Methinks there is a story behind nearly every one of these posts, and some appear like they would be damn interesting alright!!
Certainly would be nice if many of these tales could find their way to being posted for the enjoyment of all!
I'll start by answering your question:
Of course.
An Inuit Buddy & I had set out for Shingle Point from Aklavik where I picked him up after wandering over from Inuvik.
It is a lengthy run by snow machine, takes pretty much an entire day to accomplish.
Shingle Point is a protected spur / harbor that juts out into the Beaufort Sea from the Yukon North Slope.
During the cold war, one of the Dew Line Stations was established there, adjacent to an existing summer whaling village used by the local Inuvialuit each year (still is). There is quite the collection of cabins there.
Our thought was to use my Buddy's cabin as a launching point to head out onto the ice in search of Polar Bears (he had a tag).
Upon arrival we dug down through the snow to free up the door (snow was pretty much up to the roof line on all the cabins) and drug in an armload of wood to start thawing the place out. Shortly after that I went back out to collect more firewood...
When I did so I saw a dark shape about 75 yards distant, headed in from upwind towards the cabins. I realized it was a big wolverine at about the same time he felt something was amiss and stalled out. I made myself look as large as I could, and did my best
LOUD Grizz Roar imitation. He bristled, hair up all over his back, and returned the growl perhaps even louder than mine. So I let another go at him. This time he charged forward at blinding speed right effing at me!
OH-OH!!
In those days I had a carry permit, and although I rarely packed any heavy iron, I usually did pack a little 22 automatic.
I knew I had that pistol somewhere under the heavy skidoo suit, and looked down as I madly scrambled to find and cock it.
I managed to do that in one hell of a hurry, looked up, and to my astonishment, the bugger was about ten yards and closing
FAST! JheeSuz!!
I double handed the little pistol, and knowing I would only likely get one shot, waited until he was less than six feet before I fired.
Little bullet hit him just above, and just off to one side of being right between the eyes. Instant brain death.
He tumbled and began a furious
Funky Chicken at that, while I back peddled and lined up for another.
My Inuit Buddy, having heard the pistol's bark, emerged from the cabin, 270 in hand, and literally flung me off to one side as he brought his rifle to bear.
DON"T I SCREAMED! He's DONE!
My partner kept the rifle on him for 30 seconds or so - just long enough to establish I had the gist of the matter right.
Then he turned grinning at me and said:
Man you are damn Lucky! Like getting ahold of the business end of a chainsaw if they ever latch onto you.
It was about then I noticed my hands were shaking uncontrollably...
Never did take any field pictures - that was long before digital came around, and simply never even crossed my mind. Still have his hide, it is a Big One, and given the circumstances, I did not want to part with it. Here's a recent picture with an Excalibur Exomax laying over-top that indicates just how big he really was:
Just a
little harrowing that experience...
OK Fellas, I ponied up.
Now let's hear a few of the tales associated with these other close range encounters Please & Thanks!
Cheers,
Nog