We planned hard the rest of the week but at the last minute decided the quarter inch every twelve hours rain was not appealing for camping out, and cancelled.
"The ferry schedule is the same next week so lets do it then," Matt informed me after the cancelled trip.
We boarded the ferry at noon with Matt's truck, a friend, Richard, and Matt's two little boys. It was a nine hour ferry ride to the Island of Kupernof, a sprawling South East Alaska Island, covered with brush and old growth trees.
Hooters are grouse that are in the mating season. They perch in the high branches of Hemlock, Spruce, or Ceder trees and "Hoot" for a mate. They will hoot endlessly for days perched on the same branch until a hen displays herself as the chosen one.
It sounded so easy while sipping coffee and eating donuts in the bakery next door.
"You listen for them to hoot and then sneak up on them and shoot them out of the tree," Matt had informed me.
"Cool," I replied, not having a clue what I was getting myself into.
We were also taking some fishing poles to try for some steelhead in the streams that meander across the island. A one trip do it all. How simple.
On the ferry ride Richard informed me of his past hooter hunting experiences. This guy is an avid goat and Dall sheep hunter, so when he talked about hiking 12,000 feet up mountains to find the hooters I began to question my judgment.
"We hunted out of Hanes Alaska and the hooter would be way up in the alpine and on top of the ridges and clear at the top of the tallest trees. Very hard to spot," he casually commented. Hmmm.....
After a 10:00 pm ferry arrival, we hurried off to bed. We awoke at daylight and I took Hali out for her morning potty run. Hoot, hoot, hoot. I could hear all around us in the heavy forest. Hooters!
I came back in all excited. We quickly packed our gear and wedged ourselves in the truck. It was drizzling rain as we drove the back roads in search of Hooters.
Matt stopped the truck and we listened out the rolled down windows. In the far distance we could hear the hoot of several grouse.
"Too far away," Richard informed us. He knew how loud they should be to be close enough to pursue.
We drove up the road to the next place and heard much louder hoots.
"Let's go for that one," we all said.
We grabbed a couple of .22 rifles and Matt's son brought his youth 20 guage shotgun. Hali was beside herself as we headed out into the bush.
Thick brush and heavy laydown logs greeted us once inside the timber. We climbed, bucked brush, and crashed our way for a long time, pausing every so often to listen for the steady hoots of the grouse.
It seemed to be getting no closer even after we busted our way for nearly a quarter mile. "I think that one is across the valley," Richard said. "These hoots carry a long ways."
We bucked our way back to the truck in the sopping wet brush, arriving back soaked and nothing to show for the effort.
Hali was so wet she had to ride in her "dog box" kennel in the back of the truck from then on.
"Need them closer to the road than that one," we all agreed.
The next hooter we heard was right on top of us. We were just inside the tree line when we decided it was above us. We circled tree after tree trying to figure out just which tree it was roosted in. Each time we would decide on a tree, we would move and find it was hooting from a different one.
"These crazy things are ventriloquists," I said to Richard as he glassed the tree tops with his binoculars.
We finally narrowed it to one tree. We Glassed and glassed but could not see the bird. It just hooted and hooted.
I see a big knurle of a tree when I look through the branches of this one," I said to Matt, who was craning his neck looking through his binoculars.
Matt finally came to my location and then announced, "I see it!"
"Where?' I quickly asked. He did his best to describe it to me.
"All I see is that big knaurle up there," I whispered still glued to my binoculars.
Matt pointed to the branch and then said, "You have to look through those pine branches. It is fluffed up and looks as big as a turkey!"
I looked exactly where he was pointing. That was my big huge pine knurle I had been looking at for the past half hour.
"He is facing away from us his tail feathers are all fanned out and wings are kind of drooping past the branch he is sitting on."
It was like magic. The bird came clear in my vision. I had looked at him over and over and had not "Seen" him.
Richard came around to us and made a great shot through the branches and Hali retrieved our first hooter.
That was the one we needed. Now we had a clue of what to look for.
The rain would come in spurts driving us back to the truck where we would wait for it to subside to a drizzle, and we would be off chasing our next hooter.
We had a couple of birds by noon when we passed a steelhead stream and decided to try our luck at fishing.
Hali thought I was throwing fetching sticks each time I would cast so I finally put up my fishing pole and lead her away from the others so they could fish without having a dog swimming around scaring what fish might be there.
Richard was a bit ahead of us when he turned to me and made the sign of an animal walking the river bank.
"What?" I signed back to him
"Bear!" he loudly whispered back to me.
The black bear saunter through a clearing and then disappeared into the woods.
"Sure glad it is black bears here instead of Brownies like around Sitka," Richard said to me later. "I would never trudge around with only a little .22 rifle in brown bear country. I quickly agreed with him.
In the Sitka area, with only brown bears, we always carry a gun large enough to stop a charging bear.
We managed to catch and release some Dolly Vardens but struck out on the steelhead. The little river was very low and that might have set the run back a bit.
We built a fire under a big tree when the rain began pouring again to teach the kids fire building in wet conditions. Matt is good about preparing his little guys for living in Alaska. He constantly was asking them what they would do if they fell into the river, or if a bear would charge, or if they got lost. Good outdoor training. After warming a bit by the fire we stomped it out and headed back to the truck.
We managed five hooters that first day. We opted not to camp out in tents that night as the rain was pouring down by darkness. We drove back to town where we had a trailer a friend let us stay in. We were so thankful for that.
The second day we thought we had the hooters figured out. Piece of cake we told ourselves.
We would drive, stop and listen, then pick the one we thought we could get.
Our first stop we heard a hooter on both side of the road. Matt and his boys took off after one and Richard and I took off after the other bird.
Richard and I closed in on our bird after bucking through a wall of brush and laydown logs. Little Hali was a trooper fighting her way through to keep up with us. She was having the time of her life.
"It should be just over that little rise," I whispered to Richard.
He was ahead of me and stopped suddenly. "Stop! Keep Hali back," he urgently said. We had come on a steep cut to a river flowing below us. One step through the brush and we would have fallen a long distance to the rock strewn river below.
I commanded Hali to stop and stay as we now listened for the hooter.
"That crazy thing is across the river!" Richard exclaimed in almost disbelief. "You've got to be kidding!"
We had to turn around a bust our way back to the truck empty handed again.
Now we were hunting these things for revenge!
The simple "listen for the hoot and go shoot" of the coffee shop had now turned into one tough hunt.
Matt and his boys came back proudly packing a big hooter.
"Did you know there is a river over there?" we asked pointing to the wall of thick trees ranging across the miles.
"These rivers wind all over this island," Matt informed us, making me want to get on Google Earth to see just where these crazy river were flowing. It seemed like they were running in the wrong direction but I guess they just meander around in all direction.
Matt found a road around the river and we parked and headed for the same hooter. We spent hours looking for the bird hooting and hooting above us and never could pick it out. We finally gave up for an easier one.
In the course of two days we found two hooters that we just could not pick out of the tree tops. One was close to the road and we stopped several times thinking we could eventually see him. He had picked out the perfect tree and we finally claimed him a great adversary and left him to his hooting.
It was a great get away from rain soaked Sitka.
We had to get up at 2:20 am to catch the ferry heading back to Sitka. We piled into our sleeping bags with the rest of the ferry passengers at about three in the morning for the nine hour ride back home.
At 7:00 am the ferry gave a car deck call for those owning pets to go and walk your dogs for a potty break. We piled our sleeping bags in the truck and walked Hali for the 15 minutes allowed, then back to the dinging hall for a great cooked breakfast. We played card games with the boys until Sitka came into view.
We spotted deer on the beach, eagles all over the place, seals, sealions, and whales. It is never a dull trip if you enjoy the wilds of nature.
What a fun four days. Oh sure, it was wet and miserable, long boat rides, living one top roman noodles and candy bars, but that is the way of South Eastern Alaska.
Many times during the trip we would discuss how difficult it is to do things in Alaska. Living in the lower 48's is a breeze compared to here. People here are survivors, they are rugged and tough, very independent but also very helpful if you need a hand.
I can now say I'm a seasoned hooter hunter.
Hali with some Hooters (Grouse)
Richard looking for a Hooter
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