Saturday November 18, 2017
more stories from this episode
By Karen McColl
“Look through your binos and confirm he doesn’t have a black vulva patch.”
“The one who’s walking?”
“Yeah, he’s facing uphill.”
I’m lying on my stomach on the snowy tundra, listening to two women have a serious discussion about caribou genitalia. Is this what I thought hunting would be like? No. But am I enjoying myself? Very much so.
“He doesn’t, he’s white, right?”, Sydney van Loon whispers to Cheryl Ritz, who has her gun loaded and ready. Van Loon wants Ritz to agree with her about the sex of the caribou before Ritz pulls the trigger.
As I’ve recently learned, shooting cow caribou — the females — is illegal, so it’s good not to be too trigger-happy in this situation.
Never in my life did I think I would take an interest in hunting. I grew up in Calgary, with no exposure to either guns or shooting things other than the odd paintball game at birthday parties. But now that I live in the Yukon, I have lots of friends who are always talking about a hunting trip they just went on or one they are planning to go on.
I started to get curious. What’s it like to track and stalk an animal? And how do people experience the great outdoors without a trail to hike or a peak to bag?
I called up van Loon a few weeks back, because I’d heard so much about her hunting prowess. I knew about the time she carried a sheep for five kilometres on a solo hunt and when she spent 12 hours butchering a bison at -30 C.
I asked if I could tag along on a hunting trip with her and, oddly enough, she agreed.
Some people were surprised when I told them I was going hunting. Aren’t you a vegetarian?
I am — mostly. I guess I fall more into the category of a “Yukon vegetarian,” someone who only eats wild game. I don’t seek it out, but from time to time I do enjoy eating my friends’ homemade moose stew or bison chili.
I didn’t know Ritz…