Field-dressed
New member
Just got back from an island off the Bering River mouth in the Gulf of Alaska. There were four of us, two with cow drawing permits (not me, I'm never that lucky). On the evening of the first day my partners dropped a cow and a young bull within 30 yards of each other and our hunt was over. We had just enough daylight to gut and partially skin the beasts, then stumbled back to camp on the beach. Fortunately there's no bears on that particular island. We spent the entire following day skinning, cutting, boning and packing out the meat. We were only a mile or so from camp but we had to hump through 2 expansive marshes separated by a quarter mile of dense brush. Ouch! My legs are still protesting the atrocities rendered unto them. We got picked up on Saturday in a building gale. We weren't sure if we were waiting or hoping for the flying service to show up. It was blowing about 40 kts when the 2 airplanes touched down on the beach. Thank God for skilled pilots, would have been a miserable couple days waiting for that storm to blow through. This afternoon we have the delightful task (made so through the consumption of beer) of butchering and wrapping about 700 lbs of roasts, steaks and burger. Hmmmmm...moose.
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RKBA!
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RKBA!