In 2024, my brother-in-law and I set our sights on a bucket-list adventure — chasing caribou in the northernmost reaches of the United States. The Dalton Highway, better known as The Haul Road, offered a chance at a true DIY hunt inside the Arctic Circle. This is no ordinary highway. Starting north of Fairbanks and stretching all the way to Dead Horse, it’s a lifeline for Alaska’s oil industry — filled with heavy truck traffic, battered gravel stretches, and jaw-dropping views of the Brooks Range.

Everything we read and watched promised big adventure, brutal terrain, and a shot at hard-earned caribou. What we didn’t know was just how much this hunt would test our bodies, our planning, and our patience.

The Unit & the Rules

Our destination was Unit 26B Remainder. Non-residents can buy two bull tags over the counter — no draw required. Simple enough. But there’s a catch:

  • Rifle Hunters: Must be at least 5 miles from the Dalton Highway due to the pipeline corridor.

  • Bowhunters: No corridor restriction (aside from the obvious — don’t shoot from or across the road).

As both bowhunters and rifle hunters, we debated what to bring. In the end, we chose rifles and left the bows at home. That decision would come back to haunt us.

Planning for the Terrain

“It’s like walking on bowling balls.”

That’s how the tundra is often described — and it’s dead accurate. Five miles feels like twenty, and every step batters your knees, ankles, and back. With old injuries from military and law enforcement work, I worried about the pack-in, pack-out distance, especially if we killed two bulls.

We quickly learned about transporters running airboats up the Ivishak and Sagavanirktok Rivers, shuttling hunters past the corridor. The veteran-owned Blown Away Airboat Adventures, owned by RJ, came recommended, and we booked a drop near the 5-mile line. Eventually, we upgraded to the $3,000 per-man option that put us past the corridor, letting us hunt straight out of camp. A veteran discount is available for this who qualify. 

At that point, the plan seemed bulletproof.

Gear I Packed

Since we weren’t backpacking everything on our backs, weight wasn’t a huge concern. Here’s what made my final loadout:

Clothing

  • 2x Hunting Pants

  • 2x Jackets (including 1 puffy)

  • 2x Merino Wool Base Layers

  • 2x Merino Wool Underwear

  • 5x Merino Wool & Alpaca Socks

  • Helly Hansen Rain Gear

  • Grid Fleece Top, Beanie & Neck Gaiter

  • Hand Muff

Footwear

  • Crispi Hunting Boots

  • Leg Gaiters

  • Insulated Rubber Boots

Sleep & Camp

  • Cabela’s Alaskan Guide Tent

  • 15° Sleeping Bag & Pad

  • Mr. Buddy Heater + 20 lb Propane Tank

  • Electric Bear Fence

  • E-Tool Shovel

Food & Cooking

  • Jetboil + Large Fuel Canister & Utensils

  • Peak Refuel Meals

  • Jerky, Granola, Electrolyte Tablets

Optics & Weapons

  • Swarovski Binoculars / Vortex Rangefinder

  • Glassing Tripod

  • Rifle & Pistol with Ammo

  • Knives, Gloves & Game Bags

  • Binocular Harness, RF Pouch, Admin Pouch & Holster

Essentials

  • Exo Mountain Gear K4 Pack + Dry Bags

  • Garmin InReach Messenger

  • Solar Power Bank

  • First Aid Kit & Meds

  • 550 Cord

  • Tags, License, Harvest Report

  • Camera (for marketing & memories)

The Journey North

We arrived in Fairbanks a few days early — a decision I highly recommend. It gave us time to stock snacks, propane, Jetboil fuel, and coolers, plus enjoy real food before the freeze-dried diet.

Rental vehicles are another lesson. Only Alaska 4X4 Rentals, GoNorth, and U-Haul allow Haul Road use. Everyone else has trackers and bans the drive outright. We went with Alaska 4X4 Rentals. A hiccup at pickup caused a delay, but it eventually smoothed out.

At the boat launch, confusion set in. Multiple outfitters use the same ramp, and directions were vague — a OnX screenshot from Facebook without coordinates and a mile marker, but no specific instructions when we arrived. We eventually linked up, slept in our trucks for the night, loaded the airboat, and pushed down the Ivishak River, spotting cows and calves along the way. RJ, the owner, fired us up with a “It’s on!” That optimism carried us into camp.

The Hunt

We expected a remote wilderness drop. Instead, camps dotted the river every mile or so. There had been no pre-hunt communication going over hunt details, which seemed odd given the amount of money we had invested. The whole process felt disorganized and thrown together on the fly. To make matters worse, RJ admitted he’d just learned to mark coordinates for client locations in OnX, which seemed like a bit of a safety concern and amateurish in such a harsh environment. The boating operations came across as commercialized, crowded, and impersonal. We quickly discovered human feces and toilet paper covered by rocks 15 yards from our tent. This location had been occupied days prior to our arrival. 

Day one: no caribou.
Day two and three: miles of tundra glassing and trekking, but zero animals.
By Thursday: 29 miles logged, soaked gear, freezing temps, propane running low, and not a single caribou in sight.

The most frustrating part? Radio silence from our transporter. No check-ins, no concern. When we finally pushed for an early pickup, RJ arrived, showed little interest in our experience, and brushed off the fact we hadn’t seen a single caribou. He did not thank us for the business or mention any future opportunities to book with him again. He seemed disinterested in retaining us as customers — which, as a business owner myself, came across as both unappreciative and unprofessional. I really wanted to give Blown Away Airboat Adventures a great review, but I can’t in good faith. 

Transporters are not outfitters or guides, which makes the $3000 price tag per man far too high for what you get in my opinion.

Personally, I feel air boating in is a gamble that can end up burning you, compared to being mobile along the Haul Road with a bow or flying in with pilots who scout animal movements daily and can drop hunters closer to the herd. Although Alaska law does not allow hunting on the same day you fly, it gives you a far better plan of attack knowing general animal locations and movements.

Summary of Lessons Learned

Our gear preparation proved flawless. Not once did I find myself wishing for an item I hadn’t brought, nor did I feel burdened by unnecessary extras.

Like every hunt around the world, Alaska hunts are never guaranteed. Weather, migration timing, and luck all matter. But when you invest nearly $10,000 between two hunters, you expect professionalism, communication, knowledge, and opportunities. 

Would I recommend boating in with a transporter like Blown Away Airboat Adventures? Not personally. Success is possible — but your odds are far higher by either:

  • Hunting the Haul Road with a bow inside the corridor.

  • Or flying in with an outfitter who can back up success rates of 80–90% and better.

Another critical lesson: buy your tags in Fairbanks. My brother-in-law ordered a caribou and wolf locking tag three weeks before our hunt, and they didn’t arrive in time. As a result, he was limited to only one caribou tag. Don’t risk ruining your hunt by relying on mail delivery — pick them up in person to ensure you don't risk arriving in Alaska with no locking tag. If you run into this issue, I would recommend arriving in Fairbanks during the work week. Alaska Department of Fish and Game are closed during the weekend, which is when we arrived. Alaska Wildlife Troopers can not issue replacement locking tags. 

We walked away with sore backs, wet gear, and empty tags — but also with hard lessons that only the tundra can teach. Next time, I’ll trust less, verify more, and make decisions that keep control in my hands as best as possible.

Because in Alaska, the only guarantee is that nothing comes easy.

Tips & Tricks for this hunt

  • Drying Clothes: Use 550 cord to rig clotheslines inside your tent. A Mr. Buddy Heater is essential for late-season hunts and helps dry soaked gear overnight. Don’t be fooled — rain gear is necessary, but sweat will soak your clothes once you start pushing miles. Always keep a dry grid fleece top, pants, and fresh socks for your time at camp. Staying warm and dry in this environment is essential. 

  • Boot Choice: Rubber boots can become your best friend. On our trip, we abandoned leather boots and gaiters entirely and lived in rubbers, hiking every mile in them.

  • Water Safety: Don’t drink untreated river water. A filter is non-negotiable. We relied on the Drifter Hydration System: fill a soft bladder at the river, then filter directly into the hard bladder in your pack.

  • Snack Smart: Wild blueberries are everywhere and worth eating. They give you natural energy alongside jerky and granola bars during long treks.

  • Stay Connected: Bring a Garmin InReach Messenger. You’ll most likely not have service a majority of the time, and this device allows weather updates and check-ins with family.

  • Fuel Up at Coldfoot if coming from Fairbanks: Stop in for their all-day breakfast. The reindeer sausage and pancakes are highly recommended. This is the last point to fuel up from Fairbanks until Deadhorse. 

  • Bear Awareness: Grizzlies roam these valleys. Don’t be paranoid, but keep food and trash far from camp. I carried a pistol for bathroom breaks and while sleeping. Fresh wolf and bear tracks were located 20-30 yards from our camp during our week in the Tundra. Predators are always lurking in these parts whether you actually see them or not. 

  • Backup Supplies: Forgot something? Dead Horse has expensive but available fuel, food, and essentials in a pinch. Additionally, cell phone service is readily available here if road hunting the Haul Road. 

Wild Blueberries