Lending a hand

Here’s a few quick stories where I was lucky enough to be a part of someone else’s hunt this year:

Cade’s goat hunt

When my friend Cade asked if I would tag along on his once in a lifetime goat hunt here in Wyoming, I jumped at the chance. We had planned on a one-day hunt and hiking in 4-5 miles to where some goats had been seen.

The problem was at the rate we were moving (glassing and slow hiking) at 10k’, it was taking longer than expected and we didn’t get to our spot till 4ish. Honestly, I wondered with how exhausted we were if he would even kill one this late in the day, if given the chance. Surprisingly, I was glassing a timber pocket when suddenly a big white billy goat stepped out. At that point, neither of us really questioned whether it was a good idea or not to shoot this late in the day

Cade made a great shot on the beautiful 8 yo Billy, but as evening fell, we knew the hike back to Cade’ truck was tremendous elevation gain and around 4-5 miles. We had dropped my truck off down the canyon, which I think was 11-12 miles from where the goat laid.

Cade packed the meat, and I packed the hide and we hiked and hiked and hiked.  We finally made it to my truck as the eastern sky was lighting up. He packed all night long. It was one of the more brutal hikes I’ve done for a while but hikes like this are what form bonds and brotherhood. Thanks Cade!

Brady’s big buck

After harvesting my deer in the archery season, I made plan to take Laynee on the rifle deer hunt. Vball, band, and other school functions squashed our plans so I decided to spend the weekend with my deer hunting buddy, Brady. 

We ascended 7 miles up into the peaks, with the help of the pack goats. Brady was after a couple bucks we coined “old man”and “big 4”. That evening (before the opener) we had refound both of these bucks together, but unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones. There were a couple of groups of hunters in the big canyon and these bucks were very photogenic that evening.

Brady had a solid morning plan but instead spent opening day trying to catch up to these bucks after some hunters had blown them from their summer ground before light.

Meanwhile, I was closer to camp glassing different country. I picked up a buck in full velvet 800 yards from camp that had a look that I thought deserved more attention. I was certain it’s a buck we never found during scouting season. I videoed the buck and after dark when Brady strolled in and goat chores were done, I shared the video with Brady while we were eating supper in the tipi.

He got a good look of the video and said “that’s a great buck” and handed me back the phone. Not much more was said about that deer. The next morning, Brady glassed from a couple angles trying g to pick up his original bucks, while I wanted another look of the velvet buck. 

I hoped he was still in the timber patch from the day before, but after an hour of picking it apart and no luck, I began looking at new country. An hour or so had passed and I returned to the timber patch and slowly dissected each limb and rock, looking for any sign of deer…then I saw it. The deer’s lower jaw chewing. As I focused on the jaw, the deer cryptic grey body revealed itself! It was him! I called Brady over and I told him, “you need to take a look at this deer”. 

Brady stared motionless in the scope for minutes, and said “yeah, I think I’m gonna kill this deer”. He got his rifle set-up and we waited for 4 hrs for the deer to get up from its bed. The shot was true and the buck was down 800 yards from camp!

 The reason neither of us were 100% with killing this deer was gauging his mass. Sometimes it’s difficult, even more with velvet. But we both were suspiciously optimistic, he was real heavy…but when we walked up on this deer, I think we were both speechless. This was a dinosaur of a buck.

Not only were his antlers next level mass, his head, ears, body, hooves, everything was gigantic. His teeth wear was proof this old warrior had survived the unthinkable winter conditions in the past decade. 

He is one of those bucks you can’t take your eyes off of him. Congrats Brady on killing one of the greatest deer of our lifetime!

Cason’s first bull

Cason Smith was the recipient of the Outdoor Dream Foundation, and I got to be a part of the Wyoming dream hunts team. Cason and his Family flew in from the south  and arrived in Wyoming just in time to go to the shooting range, and have a quick lunch. We got into the field that afternoon for a quick scout/hunt, and it quickly turned into a bugle fest and trying to chase down a big herd bull. With a split second decision, Kayson made a great shot just before the bull skylined out of the area. 

The whole family got to help out with the pack out in grizzly country! It was a team effort, and it was so fun to be a part of.

Cason and his dad

 

Girls Gone Wild Part II

I'm going to share a photo story. But before I start, I've got to say that each hunt possesses it's own special memories, whether those memories are based on the beauty and uniqueness of the individual animal that you harvest,  the camaraderie that you share camp with, or just the sheer beauty of the area you are hunting.

This following hunt fits all of those "special memory"categories and will go into my all-time record book for one of my favorite hunts. To hunt with my mom (for the first time) and my son, hunting for mountain goats (all of our first time), in probably my number one favorite place on earth. How's that? 

The group heading off on the hunt at first light from the trail head. Poor Hunter was a trooper on this hunt as he battled with a goopy case of pink-eye

We made good time hiking in around 4 miles. One of my best  friends Tyler was already camped on the ridge and had plenty of goats spotted for us which was a big help. The morning we hiked in, Tyler sent a text reading "lots of goats 70 yards from camp". Tyler's camp was 4 miles from the trailhead.

The area is pretty special to me. I've enjoyed hiking these canyons for years and it was amazing to finally be able to take both my son and mom into the heart of it.

Here is Hunter and Mom looking at our first herd of goats along the ridge. (Notice them way off on the furthest ridge.) We wanted Tyler to be part of the hunt so we elected to pass these goats and continue hiking down the ridge after the bigger herd of  goats that Tyler was watching.

Hunter taking a rest and looking across the canyon.

Our first look at the big herd of goats that we would go after.

My mom did an excellent job prior to the hunt  learning how to use a centerfire rifle, gaining her knowledge on mountain goat biology, building those leg muscles, and then applying her new found skills at the precise moment. That's the way she lives life, she grabs the goat by the horns.

We met up with Tyler and made a quick game plan. The plan being as the goats were to feed over this ridge we would stalk the herd from above them and patiently pick out the perfect goat perched above them.

The plan worked perfectly as we made ourselves comfortable in the rock shale above the herd. Most of the goats were 130-150 yards downhill while this individual was 20 yards facing away. The wind was a stiff 30 mph in our faces helping to make our stalk unnoticed by the goats. We were able to pick the goat that stood out as the brightest, biggest-bodied, and biggest-horned. My mom remained calm and sharp. Several times her finger would nearly squeeze the trigger when another goat would step in front or behind the intended goat leaving a couple more minutes of anxiety...from me, Tyler, and Hunter (remember my mom was cool). 

My mom hit the goat well and after another quick shot the goat rolled downhill 40 yards. Here, Hunter and my mom could see the goat piled-up below when standing on their tippie-toes.

The herd split up in two groups. Here you can see one of the groups scaling the cliff faces on their way out.

A pretty tender moment when mom approached the fallen goat.

What a beautiful animal. This would be all of our first (and maybe last time) ever being around mountain goats since they are a once-in-a-lifetime hunt (and that's only if you're lucky). We spent a considerable amount of time enjoying the goat up-close; its long white hair, the extremely thick under-fur, the independent soft hooves  known so well for their traction, and the overall size of the goat's body! 

Mom was so proud. The first thing she did after admiring the goat is she call Bryan, my dad.  Dad couldn't have been prouder. The plan was sufficient meat for the winter, tan the beautiful white coat for display at the cabin, and bleach the skull for display. Once mom realized how strikingly beautiful each feature was on the goat, she asked Dad if they could do a half-sized mount instead of a hide/skull mount. Of course, Dad wasn't going to say "No".

The whole enchilada!

Three ol' goats.

We skinned out the goat and Hunter was able to put the head and pelt in his pack. We quartered out the legs, salvaged the backstraps, loins,and any neck and rib meat we could and stuffed them in my pack. My mom hauled out all of our equipment, food, and rifle. Needless to say it was a pretty good haul back up and out.

We started our hike out around 3:30. We slowly (and I mean slowly) worked our way back to the pick-up. Here is mom leading the pack, Hunter in second, and me tuckered out and falling behind. We got back to the truck right about the time you would reach for your headlamp from your pack. I was impressed how well both my mom and Hunter hiked. It was around an 8 mile hike, not an easy hike in one day especially with our packs loaded on the way back. 

The mountaineers Grandma and Hunter

Thanks Tyler for helping out with finding the goats. Thanks Hunter for being there and  being so helpful. Taking you up there, sharing with you the stories about each canyon, I felt as if somehow I passed a baton of the hunting legacy to you. Mostly thank you to you, Mom. I'm so proud to be your son. After all the life lessons you've taught me through your consistent hard work and good example, I am proud to have been able to take you to the top of the mountain on this hunt and share with you my passion. It is a hunt I will always cherish.