Glenn
Dunning is a member of New England Outdoor Writers Association
(NEOWA) and contributes monthly to Outdoors Magazine
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Outdoors Magazine, December '05 issue, Traveling Outdoorsman column Submitted by: Glenn Dunning |
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Rebecca's Bull! Mass. Women Fulfills Tundra Quest |
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| Rebecca Phillips is an elementary school principal; she and her husband reside in eastern Massachusetts where they raise Britney Spaniels along with a couple of good kids. Some have suggested that women are more cognizant of their age than the masculine gender and who knows if that's true, but May 3rd, 2005 marked Becky's 40th birthday and in her mind that was special enough to warrant some reward. While diamond rings or new fancy cars might be on another woman's list, Becky called her Mom, Bunny last January and announced, "I'm buying myself a caribou hunt for my birthday and I believe it is your duty and obligation to go with me!" Now, if you're wondering where do women like this come from, you might ask Bethel, VT resident Richard Huntley as he is husband and father of these two caribou hunters. In fact, he and Bunny, have hunted all over the world together. Rebecca is one of their three children - all girls. Needless to say, growing up in central Vermont as the off-spring of Rich and Bunny, chances are you are going to learn a little bit about hunting. Rebecca shot her first buck at age 14 but as she admits, "it was a long haul between that first deer and the next." High school, then college, then more college, along comes job and family and we all know how that goes. Then in the summer of 1995 she enrolled in a Vermont program with her Mom called, Becoming an Outdoor Woman or B.O.W. The three day summer workshop was scheduled as an opportunity for women to network and acquire outdoor related skills. "Mom didn't have to twist my arm to get me to come along and I just loved it." Among the lessons being offered was an archery clinic. "I had picked up a bow before, maybe once or twice, but it was never anything special to me but at the B.O.W. outing they had a left handed compound and since I had always shot rifles and shotguns left-handed I was intrigued to try it." What she discovered was that she had a very natural talent for whacking arrows into the heart of a target and within week of returning home she had gone out and purchased a bow and all the accessories necessary to set-up a back yard range. In the Huntley household, the words "going hunting" have a larger meaning than in most Vermont homes. As evidenced by Rich and Bunny's trophy room, "going hunting" might mean in the back forty or halfway around the world. With that perspective, in the fall of 1996, a year of practice under her belt, Becky and her Mom set off on a black bear hunt in Nova Scotia and not surprisingly both scored. Then in the fall of 2002, three of them, Bunny, Rebecca and her older sibling Lynn, took their Mother/Daughter show to Newfoundland where all three shot out on Woodland Caribou. Although a great trip, Rebecca had really hoped to harvest her stag with a bow but ended up settling for a rifle kill. This only served to boost the quest for a bou with a bow to near obsessive levels. Now; on September 8th, 2005 Mother and daughter sat side by side in a small bush plane a thousand feet above the ground and one thousand miles north of Montreal, looking down at the red roofs of Ungava Adventure's Charlie Camp. They had settled on Ungava Adventures because the outfit was based out of Kuujjuaq, which meant they would be hunting the big bulls of the Leaf River herd, and the outfit had a solid reputation for comfortable camps, good food and service-minded personnel. As they sat at the breakfast table that first morning staring at plates of eggs and bacon and sausage and coffee they were feeling certain they had chosen a good outfit. Additionally, both Rebecca and her Mom instantly liked their young guide, Nate. That first day they headed south out of camp, the two women on the guide's heels. Soon however, as adrenaline levels started to give way to the physical strain of trying to keep up, Becky recalled how they fell into a more comfortable pace. "Mom and I were lapsing further behind Nate but he didn't seem to mind as he would wait on a hilltop and glass for animals while we caught up." The terrain is very open in this part of the arctic and geographic features like hills and distance can be deceiving. "I had no idea how much ground we were covering. We would occasionally see caribou in the distance and head in that direction venturing close enough to determine if there were any shooter bulls." The routine changed sometime around mid-morning when the women looked up to see Nate excitedly motioning for them to move up. He had spotted a group of caribou with at least 3 good bulls heading in their direction. The animals were just over the rise, a couple of hundred yards out but closing the distance quickly. They crouched down and skirted behind small bushes and the ridgeline moving steadily in an attempt to intercept the bulls at close range. "I had just assumed Mom with her rifle would have the first shot opportunity but it was me with my bow that Nate was encouraging to get ready. The three of us made it behind a large boulder. At forty yards the largest bull passed behind a small tundra spruce and I came to full draw." Unexpectedly, the animal stopped, leaving no possibility for a shot. "He did not move and I was beginning to panic knowing I could not hold at full draw much longer." She could see the antlers of one of the lesser bulls as it was passing the other side of the rock and wondered if she could quickly stand and get an arrow off in that direction but then Nate said, "No Becky; look." Following the guide's gesture she glanced back to see that the original bull had stepped clear of cover and stood broadside. Her Mom recalled how she couldn't see anything but concentrated on staying down and out of the way. "Becky was at full draw for what seemed 2 or 3 minutes and then she released. I remember hearing the arrow whack what I was sure must have been the bull." Becky was rattled, the arrow had found its mark but the hit looked low and the caribou's response seemed sedated. On the arrows impact, it had lurched but then it slowed back into a walk, seemingly unaffected. The guide prodded Bunny to get ready with the rifle but then as they watched the big bull, moving forward, faltered. Amazingly, the animal wobbled on its hind legs before losing its balance and heaving over. He was down… Women enjoy liberties at emotional moments like this and between the hugs and tears and war hoops there was for Rebecca Phillips a rush of primal accomplishment, non-specific to gender or age or even time itself. Retrieving the bloodied arrow from the tundra grass, she approached the downed animal. Becky had her bull… |
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