My very first memories involve hunting, and I guess that shouldn't surprise anyone. My mom carried me around Deer and Elk hunting with my Dad while she was pregnant! I started going to the hunting camp with my Dad, Gramps, and my Uncles when I was just a little kid. My brother was there too. We grew up with hunting magazines all over the house, poring over every article. We couldn’t wait until hunting season came. Scott, my brother, and I would make sure all of our gear was packed, then we would start pestering Gramps, who lived right across the street about where we should hunt that coming year. We would listen as he would recount past hunting seasons, telling us animals that he had bagged, and the like. This is a hunting trip from 1955. My Dad is the young kid behind the big bull, his first big one, my Gramps next to him with his, and Gene Snow with his spike.



We both lived to hunt. I guess we were just like some kids who love to play sports and dream about someday making it to the “big leaguesâ€, but our dreams involved hunting. And ever since we were kids, we dreamed of someday being able to put a big game animal, Deer, maybe an Elk, into the “Book.†Boone and Crockett, the name conjured up past stories that I had read in Outdoor Life, Sports Afield, and Hunting Magazine. For me, it was the Hall of Fame.

In time, we both became accomplished hunters. I have to admit, (a tough thing to do for an older brother!) that my brother has become the more proficient of the two of us though. Our early years were probably like most kids that start hunting; we hunted the area that our family had hunted for years. It is a good, but not great area. It’s in a unit that in regards to record book class animals is better for Elk than Deer. I’ve never heard of any “Book†deer coming out of there, but every year it produces outstanding Elk. That is if you can draw a branch antlered tag. As the years went by reality set in, and for me the responsibilities of raising a young family. Scott on the other hand had his dreams and his dreams included 385 class bulls and 190+ class bucks. He worked for a short time as a packer for an outfitter here in Washington, and then went to Montana to begin an apprenticeship program to become a hunting guide in the Bob Marshall Wilderness area. As fate, or luck, would have it his girlfriend was offered a job in Alaska. Nome, Alaska of all places. I guess for Scott there was something that actually mattered more to him than big bulls and big bucks and her name was Sandy. So he left his dream and followed her to Alaska, to a tiny city called Nome that he would soon come to find out was heaven on earth for an avid hunter.

Nome is a city located on the southern Seward Peninsula coast on Norton Sound of the Bering Sea. Today it’s probably more famous as the site of the finish of the Iditarod Dog Race. The population of Nome averages around 3500 people. But that’s not the way it’s always been. In the summer of 1898, the "Three Lucky Swedes": Norwegian Jafet Lindeberg, and two naturalized American citizens of Swedish birth, Erik Lindblom and John Brynteson, discovered gold on Anvil Creek. News of the discovery reached the outside world that winter. By 1899, Nome had a population of 10,000. In that year, gold was found in the beach sands for dozens of miles along the coast at Nome, which spurred the stampede to new heights. Thousands more people poured into Nome during the spring of 1900 aboard steamships from the ports of Seattle and San Francisco. By 1900, a tent city on the beaches and on the treeless coast reached 30 miles, from Cape Rodney to Cape Nome. The Gold rush was on, and many more came to Nome in hopes of finding their treasure. The Gold rush has passed and today Nome is like most small towns in Alaska. Mining for gold is still a big part of Nome, but it is also serves as the commercial hub for the rest of the villages that are on the Seward Peninsula. The tundra still shows evidence of the gold mining that took place in that country. This is a dredge that sits in Harris Creek, one of the best preserved in the tundra around Nome. This dredge is about 90 miles out of Nome. Those miners were a hardy breed and I'm amazed every time I see one of these dredges, miles from Nome. The amount of effort required to build something like this, and then keep it running, miles from civilization is hard for me to fathom…



Sandy went to work for one of the largest Grocery chains in Alaska and Scott got a job working for one of the gold companies that still mines in Nome. But as any died in the wool, rabid hunter knows, Alaska is really all about hunting and fishing, and the Seward Peninsula has plenty to offer in that regard! It wasn’t long before Scott realized that this really was a dream come true. The Seward Peninsula is home to Moose, Grizzlies, Caribou, Musk Ox, some of the finest Dolly Varden fishing there is, as well as healthy Salmon runs. Scott, being the confirmed hunting fanatic that he is, soon was hunting and scouting as often as possible. No, Nome didn’t have trophy class Elk, or 190 class bucks, but it did have Boone and Crockett Moose, and Grizzlies! Scott began to study Grizzlies with a passion that was kindled in his heart as a young child reading hunting magazines, was fueled by hunting stories our Gramps told us as kids, was fanned by days watching Mountain Goats and Elk as he packed for an outfitter in the Cascades, and burst into a burning desire to someday put one of these Grizzlies that he was now watching on the Alaskan tundra, into the “Book.â€

It wasn't long after he arrived in Nome that it started, “Joel, you have to come up here and hunt with me. This has to be the best hunting on earth.†He was sending pictures, videos, and when he came to visit, Moose racks to egg me on. The only problem was that I was in the midst of going through a divorce and then for a couple years after that was as flat broke as a man could be. I was going to have to wait. The one advantage in my favor was that Alaska’s “near kin law†would allow me to hunt with my brother and not have to pay for a guide’s services. That would save me thousands, but still, I would have to wait. The years rolled by and Scott continued to study and hunt Grizzlies. By 1998 I had saved enough money to go Moose hunting and off to Alaska I went. It was a great trip and I shot a 56†Bull Moose, but more importantly, I saw my first Grizzly. I had such a great time hunting with Scott that I decided to go back the following year. In 1999 I also purchased my first Grizzly tag. The thought had begun to form in the back of my mind that maybe, just maybe I could find a “Book†Grizzly bear. Scott warned me that although the Seward Peninsula is home to a vast number of Grizzlies, the average size is only about a 6 foot to 6 ½ foot squared hide. The Grizzlies that inhabit the Seward Peninsula live in the Artic Tundra and it takes many years for them to attain record book size. Unlike the Brown Bears that live on the southern coasts of Alaska and Kodiak Island, the Tundra Grizzlies live in a much harsher climate. The summers are short, and the winters are long. And most of them don’t enjoy the protein rich salmon runs that the Brown Bear utilizes to attain their incredible size. But still, I had my dream. That 2nd hunt I shot another Moose and also my first Grizzly. And just as Scott had warned, it was a small 6 footer. But I was as happy as a man could be. I had shot a Grizzly bear, something most hunters only dream about and I wasn’t complaining.

My 2nd Bull…



At the time, Alaska’s hunting regulations stated that you could only shoot a Grizzly bear every 5 years in Unit 22, so it would be another 4 years before I would be eligible to apply for a tag again. The job I had at the time involved lot’s of travel and I had accumulated enough air miles to head north again, so I decided to go up and hunt Caribou. That to this day is one of the coldest hunts I’ve ever encountered. It was brutally cold, I didn’t see any Caribou, but I saw more Grizzlies! In fact I saw my first trophy class Grizzly. We had spotted him on the tundra walking right towards us. We sat and watched him, with our guns close by, and he walked right past us. I will never forget the sight of his muscles rolling under his skin as he walked by. It was just incredible! A mature Grizzly bear, up close, has to be one of the greatest sights a hunter can ever experience and as fate would have it, I was soon going to get another chance at a big bear.

Soon after that hunt, the regulations changed in regards to Unit 22 and Grizzly bear hunting. The Alaska Dept. of Fish and Game had decided that the bears were killing too many Moose calves, so they opened that area up to one Grizzly every year. I immediately applied for another tag, received one and went back up for another Grizzly. That hunt would be a spring bear hunt, and it was a total dud. Spring came early, and we weren’t able to get around on the tundra and though we saw a few bears, they were miles away. I still had a great time and had decided to continue my quest for a nice Grizzly. In the spring of 2002 I was back in Nome. This hunt would once again be a very difficult hunt. In 10 days of hunting, we were able to actually hunt for only 2 days. The rest of the hunt we experienced near “white out†conditions. The snow was blowing so hard that we had only 150 yards of visibility. We spent 5 days sitting in a cabin, got out one day, my brother got a Grizzly, were able to get out the next day; I shot another Grizzly that was beautiful, but not the size I was looking for, then we were trapped in the cabin for another 3 days. A tough hunt, and a successful hunt, but still not the bear I was hoping for.

My 2nd Grizzly…



I spent the next few years focusing on hunting Whitetail in Idaho with my Dad and my Uncle. My Dad has reached the twilight of his hunting career, and I wanted to spend it with him. But I was still dreaming of big bears…

Dad’s last Whitetail from Idaho…



One of Scott’s and my other passions is Flat Track motorcycle racing. He had come down last year to watch the “Castlerock Grand National†and he came back again this last summer. I wasn’t about to miss it either, so we met up at the races. I hadn’t been there long when he started in, “When are you coming back up to chase Grizzlies again? There's lot’s of big bears running around right now…†What a way to ruin a great weekend of races! The races were great, but my mind was filled with the smell of the tundra, and visions of Grizzlies! I came back home, thought it over for about 5 seconds, and bought my license, tags and plane ticket. I was headed back to Nome…

I already had most of my gear, but one thing I had learned from my previous hunts in Alaska is the importance of quality optics. Hunting on the tundra is all about glassing, and glassing, and more glassing. If your optics aren’t up to the task you’re going to get a headache, and you won’t spend enough time behind your bino’s. I had been researching binoculars for about 2 years, and though I knew the Big 3 were the best, I couldn’t justify the price. So instead I purchased a set of Meopta 8x42’s. What a great purchase, they worked great; no headache and they deliver outstanding performance. I can’t recommend them enough.

I left Seattle International Airport Friday the 5th. As I took off, I was looking out the window wondering if this would be my turn. I asked the Lord to keep us safe, allow us a great time and to bless our hunt, and then settled in for the long flight north. I arrived in Nome at 9:30 pm to absolutely beautiful weather. I’ve been to Nome 5 times prior to this last time, and I've never experienced the weather I did this trip. Sunshine, a light breeze, warm weather, and the smell of the tundra, it was simply awesome!

We headed out the next morning towards Teller. Scott has studied Grizzlies for years, and figured the best place to go would be in an area where he and his hunting partner had taken a Grizzly a few years prior that is top 75 All-time in the Boone and Crockett record book. It is an area that also has Moose. There aren’t as many Moose as in other areas on the Peninsula, but the bulls that reside there tend to be big. We drove out of town for an hour or so and then parked his van. Scott’s hunting partner, Joe Small was also along for the trip. I’ve hunted with Joe before, and a man couldn’t ask for a better hunting partner, he’s a first rate guy. We headed out across the Tundra on the ATV’S. The first thing I noticed was that my body isn’t as flexible as it used to be. It was one of the roughest rides I’ve ever experienced on a 4-wheeler. Up, down, all around, yee haw! If you ever go on a hunt like this, there’s 2 items that you need to be sure you don’t forget. Baby wipes and ointment, it's your choice but I’d suggest the best you can buy. And if you forget them? You are going to enjoy a serious case of “Monkey Butt", of the highest order! We spent about 3 hours crossing the tundra until we arrived at Scott’s campsite, which was nothing more than a spot out of the wind. We set up our camp which consisted of 2 backpack tents, sleeping pads, and a cook stove.



Our food would be sparse, mostly stuff that was light, that we just needed us to add water. Joe was looking for a nice Moose so our plan was to spend the next day glassing this drainage and see what we could find. We were up early and hiked into the drainage and began to glass. We spent the whole day glassing and never saw a Moose. But we did see Grizzlies, 15 in fact but nothing worth going to take a look at. When we got back to camp, we were eating our dinner, looking out over the tundra and enjoying the solitude when my brother said, “Hey there’s a bear!†We grabbed our spotting scopes and sure enough, a lone bear was making his way down to the river. We decided to take a closer look, and he was a nice bear to be sure, but not what I’d come up for. One thing for sure, the Tundra was in full bloom and beautiful…



The next day we went back to the same drainage and saw more bears, but no Moose, not one. I saw a Sow and 3 cubs, but that was it. So we decided to go to the other side of the drainage and look back across it to see if we could see a bull. Still nothing. We had our lunch and talked about the lack of Moose in this drainage. Scott was sure they were there, but the alder and willows were so tall that we couldn’t see them. We decided to move to the next drainage and see if it held any bulls. Boy was my luck about to change…

We crested the top of the ridge and began to work down the spine of the hill. Scott was in front, I was behind him, and Joe was following. Suddenly Scott hunkered down and pulled up his Swarovski’s. He took a quick look and turned around with a smile that said it all. He said just three words, “Bear, big one!†We crept closer for a better look and sure enough, this was indeed a big bear. I remember once reading Jim Shockey’s comments about big bears. He said something to the effect that one way to tell if it’s a big bear is how they act. They act like they are the toughest SOB around, because they are. They fear nothing, including other bears. Well this bear certainly had that attitude. He also had a long neck, low belly, ears way off to the side of his head and one other feature that marked his age. His claws were all white. Scott asked me if I wanted to try and take him and I said “Let’s go!â€

We had the wind in our favor, so we decided to hike down the backside of the ridge, out of the bear’s sight, drop down into a draw across from him and then come up right in front of him. We had about a half mile to go so we took off. I was packing my Winchester Model 70 SS Classic, chambered in 338 Win Mag that has performed so well over the years for me. It’s topped with a Leupold VX II 2X7. It’s the perfect Grizzly bear rifle in my opinion. I reload my own ammo, as well as for my brother. I was using 210 grain Noslers. I’ve been using this bullet for a number of years now, and though one of the advantages of the 338 caliber is the ability to use heavy bullets, I’ve always gotten such great performance from the 210 grain Noslers that I just use it for everything anymore. I subscribe to the theory that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. My rifle was loaded as was Scott’s. He uses a 300 Weatherby loaded with 200 grain Noslers, just like my Dad, and my Uncle, and my cousin, and Joe Small… I’m the black sheep I guess.

We dropped down to the draw that was in front of the Grizzly, out of his sight, but we couldn’t see him either. The wind was blowing steady at about 20 mph, perfect. We eased up over the top of the draw and there he was, eating Blueberries. We began to move in, moving when his head was down. We wanted to get as close as we could, without spooking him. We had finally gotten into position; Scott had already dropped down to the tundra but just as I was moving the bear lifted his head. I was busted! Remember what I said, how Jim Shockey described those big bears? They act like the toughest SOB around, because they are the toughest SOB around! Well this bear didn’t know what we were, just that something was close to him, it was small, and it might be food. Rather than bolting, he decided to come over and take a look. As he dropped down, so did I. He began to walk towards us. He was about 125 yards away, but coming straight at us. I wanted him to turn so I could get a good shot into his shoulder. He finally moved to his left a little. I had been looking at Scott every other moment, wondering what he thought, but every time I looked, he was watching the bear. Came to find out later that he was telling me to shoot, but the wind was blowing so hard, I couldn’t hear him! I was telling him I wanted to shoot, but he couldn’t hear me! I finally figured it was time so I drew down on his shoulder, knowing the bullet would get into his lungs at the angle I had. Ka-Wham! He spun around twice, then dropped down on 3 legs, and here he came, full bore right at us! Scott tried to put one into him but he was coming so fast that he missed, and then he was into the creek that separated us. I expected him to come out of that creek full bore, but he didn’t come. I waited, every fiber of my body tingling, but still no bear. I looked at Scott and he said, “You hit him really hard, he’s blowing blood out his mouth!†We waited for a minute, reloaded, and then went to get him. We didn’t know where he was at, so we moved up the creek about 50 yards and moved in. I stayed on the top; Scott would drop in the creek, look then come back out. I never let Scott out of my sight. I know it sounds stupid, but while we were doing this, I kept thinking back to when we were kid’s jumping-shooting ducks out of Schulers farms! But this was different; we kept moving, full alert. Step by step, suddenly Scott said, “There he is, wham!†Turns out, he was dead. He had come down the hill, straight at us, crossed the creek about 50 yards away from us and died on our side of the creek. The 210 Nosler had delivered once more.

As we walked up to him I was filled with so many emotions, Scott looked at me, back at the bear, back to me, back to the bear, then said, “That’s a big bear!†Indeed it was. I had never seen a Boone and Crockett bear before, but if this wasn’t one, I just couldn’t believe that they could get any bigger! We tried to move him, but we couldn’t. I originally thought he had to weigh about 650lbs, but I think now he had to be heavier. I really believe that bear weighed 700 plus pounds. He was simply huge. We went back and got Joe, and he helped us move him around so we could get some pics. We didn't have a tape measure with us, but figured the bear was an 8 footer, or very close to it.





That’s a big bear Joe! Sure is!



We skinned him out and got him back to camp. Scott was positive that it was a "Book" bear, but we couldn’t be sure until we got the skull out and measured it. Boone and Crockett's minimum for the All-time record book is 24â€, 23" for the awards book. Once we got back to town, we caped out the skull, and made some measurements and sure enough, he scored 24 and 8/16’s. We also put a tape to the hide, and 2 days after having skinned him the hide squared out at 8 foot 1 inch, a genuine monster Tundra Grizzly. All bears have to be sealed at the Alaska Dept. of Fish and Game, so we grabbed the skull and headed out. The gal put the calipers on the skull and came up with 24 and 8/16’s, the same measurement. I won’t be able to get it scored officially for 60 days, and it will shrink some as it dries, but not a half inch.

This hunt wouldn’t have been possible had it not been for my brother, and I want to thank him. Scott, you’re the best. You’re the best hunter I know, and I couldn't ask for a better brother. This is just one of many hunts I’ve enjoyed with you and I know there will be more. Also thanks to Joe Small, you’re a great friend, and a great hunting partner. Thanks for everything Joe.

Joe’s Moose from the same trip…



I also need to thank my Dad. Dad starting us hunting when we were very young, and taught us both everything he knows; especially to enjoy each and every hunt. Thanks for everything Dad.

And especially thanks to the Lord.

Joel Babcock

Great photos and story. Thanks for sharing it. The Field and Stream, OutdoorLife, reminds me of when I was a kid, and me and my hunting buddies would hustle to the school library to get the new copies when they arrived, then fight over them. The Librarian new we enjoyed the magazines, and all through school, grade school until I was a senior, she made sure the subscriptions were availible.

Great report! Beautiful bear.

Congrats on a dream come true!

Great story and pics! I also took a B&C grizzly from the Seward Peninsula last April, just east of Nome near White Mountain. Like you, I used a .338 Win Mag topped with a Leupold 2x7 (great minds think alike, right? But my rifle is a Remington 700 and the bullet was a Nosler 250 gr partition).

Nice moose, too. Family trips are always the best.

Congrats!

That's an awesome bear, congrats! Thanks for taking the time to fill us in on all of the details.

How big was Joe's moose? I assume that Scott didn't take a bear on this trip?

His Bull was 57" if I remember correctly, we went after 2 Grizzlys for Scott and they both got away. The 2nd was a real nice bear, real big.

That's hunting...

Thanks for sharing those wonderful memories with everyone here.

I thoroughly enjoyed your post.

Great thread! Thank you!

Great story! Congrats man!

Congrats!! Great bear, great story.

Wonderful Adventure and tradition.