A Dream Becomes Reality

Awesome report and pics Randy. A great dream hunt. Congrats on two great bulls! I love hunting in the North country.
 
Even better story now after the caribou! Really going to be hard to top this adventure. Thinking Mrs. Fin deserves a little something special!
 
Congratulations Randy. I am so happy for you. What a wonderful adventure and one that allowed you to shrink the items that were left to do on your bucket list .

Another part of your story that I enjoyed was that men and women were on the trip ( thinking about hunting wives thread ) and also hunters from three Countries all working together. Canada, New Zealand and the U.S. Just "hunters/wranglers/adventurers all coming together to make a dream hunt----a dream hunt !

For me personally---a float plane, horses, hunting----perfect!

Thank you for the story
 
Very cool! Hell of an adventure for sure. Great photos as always.
 
I woke to a pelting rain the next morning. The horses were outside the tent begging for grain, though I suspect the tired crew felt no urgency and was imbibing in a few extra minutes of well-deserved sleep. Today would be another day of meat care. Jim’s cape needed fleshed and salted. The rest of my meat needed retrieved. By the time all that was accomplished, the day would be mostly spent. Fine by me.

Following breakfast and coffee, Blythe and Marty announced they would head for my remaining moose meat with two extra pack horses. I asked if I could join. Based on the pause and looks cast between them, I gathered I had created a dilemma; how to politely tell a hunter he would be more harm than help? James, sensing the predicament, intervened that he and I had a lot of meat to trim, clean, and get ready for flight. Problem solved; the wranglers would not be burdened with an equine greenhorn and James would have help with the meat duties.

Marcus continued taking more footage and images. I can see how it came to be that we returned with over 8,000 still images from this hunt and 1.4 Terabytes of footage.

Jim assisted Braden with cape duties and joined in the meat care. All of us drank copious amounts of coffee and shared big laughs. No phones, no social media, just hunters talking of this and past hunts amidst the pleasures of wild solitude.

The wranglers were back shortly after the noon hour. I dug the tenderloins from meat bags and asked if folks had tired of tenderloin last night. If not, we could build a huge fire and I would cook these on a hot rock, following a few hours of marinade in Mrs. Fin’s secret recipe, of which I had one bag remaining after the caribou tenderloins. All agreed that was a worthy meal plan.

Marcus had bought a fishing license prior to flying out here, as he was sure we would be tagged out early. He is one of the most optimistic people you can have in a camp. Reports of grayling and lake trout were too much to resist. He and Jim headed the half-mile down to the lake, where their laughter and occasional shouts could be heard over the sound of rain droning on the cabin roof. Seemed like Marcus was getting his money’s worth out of the fishing license.

James asked Marty to gather wood for a fire. I concluded that when Marty is tasked with a project, expect big results. When I next looked out the cabin, a small logging operation had been completed with nothing more than a Fiskars machete. Marty smiled broadly as all stood on the porch commenting on the commendable mound of firewood he had procured.

Marty’s enthusiasm for gathering firewood was only exceeded by his pyrotechnic tendencies. Maybe it is a Kiwi trait; this hair-singeing fire, most would call an inferno, precluded getting any closer than ten feet. Marty was all smiles, admiring his considerable handiwork. James found a huge flat rock that we immersed in the flames, appointing it as my cooking surface once the fire was reduced to coals.

A couple hours later, the rock was at a perfect temp. The tenderloins were taken from the marinade bag. Marcus had drawn a Lake Trout from the waters that I beheaded and wrapped in foil, burying it for a long roast in the embers. Not sure what beats a fire-cooked meal for freshly taken local protein, but if you have idea that can exceed such please let me know what that is.

The evening was spent sharing stories, recounting what had been a great week in amazing country with new friends. The rain continued, taking no edge off our joy and laughter. The trout and tenderloins were savored. Jim brought out the last of his whiskey, allowing for a toast to the wild places and wild places that feed the soul of a hunter.

Tomorrow Jim would leave for caribou camp with James and Braden. The wranglers would help Marcus and I get all the gear and meat to the lake, where, weather permitting, the Beaver would come to extract us from this desolate piece of paradise known as the Cassiars. Once Marcus and I were loaded, the wranglers would overnight here, then head to caribou camp to join Jim and the guides.

I’ve had almost a week to reflect on this experience. It is meaningful to me in ways I cannot quite find the words to describe. It almost feels like some level of redemption for my failure to find time and budget twenty years ago that would have allowed me to share a Dall sheep camp with my grandfather. I feel fulfilled that a dream I had most my adult life became a reality. That in itself is gratifying.

Not that people need my advice. If there is one takeaway from my experience, it is this. Make your dreams a reality; whether hunting-related or some other interest you have. It might take some planning, some time, some money. No matter the dream, you will find fulfillment from the planning and discipline required to accomplish what you set out to do. And, you will feel gratified that this dream is no longer at risk to the fickle finger of fate; what we call life.

They say that “Someday” never comes; that tomorrow is just one of yesterday’s dreams. Well, I am testament to the fact that “Someday” can come. Go and get “Someday” marked on your calendar. I might be a bit financially poorer for the costs and efforts this trip chiseled from my savings account. But, I am immensely richer for the experience I had, the friends I made, and the memories that will grow fonder with each passing year.

Thanks to Marcus for all his great work. Thanks to James and Blythe for their endless energy and determination. Thanks to Jim, Braden, and Marty for the color and help they added to the experience. Thanks to Dustin for running such a great outfit. And thanks to my wife for the encouragement, some might call a lecture, to make this dream a reality. I am blessed in more ways than words can describe. I am grateful for every day I get to do this.

Thanks to all of you for following along. Now, get started on the plan of what has always been your dream experience. You will be happy you did.

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Amazing story Randy. Truly a hunt and adventure of a lifetime. Thanks for bringing us all along with you. Marcus has some serious skills behind that camera. All the photos are some of the best I've ever seen. Congratulations.
 
Randy, that's a giant of a BC. Moose! Congrats, congrats. That'll be some of the finest table fare ever! Did he measure over 55"+? I cannot wait to watch it on film!
 
I would love to read the story that started this adventure, but there is no way it is any better written or more engaging than this one. Truly a great story. If this accounting thing doesn't work out you could always be a writer. Ha
 
Great story with lots of side plots peppered in for flavor. Like I'm interested to see Jim's demeanor during the rifle drama and hear them tell the story of the horse decoy.

I always thought these guided hunts were super luxe and safe. This thread along with the Dall sheep hunt from last year has changed my perspective some. It may be expensive but it doesn't sound easy.
 
I'm happy for you, its well deserved. A dahl sheep last year and caribou this year!
 
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