I was crouched down in the soggy, spongy tundra of the Illiamna mountain range stalking a herd of caribou. It was late August, the ground was completely saturated and it had been raining for days. We were to have been picked up by our pilot three days earlier, but flying with VFR in fog so thick you could only see about 50 yards made that an impossibility. We were stuck…cold, wet, and getting low on food and water.
I stood in disbelief as the three does kept feeding around me less than twenty yards away. That might not be so amazing had I been in a blind or a tree stand, but I was in the middle of an open weed field with absolutely no cover. I’d snuck up on them in the last moments of daylight heading back to my truck while hunting in S.E. Ohio. I watched them mill around for about a minute, trying to figure out what I was, but I knew one thing for sure…they did not see me as a human predator in blue.