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After last year's Austrian adventure with Ready, I was hanknerin' for another mountain hunt. I booked my 5th go-around with the BC outfitter I've used for years, this time for a goat. It seemed like a good idea at the time...

In the Flathead valley, they're known for their population of Interior Grizzlies, but this time I found they've had a new alpha predator move in:





I definitely had my guard up.


The summer's wildfires hadn't been kind to the game population, and the outfitter admitted the hunting had been awfully slow. Though his territory was only slightly affected by fires, the surrounding area had suffered significant damage, and the whole region had been smoky for a long time. We spent a couple days glassing throughout the valley, and didn't come up with any sightings. Like, of mammals. At all. Not even a squirrel.

Well, actually, there was a squirrel. On day 3, the outfitter made a spectacular shot on a squirrel trying to raid the pantry. Alas, there were no trophy pictures taken.

Also on day 3, we located our first goats in the main valley, so I knew we'd be OK if we just kept after it. The guide and I loaded up our organic ATV's





and headed to the back bowl of a side creek where some billies had been seen on earlier hunts. After settling in to the spike cabin, we did a bit of glassing, and came up with a nice looking billy:





Yup, right there





OK, if you look at that last pic, and imagine those rock cliffs as a pair o' boobs, zoom in as far as your computer will let you, and look where the nipple would be on the left. That off-white smudge at the base of the cliff is our guy. And yes, that's how the guide and I would describe to one another what we were looking at. We both seemed to be conversational in such terminology.

A word about my guide. Graysin is a strapping young lad of [underage in the US], and might give a goat a good run for its money in a race up the mountain. One of the many reasons I keep using this outfitter is that he can keep finding such sharp guys, with good skills, and most importantly, who still have cartilage. The kid has a really good head on his shoulders, and knows his way around the mountain, the game, and even the clients. He's already a good one, and he's only gonna get better.

Knowing where the billy would be overnighting, we headed to bed to ready an assault for the morning.

Back in our glassing spot at first light, we found the billy tracing the underwire of the brassiere on the right boob of that part of the mountain. We watched him feed for a while, and settle into what looked like a pretty decent spot here.





This one's a gimme. You'll notice there's only 1 yellow (larch?) tree in the whole damned picture, and he bedded down right next to it. Even I couldn't screw this one up.


The plan would be to shimmy up the hill to get to a glassing spot near his level. About the base of the cliff in the middle of this picture, right where the snowy talus slope meets the rock face.





This is one of those ideas that sounds really good in theory, and proves more... challenging... in practice. I can climb hills somewhat decently, but the ones covered in small loose rock stink, and adding greasy, melting snow on top of that really [performs fellatio]. I regaled Graysin with more than a li'l school bus language on my way up, not to mention the sweating, wheezing, gastrointestinal utterances, etc.

Still, we eventually got to our spot

(cont.)

I'm hooked. Waiting for the next installment.

And found we had more climbing to do. To this flatlander, everything looked totally accessible from the valley. Almost 2 hours into our climb, though, we found it was gonna be much tougher going. One spot after the next proved to have too few handholds for climbing, or only poor quality ones. After a bit of searching, Graysin whispered, "Come over here - if we head up this way, it'll be a [intercoursing] cakewalk!". Half an hour later, when we'd gained a whopping 30 feet of elevation, I explained to him that I don't think the term, "cakewalk" means the same thing on his side of the 49th parallel, that it does on the the south side. He replied, "well, you never woulda come" Touché.

We did our best to sidehill over towards the yellow tree without making rocks roll down the hill that would alert the goat to our presence. This exercise was roughly the equivalent of trying to hold in a fart during yoga class in a room full of women. Luckily, we rolled right over to him, spying him at 150 yards.

My naive expectation was that the goat would be on some sort of a bench up here, and that I'd have a decent shooting position. Did I mention naive? I laid along a dead tree and propped the rifle over the top, but it was still dastardly steep, and I would slide downhill with every breath I took. Worse, the rocks were sharp enough to poke through my pants, making it feel like I was getting circumcised all over again. Damn, this was fun.

The billy must have known my predicament, because the [goat whose parents were never married] laid there with his butt facing me, exposing only a sliver of neck to shoot at, and that was only when he deigned to cast a glance our way. Graysin grabbed my shirt to hold me from sliding, and we waited. Roughly 90 seconds later (an eternity for my groin), the billy stood up and presented a broadside shot. I settled the crosshairs on the point of his shoulder, and it was point-n-click.





I had jacked another round in the chamber, but he was already down. It was awfully kind of him to settle into some trees, instead of sliding off the cliff of the boob he was on.





And here's the whippersnapper







I'd never seen a goat up close before, and was amazed at the billy's coat. I guess they'd need 8" of fur to survive up there. I'd also never seen a goat's horns up close, and found it remarkable how perfectly smooth, and damned sharp they were. It turns out he had more fight in him, 'cause as we maneuvered him during the caping and quartering process, my sliding boots brought me into those horns a few times, and they easily went through the 2 layers I was wearing






It took awhile, but we got him all situated





Yes, that's green tape you see on the muzzle. I've found it to be even more accurate than blue or black tape, and it has to be more environmentally friendly: I mean, it's green, ain't it? A hat tip here to SKM, from whom I bought the rifle several years back. It's a dandy.

(cont.)

(cont.)

My philosophy is that any animal one brings down from the mountain, is a trophy. Being we were still up there, this wasn't yet a trophy. And being that it was closing in on 4:00 pm, and the sky was darkening, my butt puckered with what was to come.

I suck at sidehilling, generally, but doing so with a loaded pack is just folly. Every third step, my boot would slide out from under me, and I'd slam that hip into the mountain. I made sure to zigzag, so as to abuse each hip, equally. Eventually, we came to a point where even Graysin got concerned. To his considerable credit, he'd grabbed some rope from the cabin before heading up, and he lowered the heavy packs (and heavier client) through that nasty stretch.





I was ready to tap-out at this point, and drop part of my load to come back for in a second trip. Graysin insisted we press on, though, as the weather was turning fast. The winds had gotten to the point where I had to take a sumo stance just to keep from getting blown down. I thought it was just me being deliriously tired and over exaggerating the whole thing, but it turns out the winds were getting up to nearly 100 km/hr just over the ridge in Alberta.

Graysin encouraged me to butt-slide down the hill, but I demurred, thinking it undignified. It didn't matter, since I immediately fell on my azz, anyway, and enjoyed a glorious 30 foot long rock enema. Soon, the sky dumped sleet into those winds, which made for a brilliantly inexpensive skin exfoliator. We made the treeline, but had to push through the dense growth to try to cut over to the trail. Somewhere along the way, the branches decided they wanted my rear flip-up cap more than my scope did.

I was sure we were nearing the cabin, when we exited the trees still far up on the mountain on a steep barren spot with still more loose rocks. I was soaked from the inside-out-and-back-in, with the wind-driven sleet still blasting our faces, and my pants were being pushed off by my sagging pack. At this point, I just had to laugh at the absurd notion that I HAD ASKED FOR THIS. I believe I had Graysin take a picture of me at this point. If he sends it along, I'll be sure to put it up. [And yes, I had pulled my pants back up before hand.]

We made the cabin right at dark, and did our best to keep moving to hang the meat and cape, feed and water the horses, and work up some grub. We were both too tired to sleep, so we relaxed by listening to the radio, and trying to figure out whether the wind-driven wildfire in Crowsnest Pass might be headed toward us. Graysin thought we might have to bug-out of the camp then and there, but I told him I'd just go lie in the creek, and he could go on ahead without me - I was beat. The radio said the fires were headed away from us so we crashed.

We broke camp early the next day, and made it back to the main road where we'd left the horse trailer. The only problem was there was no truck. As we checked up the road, we discovered why: there were dozens of trees laying across the road from the winds. It ended up taking 2 days to saw through them to clear the road. We had to walk the horses up a steep sand slope, and luckily found the outfitter trying to cut his way down to us.

Yes, the goat tenderloins were delicious. I paired them with elk tag soup, since we only saw a couple of non-legal bulls in the 2 days that remained of elk season. I also got to munch on the whitetail, mule deer, and wolf tags, but it was still an excellent hunt.

We took a drive down to the border, where there's an inactive crossing on the old logging road.





They must have cameras on the US side, 'cause a truck came rolling over the hill once we reached the abandoned guard shack on the Canadian side. I expect that once they saw me in my hat with a rifle slung over my shoulder, they'd better go see if the Germans were invading.

I had wanted to challenge myself to a tough hunt, and it was all I could handle. I've never had to earn an animal as much as that one, and Mother Nature made quite sure to remind me who's in charge. During the trip, I ran into past guides I've had, and friends and family of the outfitter that had made my past trips all the more memorable. It's really become a second home to me up there, and I'm grateful for their kindness and competence.

I've already had friends and family ask if I'd ever hunt goats again, and my mind went to a quote by Merriwether Lewis regarding grizzly bears: “I find the curiosity of our men with respect to this animal is pretty much satisfied.”

Now, a bighorn sheep, on the other hand... I did ask the outfitter if those still cost a firstborn child, and immediately offered him a fantastic deal on the fifth born. He didn't answer me...

FC

Good job FC. Don't you wish we had about three more of these wilderness adventure yarns to post up this year. Maybe I'll have one more. I head to WY on Monday for mule deer.

Woody

FC and 54 Woody thank you both for taking us along great threads and pics. Magnum Bob

A fine animal and a great report. Congrats.

Mercy, you've got some energy! I'm still feelin' whooped.

Good luck in WY. And I'm serious about those beverages.

FC

Wow, what a hunt. Congrats to you for persevering, and thanks for the great report and pics.

Great Hunt!, Always dreamed of a Goat Hunt! but a bad leg, it wont happand, Glad to hear and read of your hunt tho! Congrads on a Great Trophy! The Pics were Great also!

Thanks for a great story and pictures.
I'm almost breathless from the lack of oxygen.

Man, this is fantastic! Thanks for sharing, and, congrats on a fine (and well earned) specimen.

fine right up since i will never mt goat /elk / or moose hunt you alls right ups are varry much enjoyed

Living vicariously shouldn't be this much fun. Thanks for a great story well told and photographed.


mike r

Outstanding post and trophy!! And I'll 2nd the other comments, between this post and the Yukon moose post from 54Woody we have some great hunters & writers!! Congrats to you and thanks for the adventure.

Great hunt, story and pictures. Thanks for taking us along! Congrats on it all.

Folically Challenged: What a great trophy for you and taken in such grand country!
Congratulations!
I have been on 14 (fourteen) Goat Hunts (3 in Alaska, 6 in Washington and 5 in Montana) and only on three of those did "I" have a tag!
I have chased and packed a lot of Goat but don't recall any more beautiful country than that you photographed and Hunted in.
Good for you, again.
Thanks for sharing.
Hold into the wind
VarmintGuy

Looks like a lot of hard work but a great time also. Congrats and thanks for sharing it with us.

good job my friend

Way to go. Sounds like a good time was had by all. Got to love that North Country. Glad you had success my Friend. Is there any shipments of Ice Cream headed to Canada now?