elkfishing
Active member
Snow and 5.75 miles to get to Flood had me hoping that Brandon could once again join me with his stellar horses. But he too has one of those, or actually two jobs. But more importantly, he is a great dad and he gets a lot of time with his kids hunting every year. I could not respect that more. He was not looking promising as a partner for the weekend. Remarkably, as I was finishing a workout on Thursday evening I got a text from him letting me know that he was now available. It seems that COVID had run through his family and the rest were not feeling up to hunting for the weekend.
I knew this as his son and mine are big-time friends and they work together. Both got it from the same mutual friend. For my son Levi, his biggest problem was boredom and he didn't even miss a workout. I was concerned that I would get it and it would hinder or maybe keep me from hunting. I have to wait and see about that, but as precaution, I started to stay in our camper in our driveway to minimize my potential exposure and Levi could only leave his bedroom to go to the bathroom and head outside to shoot hoops and workout.
All of that aside, we made arrangements to head to Woodbine once more and ride in on Saturday. My nearly 30-year friend Jim Forseth was also able join us for one day too. He is like a third brother to me and us getting to enjoy this together was going to be special. He was meeting us at 6:00 for us to ride in. Everything came together as planned as Jim showed up about 15 minutes early. Away we went on a gorgeous day for a ride and a hunt. Another bonus was that much of the snow that Issac and I saw had melted. Things were certainly looking up!
We road in stopping in the usual spots still not finding any goats until we neared Flood Creek. The small billy that I had been seeing was still on Cathedral. He STILL hadn't grown one bit! With the improved conditions and two great partners, I was again willing to pass on him. It was not a hard decision.
We road up to the various glassing knobs not too far south of Flood and we had a great view of the little billy sleeping on one of Cathedral's ledges and Brandon found a group of four goats not all that far from us at about 650 yards. There was a fine billy, notably better than my little guy, with three others. It was quickly decided that Brandon and I would try to put the sneak on this billy while Jim stayed behind to keep track of them. We set up communications with him and headed after them.
Brandon and I didn't go too far down the trail when we got to a good location to begin to head up. We could see the goats, and more importantly, they could see us. We were now down to around 350 yards, but two things had me not willing to take that shot. One, the winds were typical of the Beartooths - swirling and strong, and two, we were sure that we could get much closer to them for a far shorter opportunity. For me this is a big part of hunting.
To address them being able to see us, I had Brandon stay there while I began the trek up. He would observe how they responded and then follow. I was only going to go a couple hundred yards up when I would wait for him to join me and report how they behaved. We did this and he indicated that they did not seem to care and thus we kept going without altering our planned route up.
I led us up establishing a pace that was productive but not too quick to wear out my legs nor get me too sweaty. The climb wasn't supposed to be too high either so the likelihood of either of those happening seemed slim anyways. We proceeded steadily upward until we were near where we thought we needed to be but we couldn't see the goats. We got Jim's attention and he verified that they had moved more to the south and up further. Brandon and I were very curious if it was mere coincidence or if we had drove them to this move? No way of knowing, but we did know that our little climb just grew much larger.
Up and up we went. I am not really sure just how much vertical we did, but it was not trivial. It wasn't too hard either as I was certainly in prime shape to be doing this. It did feel good to be climbing after a goat for the first time in over a month. We also were well aware of how short the days had become and knew that we could not waist any time. In the end we went a significant ways up the mountain which had become notably steeper than it had appeared before we left Jim. We got to some elevation and decided that it was time to move south hoping to see the goats once more. Nothing! More south and still nothing. Jim too was able to indicate to us that he hadn't seen them again either.
Time was not our friend and we decided to head back down so that we would still have light to glass for them from below and perhaps reestablish their location to give us a starting point for Sunday. A rather quick decent and after a fairly short bit of glassing not only were the original four located, but another group of four near the top of mountain were as well. So with that as encouragement, we road out for another night in Brandon's camper. Jim was going to be heading home as Sundays are about the only days he gets to spend with his wife lately. While I would have really enjoyed one more day with him along, I certainly understand the importance of keeping your priorities. He and Kerry and their relationship easily supersede my hunt.
After goodbyes to Jim, feeding the horses, and some dinner of our own, off to bed we went. Very high hopes were with us as we drifted to sleep rather fast.
Up again, and with far fewer stops, we made Flood Creek. We reestablished the location of the small billy and in short-order made our way further down the trail to tripod knob. We attempted to relocate either of the groups of four we had seen the night before but to avail. I could see the smaller billy still and thoughts of heading after it started to swirl in my head. I resisted these urges and after hours the goats were found. Well two goats were found and they were way up the mountain once again and in deep snow.
What to do? Talk about internal debating! There was a billy, but he was not in a very good spot. Moreover, I was now down to just one more week. I already knew that short of another unexpected turn of events, Brandon would not be able to join me as his brothers and he, plus whatever kids that could make it, were packing in on horses for a final elk hunt. This was the last trip with horses most likely.
I pulled a weather report off my Zoleo. It appeared that the good weather was going to hold, but I really didn't trust this prediction. I have seen forecasts like this go way differently far too many times in the past. We knew that we only had time for one stalk. Either we would go up again on this side of Flood, or I could actually go after that small billy I kept seeing. It took me a lot of time to decide. The little billy was my choice.
Back to where we would have our best chance of seeing him again. And guess what? We could not find him now. What the heck? Time was slipping and at long last we found the goat but now he was in the cliffs. There was a route that would allow us to come in above him, but neither of us felt that we had the time to get that done. There was another route which would give us a potential close approach, but it didn't seem likely that he would wait around as he watched us get closer and closer. If we did that then I was sure that he would not stay for that and would possibly flee the area all together. Agonizingly I decided to just ride out knowing that I would be down to only two days left to hunt.
I was feeling really guilty too over the decision I had made to not go up after the two goats. I was now doubting this choice even though I would tell others to not beat yourself up like I now was. My inner judge was having a hay-day every step of the ride out. The good news was that it was still not dark when we loaded the horses but my heart was very heavy.
I knew this as his son and mine are big-time friends and they work together. Both got it from the same mutual friend. For my son Levi, his biggest problem was boredom and he didn't even miss a workout. I was concerned that I would get it and it would hinder or maybe keep me from hunting. I have to wait and see about that, but as precaution, I started to stay in our camper in our driveway to minimize my potential exposure and Levi could only leave his bedroom to go to the bathroom and head outside to shoot hoops and workout.
All of that aside, we made arrangements to head to Woodbine once more and ride in on Saturday. My nearly 30-year friend Jim Forseth was also able join us for one day too. He is like a third brother to me and us getting to enjoy this together was going to be special. He was meeting us at 6:00 for us to ride in. Everything came together as planned as Jim showed up about 15 minutes early. Away we went on a gorgeous day for a ride and a hunt. Another bonus was that much of the snow that Issac and I saw had melted. Things were certainly looking up!
We road in stopping in the usual spots still not finding any goats until we neared Flood Creek. The small billy that I had been seeing was still on Cathedral. He STILL hadn't grown one bit! With the improved conditions and two great partners, I was again willing to pass on him. It was not a hard decision.
We road up to the various glassing knobs not too far south of Flood and we had a great view of the little billy sleeping on one of Cathedral's ledges and Brandon found a group of four goats not all that far from us at about 650 yards. There was a fine billy, notably better than my little guy, with three others. It was quickly decided that Brandon and I would try to put the sneak on this billy while Jim stayed behind to keep track of them. We set up communications with him and headed after them.
Brandon and I didn't go too far down the trail when we got to a good location to begin to head up. We could see the goats, and more importantly, they could see us. We were now down to around 350 yards, but two things had me not willing to take that shot. One, the winds were typical of the Beartooths - swirling and strong, and two, we were sure that we could get much closer to them for a far shorter opportunity. For me this is a big part of hunting.
To address them being able to see us, I had Brandon stay there while I began the trek up. He would observe how they responded and then follow. I was only going to go a couple hundred yards up when I would wait for him to join me and report how they behaved. We did this and he indicated that they did not seem to care and thus we kept going without altering our planned route up.
I led us up establishing a pace that was productive but not too quick to wear out my legs nor get me too sweaty. The climb wasn't supposed to be too high either so the likelihood of either of those happening seemed slim anyways. We proceeded steadily upward until we were near where we thought we needed to be but we couldn't see the goats. We got Jim's attention and he verified that they had moved more to the south and up further. Brandon and I were very curious if it was mere coincidence or if we had drove them to this move? No way of knowing, but we did know that our little climb just grew much larger.
Up and up we went. I am not really sure just how much vertical we did, but it was not trivial. It wasn't too hard either as I was certainly in prime shape to be doing this. It did feel good to be climbing after a goat for the first time in over a month. We also were well aware of how short the days had become and knew that we could not waist any time. In the end we went a significant ways up the mountain which had become notably steeper than it had appeared before we left Jim. We got to some elevation and decided that it was time to move south hoping to see the goats once more. Nothing! More south and still nothing. Jim too was able to indicate to us that he hadn't seen them again either.
Time was not our friend and we decided to head back down so that we would still have light to glass for them from below and perhaps reestablish their location to give us a starting point for Sunday. A rather quick decent and after a fairly short bit of glassing not only were the original four located, but another group of four near the top of mountain were as well. So with that as encouragement, we road out for another night in Brandon's camper. Jim was going to be heading home as Sundays are about the only days he gets to spend with his wife lately. While I would have really enjoyed one more day with him along, I certainly understand the importance of keeping your priorities. He and Kerry and their relationship easily supersede my hunt.
After goodbyes to Jim, feeding the horses, and some dinner of our own, off to bed we went. Very high hopes were with us as we drifted to sleep rather fast.
Up again, and with far fewer stops, we made Flood Creek. We reestablished the location of the small billy and in short-order made our way further down the trail to tripod knob. We attempted to relocate either of the groups of four we had seen the night before but to avail. I could see the smaller billy still and thoughts of heading after it started to swirl in my head. I resisted these urges and after hours the goats were found. Well two goats were found and they were way up the mountain once again and in deep snow.
What to do? Talk about internal debating! There was a billy, but he was not in a very good spot. Moreover, I was now down to just one more week. I already knew that short of another unexpected turn of events, Brandon would not be able to join me as his brothers and he, plus whatever kids that could make it, were packing in on horses for a final elk hunt. This was the last trip with horses most likely.
I pulled a weather report off my Zoleo. It appeared that the good weather was going to hold, but I really didn't trust this prediction. I have seen forecasts like this go way differently far too many times in the past. We knew that we only had time for one stalk. Either we would go up again on this side of Flood, or I could actually go after that small billy I kept seeing. It took me a lot of time to decide. The little billy was my choice.
Back to where we would have our best chance of seeing him again. And guess what? We could not find him now. What the heck? Time was slipping and at long last we found the goat but now he was in the cliffs. There was a route that would allow us to come in above him, but neither of us felt that we had the time to get that done. There was another route which would give us a potential close approach, but it didn't seem likely that he would wait around as he watched us get closer and closer. If we did that then I was sure that he would not stay for that and would possibly flee the area all together. Agonizingly I decided to just ride out knowing that I would be down to only two days left to hunt.
I was feeling really guilty too over the decision I had made to not go up after the two goats. I was now doubting this choice even though I would tell others to not beat yourself up like I now was. My inner judge was having a hay-day every step of the ride out. The good news was that it was still not dark when we loaded the horses but my heart was very heavy.
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