I'm back. I kind have been regretting posting seeing everyone's success with the trad bows. Unfortunately I had to put mine down with the rifle. I did stick it first though. Here's the story.
We had 14 days to have a camp dropped up Silvertip Creek. The idea was I was going to go in a day early to scout the area for camp and make sure no one else took it. When I left there was 2" of snow on my hood and entering the mountains was cold. Plus the mountain I was going to hunt was VERY white and looked trecherous. I made it about 14 miles? in to where the camp was supposed to be. I heard they had cleared trail to this flat and there was water. Well, the water wasn't there. Hiking the extra 2 miles steeply uphill had me wore out and I settled in for the night. I heard it was record lows and 22 where my buddies came from. Felt like the teens to me and my frozen boots were a chore to put on the next morning.
So I searched around for the better part of the morning looking for the spring (that I later found out was another 4 miles further on the other side of this pass) and went down to the creek. I first met Sam at around 3:30pm. He said the packers were not far behind. I explained the situation and we decided the clear clean creek was the place to be so we settled in. The packers were soon there and Mike and Brian came down from where I was, making a big ridge run. They also said they found no water, but had a big billy on video. Morale was high.
Mike was my wing man and we established a camp at a pass of sorts a 7500ft. Goats were everywhere. Lots of nannies with kids and billies here and there. Luckily the weren't very high, they were just occupying steep terrain.
After lots of days getting close (75 yards and under) to many goats I was staring to get the feel for them. I actually missed a goat twice on day 2 at a range too far. Luckily I was so nerved I missed the side of the barn. 35 minutes later after a long staring contest that was filmed I got another shot at one of the two and it went right over his back. I was embarrassed, ashamed, let down and not feeling good. I felt awesome all year practicing and I fell apart. So day 6 rolls around. I had been on the wall literally for hours each day. The goats would bed, then come out and feed one direction or the other and I was trying to get myself at a good ambush spot. Some of these spots required climbing 20 or so feet up to ledges. In the morning I spotted a billy very close to camp. I put the sneak on and within hours I was climbing another 20 feet or more to a ledge the billy occupied. When I stepped around the corner he was under 20 yards a way, but I thought he was already standing and was partially obscured. The ledges and wall there are cryptic. Well, he jumped up quickly, turned his back to me, and I waved goodbye. I was the best stalk I have ever had and still no Billy. I went back to the high camp and found Mike. He expected I would be there since in was raining all morning at the clouds were in camp. I was going to give it a rest for the evening, but with goats in view I was soon in the cliffs again.
Getting to the slope requires climbing. Some is just steep talus and scree. Others is hands on with the bow and quiver draped over the neck. You would need to enter the slope at specific spots so you could run a drainage to the base of the wall without being detected. From there you could wait for the goats to dip in out out of the terrain for you to move. Unfortunately they are SO Slow. No to mention their eyes are sharp. I got to within 125 yards of the same Billy from the morning. I was staying out of site. Suddenly I noticed him alert, but not at me. I looked where he was and he was keen on Mike walking below probably 500 yards away. The goat started coming toward me at a good rate of speed for them. I didn't expect it to go down where I was so I picked the biggest rock I could which felt like half of a canoe hull. I got as low as I could face in the gravel trying to stay low. It was silent for a moment then he moved again and it was clear he was going to be right in front of me. He stopped on a ledge 20ft up probably 15 yards away. He was somewhat broadside with his right leg kind of guarding the sweet spot. It looked doable and this was my chance. I drew back, picked a spot, and loosed. I saw the arrow go about halfway in. He then ran to my right with the arrow looking like it was in a perfect spot. Mike yells "Did you stick him". "Yeah", "He's bleeding in the right spot". I immediately start bombing downhill. I want to see this goat. Mike and I both loose each other in the rocks with the sitka on. We yell briefly. Sounded like he was spotting the goat. I ran a mile uphill to the pass to get on the shoulder of the mountain to cut him off if he went that far. We watched till nightfall and he stood like a statue. Mike showed me pictures of blood. It all looked good. I told him I thought I should get a rifle. I wasn't looking to wound a goat back there. He assured me of a good hit. I dreamed of a goat laying in the rocks the next morning.
I was up before the sun as usual. As soon as it was light enough to see he was there. On the cliff, 100ft up looking miserable and not moving much. It looked like he was having trouble bedding. What a long day. Maybe the longest of my life. I felt terrible. I was watching my "Once in a Lifetime" become a disaster. I felt shame. This wasn't what I intended. I watched him disappear into a nook. At dusk he came back out and stood like a statue not giving up. Mike headed for the rifle at the camp at the creek.
I know this is a trad site so I'll spare the details. I got him the next morning. THANK GOD. I'll maybe never have the chance again, but I learned a lot. The emotional and physical strain still weigh on me. I wish it could have been clean. I tried my best. Thanks for all the words of encouragement. Here are some pics.
Topic: I drew a tag!!! MT Mtn Goat (Read 1397 times)
