Mountain Goat
2000

All year I was looking forward to hunting moose and mountain goat in British Columbia, Canada. I was on a similar hunt last year and the first day of my goat hunt it snowed so hard that everything was white from the top of the mountains down. I stayed in a tent three days and it continued to snow, so we decided to hunt moose because it was the peak of the rut and there was no way of getting to the goats without breaking our necks.

I had passed up several moose trying to get a good-scoring bull, but it just didn't happen. Every time we saw a good bull it seemed like he only had two points on his fronts and after September 1st, two points were illegal to take. I decided that the following year I would hunt before the two-point system started, and then hunt goats early enough before the snow came.

I had gotten several recommendations, from good sources on goat hunting, to go with an outfitter in British Columbia. After making the arrangements I was ready for my moose and goat hunt in 2000.

The first thing that went wrong on this hunt was when I took my bows out of the case and noticed that someone had written on the outside of the case, "here in Canada, we like our animals alive". After releasing the first practice arrow I could tell that the nightmare of my bows being damaged in the case was a reality. My first day was spent readjusting my equipment. I believe a baggage handler must have jumped up and down on my case. Undoubtedly, some misinformed person who doesn't really know what hunting is all about.

We were hunting the moose first because the goat season did not open for five days after my arrival. I was hoping that we would be able to run into one of those B&C two pointers. This time of the year the bulls do not travel very far; they're bedding down most of the day. Once you spot them you have the opportunity to sneak into their bedding area for a close shot.

After picking me up and flying me into a large lake I had high hopes of being able to glass and stalk moose. We started off by going up into the area that my guide and I had discussed the evening before. However, it didn't take me long to figure out that my guide didn't know any of the area or the trails, as he had openly commented to me several times regarding this fact.

After finally getting up into the area we were supposed to glass, the first thing we saw was a silver-tipped grizzly. What a beautiful animal! It was well over a mile away, but my guide immediately went for his horse and said we had to leave. At first I thought he was kidding, but then I realized he wasn't. We had to move. After moving to a new area--what's the first thing we see--another bear, so we had to move again. That day, we saw five different bears in the high country and I was unable to sit and glass for moose. I believe the reason the bears were there was because they were foraging for berries. I never met anyone so shook up about seeing a bear a mile away--much less a guide. The other thing I realized was that no one had scouted the area for moose before I got there, which was what I had been told, long before I signed up.

The next two days were spent down in the bottom areas looking for moose. I didn't realize at first why my guide didn't want to go back on top. It was because he was so afraid of the bears, so I ended up just going on a horseback ride, hoping that we'd run into a bull that was down low. Luckily, we came upon a bull that I figured would score between 180 and 190 B&C. It was about 200 yards off the main trail. It was raining and I had stripped down out of my rain suit because it made too much noise in the brush and waited for my guide to do the same. He told me to go ahead because he couldn't get his suit off quickly enough.

As I approached within a comfortable shooting range of the bull, I did not have an open chest shot. All I had to do was wait for the right moment and place the arrow. The next thing I heard was all kinds of commotion and noise down below me where I had left my guide and the horses. They had made so much racket that the bull took off trotting in the opposite direction. I didn't take the shot because I'm not comfortable shooting at running animals. After returning to the horses I found that my guide and another guide from the camp, who was traveling through the area, had decided to have a yelling and swearing argument. They were arguing about where we were supposed to tie the horses so they weren't so close to the main trail. This cost me the opportunity of harvesting a record-class bull.

Right from the time that I got to the camp, all I heard was how ineffective bow hunters are. I believe all the better guides were involved with the sheep hunters. I think I should have been told this before I went on the hunt so I could have made the decision whether to go or not.

After my misadventures with the moose, I looked forward to the opening day of the goat season because I could physically see the animals and knew where they were. So the opening day arrived and I got a whole new three-ring circus about "it's too tough to get to the animals." I asked my guide, "when is the plane coming back," because I wanted to be on it! I had had enough of this type of garbage. I felt I was stressing my guide because he was in over his head and I was being stressed more by being on this hunt than what I'd ever be at work. Work was sounding pretty good to me compared to the thought of sitting around in the rain with a man who had a bad back and an overpowering fear of grizzly bears.

On the day I spotted the big billy, I told my guide I was going up the mountain after the goat. He told me it would take all day and I said it was fine with me. My guide impressed me at this point, because he stuck with me through the whole climb that took approximately 3-1/2 hours. Once we were on top, the first thing we spotted were several piles of bear dung. At this point my guide turned into an entirely different person and started telling me we had to get off the mountain before dark. I couldn't believe we had climbed all the way up just to turn around and go back down!

I suggested to my guide that we make a sweep around the top, as long as we were here, to try and find the billy because he had moved. I felt my guide was in a hurry because he wanted to get off the mountain. I think he thought he was a "walking meal ticket". I jokingly said to him that I thought the berries were a lot sweeter than what he would be. He didn't think that was very funny.

When we approached the area where we last saw the billy, my guide started walking in front of me because he was in such a hurry. Before I could tell him to slow down, the goat ran right out just below him and jumped right off a cliff. I couldn't believe it. I was so pissed; it was hard for me to believe him when he told me the goat might still be standing on the next cliff below us. Luckily for me I got the opportunity of a lifetime even after he spooked the goat over the cliff. What should have been a ten-yard shot now turned into a 50-yard, downhill shot, which I was confident in making.

After the animal was down, we immediately got back into the "bear situation." The first thing my guide did was to cock a shell into the chamber of his rifle. I asked him what he thought he was doing because it was dangerous to have a shell in the chamber for no reason. He said he wanted to be prepared in case a bear came. I told him to unload the gun and put the shells back in the magazine. I then asked him to give me the gun and I kept it next to me. I told him if a bear comes, the first round was going over its head. Then we would decide what to do. What I was more afraid of (if the gun were in his possession) was that if a bear did come snooping around, my guide would have gotten so shook up he probably would have shot me. At this point, he didn't want to take the time for picture taking or to cape the goat for a life-size mount. On my insistence, he changed his mind. The goat turned out to be a 10" B&C billy. What an incredible animal!

I felt it was a good thing for me that I was in the kind of shape that I was in, otherwise my goat would still be on top of the mountain. I didn't mind carrying the meat, hide and horns by myself but what I did mind was that my guide was 60-100 yards in front of me on our way back down. It took me a little bit to realize what was going on. I believe if a bear was coming, my guide wanted to make sure I was the "bait." He had plenty of room to make a run for it.

Other than the bad experiences I had with my hunt, I felt very safe in the planes, and the accommodations were great. But there again I don't mind sleeping in a tent and eating bag lunches as long as the hunt is worthwhile.

Sometimes you just have to do the best you can with what you've got.