By Matt Rehor

I think everyone has that special animal to hunt. For me it's the caribou. I haven’t hunted a lot of species or been out west, but I have been fortunate enough to travel to Alaska with my father - twice. My first trip was in ’97 - a trip that started my fascination with what I consider to be the most frustrating and unpredictable animal.

Throughout that first trip I never seemed to be in the right spot. I even went so far as to chase a small herd over a hill. When I got to the top, they were a mile and a half away. My dad and uncle figured out an ambush spot and that's how I hunted the remainder of the trip. Sitting in a small willow hedgerow next to the many caribou trails. On the last morning my father told me to take a shot at the first one that came by. During the walk up to our ambush spot I prayed that a caribou would come by. Sure enough, two hours later, a cow came by as I drew and released on here. With my dad right behind me, the cow walked over the hill and got those "wobbly legs". The emotions ran out - we were both hysterical. Moments like these are never forgotten, and I’m proud to say it is just one of the many that I've shared with my dad while bowhunting. The bug had been planted for me right then, and I wanted to go back. However, I didn’t think it would be too soon.

This past summer I was home on my lunch break and got the call. My father wanted to go back to Alaska. For one reason or another his friends could not make it so who better to take than his son - right? He told me to get some money together for my hunting license and caribou tags since we were leaving the middle of August.

Before I knew it we were floating a remote Alaskan river and catching grayling on just about every cast. I truly feel I am the luckiest kid alive. The trip was very special for my father and I. Just the two of us, and the river were he had harvested his trophy bull some years back.

The second day we reached the spot we wanted to hunt. After the camp chores we went on a scouting mission to the top of a hill. We had simply gone out to look for the best route up the hill, but to our surprise, the caribou were right on top. Out of the blocks we were stalking caribou and by the end of the day had encountered more bous' than the entire trip in ’97.

This was a 'dream' day for me on a self-guided bowhunt. We had many stalks that day and decided to pack it in. I was so exhausted that I couldn’t stalk another caribou - so I thought. So down the mountain we went. I was following my dad when suddenly he motioned to "get down." A magnificent bull was walking down the hill into the underbrush. My father went after him by taking a route to the left of the bull. Instead of just standing there watching, I knocked an arrow and slowly moved my way towards the spot where I last saw the bull. I could see my dad fifty yards away and by the way he was hunting I knew the bull was close. I moved forward and there he was - just twenty five yards away from me, behind some brush. Some movement caught my eye right in front of me and I could clearly see the top palm of a bull. There were two! I slowly drew as I stood. He was quartering away at twenty yards. I picked my spot and released. I watched my arrow penetrate to the fletching.

The bull ran like a rocket over the hill. I had just aced a huge Caribou. I was in shock! Everything happened so fast. I took a minute to catch my breath, then I yelled for my father to come over and told him what happened. He was so excited. We couldn’t help but reflect on what had just happened, where we were, and how lucky we had been.

After giving the bull some time, we went after him. While I was flagging the trail, my father told me to come on over. There was my bull. It was the most rewarding triumph of my short hunting career so far.

I hope by reading my story you have that urge to hunt caribou. If you're looking for a hunt that will challenge your skill and knowledge of wildlife, I think it's time you made the decision to go to Alaska caribou hunting. It is my favorite species to hunt and I think it could be yours too! No matter how big, male or female, any caribou is a trophy. But more important - those memories made with my dad are worth the trip itself.