Jake Jacobson - Alaska Hunting: Earthworms to Elephants

Foreword

J ake Jacobson is a true Alaskan legend...so its a little strange that I first met him on a mountain above the Arizona desert. But maybe not so strange, because winter in Arizona is a lot more pleasant than winter in Alaska! But, strange or not, I first met James P.just call me JakeJacobson while hunting Coues deer north of Tucson with our mutual friend Duwane Adams (himself a legend among Arizona hunters).

Its amazing how time flies. That was more than thirty years ago. Were all a bit older. Jake and I are both redheads, but his signature beard is showing a bit more silver than red these days. Maybe mine would, too, if I had the capability to grow one...but, as a favorite actor and director said, A mans got to know his limitations. Even thirty years ago I didnt have enough time left to match Jakes whiskers!

For me its been a busy life in a busy world and I have few regrets, but one of them is not havingor takingmore time to spend with people whose company Ive enjoyed, and who I admire. Jake Jacobson is one of those people and, oddly, Duwane Adams who introduced us is another. But life is funny that way. Through various circumstances you can be with a person almost constantly, but never consider him or her a friendand you can have genuine friends that you see only rarely. I feel privileged to have long considered Jake Jacobson such a friend.

I do have sort of an unspoken pact with the many guides and outfitters Ive known over the years: They do what they do, and I do what I do. Meaning: They do the guiding and outfitting; I write the stories. Jake is not the first to have broken that pact (and probably not the last)...but Im glad that he did. He is, in fact, and not just because I call him such, an Alaskan legend. Unlike me, a simple scribe, Jake has a story to tell...and it turns out that he tells it very well. As he should.

Ive been a writer for a very long time now (I never said a good writer, but Ive made my living at it since before I met Jake). Although I do indeed have an English degree, one of the things I think I have learned is that good writing doesnt come from fancy schools; its more a knack than a skill, and Im not sure its a skill that can be learned. On the other hand, despite spell check and grammar check, in this day and age a prospective writer is better off knowing how to write a straight sentence. Jake Jacobson, Alaskan Master Guide Number 54 (a low number) is actually an educated man. More to the point, he is far more educated than I!

He is, in fact, a doctor of dentistry, one of three legends in Alaskan guiding who, essentially, came north to fix teeth and go hunting...and stayed for the hunting. The other two, both friends of Jakes, are Tony Oney and Jim Hoppy Harrower. Like Tony and Hoppy a few years earlier, Jake learned Alaska by traveling throughout the new state, giving dental care to villages that rarely see a real dentist. But even then, in 1967, he was already an Assistant Guide, the first step in Alaskas hierarchy. In 1972 his status improved to Registered Guide, and in 1984 he made the lofty step to Master Guide (Number 54). As we said in the military, thats a terminal rank with no further promotion possible. In time Jake forsook dentistry for outfitting but, as youll see in this collection of stories, he retained the innate knack for telling a story...and the learned skill to write a straight sentence.

Aside from technical skills, however, there is one more ingredient required for a writer: He must have a story to tell. Novelists make them up, and I admire (and envy) their imagination. The rest of us can only tell true stories, our own or someone elses. In this book Jake tells his own story. He tells it well, with both knack and skill...and his is an enviable story to tell. He hit Alaska at a good time, shortly after statehood, and he matured with modern Alaskawhich remains radically different from the Lower 48.

He is not the first longtime Alaskan guide to write his memoirs, and Im quite sure he will not be the last. But as I think you will see, very few have retold the journey with as much fun as Jake Jacobson. Elsewhere in this volume he will tell about my short journey on the doomed ship Leprechaun...Oh, Lord, I dont think I take myself too seriously, but I dont expect practical jokes before the hunt even starts.

And then there was the day when we were working our way along a steep hillside. We took a break beside a bubbling brookI was more than ready for a breather, but there was no way I could ask for one, so I was relieved when Jake shrugged off his pack and bent down to take a drink. Then he got excited, digging furiously in the sand and triumphantly showing me the small gold nugget he had captured.

Its Alaska, theres gold in every stream (and mastodon tusks at every bend). Greed is an amazing force, and I bought into it for several seconds too long. Then I got it. Hes a dentist; he works with gold. He has fillings-in-training to salt (from a vial in his shirt pocket) for gullible pilgrims. We had a good laugh and we moved on. And thats the beauty of this collection of stories of the Alaskan wilderness. Some are funny, some are serious, and some are scary...so youll laugh, cry, and shiver...and then youll move on. And long before youre done you will understand why James P. Jake Jacobson, Alaskan Master Guide Number 54, truly deserves the oft-bestowed, but rarely earned, title of legend.

Craig Boddington

Elk City, Kansas

June 2013

Map credit: Jenelle Bess Jacobson

Writing this collection of short stories

S o many times I have been told by others that they planned to write a book. In most cases, I was anxious to see what they had to say. In very few cases did they actually ever write anything at all. I, too, considered writing a book, but avoided mentioning it, as I didnt want to join the ranks of those whose deeds did not match their words. Besides, everyone has their own life stories. Why would mine be of interest to anyone but myself?

I had the pleasure of taking Patrick McManus, the great American outdoor humor writer, fishing in my boat F/V LADY SASQUATCH, a few years back. The time we spent together was totally delightful. In person, he was just as the character described in his stories.

I asked him about writing, which he was teaching at Eastern Washington State University in Spokane. He said, in his case, writing did not come easily. He sequestered himself in his room, forbidding any interruptions and hammered his stuff out, word by word. He was personally very disciplined, unlike most of his characters.

A story of his fishing trip with my sister and me appeared in Outdoor Life and I emailed him a spoofy attempt at communicating in his type of humor. He was most generous in his comments to me.

In the dozen or so years that have passed since that day with Patrick, I have tortured myself with the idea of writing a book. Where would I begin? How could I string a collection of some of the significant parts of my life together, making it worthwhile for others to spend time reading? Like most of life, the answer to that question was fairly simple. Just as we gut and clean fish and rabbits one at a time, I would write my stories, one at a time. I would focus on short stories, rather than any sort of novel or autobiography. A bite at a time - hopefully properly chewed before swallowing.

Some of my friends, amateur would-be writers, too, told me how rigorous the process of using an editor and actually getting the book into print had proved to be. Months or years might be required. Costs escalated as the time spent on their project dragged on.

I resolved to not have anything printed just to satisfy my ego If I could invest a reasonable amount of time and money and have a chance at breaking even, well, I just might do that.