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  • January 17, 2012

    Alaskan Hunter Takes Extremely Rare Banded King Eider -3


    After about a 12-hour delay in Anchorage, Ramsey Russell of and I made it to St. Paul Island, Alaska, at 2:00 a.m. and met up with Moe Neale and Jeff Wasley of Alaskan Eider Outfitters. That’s the good part. The bad part is that my bag with all my clothing, my cooler and my Benelli Super Vinci were still in Anchorage.

    The amazing part of this trip took place the next morning when campmate Trevor Peterson of Bethell, Alaska, who is here with his father Greg, of Helena, Montana, came back to the house -- with the first pull of the trigger he dropped a king eider. But not just any king -- a banded king!

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  • January 11, 2012

    In Pursuit of the King Eider-3


    In a matter of days, Saturday to be exact, I’ll make my way to one of the most inhospitable places on earth to hunt for one of the hardiest, most desired ducks known to waterfowlers – the king eider.

    St. Paul Island, found within Alaska’s Pribolof chain, is located in the remote reaches of the Bering Sea. Closer to Siberia (500 miles) than to Anchorage (about 800 miles) and home to a few hundred full-time residents, St. Paul Island is “Deadliest Catch” territory; Bering Sea crabbers drop their catch at the island’s processing plant when plying the killer water surrounding the small land mass.

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  • January 4, 2012

    New Year's Resolution: Never Get Lost (Again)-8


    So there I was (yeah, it’s one of those stories). There I was, walking through a field with barely enough grass cover to hold a sparrow much less a pheasant or even quail or hun. Kona and I had been hunting hard all day; going deep while exploring the south end of some public property.

    We went off the beaten path, worked heavy cover adjacent to a creek and finally climbed our way out of the bottoms and to the top of the plateau surrounding the area. That’s when we encountered the sparse grass.

    And then I noticed a truck go by on gravel road. “Must be an access road down here,” I thought.

    And then I saw some outbuildings throughout the area. “I wonder if those buildings are part of the homestead the state purchased?”

    And then I noticed all the cattle looking at us. “Well, I know the state still allows grazing on the property,” I reasoned.

    At some point, however, I put 2 and 2 and 2 together and realized that I had walked right off the 13,000-acre property and onto private land. I have no clue at what point this transgression took place. I quickly unloaded my gun and walked to the nearest road and house.

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