Gratitude Sunday: The Tutu are Running

Last night at about 7, Hubby got an excited call from a friend exclaiming that the tutu are running! Tutu is the Inupiat word for caribou. As Hubby and friend had a planned hunting trip tht kept getting postponed, this was their big chance. There had been reports of a huge herd of around 1500 about a mile off a dirt road to nowhere, and that is a BIG deal considering how hard it is to get out on the tundra in the first place... not to mention getting back with litterally tons of meat.

We had been planning on spending some family time together that evening, the first one off in 4 days, andI was not excited about spending another night alone. I wasn't opposed to heading out, so we made it a spontaneous family outing. We gathered as much gear as we could think we would possibly need and away we went.

It is amazing how bumpy it is while appearing so incredibly flat at the same time. The back of a 4 wheeler is really not the best way to tour the landscape, but we pulled into a huge herd around 9pm. It was amazing to see so many large animals so close together, but we could never get close enough to take a shot.

We never figured it would be so hard to shoot one with so many so close together. But, they knew we were coming before we could even see them. With no trees or bushes to hide us, there was no sneaking up on that herd. Our best shot was to sit and wait for someone to chase them back in our direction and with the tundra being so flat and vast, there was little chance that would happen. Yah, like we know anything about hunting caribou! Basically, we just went out on 4 wheelers for some wildlife viewing and happened to be heavily armed.

At about 10pm we decided that it was getting too late to fumble around trying to guess how this is properly done, so we headed back into town. On the way back, we came across a fox hole with a cute little cub who was bouncy and playful, a whole bunch of seagulls pecking at the gut piles left by more successful and experienced hunters and two fresh kills that were apparently left on the tundra to rot.

The Natives are not limited by any hunting restrictions, nor would any restrictions be enforced up here anyway. Everyone else is permitted to kill 10 / person / day for subsistence. We hoped to take 1, but soon realized that even this would prove difficult on the tundra. The two caribou we found were left because they had not grown any antlers, and the best hind-quarter meats had been tainted by ruptured intestines (one by a poor shot and the other by a sloppy butcher). We could only figure that they were too lazy to use what they had killed. What a waste!

It was approaching 11 and Kaia was getting cold and beyond tired. I was actually really impressed with her excitement and pleasant demeanor while on the spontaneous hunting excursion. She laughed and explored and enjoyed the bumpy ride on the tundra. When we came to the dead caribou, she got really excited. I know she doesn’t grasp the concept of death, but I wasn’t sure if it would be okay for her to witness the skinning and butcher of something she clearly identified as an animal.

She staggered up to it, crouched down and reached out with one finger. “Eyeeee” she said as she poked it right in the eye. She laughed and then poked herself in the eye repeating “eyeeee,” just as she does with her stuffed animals. She explored our faces for clues about the situation and seemed more curious than concerned about the whole process. I doubt that we have scared her in any way. I just wonder how this will play out in the future when she does understand the reality behind the protein portions of so many of her favorite meals.

I guess this is one of those situations where most other parents would have done something completely different. I did think of her development and was sensitive to her needs and yet still proceeded to take her out on a hunting trip just an hour before her regular bed time. I did monitor her reaction to seeing the animal dead on the ground and explained to her what it was and why it was there. I don’t feel any guilt or regret about the experience. However, I can picture Kaia sharing this with a friend 10 years down the road and not getting a favorable response… Actually, I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if this experience also makes it to the office of a therapist.

Nobody makes it out of childhood without some warped ideas and at least one horror story anyway. I guess if she had to have one, this would be better than most. No doubt I am making a bigger deal of it than it deserves, I just think it is kind of cool that we were able to take such an excursion on the spur of the moment as a family. I also think it is really cool that Kaia was so happy and fun to have along despite the cold and late conditions. What a trooper!

I only wish we were able to find our camera so I could share pictures of this wild and crazy night. That would have definitely been one for the scrapbook. Although, I’m not sure exactly sure what kind of embellishments would be appropriate for that layout. If we go out again, I will be sure we take pix.

Upon our return just after midnight, our Native neighbors came out and congratulated us on the successful hunt. There were more people out on the streets than I had seen all week, and most of them were kids under 12! I so don't get this place. Anyway, we explained that we didn't actually kill the caribou, and they shared stories of how hard it is to actually "catch a tutu." They seemed impressed with our resoursefullness and willingness to even go out in the first place.

I would love to see Ben come home with a prize caribou rack and we could certainly use the meat. However, I can't help but feel gratitude that we aren't responsible for any waste, that we don't have a freezer overfilled with meat I'm not sure how to prepare, and that the tutu are still running.