, biologists believed wood bison had been exterminated from this area. Someone, wanting bison to again roam this vast expanse of boreal forest, released some plains bison. After the plains bison had been released, a band of wood bison was found still surviving in Wood Buffalo National Park, a gigantic 45,000 square mile preserve straddling the border between Alberta and the Northwest Territories. The Park is six times the size of my home state of New Jersey! In an effort to keep the wood bison pure, the Alberta government declared bison living inside the park to be fully protected, and bison living outside the park came to be regarded as undesirable hybrids, to be exterminated in order to prevent the park’s pure wood bison from being tainted with plains bison genes.

Some biologists believe that the bison have been interbreeding forever anyway, whenever the ranges of the two varieties overlapped, such as in Ohio and Pennsylvania, and that it makes no sense to try to eliminate any trace of plains bison genes from Northern Alberta. But regardless of the biology, the politics and law of 2005 allowed bison hunting outside Wood Buffalo National Park. And because these bison are legally classified as hybrids of wood and plains bison, Americans are allowed to bring them home.

I contacted Eric Grinnell, who runs www.SilverTipOutfitters.com. Eric is both outfitter and guide, and he is one of the very, very few people who can guide you to a completely wild bison in Northern Alberta. Eric told me this would be a tough, cold hunt, and that his clients earn their bison.

We’d be hunting a remote area (in Northern Alberta, almost everywhere is remote, especially to a Jersey boy!) just west of the Park. The bison are widely scattered through a huge area of boreal forest. The bison feed mainly on sedge, a grass-like plant growing in wet areas throughout the forest. Because the bison’s territory is wet, thick and roadless, the only time they can be reached is during winter, when snowmobiles can get into the backwoods. Eric told me to expect about 1 foot of snow, and temperatures potentially ranging from about +40 degrees Fahrenheit (4 degrees Celsius) to -40F (-40C). As an Outfitter of King of the Mountain and Klar-Ullfrotte Woolens, a real attraction for me was the cold. I normally hunt near my home in New Jersey, and around here it seldom dips below 0F (-18C). I wanted to take my wool on a rugged, cold hunt!

I flew from Newark, NJ to Edmonton, and then rented a Suburban and drove about 500 miles (800 km) North to High Level, Alberta. When I arrived on March 11, 2005, Alberta was in the midst of a relative heat wave, with temperatures around 40-45F (4-7C). Warmer than in New Jersey, in fact!! Edmonton had no snow on the ground, and I didn’t see any snow at all until about 100 miles south of High Level.

High Level is an interesting town of about 5000 people. It’s located on the only paved road that connects Alberta with the Northwest Territories. High Level is a bustling little place with a Las Vegas complex. It has neon motels named after some of the Vegas hot spots. High Level sees a lot of activity related to timber and oil.

I met Eric in High Level and bought my Alberta Wildlife Card, Hunting License and Wolf License. In this part of Alberta, wolves are legal game and are considered pests by the locals, who generally shoot them on sight. Amazingly, the bison aren’t even considered game animals. They can be hunted by anyone, at any time, subject to no limits. You don’t even need a hunting license. That’s because the bison I was after are considered non-native, hybrid animals, and the government wants them removed. But the bison are scattered over such a large, remote area, it seems unlikely they’ll be exterminated by any kind of normal hunting.

From High Level we headed east maybe 100 miles (160 km), then stopped to visit a friend of Eric’s, a slight, lovely woman living alone on a horse farm. After we left, Eric explained that she is the widow of his late partner. Only about 10 weeks prior, his partner had been working on a power line project, bringing electric to a small isolated village. He’d been driving a snowmobile over an ice bridge across the huge Peace River. Somehow, he drove off the ice bridge and went through the ice, and will probably never be found. Things can go very bad very quickly in this unforgiving, frigid area.

Eric normally hunts up on an escarpment, out of a cabin he built in the woods, about 35 miles of snowmobiling from the road. But this year the cabin was inaccessible because the snow on the escarpment was 5 feet deep!! Eric had hosted another hunter a couple of weeks earlier at his "Plan B" camp, a tent camp pitched in the woods adjacent to the base of operations of the power line crew that had employed his late partner. Even in this lower area, the snow was about 3 feet deep – the snowiest winter in 30 years or so. Hip-deep snow is semi-negotiable, whereas neck-deep snow is impossible!

The tent camp wasn’t tough living at all. We had a cook tent where Eric slept, and my tent. Each tent had its own wood stove. We were tucked back in the thick woods, only about 60 yards from the nearest trailer of the power crew. Because Eric knew the crew, we were allowed to run electricity from their camp to our tents. And we were permitted use of their indoor plumbing. Eric has huge experience, over 30 years of guiding and outfitting, and he knows how to make a camp comfortable, and how to whip up some terrific food.

The temperature had dipped back down more or less where it should be. Eric kept an outdoor thermometer at camp, and for the 10 days of my stay, the temperature ranged from a high of about 20F (-7C) down to a low of about -15F (-26C). Eric had told me that dry cold doesn’t feel as cold as wet cold, and I’d heard this from a few other people as well. I didn’t believe it, but it’s true. Especially in the shelter of the thick forest, where the breeze hardly stirred, it sure seemed warmer than the camp thermometer reading.

On the bison hunts, Eric believes in sleeping in a little. In mid-March there were already about 14 hours of daylight, so there was no worry about short days limiting our hunting. We had an energy-loaded, leisurely breakfast Monday morning, as we did every morning, and then headed out to hunt.

We drove about an hour east of camp, and it was time to switch to snowmobiles. I had never ridden before, but would be learning! Luckily, the machines are quite easy to operate; tho it does take some practice to become proficient, particularly in deep powder!!

I was wearing one layer of Ullfrotte thermals (600 gram top, 400g Long Johns, 800g socks) and King of the Mountain’s Standmaster Jacket System and Standmaster Bibs, along with KOM’s Gaiters, Full-Fingered Wool Gloves and a Scout Hat. Eric stressed that a snowmobile suit was critical, so I wore a Helly Hansen waterproof shell over the whole thing. It soon turned out that I was too warm, and removed the Standmaster Outer Jacket.

I had imagined that riding a snowmobile was somewhat less vigorous than it turned out to be. I was expending a LOT of energy trying to keep the machine upright and on the trail, and me on top of it. Part of this was because of my inexperience, but partly also because we were riding rough trails. Our machines were not built to handle three feet of snow. After a number of passes over the same spot, the trail became pretty easy to handle. But earlier in the going, the machines tended to bog down often (mostly due to my clueless riding, but it happened to Eric also), and once the machine got hung up or spilled, it took a lot of grunting and heaving to get going again. Also, in 3 feet of snow, every single step is a battle! I began to get the hang of the bikes, little by little.

Years ago, oil exploration crews had cut seismic lines through the forest. The lines are about 15 feet wide, and generally run North-South or East-West, defining the forest into multi-mile rectangles. Without these lines, the buff would have been inaccessible, for the forest was too thick to allow any but the slowest progress. Our method of hunting would be to travel the seismic lines, looking for fresh tracks. Once we cut some good looking tracks, we’d follow up on foot. At least, that was the way Eric had always done it before. But there had never been nearly this much snow before, either.

For several hours I followed along behind Eric as best as I could. Occasionally Eric would stop and point out lynx tracks or lynx sign posts. It was the lynx breeding season, and lynx sign was widespread. We also saw wolverine tracks that first day. Moose tracks were common, and we cut old bison tracks too.

It’s easy to tell bison tracks from anything else in this deep snow. The bison plow through the snow, and their passing leaves a furrow. The moose, with their amazingly long legs, merely leave tracks.

After a few hours, we came across the ailing bison described at the beginning of the story.

We still had plenty of daylight left, and it was time to find a healthy bison. I decided to see if the snowsuit was really necessary, or if my KOM wool was enough. I stowed the snowmobile suit and never felt a need for it the rest of the trip.

Eric had told me the biggest reason a snowsuit was needed was the fact that snow was guaranteed to get all over your legs, obviously, and to get onto the seat of the bike, and that it would surely melt as I sat on it, eventually getting me wet. I checked often, and Eric was right in that the seat of the bike was wet, and would freeze as soon as I got off it for a few moments, but the moisture never penetrated my wool, as far as I could feel. I was very glad to be out of the snowsuit!! And I was pleased with the water-resistant properties of my wool!

We continued to hunt, busting trails through the deep powder, me following Eric. I dumped the bike often, and struggled to dig out and get back under way. By 5PM or so, I was just plain whipped. Out of gas, nothing left. Not a good feeling. Not the pleasant kind of tired, or the tired-but-still strong feeling that inspires confidence. I was more than ready to call it a day!! Eric coaxed another half-hour or so out of me, and I gritted along as best I could, reminding myself that Eric, at 56, was 5 years older, and so I ought to be able to keep up with him. We saw a lot of beautiful country, but no fresh bison sign. We headed back toward the truck, a long two hours away.

I must say, Eric’s wonderful camp dinners were something to really look forward to at the end of the day. We had dinner probably 10:30PM, with some fine red wine, and believe me, I was ready for it!!

On Tuesday we got a later start, partly because of some vehicle trouble and partly because I was so sore!! My hands, shoulders, back .... every part of me, after only one day!! Eric told me that he was sore and tired too. I don’t know if it was really true, or if he was just trying to make me feel better. He said he’d lost 10 pounds on his February bison hunt, and I believed him. On my hunt, I also lost a good 10 pounds, and tightened my belt two notches. I didn’t mind a bit that we spent a couple of hours laying in the supply of fire wood for the week. I was more in shape for this kind of work, and, in this cold, a good supply of logs next to the stove each night looked better than a fat wallet. Tuesday afternoon we tried a different route of accessing the areas where Eric believed the bison would be, but the snow was just too deep and we had to turn back before we’d gone very far at all.

Wednesday morning I dressed in two layers of Klar-Ullfrotte, with Bunwarmers and a Bushman Shirt over the top. Also completely vital were my King of the Mountain Gaiters. I wore my Ullfrotte tucked into my boots, the Bunwarmers hanging outside the boots, and the gaiters preventing snow from coming up the bottom of the Bunwarmers. I can’t overemphasize the importance of gaiters in 3 feet of snow. During the entire trip, I never got the smallest bit of snow into my boots, which were only 10-inches tall. I wore the gaiters with the buckle toward the outside of my feet, so that I wouldn’t step on the loose end of the strap. The gaiters required no adjustments during the day. I just put them on in the morning, and took them off at the end of the day. By that time they were caked with snow and ice, but nothing penetrated. Each night I hung them in my tent, and each morning they were dry and ready for wearing.

As usual, we drove east from camp about an hour on a well-maintained dirt road. Then we turned off onto logging roads, heading more or less north for maybe 15 miles, until the logging roads petered out.

We headed into the woods, and headed UP, like we did each day, for about 2 hours and 20 miles and 2000 feet. At one point, we came to the top of a long steep hill, and while we enjoyed the view and had lunch, I remember thinking that I’d be impressed if the bikes could make it back up that hill on the way out!! Well, we covered a lot of ground, and I started to feel a little like a snowmobile guy. On the way back out, we came to that big hill again. We tried a few times, but couldn’t quite make it back up. Eric declared we’d have to build a switchback through the forest to make it to the top of the hill. Being that it was already about 8PM, and that I was already bushed, I wasn’t thrilled with this development. But, as Eric emphasized, "We have to." Yeah, a night in the woods at 20 below zero (-29C) didn’t sound very appealing. So we got to it.

Now, remember, we’re trying to work in 3 feet of snow, in thick forest, on a steep hillside, and it’s getting dark. What did I know about building a snowmobile switchback under these conditions? I only knew that I don’t like the idea of it!! But, we got busy. First we had to sort of tromp down a bit of a trail, gradually angling up the hill. Eric told me to go ahead some, break out a trail, and look for a place to make a turn and angle back toward the road. Easier said than done, that’s for sure. After about two hours of tromping, stomping, chain sawing, hand sawing, snowmobile pushing, snowmobile pulling and just plain gut busting, the switching-back was done, and we had both bikes on the main trail, just past the crest of the hill. That was some good piece of work!

Eric broke out some refreshments, and we added some quick calories for the haul out. We still had about 2 hours on the trail in front of us. I was pleased to see the Northern Lights playing above – first time I’d ever seen the Aurora Borealis, and one of the things I’d really hoped might make an appearance! I was very impressed, but Eric said it was nothing compared to what shows sometimes.

I could tell it was pretty cold, well below zero, certainly, but I don’t know how cold. Each night, as we made our way down the plateau and toward the truck, you could feel the temperature rising as we gave up altitude. This particular night, we had taken my rented Chevy, which had a thermometer on the dashboard. It felt absolutely balmy at the truck, and the temperature was 2F (-17C). Up on the plateau, 2000 feet higher, it must have been 15 or 20 below (-25C or -29C). Again, I was extremely pleased with my wool!!!

Thursday was a kind of a rerun of Wednesday. A long day of snowmobiling. A lot of the time we were hunting it was snowing. About 10 inches of powder was added to the already deep snow during my stay.On Thursday we decided that we’d take Friday off from hunting for snowmobile maintenance, and to head into town for groceries, gasoline and wine. I was glad for the rest. I was sore everywhere, and tired from top to bottom, mentally and physically.

Back in High Level we enjoyed some leisurely time in a restaurant, and a chance to phone home. Eric met with an Alberta Provincial biologist who’d done an aerial bison survey a week or so prior. Eric told the biologist about the wolf victim we’d dispatched, and the biologist said he’d seen that bison, and would have landed and put the animal down himself, if he’d been flying a chopper instead of an airplane.

During Friday night dinner, Eric’s "pet" weasel spent quite a bit of time with us. Most nights, the weasel made quick dashes around the tent, snatching bits of meat that we’d put out for it. But this night, the weasel gave me the opportunity for some good photos. The weasel was phenomenally quick. He didn’t seem very afraid of us, maybe because he thought we were too slow to catch him. He was probably right about that, although he had nothing to fear from us anyway. Eric claimed a weasel is a good thing to have in camp, because he will keep all other vermin away.

Saturday at breakfast Eric was very upbeat, "Today we get a buffalo ..... MAYBE!", he said a few times. Well, Saturday was similar to the other days. A lot of long snowmobiling through beautiful territory. More snow fell off and on. We went farther than before, and began to see some fresh bison sign. We came across some fresh tracks, and followed for 50 yards or so through the trees. But even with the bison breaking trail, we soon realized that the snow was just too deep for us to make any real progress. We mounted up and headed deeper into the forest to explore some lakes we hadn’t checked yet.

The bison’s favorite food is sedge, a family of marsh plants related to grasses. Sedge grows around the perimeter of lakes and marshes, and provides the bison with excellent nutrition. Eric’s clients have taken all their bison in February and March, and it is normal for the bison to still be carrying fat. The cold does not seem to bother them at all, given adequate food.

We came out on a large lake and immediately saw very fresh bison feeding sign along the shorelines. The bison push the snow aside with their heads to reach the dried sedge below. In a year with normal snowfall, this is a lot less of a chore than in 2005, with all the "extra" snow. Even so, it hardly seems like it could be worth the effort. The sedge seemed pretty similar to straw, which explains why a bison’s stomach can weigh over 200 pounds!

We spent some time following the bison sign, trying to find the bison themselves, but to no avail. After a few hours of being just behind our quarry, the sun began to set, and we had no choice but to call it a day. But at least we knew where to start in the morning!!

On the way back to the truck, Eric decided to take a detour and check the edges of a large lake that we had crossed earlier. The lake had an irregular shoreline, and most of it was hidden from sight until we rounded a point. Suddenly, there they were – a herd of about 16 or 17 bison!!! Some of them were looking at us, but mostly, they didn’t seem to care a bit that we were intruding on their evening meal. A couple of the bison were lying down in the snow, completely unimpressed and uninterested. Most likely, these animals had never encountered humans before. And being bison, they don’t try to run from danger anyway. Their only real concern is a wolf pack, and they can’t outrun wolves.

So, the bison stood there as Eric and I looked them over, trying to figure which one to shoot. As Eric explained to me later, this was the largest group of bison he’d ever seen. Previously, a group of seven calves and cows was the most he’d encountered. This group was unusual in that it was a mix of cows and bulls, all about the same size, with no calves at all. A group like this should have had calves. We think that the calves had been unable to survive this particularly harsh winter, with all the deep snow, and had either starved or been taken by wolves.

Finally we settled on one bison near the right side of the group. It was giving us a good broadside look, and seemed to have the biggest horns ... at least the left horn, anyway. The range was 200 yards or so ... and "my" bison dropped at the shot.

I started snapping pictures as we waited for the bison to make the next move. After a few minutes of nothing happening, we both got on Eric’s big bike, hoping that a close approach would cause the herd to move off, which they did, a couple of hundred yards or so.

When we approached my bison, Eric was shocked to find that it was a cow, not a bull!! She had one massive horn on her left, which had fooled us, and one little curly horn on her right side. She still had some life left, and a shot in the neck ended it for her.

Eric likes all of his clients to take a good bull, so he was not happy, although I didn’t mind having taken a cow. As mentioned, I’m a meat hunter, and I was looking at a lot of steaks just then. But Eric had previously told me he wanted a bison for meat for his family, and now he suggested that, if I wanted, I could shoot another bison from the herd, hopefully a bull this time, so that I could bring home a better set of horns, and he’d take the cow. Eric’s previous hunter had shot a bull big enough for Boone and Crockett!

So, picking out what seemed like the biggest animal, I fired again, and he dropped. As we made our way to him, the herd moved off, and he regained his feet. We stopped, and I fired again, but he didn’t seem to notice. Eric told me to hit him in the neck, and that put his lights out.

We took some pictures, and settled down a bit, and now it was time to get to work! Even one bison is a lot of work, but we had two bison down, and the sun was pretty well down.

Our task for tonight was to skin the top half of each bison, remove the front leg, remove the ribs, and then remove the entrails. This is a far cry from field dressing a Jersey whitetail!! Luckily, we had a clear night with plenty of moonlight, and after about three hours of steady work between the two of us, we finished enough of the field dressing chores to leave the bison for the night. Eric set up a scare crow to keep the ravens off the carcasses, and we left a couple of articles of clothing around to make sure any wolves stayed away. Eric was confident these measures would provide protection against ravens and wolves, but wolverines were a concern. Luckily, no wolverines found our bison.

It was around 2AM when we finally made it back to camp. I was bushed and ready for sleep, but Eric insisted on a fine dinner, with plenty of wine! I can’t say that I didn’t eat and drink my share, and then some!! I don’t think either of us really got moving until at least 10 AM on Sunday, even though we still had a LOT of work to do!

On Sunday, we returned to our bison to complete the field dressing. Much to Eric’s surprise, the bison hide was pretty well frozen to the bison, especially on my bull. Eric had expected the fur and snow to provide enough insulation that the fur wouldn’t have frozen solid, but, especially on my bull, it did. This was probably because the night temperatures were well below zero Fahreheit, but also because the bison were in the open, and a steady wind had been blowing.

It was a long, tough job getting the frozen hides off the carcasses. If Eric wasn’t a semi-tireless guy, it wouldn’t have gotten done. It took us about 8 hours, probably. I was still wearing my two layers of Ullfrotte, under my Bushman and Bunwarmers. Today, I’d decided to bring along a Beavertail Vest, and, after a time on the wide-open lake, exposed to the wind, it sure felt good over my Bushman. I especially like the big collar on the Beavertail, which provides a great deal of protection. Once I was in the Beavertail, it seemed like somebody turned up the heat!!

One thing I didn’t realize until we worked with the bison is just how flat, or "slab-sided", as Eric called it, they really are. They stand up to 7 feet tall at the shoulder, but the rib cage is surprisingly narrow. Perhaps this is an adaptation to enable such a large creature to thread its way through the thick forest. The shape of the bison makes them very difficult to turn over. It’s nothing like rolling a deer or even a moose – more like trying to flip a 1000 pound manhole cover. The two of us had to work together to get it done....barely.

We skinned and chopped and cut until well after dark, loaded some meat and one of the hides onto the sleds, and headed back to the truck. Unfortunately, the snowmobile towing the heavier load, with the meat, couldn’t make it up one of the hills, so we had to leave the meat there, and got only my bull’s head and hide out. The head and hide probably weighed something like 150 pounds, and frozen and ungainly as it was, you couldn’t exactly pick it up. Handling it was more like wrestling. Again, we made it back to camp late, about 1AM, and tired as tired could be. And again, Eric insisted on fixing an A-1 dinner before we called it a night. It was a real pleasure to sit down to a fine dinner with some excellent wine after another long hard day of work in the cold.

On Monday, my last full day in camp, we took a different way in, avoiding any steep hills. It took almost four hours to get to the bison, 27 miles from the truck. We loaded up the sleds with as much meat as possible, but were unable to fit everything. About 2/3 of the way back to the truck, we stopped for a hot lunch.

It’s a snap to build a fire in these forests because the fir trees are loaded with easy to light, hot-burning tinder, and the lower branches are often dead, providing good fuel for a campfire.

A hot lunch, with some hot cocoa, is very refreshing after hours of cold snowmobiling. We got under way again, crossing the frozen Wentzel River twice on the way out. I thought of Eric’s partner, washed away under the Peace River, and was glad the Wentzel is just a trickle, compared to the half-mile wide Peace River. It took us a full 8 hours to make the round trip to the bison ... about 27 miles each way. For the first time, we were out of the woods before dark.

Over a dinner of grilled steaks and all the fixings, I reminded Eric that I needed to be on my way home the next day, and that if I was to help him with the last load of bison meat, we needed to get a VERY early start. He just grinned at me and drank some more wine. In the morning, Eric insisted it’d be no problem for him to make the last trip himself. I really didn’t like the idea of him going so far into the forest alone, but I think he was looking forward to having only himself to worry about, and to be free of his hosting and guiding duties. This was his 10^th day of hosting me, so he was probably happy seeing me on my way, though he certainly did nothing to give me that idea.

One interesting final note was that on the drive back to Edmonton, I learned Eric is a bit of a local celebrity. About 100 miles from bison camp, I stopped for gas, and got into a conversation. The gent running the gas station was interested to hear that I had been hunting bison, and asked if I’d been hunting with Eric Grinnell! A little later, I was talking to a Mountie who was also interested in hunting, and when I mentioned that I’d been hunting bison with Eric Grinnell, he knew that Eric was the owner of Silvertip Outfitters. It seems that a large percentage of the people in Northern Alberta hunt, and most of them want to take a bison. And just about all of them are aware that Eric is pretty much the only person who knows how to hunt the scattered groups of bison in their remote and unforgiving home.

All in all, the hunt was great, and I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to find a wild bison for themselves.

Just as important, for me, was the test of my wool. I was extremely happy with the performance of my Klar-Ullfrotte and my King of the Mountain. I felt as if I had some kind of armor protecting me from the cold and the snow. The stuff was just amazing. I didn’t feel bulked up at all. In fact, I didn’t feel like I was wearing a whole lot more than normal, but I was comfortable in long hours in severe cold, and wore the same clothing in 60F (16C) in the truck. I probably wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t done it myself.

Also, despite some very heavy physical labor, I was able to wear the same Ullfrotte thermals the entire hunt, even sleeping in them every night, and they never picked up any odor.

Here is a rundown of the clothing I wore during this hunt. The performance of all of it really knocked me out! Hard physical work generates a lot of its own heat, and so I wore King of the Mountain’s unlined 26-ounce Omnitherm wool outerwear, bolstered with a double-layer of thermals. Most of the time I wore:

• Bunwarmer Pants
• Bushman Shirt
• Gaiters
• Scout Hat. The warmth of the Scout Hat was augmented by the goggles and noise mufflers that were necessary for riding the snowmobiles.
• Full-Fingered Wool Gloves
• Two layers of Klar Ullfrotte Thermals and Klar Ullfrotte Arctic Socks. The thermals were tremendous, and one feature was a real surprise. The Turtlenecks have a "Monkey Paw" sleeve that comes down over half of your hand, and are held in place when you put your thumb thru the hole in the Monkey Paw. This extra length totally protects your wrist and upper hand, and, when you are wearing gloves, makes a tremendous difference in keeping your hands warm
• Sorrel Pack Boots with Removable Felt Liners

I used some other gear at times, and I brought along some items that would have been vital if we’d been forced to spend a night out in the woods:

• Sometimes, mostly at the end of the day for the long ride out, I put Gauntlet Mittens over my Gloves. My bike didn’t have heated handles, and the Gauntlets really warmed up my cold hands. The Wool Gloves, by themselves, are not intended for the temperatures I was experiencing
• I wore my Standmaster Jacket System, but found it was too warm for the vigors of the hunt. I did wear the Standmaster Jacket one night on the ride out, and really liked that I could snap the cuffs tight. With my hands up on the handlebars, the loose cuffs funneled the wind into the Jacket, but tightening the cuffs eliminated that draft
• The first morning of the hunt, I wore Standmaster Bibs, but they also were too warm. I didn’t expect riding a snowmobile to be such hard work! If I’d known I’d be generating body heat, I would have packed my Standmaster Outfit for emergency, but worn something else from the start
• One afternoon, I wore the Standmaster Liner without the Jacket. The liner provides plenty of warmth, but it’s designed for loft, not wind resistance, so I needed to put something over it to cut the wind
• While we were skinning out our bison, I wore my Beavertail Vest. The Beavertail was great protection from the constant, cold wind out on the lake where the bison fell, and it provided total freedom of movement during skinning. The Beavertail has a big collar, and I flipped it up to keep the wind off my neck and jaw
• I wore the Bomber Hat some. The Bomber is actually the hat I intended to wear the whole hunt. I usually wear the Bomber over our Logo Cap because I like the tremendous warmth of the Bomber, but I usually also like a hat with a long bill like a baseball cap. And the Logo Cap does add considerable warmth. But I misplaced the Logo Cap (found it when I was packing up to leave!) and without it, my Bomber was a little big. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the Scout Hat provided all the warmth I needed, even though the Scout is not really our severe-cold Hat
• It got pretty chilly in my tent most nights, down to 15F (-9C) when I let the stove burn low, and I really appreciated the Klar-Ullfrotte Luva, which I wore as a nightcap for sleeping

If you’d like to go find a bison that’s never seen a human before, you can get in touch with Eric Grinnell at (403) 256-5018, www.SilvertipOutfitters.com, or email at silvertiphuntfish@shaw.ca. Eric also guides for bear, moose and trout fishing. He is one of the founders of the Alberta Professional Outfitter Society, and has been guiding for over 30 years. He knows what he is doing.