Tour De Greenland
by Ed H Edwards, Lansing Chapter Member, avid hunter, and fisherman
Two centuries ago, the capstone of an English Gentleman’s Education was “The Grand Tour.” Having completed his formal schooling, the young chap would journey often accompanied by a tutor on a year or more travel through the capitals and historic sights of Europe and sometimes beyond.
It was thought that through his observation of man-made marvels such as the Cathedral of Notre Dame, the Parthenon, the glory that was once Rome, and possibly the Pyramids, he would have a richer understanding of the world and be better prepared to assume his ancestral estate life with a wife of good bloodlines with a given name of Elizabeth or perhaps Caroline.
The Modern Hunter
While such Grand Tours are pretty much a thing of the past, there is another kind to be taken today by hunters to experience marvels not man-made that can teach us a great deal about wildlife, wilderness, and even ourselves. Such tours need to be in a foreign country, “otherworldly” in the sense of being radically different than what we experience in the places we grew up or where we normally go to hunt. Besides foreign the hunt would have to show us something extraordinary in terms of animals and their habitat. Asian Argali sheep, a Yukon moose float hunt, or a bongo in Central Africa would certainly qualify.
My hunt along the Western coast of Greenland for muskox and caribou was extraordinary on all accounts. Here is my story.
If the journey makes the adventure, I hit the jackpot on this hunt!
Greenland is classified as a North American country but can only be accessed by air through the European countries of Iceland and Denmark.
I traveled via Iceland and the six-hour flight from Detroit departed and landed right on time. A great start to the trip!
The two-hour flight from Iceland to Greenland departed on time but fog prevented landing and we returned to Iceland. The only hotel with rooms was a two-hour bus ride from the airport and we checked in at 2:30 AM.
After an additional lost day due to fog, we were finally on our way and the six-day hunt was now four days.
Upon arrival at the Greenland airport, we were shuttled to a large cabin cruiser-type boat for a three-hour transport to the Lax-A camp. At 10 PM we arrived at the beautiful Lax-A camp, assigned cabins, and given orientation on camp rules. The three of us hunting muskox were to depart at six AM for a three-hour boat ride to the muskox hunting area.
The Next Morning
The next morning after the three-hour boat ride in and around many icebergs we came upon five guys and a lady with three small boats. After greetings, they ask who was the oldest hunter. I acknowledged that would be me. “You hunt first, come with us” and I climbed into the directed boat and we traveled up the fjord and went ashore.
My muskox hunt was going to happen! I loaded my.270 Winchester leaving the chamber empty. The head guide climbed up the first hill peaked into the valley and quickly returned in an excited state. Using the universal guide hand signals to hurry up and follow him. I adjusted my shooting stick, chambered a round, set the safety, and followed his lead. First, we walked, then ducked, then crawled to the top on hands and knees. As we peaked over a muskox bull was fifth yards away facing us. I was already on my knees and stuck my shooting stick into the soft ground and hoped the bull would turn broadside without spooking.
Resting my rifle on the stick I was not sure I wanted to shoot a muskox this serendipitously. Then thinking about the journey to get to this point in the hunt the answer was, yeah, I did want to shoot a muskox this serendipitously! I learned a long time ago if nature opens a door of opportunity go for it and I prepared for the shot. Shot placement instructions on Muskox are to hold horizontally with its eye and vertically with its front leg. Great advice, to keep from shooting into the two feet of hair that falls nearly to the ground.
This muskox was standing in bushes concealing both its eye and front legs. He moved a bit and I could see his eye but no leg. Estimating the leg location, I moved the crosshairs back from his eye and took a shot. The bull spun around and took off, not knowing if it was a death run, bad shot placement, or a miss I cycled the bolt and shot again. The front leg lifted at the shot indicating a shoulder hit and after turning a half circle on three legs it went down like unreinforced concrete in a hurricane. We hurried to the humped form in the bushes, but the muskox was dead.
Moving it was out of the question since a mature bull of this age exceeds eight hundred pounds. We were able to roll it over for pictures. What an unusual animal! The bull’s coat was different than any other large mammal with an outer layer of dark brown shaggy hair, a creamy saddle, an inner coat finer than cashmere, and what appeared to be white socks from hooves to knees. Horns had long black tips indicating he was nine or more years old and a thick boss topped the horns off.
After admiring and taking pictures, the whole crew we had met up with broke out knives, and skinning, quartering, and loading into the boat was done in less than thirty minutes. In addition to the meat the hide was also donated to the locals to process into wool called “quivit” which is the most valuable wool in the world.
Glenn Friedman and Mike Robinson, the other two hunters were then taken a short distance via boat to hunt their muskox. I kicked back on the mother ship, poured a cup of coffee, unwrapped a PBJ sandwich, and enjoyed the sun and a slight breeze which created a ripple across the bright blue water as consistent as corduroy.
Just before noon two shots were heard a few minutes apart and two more muskox were down!
Early evening we were back at the lodge and got the run-down from Kevin Lang who had hunted caribou while we were after our muskox. Kevin had booked his hunt for two caribou and had filled out with nice bulls. The good news for us was the caribou hunting territory was a short distance from camp and the boat ride departed after a hot breakfast that was served at eight AM. Caribou hunting is conducted from a small boat and safety flotation coveralls were required while traveling. The following morning Glenn and I teamed up with camp manager Bjorn better known as “Bear” and Otto a local guide. We discussed desired antler configuration preference, Glenn wanted width and length, and I wanted multiple top points and heavy bez and shovel.
Within fifteen- minutes after leaving camp we spotted a bull caribou on a mountain top and several below that all appeared to be bulls. We kept motoring for several hundred more yards then went ashore and shed our flotation suits. We circled hoping to get into position with the caribou between us and the water. The strategy worked and sneaking from boulder to boulder we stalked within two hundred yards of five bulls. One was of interest to Glenn and another was fine with me.
Glenn used a camp rifle in 7 MM Weatherby with a suppressed barrel and dumped the bull in its tracks. The 150-grain bullet was too soft, too fast, and exploded on the shoulder bone destroying the entire front quarter.
The remaining caribou were spooked by their fallen friend and my chosen bull circled back in our direction following a game trail between boulders and popped out running in step with a much smaller bull. They separated and stopped long enough allowing me to take a shot down at a sharp angle. The 136-grain Federal Terminal Ascent entered the junction of neck and body coming to rest against the hide just past the last rib perfectly mushroomed with a measured expansion of 1.8 original diameters the same performance as the bullet recovered from my muskox.
Moving it to take pictures we had a pleasant surprise, two antler spades jutted up from the base of his rack, parallel over the bull’s forehead. A double shovel!
The backstraps of these pre-rut bulls were grilled two nights later and were delicious!
On days three and four we did a little fishing and landed a few cod, and many arctic char using both fly and spinning tackle.
In 1983 I hunted caribou in Northern Quebec and had a wonderful time but an unsuccessful hunt. Other hunting opportunities and life in general got in the way and I never hunted caribou again until this trip. Fourthy-one years is a long time but I’m greatly blessed this trip happened with such wonderful people!
More Pictures from this Epic Trip
Interesting Greenland Information
- Greenland is the largest island that is not a continent.
- The muskox in Alaska was introduced from Greenland.
- In the early 1950’s several hundred reindeer were introduced in Greenland from Norway. The caribou hunted in Greenland are classified as Central Barren Ground and came across the Arctic from Canada. The caribou we shot could have been reindeer, pure Central Barren Ground Caribou, or a crossbreed. Who knows?
- The population of Greenland is less than sixty thousand making it the least densely populated country in the world.
- 75% of Greenland is ice-covered and uninhabitable.
- There are a few trees near the airport, but not a single one outside of town.
- Roads are minimal and only exist in towns. Most transportation is by boat, plane, helicopter, or snowmobile.
For information on the camp go to www.lax-a-hunting.com.
Lax-A is a supporter of Safari Club International and donates To the Convention and several Chapter Fundraisers.
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