Hunter Stories
- Sheep Grand Slam
- If We Live Through This…
- The Story of 4 Guides, 4 Dogs, and a Hunter
- BC’s Southwestern Mountains Kick Your Butt!
- A Hell of A Hunt!
- Two Bucks in Seven Days
- It Never Hurt So Good
- Phantom Bighorn Ram
- Initiation into the Sport of Hunting
- A Quest to Find My Dream Tom
- My First Hunting Trip out West (aged 12)
- Never Say Die
- Onto a Good Thing
- Blaze of “Bear” Glory
- A Healthy Tonic
- The Eighth Day of a Seven Day Hunt
- Cougar Hunting — Ringside Seats
- We Will Meet Again
- Every Day Hero
- As Good as it Gets
- Bow Hunting Vs Rifle Hunting
- Experience of a Lifetime
- You Kick Butt!
- A Special Touch
- What a Beauty!
- Good Luck Charm works a Charm
- Hunting as I Know It
- Lightning Does Strike Twice
Sheep Grand Slam
My quest to take the Grand Slam began back in 2003. During a phone call with Jack Atcheson, Jr. about some different hunt possibilities, Jack said, “Hey David, what do you think about hunting sheep?” Jack is something of a sheep fanatic and by the next day we were finalizing the bookings for four sheep hunts over the next several years. If I had only known what I was getting into.
In October 2009, my friend and hunting buddy Thad Steele and I flew from El Paso, Texas to Vancouver, then drove six hours northeast to hunt California bighorns with B.C. Trophy Mountain Outfitters. This was my third hunt for the Rocky Mountain/California bighorn. The ranch accommodations and staff were excellent and the horses were more gentle and conditioned than any I had ever ridden.
Thad and I separated to hunt in different mountain ranges with our own crews. It snowed the first two days and made hunting more difficult. Unfortunately, Thad became ill and had to return to Texas after two days of hunting. My guide, Guido, and I hunted the northern area for eight days, seeing many ews and lambs, before seeing a young ½ curl ram. The weather was brutally cold and it snowed most of the time.
We decided to pack up camp and move to the eastern area where Thad had hunted. We joined up with Russ Floyd, Thad’s guide, and were at it again. The first evening in the new area, we saw 70 ewes and lambs and 3 young rams tending the group. One of the rams was just shy of a legal ¾ curl. The next morning, the weather socked in and stayed for several days, making it impossible to hunt the peaks and ridges around us. So much time and preparation had gone into this trip that the bad weather and lack of visibility were beginning to weigh on me as there was only a few days left in the season.
The morning of October 18th started the same as the last three days: foggy and wet. We couldn’t see 300 yards from the spike cabin. The decision was made to saddle up and ride, in hopes that the weather would break. Riding a tall gray gelding named Pearson, I couldn’t believe the horses were able to push through the two foot snow drifts. By noon, the clouds and fog were lifting and we could see the peaks of the Mountains rising up above the snowy landscape. The scenery was breathtaking. We topped out and began glassing. We spotted several ewes and lambs. A large black bear wandered aimlessly on the snowy ridge. No rams.
We hiked for several more hours when we spotted a band of nine rams feeding up a distant ridge 1,000 yards away! They hadn’t seen us. We quickly worked our way down to a knob closer to the rams. They were now bedded down about 600 yards away, with nothing but blue sky and snow between us and them. There was no chance to get closer and we were running out of daylight. It was decided that our only hope was for Guido to quickly head down, around and back up a far ridge on the other side of the rams in order to try and push them up the ridge towards us. Guido got into position and waved his arms in view of the rams. Immediately the rams stood up and took notice. Three of the rams spooked and ran away in the wrong direction.
We knew it was now or never. I settled in to take a shot at the largest of the six remaining rams, still 600 yards away. After the snow cleared from the muzzle blast, it was obvious I had missed. He was now skylined and ready to disappear over the ridge. I quickly took another shot. Missed again! At that distance it was hard to compensate for the cross winds we were experiencing. Thirteen days and I had just missed my only opportunity. I fought back panic.
Then suddenly the six rams turned and began running straight towards us.
They associated the gun shots with Guido on the far ridge and were escaping in our direction.
Russ and I sprinted around the face of the mountain to find a vantage point where we might be able to cut them off.
They came out below us running away at 400 yards.
Winded, I gasped a lungful of air and held my breath as I steadied myself and settled the crosshairs on the back of the lead ram.
I squeezed the trigger as gently as possible.
He fell out of the line of running sheep and began to tumble down the mountain.
The other five rams never broke stride and continued their escape.
My ram came to rest several hundred yards down the steep slope.
The hollering and screams from Guido, Russ and myself echoed off the snow covered mountains and canyons for some time.
He was a beautiful 9-year-old ram and the obvious leader of the band.
Most importantly, he was now mine and the culmination of my dream to harvest the four wild sheep of North America.
So … that last hunt in September, 2009, where I was able to take Number Four, the last of my Grand Slam. It took 84 days in the field (110 days including travel) over six years to accomplish this goal. What an amazing journey it has been. I will always treasure the people I have met, the places I have been and the adventures of the pursuit. All of this I owe to the patience and support of my lovely wife, Anne, and our three sons.
If We Live Through This…
My best friend, Ed Hersey, and I have been hunting together longer than either of us care to admit and we’ve hunted successfully all over the world. Ed and I have been looking forward to our goat hunt since the fall of 2002 while we were still physically able to. Many goat hunting articles stressed the physical difficulty of such a hunt. So being over the mid century mark, it was now or never.
We chose this outfitter after numerous telephone conversations with various outfitters in Canada and Alaska, and checking references through SCI.
Our adventure began when we arrived in Vancouver and journeyed to the beautiful mountains of southwestern British Columbia. The scenery during the ride to the Ranch was breathtaking. Frank, our driver, shared many of his own hunting adventures with us and was an excellent tour guide. It’s always amazed me how hunters seem to bond in a very short period of time. It must be the shared sense of adventure and love of the outdoors.
At the ranch we were introduced to our hunting guides for the week, assigned our horses, and fitted with riding gear. Ed would ride “Big Blue” and I drew a beautiful bay named “Rowdy”. They were magnificent animals in peak of condition. We re-checked the rifles on a range, ate a great meal, met with other hunters and our host, and had a good night’s sleep in the mountain air.
After saddling and packing the horses, we began the trip into the mountains. After a couple hours in the saddle, the sun appeared and gave us breathtaking views over the valleys and surrounding mountains. Pictures and descriptions cannot convey the beauty of the country. One has to experience it first hand.
Perhaps, the most amazing part of the trip into the camp was the horses. We took the horses places we never dreamed possible. Or should I say they took us. At several points along the narrow trails we would be looking down into the steep craggy valleys. In a few short hours of riding these horses, we increased our horsemanship ten-fold. The climb by foot is where we felt the difference in the air and altitude and Ed and I began to doubt if our pre-hunt training had been enough.
Our hunt would begin each morning when we would saddle the horses and ride out of camp to the mountaintops. The first couple of days, we found climbing by foot up the rocky step slopes to be difficult, but after three days, our bodies adjusted to the altitude and the climbing became less of a problem. We still could not keep pace with our guides. Their level of fitness was remarkable. Several times we joked as to whether they were in a hurry to meet dates or just wanted to show who were the old men.
As my guide and I climbed, we spotted a lone goat just below the ridge top. The goat looked down at us feeling secure in the fact that it was higher and that we appeared to be at a safe distance. We positioned ourselves behind some large rocks and brought out the spotting scope and range finder. From my shooting position we determined the shot to be 323 yards. Having the confidence in my Sig Sauer 300 Win Mag. and Kahles scope, I determined the bullet drop and wind allowance for the 180 grain Federal Premium Safari ammo. My guide wanted to make sure that this goat was a worthy shooter by reviewing several angles through his spotting scope. The goat stood looking at us for what appeared to be a lifetime.
What a great thrill, and a great trophy. The goat was 7 years old with horns measuring 8 inches. The trip out of camp was another amazing experience. Thank goodness for great horses and experienced guides.
To describe this hunt in one word would be “incredible”. It was physical, very demanding, and the natural beauty of the land is absolutely unforgettable. Throughout the hunt Ed kept saying, “If we live through this, it is going to be a great story”. I could not agree with him more. The guides were extremely competent and the horses amazing. I cannot leave out the one factor that really makes an adventure of any kind a great experience. That is, sharing the adventure, stories, and memories with a truly great friend.
Ohio, USA Back to topThe Story of 4 Guides, 4 Dogs, and a Hunter
The adventure began right from the get go. Early to rise at 6 am, myself and my two guides headed out after a hearty and filling breakfast. The temperature was falling, as we drove the skidoos across the mountain ridges the wind-chill factor decreased the temperature.
We raced around the mountain searching for tracks, but the 5 inches of new powder snow made it difficult to distinguish cougar tracks from wolf or bobcat. Nonetheless, with my lead guide’s years of experience and expertise he was able to locate a cougar track which had crossed a skidoo trail that he had made the previous day.
My guides then made a circle around the area on the skidoo to ensure that the cougar had not left the area. When he found no tracks heading out of his circle, the guides knew we had the cat surrounded and it was time to call in all hands and dogs. The outfitter and an assistant guide raced out of the ranch with all 4 dogs in tow.
Off went the dogs following the tracks, doing what they were born to do. They ran for 600 yards but hit a snag. The cougar has crossed an area of dead fall that was 8 feet deep. The dog’s howls were a sure sign that they were desperate to follow that cougar. One of the guides found a set of tracks heading out of the dead fall, and the dogs were on track again.
Another set back arises when the dogs reach another area of deadfall reaching 6 feet deep and 100 yards across. But they find the cougar tracks 400 yards along a side hill and they are back on track. The cougar tracks proceed right in front of a bear’s den. At first glance the cougar looks like a female — a very furious female I might add.
We spend the next three hours trying to spot if it is a female or a male. The guides build a fire to keep warm. The dogs start to howl. The guides climb up a neighbouring tree to see the back end of the cougar. The outfitter is at the right angle and he knows for certain that it’s a male. The cougar is a big tom, it takes four guys to haul the cat 75 yards up-hill to the waiting skidoo.
Michigan, USA Back to topBC’s Southwestern Mountains Kick Your Butt!
I thought Montana was beautiful, but the wilds of southwestern British Columbia are even more spectacular!
I was on my mountain horse, a fine Cayuse animal, headed for camp on the first day of a 7-day mountain goat hunt. My very capable guide was up ahead leading the way for five days in the mountains.
We arrived at camp midday where my guide took me for my first climb to get acclimated. For five days we hunted at the high altitude camp, and then headed down to the trailhead on the evening of the fifth day to shower up at main camp and scope.
On the morning of the sixth day of my hunt, we went to scope out a new area that hadn’t been hunted in quite a time. After five days of scoping and looking through my binoculars, I was pretty good at locating the "white spots" up the mountain. My guide, on the other hand, was quite adroit with the eyeglasses.
We got out the spotting scope and found what we thought was a pretty good-sized goat about a mile or so away. We decided to go take a look. Being a 56 year-old in pretty good shape from running regularly, I found the mountains of British Columbia can kick your butt. My guide was like Godzilla going up and down, but he (I know) kept his gait to my level. I told my guide about halfway up the mountain that I was coming down only if I was carrying something on my shoulders, even if it was him!
When we got to the top and looked for my prize, he was no where to be found. Had he gone over the top? That is always a concern when you go after aloof animals — will they be there still when you get there? After a frantic minute or so, we found our “billy” had turned around, sat down, and was lying behind a tree with only his face showing.
It turned out that we had a perfect set up to hopefully execute a successful ending. The goat was a mature male and looked really large! He was lying 302 yards straight across from us on a sheer, steep cliff. He never knew we were there. I set up for a shot with a perfect rest. My guide was at the ready with some extra bullets if needed.
I was ready. After a two-hour hike and six days of climbing I was steady and confident. Only one problem — the goat didn’t offer me a shot, so we waited. While passing the time, my guide asked me if I had looked at his new “super duper” skinning saw/knife. I looked at him, then half-serious said, “… I’m a little busy right now!” We both cracked up. It was the highlight of our trip together.
The goat still hadn’t moved, and it looked like he wasn’t about to either. My guide got up, hiked out on a point 40 yards away, and started yelling and making noise. The goat turned his head to the disturbance below. My guide couldn’t get the goat to get up. After about a ten minute serenade by my guide (some of which is unprintable) the goat stood up. My guide told me to proceed, which I immediately began to do. My first shot hit its intended target.
I was elated. The hunt was even more exciting that I dreamt it would be. We exchanged “atta-boys,” and went to gather up our billy! After another three to four hours we got to the bottom. I was exhausted — my guide was like the ever-ready rabbit, still raring to go.
It was magnificent. I left British Columbia and my hunt with only good thoughts and a big smile. Thanks to my guide, thanks to the outfitter. I’ll be back.
California, USA Back to topA Hell of A Hunt!
In September I left for one of my best hunting trips up in British Columbia. The plane ride was long but when I finally arrived at camp the weather was great, the sun was shining, and the temperature was warm. Being here on the ranch was almost overwhelming.
Early the next morning, we rode into camp where we set up to hunt and glass sheep. While we were preparing for the rams we had already seen six, only one legal, but I still had a feeling this was going to be a trip worth taking. A few hours had passed and we went back to camp to plan our strategies on how we were going to catch up to these rams.
While we were doing our planning the weather slowly started to get worse, and before long it started getting windy and the snow and rain started to fall. The fog was taking over … but it wasn’t going to stop us from hunting. Luckily we had no rain, snow, or wind for four days, only fog. There’s no doubt this weather did get discouraging but thanks to my guide, who kept my hopes high I was able to complete my trip with success. Not only did he keep my hopes high but I’m also sure he kept his own high as well because this had been the worst weather in years.
Despite the on again, off again, rain, snow, wind, and fog on the twelfth day of the hunt, my guide, spotted a beautiful ram standing in the fog. When he pointed this ram out to me, I thought, “this is definitely the one.” So, we quietly slid down the mountain, in the snow, and made our way to the ram about 800 yards down. At 400 yards I had a clear shot. I took my time, trying not to get over excited before I fired and I made sure I was in the perfect position. When I fired I had a great connection, everything went wonderfully.
I can’t even begin to explain the rush of excitement that went through my body when I realized the connection was great. This was one of my best trips and I would love to come back as many times as possible. Hunting in British Columbia is an experience I think that everyone should witness. “It was a hell of a hunt!”
New Jersey, USA Back to topTwo Bucks in Seven Days
This past September my uncle, Allen Martin and I decided to book a hunt in the beautiful mountain range of southwestern British Columbia, Canada. We write to thank this outfitter for his hospitality and tenaciousness in providing us with a quality mule deer hunt.
During our hunt we encountered several grizzly bear sightings. We had quality guides and equipment, the views were absolutely stunning, and — oh yea — harvested two quality bucks in our seven day hunt!
As the hunt drew to a close, I reminisced about the numerous hunts that my uncle and I have shared through the years and came to the conclusion that this hunt would be one of the most memorable.
I highly recommend this outfitter for their hunting, trail (or lack there of a trail) riding, and sightseeing to anyone who seeks a great hunting adventure!
Back to topIt Never Hurt So Good
Let me start by wishing both of you and all the wonderful staff the happiness of holidays! Please tell them they are a huge part of what made my hunting adventure so fantastic!
The photographs you sent me turned out great — thank you very much. Everyone that I’ve shown them to can’t believe the size of the goat. Almost every response is the same as when I first laid eyes on him: “holy @#$%* — look at the size of the head on that thing!!.” He certainly is impressive. Most people assume that mountain goats are only about a hundred pounds, based on the mounts they’ve seen at our local sporting goods stores. I guess you can imagine their surprise when they saw the size of that beauty you found for me.
I do apologize for one thing, my smile was the best I could muster due to the pain I was suffering from in my legs. But, I assure you it never hurt so good!
The memories are forever with me and will easily be recalled for the rest of my life. This truly was the greatest hunting experience/adventure of a lifetime.
Tell everyone I said hello and can’t wait to see all of you again.
Pennsylvania, USA Back to topPhantom Bighorn Ram
“A full curl plus bighorn ram came out of the swirling snow and fog. He marched up the hill straight towards me. He couldn’t see me because of the blowing snow and whiteout conditions. I watched until he was 50 yards out. My guide leaned forward so I could use the height of his backpack to clear the crest of the ridge we were hiding behind. I lined up on the ram’s shoulder and touched one off. Snow flew off the ram from the shock of the bullet”.
I had taken a dall sheep in the Yukon in 1995 and a stone sheep in Toad River in 1998. Then, I started hunting California Bighorn in southwestern British Columbia.
My first fourteen-day hunt was October of 2001. It was a camp based horseback hunt. We hunted above the treeline. It consisted of twelve hours a day of riding and glassing, and riding some more. I had two different opportunities at full curl plus rams. I shot at both rams but failed to connect. One ram spun around as though he was hit but he ran away okay.
In 2002, I was back again same time, same place. I saw lots of ewes, lambs, and � curls, but I was after those full curl rams I saw the previous year. Again I shot at two different rams but they sidestepped my bullets.
Still determined, I was back again in 2003 to hunt bighorn rams but this time on a different mountain range with the same outfitter. Again I had full curl rams in my scope. This time I didn’t go after them because I couldn’t ride my horse into the area they were in — suicide ridge is what I called the area.
In 2004 I’m back to my favorite camp. This camp is central to the sheep herds. I’m riding my favorite horse Dash, a Cayuse mountain horse from the wild horse herds 30 miles north of camp. I’m with my favorite guide, a 6′ 6″ 260 pound mountain man they call Grizz. He’s been my guide for three years now, and I would follow him anywhere, anytime.
My first hunt day was in a blizzard with six inches of snow. The next 12 days were the same. I love the cold and the snow, and I love riding the mountaintops spotting sheep. I’m always on the lookout for the big one.
Each day we saw ewes, lambs, and young rams, and a few too many grizzly bears. Each day started with a new blizzard, and each day my guide would say, “So you want to be a sheep hunter? Let’s go, it’ll be a walk in the park.” The sheep started to bunch up more with each new storm. This happened on my previous hunts, so with each day I knew the big rams were soon to arrive.
Day 10 I see my first full curl ram. A monster if ever I saw one. Black body, long lamb tips 2″ to 3″ above the bridge of his nose. We see him on the distant mountain and he’s travelling. We try to get him in range, but darkness falls on us too soon. We decide to try for him in the morning.
We head out early back to the last spot where we saw him. We glass as we move through the mountains — nothing. The storm must have driven him on. We stop and set up to glass from the top of an 8,000 foot mountain peak until a wolf comes into view. I have a tag for this very situation and try out my long range shooting skills. It was close but no cigar.
We continue glassing. A half-hour later a ram appears through the swirling snow. He’s 400 yards below, and he’s heading our way. We hunker down just below the crest of the mountain and wait. The big ram keeps coming. This is a heavy broomed ram, a different one from yesterday. We’re on the peak of the mountain with our horses behind us. We can watch the ram no matter where he goes.
“Get ready, he should be here any minute” says my guide. Like a phantom, this full curl plus bighorn ram comes out of the swirling snow and fog and marched up the hill straight towards me. He doesn’t see me because the snow has caused a whiteout. I watch until he is 50 yards out. My guide leans forward so I can use the height of his backpack to rest my 270 rifle on. I can then clear the crest of the ridge we were hiding behind. I line up on the ram’s shoulder and touch one off. We had him!
Grizz and I go down to check out this phantom of the high peaks. He’s majestic and massive — all 300 plus pounds. He’s 11 years old and beautiful with a heavy mass carried out � of the curl. He’s 2″ over full curl on one side. A bullet hole through the bottom of the other curl which looks to be a couple years old.
I shot at a full curl ram on the same date in 2001, no more than 600 yards from where I got this ram. The ram in 2001 spun around like he was hit, but he ran okay and there was no blood. I’d put money down that this was the same ram that I shot at in 2001. It was nice of him to give me another opportunity.
California USA*At age 76, Don epitomizes a sheep hunter in every way — from his toughness to his perseverance. Don, you set the standard and are an inspiration for all hunters. Thank you for hunting with all of us!
Back to topInitiation into the Sport of Hunting
My wife and I arrived for lunch and on the first day our guides decided we would go for a short drive to check on the movement of bears before our first day of hunting.
A light snow began to fall. We were just about to return to the ranch when the guides spotted a terrific black bear ahead along the road. Although visibility was poor, I managed to shoot it.
The next four days were spent searching for an elusive brown bear to complete the hunt. Again, towards the end of the day, my guide spotted a cinnamon bear running towards the bluff as it curved away from the edge. I managed to bring it down with one shot. It was a beautiful colour.
My wife certainly got her initiation into the sport! With three days left we decided to go mountain goat spotting and fishing, rounding off our hunt with a beautiful scenic flight around the hunting areas.
We were most impressed with the total dedication of the guides, so much so that we brought our eldest son back with us in November and he shot a five point mule deer on the first afternoon. Like father like son. I wasn’t so successful. Some you win, some you lose, but hey — that’s hunting. Like General MacArthur, we shall return!
Hants, UK Back to topA Quest to Find My Dream Tom
On an incredibly hot day in the summer, my thoughts were cold and frosty as I worked on clients’ mounts from the previous fall. This particular day I was working on a huge cougar that was taken in Colorado the winter before. The shear beauty and strength of these animals overpowered me. From that moment on, a spark was ignited and I was on a quest to find an outfitter to guide me to my dream cat.
I wasted no time contacting my hunting partner and friend Steve Lindsay, who was immediately on-board. After a long search throughout North America we decided on this outfitter in southwestern British Columbia.
I spoke to the outfitter who owns and runs the outfit with a guide area in excess of over 2000 square miles — an unbelievably large piece of mountainous snow-capped real estate. The outfitter was friendly, informative, and straightforward. He gave me a list of previous cougar hunters as references to contact. All had been successful and gave high praise for his qualified team.
We were finally on our way to our long awaited hunt. The outfitter and his team of experienced guides worked hard all week. Our first morning hunting was textbook. We were up and out of the lodge early looking for cougar and the guides soon had a track located. By 10am we were racing through the woods following a pack of barking dogs.
Our long awaited cougar hunt was finally here! We followed the dogs for hours, zigzagging up and down the mountain in shin deep snow. All the while we were surrounded with picture postcard views. As Steve and I climbed over rock bluffs and under giant blow downs, all was going according to plan. Almost on cue, we heard the echo of the frantic dogs. They were still a distance, about a quarter of a mile straight up.
Steve and I were tired and sore but the sound of the barking dogs gave us new strength. We optimistically raced up the mountain to the unmistakable sound of the barking dogs that my guide assured us meant they had a cougar treed. This was truly a sight I’ll never forget: a huge tom patiently resting in a tree, seemingly unconcerned by the chaotic dogs below. It didn’t take Steve long to get into position, he made a good shot and he had his beautiful mature tom. Our days had been both long and exhausting, but exciting and well worth the effort. That evening we celebrated Steve’s good fortune and an outstanding chase.
Here we go again! Hopes were once again soaring high. The guides were eager to get out of the lodge early, leaving slightly before sunrise with the light snow still falling. Steve and I were just setting off with the outfitter that morning when we were told us that one of the guides had just located a large track. My luck was certainly changing.
Upon closer observation the guides discovered there had been 2 cougars, a tom and a female. Once the guides worked out which direction the tom was going we started our chase, being careful not to get them confused. Like clockwork, my cougar was treed after a short chase of only an hour or so. I finally had my long awaited cat, a large old tom, ending a classic cougar hunt.
This hunt far exceeded my expectations. To say I would highly recommend this outfitter is an understatement, anyone who has hunted with them will know just how much effort they put into each and every hunt. Everything is thoroughly planned. They certainly do live up to their obligations. Steve and I are looking forward to returning for a mountain goat hunt in the future.
New York, USA Back to topMy First Hunting Trip out West (aged 12)
My dad and I headed west for my first hunting trip for mountain goats in southwestern British Columbia.
Flying over the Rockies was amazing. It was my first time ever seeing them. That made me more excited to see the mountains of British Columbia. The closer we got to the ranch, the mountains got bigger. The second we got there, the owners came out to greet us. I was a little shy in the beginning, but all the staff made me feel so welcome.
After dinner, we met our guide. The next day we set off to the valley where we saw 18 mountain goats. They were amazing, jumping from rock to rock on the top of the mountain. Since they were nannies and kids, we didn’t go after them. We also saw five moose that day.
The next day we went back to the valley. On the way we saw a goat on the mountain by itself. We figured it was a billy, so we hiked up toward it. We climbed all the way up through the alders. We were supposed to go up above it and shoot down at it. My dad and I were huffing and puffing so we took a break. We couldn’t see him when he was lying down, but when he stood up he was only 50 yards away. My dad grabbed the gun and shot. Our guide ran up to see if we got it, but it was two clean misses.
The next morning we were searching for another mountain goat. Again we spotted one right away. We could tell it was a billy. Our guide was right, he was within two hundred feet of where he was yesterday. We started up the mountain. It was a little easier because we were used to the altitude this time. Five and a half hours later we were where we wanted to be. We went a little farther around the edge and it was right there, just 52 yards below us. Now the goat started to run. My dad ran around the cliff and I followed him because I was video taping it. We went down to inspect the goat and it turned out to be a big billy with eight and a half inch long horns and a six-inch base horn.
The next day we chilled out. I went bareback riding on a horse with another guide. Then she let me shoot a biathlon gun. The next day we went off to a camp. It was my first time riding a horse. It took six hours to ride to the camp, my butt was killing me! The next day we had some breakfast and headed for another four hours back to the ranch. The next day we were sad to leave. During the whole trip we saw four black bears, 14 mule deer, 57 mountain goats, eight moose, two coyotes, and two eagles. I’m so glad my dad brought me here for my first hunting trip. It was AWESOME!
New York, USA Back to topNever Say Die
First of all before I forget, everybody’s attitude up here is absolutely great. The organization is unreal. The guides are very knowledgeable and they’re in better shape than I could ever dream of being in. Everything is smooth sailing and well organized, and everyone knows what they’re going to do, when they’re going to do it, and how they need to do it. It makes for such a relaxing atmosphere and hunt.
Just an hour before dark, we saw what was an exceptionally large billy. I just watched the expression on the guide’s face and I knew right away that it was an above average sized animal. But these hills or I should say mountains are way too steep to start an hour before dark.
So we came back the next morning, and we hadn’t gone more than 50 yards from where the billy was the day before. The mountain didn’t look so steep from the bottom until you get about half way up. My guide and I went up about half way through the timber and I thought I was in better shape than I was, but we had to stop a few times and it wasn’t the altitude it was the fat on the legs. Once we left the treeline the climbing really got tough. I spent as much time on my hands and knees as I did standing up and my guide kept saying we’ve got to go higher.
Well okay. The next thing you know, one leg tightens up, you keep going, then the other leg tightens up. And my thighs are like iron and it wasn’t from solid muscle. We decided we need to get up over this ledge and my guide went ahead to scout out a path and I followed. We got to the point where there was about 20 feet. There were very little leg holds and you had to hang onto the tree roots. I looked at him and said there is just no way in hell I can do this. He said just keep coming, hang on, and don’t look down. So basically that’s what I did. I kept telling myself that when I get to the top, the dream is going to come true. I’ve wanted a mountain goat since I was in the sixth grade and I’m 43 now. I was half tempted, as I was hanging on with both hands and thinking maybe I should grab onto another one with my mouth because I couldn’t feel anything beneath my feet. I thought how can I go any further? Then I see my guide straight up above me, so I crawled up. When I got to the top, it was quite a relief.
We went through the small junipers and we kept looking over the edges, we couldn’t see the goat at all. I stayed there and my guide kept looking and all of a sudden he looks over the edge and he didn’t even have to look at me, I could tell by the expression on the back of his head that the goat was right over the hill. He turned around and he had a Cheshire cat grin and I knew it had to be a nice one and he was close. So I snuck over. The goat was lying there, we ranged him at 104 yards, almost straight down and he was facing us. And I had the devil of a time trying to get an angle with the rifle because of the junipers and we were right on the edge. As it turned out I ended up wrapping one leg around a juniper and my other around another one and I thought if I slip I’m going to get it right in the crotch but at least I’m not going over the edge. I shot. I was taking a monster billy home with me.
The scenery out here is absolutely great, I’m looking out the window and I can see a mountain range with snow on the top and it’s absolutely beautiful. All the people up here have been great and especially the organization. I’ve been to camps before where everybody kind of wakes up and flies by the seat of their pants — they don’t know what’s going on or what they’re going to make for breakfast or anything. But these people, they know well in advance. I mean there is a set time, everything is well organized. I’m definitely coming back. There are other animals I would like to get as well, including the sheep and the cougar and we’ll see what happens.
I will say thanks to everybody. You’ve been great. All the guides have been absolutely great, and all the staff. And you guys are doing an excellent job, a top-notch outfit. Thank you very much.
Minnesota, USA Back to topOnto a Good Thing
On the first day we spotted a good-looking billy, but it was late so we went back on the second day. He was in the same area and we made a good stalk, but towards the end the clouds moved in and we couldn’t see over 50 feet.
We looked the next couple of days but never saw a real good billy, but on the fifth day we spotted a good-looking goat. We started the stalk. After a few hours of hard hiking and glassing we got to within 300 yards of the goat. My guide said it looked like a good one, so I shot it. It went down on the first shot. When we got up to it we realized it was a much longer billy than we thought!
When we made it to the bottom it was dark and we had to cross a river. We both got wet, but we made it, then another two-hour hike to the truck.
Thank you for an unforgettable adventure.
Minnesota, USA Back to topBlaze of “Bear” Glory
Thanks so much for a very interesting hunt. Frustrating at times but it finished in a blaze of glory! I took the thirtieth bear that I saw and the eighteenth coloured bear. I’ve never seen that many coloured bears.
The bear is at the taxidermist. He is a nice color and most important, not black!! I passed up a very nice light coloured bear the first night, which, in retrospect, I should have taken also.
I enjoyed hunting with my guide, as he is very capable. His eyes are as good as any guide I have ever had and that is saying a lot as I have been with many very good guides. I still don’t know how he could have seen this bear in thick clear cut at more than a half mile with naked eyes.
Shirley, my wife, enjoyed your lodge and the staff. She had a very relaxing time. She usually doesn’t eat much of the food that she cooks, but she sure ate up a storm at the lodge dinner table.
Minnesota, USA Back to topA Healthy Tonic*
As a registered nurse it’s been easy to consider good health from a strictly physical aspect, when in fact good health must be approached both physically and mentally.
As to spending a delightful, relaxing time at this camp, I’m getting fresh air, a good rest, healthy food and being with a happy, hunting husband! I can exercise daily and observe the beautiful mountains and have put in my mind some wonderful scenes I could paint.
The lodge is located in the beautiful mountains of southwestern British Columbia. It’s spectacular. The air is so fresh and clean, the natural water from the mountain snow is very good for all. There are horses to ride, paths to walk, very healthy food, and comfortable lodgings. It’s a healthy delight to be here for one week.
Minnesota, USA *Refer to above story by Erwin Brown Back to topThe Eighth Day of a Seven Day Hunt
My cougar hunt was one of the most extraordinary hunts I’ve ever had. The lodge was a great experience because of the accommodations and the people, which are employed by this organization.
Let me preface this with the fact that the guides never quit looking for a cougar for me. My lead guide found a fresh set of tracks, but it was too late in the day to allow the dogs to run. This was supposed to be my last opportunity to harvest a cougar, but before we got back to the lodge, it was already planned for me to hunt the next day. They took care of my ride so that I was to be picked up the following day.
The following morning, which was supposed to be everyone’s day off, we set off with the dogs at hand. The cougar was treed at the bottom of the mountain, which was approximately one and a half to three quarters of a mile down and approximately on a 60� to 70� angle. So, on the eighth day of a seven day hunt, I got my cougar. We started down by sliding most of the way. With my excitement mounting we were all able to make it with no problems.
Thanks to the four men whose dedication and extremely difficult work, made my cougar hunt successful. It was an experience I will never forget … the people, the scenery, and the hunt.
Illinois, USA Back to topCougar Hunting — Ringside Seats
As a hunter that has pursued large cats (leopard and lion) in other parts of the world, and owing a deep appreciation for good dog work, a January hunt in southwestern British Columbia with this outfitter was anticipated with great interest.
The focus of the hunt was to be mountain lion, but since bobcat and lynx are also common to the area that would be hunted, the area itself sounded excellent.
The first day of the hunt involved two of the guides and myself leaving camp headquarters at dawn, and taking two snow machines with us to cruise trails looking for fresh cat tracks.
While we didn’t see any fresh “cat” tracks the first morning, we did see some coyote out on the frozen reservoir, finishing off a mule deer they had pursued out on the ice. We also saw another bobcat.
We had proceeded to another trail where my guide took the remaining snow machine for a look. He returned 30 minutes later, indicating he had seen a track that looked like a cougar track. He notified the ranch to bring the four hounds to our location.
Shortly thereafter, they arrived with the four hounds. I was taken up the mountain near the track with one of the hounds. I noticed that the dog that was with me was quite restless. The hound’s nose started twitching, and by pulling the leash to the maximum length, the dog was able to stick his nose in one of the tracks. Having owned hunting dogs all my life (not hounds), I was watching very carefully. The dog lifted his head, nose really twitching, put his nose back into the track, pulled his head up, and started howling! I laughed a laugh of relief, realizing that an “expert” had just confirmed that the track was indeed a mountain lion!
This started the pursuit phase of the hunt. My guide and I stayed behind listening to the chase. Not long into things, we lost our ability to hear the dogs. We went around the mountain expecting the men and dogs were “over the hill”, but we couldn’t hear them from the other side either.
Shortly after, the cat was treed. We went back up the mountain as quickly as possible, driving the snowmobiles within about 100 yards of the tree the cat was in.
The cat elected to go to the very top of a very tall fir tree. Its size suggested it was a male, but because of the distance it was up the tree, it was difficult to tell.
After some time, the mountain lion decided it was time to come down, and so it did, head first, just like a squirrel. The outfitter, realizing what was happening, started to shout instructions to the other men in the party. Myself, being positioned some distance from the base of the tree the cat was in, I had a ringside seat for a very humorous sight. Here was this very large cat, heading straight down the tree, making excellent time and the outfitter was shouting to unleash the hounds and to beat on the trunk of the tree with large branches.
There must have been enough noise near the base of the tree to convince the cat that a return to the safety of the top branch made sense, so away it went back up. I had a good view of the rear end of the cat, and saw nothing that looked similar to the south end of a leopard/lion/tomcat as it headed north. I fully expected the outfitter to announce it was a really big female. When he announced it was a male, and to shoot, I questioned his determination of gender. The outfitter stated it was a male!
I used a very light weight Remington Model 700 Titanium rifle in 7MM-08. The five of us celebrated the harvest of a nice big male mountain lion. We guessed the age to be about six years old; the cat was in prime condition.
The outfitter was first class, with a great staff of people, excellent food, and very comfortable accommodations in their lodge. I’ve hunted quite a bit, and feel that this outfitter is one of those businesses where the owner is heavily enough involved to ensure a great experience for their clients.
Michigan, USA Back to topWe Will Meet Again
Maybe you still remember me. In 1995, I had the opportunity to hunt a bear with you.
Last Sunday I was watching a TV program in Germany about British Columbia, which I enjoyed very much. It was a good presentation of your country.
Lots of compliments from me about the way you present your ranch (which I was pleased to call also mine during my time there). I hope that many, many riders will come to see how wonderful and unique your country is.
It is said that one always meets each other twice in a lifetime — I hope this is to come true for me.
Best wishes to all of you from…
Osnabruck, Germany Back to topEvery Day Hero
I booked a late season December mule deer hunt in southwestern British Columbia. I’ve hunted extensively throughout North America and have had the good fortune of hunting with some excellent guides. Along with being an excellent game scout, my guide also proved to be in top condition, tough as nails, and a great companion.
On the first day of our hunt, we began hiking up a mountain along a small river. My guide called me over to the side of the trail and pointed to the middle of the freshly frozen river. Wow! What a predicament!
A three-by-four point buck had fallen through the thin ice and was swimming in about a fifteen foot circle, unable to get himself out! A sad sight indeed. He was doomed to a slow death by drowning if something couldn’t be done. Luckily, we had a large plastic wash tub and plenty of rope.
In my mind, this thing had catastrophe written all over it. If my guide broke through the thin ice, the current would pull him under and he’d be a goner for sure. What if the buck panics? If he attacks him with hoof and horn, he’s a sitting duck out there in the wash tub. Apparently, none of this crossed my guide’s mind. He just knew that something had to be done.
He tied a rope around his waist, climbed into the wash tub and used his hand axe to pull himself the twenty yards to the open water where the buck was frantically fighting for his life. As my guide chopped a channel back to shore, I gently pulled him with the rope. After a good 20 minutes of chopping, he had a three-foot channel to shore. We then circled around to the opposite side and began whistling and hollering, spooking the buck up the channel to safer ground. The buck stumbled several times when he got out, as he was totally exhausted, but it appeared he would live to fight another day.
P.S. On the fourth day of an excellent hunt, my guide put me in position to harvest a dandy four-by-five mule deer!
Wisconsin, USA Back to topAs Good as it Gets
Got a call from my agent, and told him that I was looking for a quality mule deer. He recommended I hunt with an outfitter in southwestern British Columbia.
After contacting the outfitter and working out all the details, it was off to Vancouver. The drive from Vancouver to the ranch was worth the trip. Beautiful, white capped mountains, glacier rivers, and cascading waterfalls. There was just an incredible view in every direction. At the ranch, I met the owner and was introduced to my guide. This whole opportunity definitely scores a perfect 10 on a 10 scale.
The lodging was very comfortable in a huge, rustic log lodge. The food and kitchen staff were as good as it gets. Huge dinners of roast turkey, roast beef, barbecue beef ribs, homemade lasagne, parmesan chicken, and meatloaf with homemade desserts! Carrot cake, blueberry and rhubarb cobbler with ice cream, date bars, and chocolate cake. Don’t plan on losing any weight on this hunt.
My guide and I hiked, climbed, and glassed the mountains. I saw several legal bucks and a bunch of does. I shot a really nice 4x4 buck on the fourth day of my hunt.
I stayed a few more days and got to go on a really exciting mountain lion chase with another Wisconsin hunter. After chasing the hounds for a couple hours, Brian took his first lion … a dandy tom! We had another excellent dinner, roast back straps from Brian’s lion. They were great!
I’ll definitely be hunting again with this outfitter whether its mule deer, mountain lion, black bear, California bighorn sheep, or mountain goats. You won’t be disappointed.
Wisconsin, USA Back to topBow Hunting Vs Rifle Hunting
There’s a difference between bow and rifle hunting. Bow hunting is more exciting because it’s more challenging. It gives you an adventure and a sense of purpose. The closer you get, your heart takes off and the adrenaline makes your legs shake! You’re in direct proximity with the bear which could turn on you at any moment. The rifle is challenging, but the bow can’t be matched.
What about after the adventure if you didn’t get a bear? Well, it doesn’t matter if you missed the seven footer. Stocking a small bear is an adventure. Not many people can say they’ve stocked a bear.
Three quarters of the battle is to get within shooting range with a bow. If you’re not successful with a bow, the adventure along with the rush is still there and you still have success. The thrill is better than picking the biggest apple.
The bear can’t hear your heart, you’re so fired up, and all you’re thinking about is not stepping on twigs. We saw the bear from across the valley. We stocked and judged it but we just couldn’t manage to see it clearly. We went 500 yards without seeing him, another 20 minutes went by, and then we heard a strange noise. We were close and it was intense! The bear came out right where he was supposed to!
I missed the bear but it didn’t bother me because it was so good an adventure. With a firearm you want the bear, with a bow you want the adventure. I’d rather have ten bow stocks than one rifle shot.
On the hunt I saw two wolves, four moose, three goats, tons of mule deer and coyote. Form is important with the bow. Jitters and wrist position change your shot. When bow hunting, you go in your socks because the bear can hear you — one step and you’ve screwed it!
Ohio, USA Back to topExperience of a Lifetime
To all the guides who so kindly and expertly treated us all — we can’t thank you enough for the great hunting experience. It truly has been an experience of a lifetime.
Please enjoy all of the pictures on the enclosed CD. There are some great scenery shots!
Thanks again for all the time and care that you took caping my deer!
Minnesota, USA Back to topYou Kick Butt!
“There’s a goat,” my guide informed me as he glassed the rugged mountainside. I swung my glasses around and quickly spotted the lone goat resting on a ledge. Although it was about two kilometers away, it looked good to my inexperienced eyes.
After locking onto the goat I heard him mutter that I should have a brick tied to my binoculars to prevent me from seeing too much. He explained that this particular mountain was quite rugged and you don’t want to go there.
The day before, we had taken a long hike up another mountain to glass for goats. That mountain topped out at around 7,500 feet and I was a bit sore from the climb and descent. I suspect that my guide was checking to see if I had what it takes to climb in this rugged country. Being 57 years old and a bit overweight probably doesn’t instil a lot of confidence in a guide. However, I’d been hiking on Mt. Adams in Washington State and was up to the task. Of course, my guide called it a walk in the park while I referred to it as a forced march.
After an hour of glassing, my guide thought it was in fact a billy of decent size. I said, “Let’s go for it.” So we packed up and began our climb. The first part, through the tall firs with its numerous fallen trees and huckleberry brush, wasn’t too bad and as we climbed the soreness left my legs. Next, we had to wind our way between two cliffs. The talus slopes were very steep and in fact “flatlanders” would probably swear they were part of the cliffs. After much sweating we reached the treeline. Here we encountered steep grassy slopes and long stretches of scree. At this point I thanked myself for deciding to wear my stiff hiking boots rather than my softer hunting boots.
The climb took about two hours and another half-hour of stalking put us close to the goat. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see it because of the curve of the slope and the stunted fir trees. The scree provided poor footing and we made a lot of noise as loose rocks tumbled down the mountain. This didn’t look good, and sure enough, as we peered around the last brush pile the goat was gone. At this point, I was quite disappointed.
After some glassing and a little thought, my guide felt that the goat had probably moved to the next small drainage to cool off from the warm sun. Sure enough, we picked up the tracks and the hunt was on.
As we were nearing the small drainage, my guide whispered, “There it is!” I peered over the fir trees and spotted the goat about a hundred yards above us slowly moving out of the drainage. Apparently, he had been drinking from the creek and was unaware of our approach. However, there was no doubt that he saw us now and several powerful leaps would put him over the next ridge. Incredibly he just continued his slow stately walk up the slope. This gave my guide time to ascertain his gender and size. With that, my guide told me I could shoot.
I had a poor rest but the first shot hit the goat and the second put him down. We were packed and ready to go. The traverse of the scree slope was tortuous. There were times when the only option was not to slip. Anything else would be disastrous. Finally, we made the relatively flat areas in the tall timber just before dark. This proved to be the hardest part, yet. Scrambling through the brush and over the downed timber was exhausting. At one point I thought to myself that we must be the only people to have ever been in this jungle. A short while later, I looked down and spotted something shiny buried in the ground. A closer look revealed an old hunting knife buried point down. What a strange discovery!
We reached the pickup and only then did I yell in exaltation at having accomplished such a difficult task.
Washington, USA Back to topA Special Touch
It was snowing through Washington and Oregon but we made it home safe and sound. Loved the winter adventure but I am more suited for Californian weather. My certificate for the ranch stay adventure is awesome! I’m proud to announce that my certificate has been framed and is proudly on my office wall. Richard is also proud of his moose! Thanks to each and everyone of you for your special touch to our adventure. Fondly,
California, USA Back to topWhat a Beauty!
Beautiful country. The mountains seem to be continuous. Fresh snow was an added pleasure. It really helped in the hunting. My guide gave his all with his perseverance, tenacity, stamina, and exuberant energy.
On day one, we did a lot of trekking up and down the mountainside spotting several mule deer, a doe, and a small buck. On day two, we again spotted a few does and a black wolf, but I couldn’t connect. On day three and four, we’re still hunting hard, but no luck. I’m getting a bit nervous, but then on day five my guide took me to the middle of the mountain and we started glassing and making our way down the side.
We found a lot of tracks including wolf. We went back to the mountainside and were just getting ready to settle in for a little glassing, when my guide called and told me to “shoot.” He said there was a good buck about 250 yards away. I couldn’t see it. After a few choice words from my guide, I finally spotted “Bucky” and shot. When we got where he went down, I was shocked. What a beauty. He was a 4x6, heavy beams, high antlers, and a beautiful dark color.
My guide caped him out right there. We took the head, meat, antlers, and hide out to where Millie, my wife, met us. Great day, great hunt. Thanks.
Wisconsin, USA Back to topGood Luck Charm works a Charm
I scheduled a mule deer and black bear hunt in September. My wife, Amy, and my youngest daughter, Cameron, 6 years old, came along with me. The day after we arrived, I left to hunt the mule deer. This was my first time in alpine country. I knew alpine was above treeline, but I didn’t think about actually going there.
I don’t like heights, so this was a little difficult for me! After taking my mule deer, I headed back to the lodge where my wife and daughter were. I had had enough of the “high” country. I was ready to hunt black bear.
I’ve always wanted my wife and daughter to go on a hunt with me and this was the time. The morning of my fifth day, we saw a big grizzly and two moose. We went back to the lodge around lunchtime and picked up Amy and Cam. We drove to several cut blocks to spot for bear. We weren’t having much luck. After getting back into the truck, Cam asked to sit up front.
We started seeing bear everywhere. Our guide told Cam that she must be a good luck charm. This tickled her. We saw bears eating blueberries, but they appeared to be in a family group, so I could not take any of them. Bears were all around us. We hunted all afternoon and on the way back out of the area we spotted a nice one.
We made the stalk. He was getting close to the treeline and I had to shoot fast. I hit him with the first shot. It was a great hunt. Amy and Cam were excited also. I shot about 120 yards through some cut timber, which made it hard for Amy and Cam to get to the bear, but they made it with cameras in hand. The bear was 6′10″. Cam didn’t know what to think at first, but said she couldn’t wait tell her “big” sister, Stephanie, the good news. She was taking it all in. We headed back to the lodge to tell of our story.
Cam would like to thank Robin, her guide, for all her patience, and teaching her how to ride her horse, JP, by herself. This was a great accomplishment for her. The first day we arrived, she wouldn’t even sit on the horse by herself, but, by the end of the trip, she was riding by herself and going on small trail rides.
This was a special hunt for us as a family and I would like to thank you all for making it that way.
Alabama, USA Back to topHunting as I Know It
I would like to say a few words about hunting, as I know it. I’ve been privileged to be on the hunt since my earliest days and lost in books by Jack O’Connor and stories in ‘Outdoor Life’. Like many, if I’m not hunting or in the wilds, I’m dreaming about it. I fight the fight to stay in shape and be able to make a showing in the shale rock of the high country.
This is about a great hunting experience I was able to be a part of in British Columbia. I have found success in my home state of Montana with a self-guided bighorn sheep in the Beartooth Range as well as a bull moose in that same area. The mountain goat drawing has always eluded me, although I have helped others with pack board and spotting scope. Last October, I was fortunate to hunt with this outfitter in British Columbia.
I enjoyed my drive from central Montana to the ranch and kept track of local history on the way. With all the enthusiasm of an earlier day, and leaving behind the aches and pains of my 55 year-old frame, I hunted with the guides in search for old Mr. Billy. The guides were dedicated, knowledgeable, and courteous as I enjoyed quality time with good people and backpacking the mountains in God’s country.
Starting at daylight and watching the sun go down each day, we assaulted the mountains with determination and glassed goats in country I admired and respected. Finding goats and catching them close and personal, we thoughtfully turned down chances on younger, less mature animals. Never losing sight of our goal, the old battle worn and nearly toothless Billy, eluded us.
I felt great pride in giving it our all and understand that sometimes the answer is no. I will hopefully return to match wits with the lone billy of my dreams and bring him back to Montana to a place in our home of honour and respect.
Montana, USA Back to topLightning Does Strike Twice
I was looking for a BIG ADVENTURE. For my 40th birthday my wife suggested I take a big game hunting trip. A trip of a lifetime. I agreed! I spent about one year researching my trip. I wanted a challenging hunt; not some luxury ranch with animals staked out in a pen where you sleep-in, ride a four-wheeler thirty minutes, and shoot an animal. I settled on mule deer. It’s a challenging hunt and can be hunted in remote, challenging terrain.
I found an outfitter offering early fall mule deer rifle hunts via horse pack trips for up to seven days “above the treeline” in southwestern British Columbia. With 2,000 square miles of territory, it offered exactly what I was looking for.
My friend Jim and I set out the first day with our guide and his assistant. An eight-hour horse ride for someone moderately experienced with horses is challenge enough to begin with. Asking your guide “how much further” sounds like a whiny four year-old leaving on holiday or going to grandma’s house. However, it is perfectly respectable to ask “what time do you expect we’ll arrive at camp?”
The horses were superb. The staff matched the skill-level of each rider with a matched horse. Even novice riders come down by the end of the week as experienced mountain men.
Jim and I were pleased that at the end of our first ride, we found a cabin with solar lighting, running water, and a beautiful lake full of rainbow trout. Jim and I were fortunate to have fishing licenses included with our package, so early mornings and late evenings were spent rowing and fishing this beautiful glacier-fed lake.
Our guide and his assistant did an excellent job getting horses ready, managing supplies and equipment, cooking meals, and keeping us moving. The food was excellent and we certainly had some of the nicest accommodations.
We would set out early morning and scout the trees and meadows along the way and at the top we moved from ridge to ridge scouting the bowls and basins between and below the ridges. We saw plenty of does and smaller bucks the first few days. I also saw mountain goats, bighorn sheep, and black bears. Jim saw five grizzlies, marmots, grouse, and a wide variety of birds I’ve never seen before. We hunted in rain, sleet, snow, heavy fog, and sunshine.
On day three, we spotted a nice buck feeding in a high meadow about a half-mile across another ridge and wide basin. Then just below that buck, an enormous rack appeared, easily seen with the naked eye and an enormous buck stepped out. We had already hiked into this area quite a distance, so when he pointed out we would climb up a rocky shoal and across a long ridge to get close enough to shoot, I gave a mental moan.
As we drew closer, we completed a 40-yard belly crawl, leaving an approximate 250-yard shot. We made a gun rest from my fanny pack, binoculars, and my guide’s coat. By the time I scoped the buck, it had bedded-down. According to ballistics of my Nossler 150 grain SP’s and a .270 caliber Remington Model 700, I would have about a 12-inch drop. I scoped and fired. With one shot left, my guide said “save it” and we congratulated ourselves.
We spent the next few minutes talking about the hunt and laughing. Then my guide says, “there’s another buck!” I look and it’s my deer standing and walking slowly off. “Shoot again!” he says. I fired my last shot quickly still thinking about ballistics and distance. The second shot did the job.
Lesson one: carry extra bullets at all times, especially when distance shooting. I had two cartons of bullets in my saddlebags back on the horses, probably a mile back. Lesson two: buy the best optics for a scope when distance shooting. Lesson three: don’t buy that scope the week before your trip if you don’t have time to learn how your gun shoots with that scope farther than 100 yards. Ballistics don’t mean spit if you don’t know how your gun shoots and scope shoot at anywhere from 100 to 600 yards. If I had paused to think, I shot exactly where I aimed the first time, and should have immediately adjusted to the kill zone.
We stayed in the same area, not really expecting to see that deer again, but we knew there was at least one other nice buck in the area. We both confessed dreams of seeing that deer again.
On day five, we returned to the same rocky, bald ridge. I shot at that deer on day three. This day we agreed to watch the same meadow from noon until 1:00 p.m. At 12:30 p.m, I saw movement in my peripheral vision over my left shoulder. My guide was sitting to my left. A deer with what looked like a nice rack and small body was walking at a steady clip, head down, quartering right toward us. I whispered to my guide “over your left shoulder!” As he turned I chambered a round and asked, “should I shoot?” As he ducked down and covered his head he whisper-yelled “SHOOT!”
I put a shot in the kill zone at 30 yards. That buck still turned around and started back the way he came and I fired again. That deer fell in the exact spot I shot from on my belly on day three. What I thought was a small-bodied deer at first glance turned out to be the same deer I shot at on day three. He was huge, 4x4 with a 27-inch spread, 19-inch tall rack with deep forks made his body actually appear smaller than he was. My guide estimated his body at 250 to 300 pounds.
Lesson four: it’s probably safer to make a deal with the devil which you have no guilt trying to break than to pray to God for a second chance. I had offered to eliminate one terrible vice, seriously reduce another, and begin working out regularly if God would give me a second chance at that deer. Sometimes lightning does strike twice.
I suppose I’m on a new health plan as I return home. Not a bad deal really.
Tennessee, USA Back to top
