I Went to the Woods: Date night in the alpine

Published 4:30 am Saturday, September 19, 2026

My summer exercise had been the constant movement of varying, hauling, holding, sawing, drilling, pounding, cutting and whatever else needed to be done at the cabin build site. None of that prepares you for an alpine hunt. Lunges, squats and rucking can keep things tight and ready, but only the mountain prepares you for the mountain.

Abby and I found a steady pace and stopped a few times, once when I was distracted by a pair of grouse and another when we had a view of the alpine and could glass.

Abby’s parents were visiting from Massachusetts, so we chose camping in the alpine for our date night; our first together since our daughter was born 2 years ago.

It was nice to be hunting with my wife again.

When Haleigh was not quite one, we spent seven nights at the Mendenhall campground, zipping her into a puffy suit that made her look Everest ready. Then the seasons split and melted away. We daytripped when we had babysitters, but for the most part one of us watched H as the other adventured.

We made camp near water and we settled into our old rhythm. I put up the tent, she started filtering water then boiled some for dinner. We found a decent view of the shady side of the mountain while we ate. We didn’t see any deer, but it was nice to be in the alpine with my wife.

We backed out then made our way up higher on the mountain and posted up in a patch of trees that gave a better view of the shaded mountain. I turned restless, as I usually do, and suggested we move again. We climbed higher and approached the peak. Down off the western side were a few mountain goats and the dying sun.

We looked and pointed. What an evening.

I had hoped we’d happen upon a buck that would be curious about what was waking through the dying deer cabbage, but the buck I saw was tearing off down the slope before I could collect a single thought.

“That can’t be the only buck up here.”

We continued, now in the fading light. I proposed cutting down and across the shaded face toward camp rather than loop back to the west. It was steep but we could see and I’d been on the mountain a few times so I had geographical awareness.

We stopped occasionally to look around but the hunt was over for the day. We’d have to wake up early and find a buck before the heat of the day drove them into the cover.

We broke through a streak of buck brush and I caught the smooth flank of a deer standing out against the brush from which it came. I lifted my binoculars.

“Nice buck, I’m going.”

I dropped my back, which you should never do but I figured I had to move quickly and Abby would have the sense to stay with my pack.

I dropped over a mound and side-hilled as fast as I could, staying slightly below the buck but right along an edge of brush. When I popped up, it was quartering to me. I propped my rifle on my bipod and took more time than I usually do to get settled. The crosshairs kept moving, so I adjusted the leg of the bipod and everything froze. By the time Abby got to me with my pack the mountain was purple in dusk. We processed the deer with one headlamp because I left mine at camp. Yes, it sure was nice to be hunting with my wife again.

Jeff Lund is a freelance writer based in Ketchikan. His book, “A Miserable Paradise: Life in Southeast Alaska,” is available in local bookstores and at Amazon.com. “I Went to the Woods” appears twice per month in the Juneau Empire.