KC
New member
Just got back from my goat hunt. It was a special management hunt, a month later than usual and with no notice. So I had to grab my gear and go and make the best of it.
On a scale of 1 thru 10, where 10 is the most difficult, this hunt was a 9. I hunted for 8 days and on 6 of those days I hiked from 10,000' to about 12,000' elevation through fresh snow, which was knee deep at timberline. A storm had gone through early in the week and covered everything in fresh snow. So I was glassing for white mountain goats on fresh new snow. I wonder how many I looked right at and didn't see. It took several days for the snow to start to melt on the south slopes and another storm is predicted to hit the mountains around Leadville on Tuesday. So I figured if I didn't get a goat on Sunday or Monday, then I probably would not succeed.
Pete Sebald drove out Saturday evening, spent the night at my tent camp and he accompanied me on the Sunday hunt. He broke trail through the snow for much of the ascent and carried most of our water. We hiked up to about 12,800' and spent about an hour glassing the south slope of one of the third summit of Mount Massive.
We were leaving and I had given up when we sat down for one last session of glassing and I spotted a lone goat grasing on steep grassy slope about 3/4 mile away. It was the only one I had seen all week and probably my only chance. The only feasible approach was about a mile long route that took us around the back side of a saddle. It took us over an hour to make the stalk and the wind was wrong and I was afraid that she was going to catch my scent, but there was no other way to approach the animal. So I stalked to about 400 yards and took the shot. I aimed at the top of the back and the bullet clipped the sternum. She was mortally wounded but not dead yet. So I took some hurried shots and all of them missed. She laid down anyway and I walked to about 200 yards and shot her again. The goat jumped up then dropped dead and rolled onto a flat rock above the edge of a cliff at about 13,000' elevation.
It was a trecherous approach to get to the goat because she was surrounded by cliffs and steep slopes which were covered in melting snow. I dragged it away from the edge of the cliff to field dress her. Then we tried dragging and that wasn't feasible. So we cut the animal in half to carry it down. I had a full size internal frame backpack which was mostly empty. Pete was carrying a small daypack which was full. I put the back half inside my pack. Pete carried the front half on his shoulders. It was 3 1/2 miles horizontally and 3,000' vertically back to the truck. The exit from the cliffs was just as trecherous as the entry and the next 1/2 mile was over steep slippery slopes and snow covered rock fields. That was follwed by a mile of side-hilling over snow-covered slopes, through thick timber and deadfall. We reached a trail just before the sun went down and hiked 1 1/2 hours in the dark to get to the truck.
Here's a picture of myself, the goat and Pete. The goat is the one in the middle. She is not a big goat but she sure is pretty.
On a scale of 1 thru 10, where 10 is the most difficult, this hunt was a 9. I hunted for 8 days and on 6 of those days I hiked from 10,000' to about 12,000' elevation through fresh snow, which was knee deep at timberline. A storm had gone through early in the week and covered everything in fresh snow. So I was glassing for white mountain goats on fresh new snow. I wonder how many I looked right at and didn't see. It took several days for the snow to start to melt on the south slopes and another storm is predicted to hit the mountains around Leadville on Tuesday. So I figured if I didn't get a goat on Sunday or Monday, then I probably would not succeed.
Pete Sebald drove out Saturday evening, spent the night at my tent camp and he accompanied me on the Sunday hunt. He broke trail through the snow for much of the ascent and carried most of our water. We hiked up to about 12,800' and spent about an hour glassing the south slope of one of the third summit of Mount Massive.
We were leaving and I had given up when we sat down for one last session of glassing and I spotted a lone goat grasing on steep grassy slope about 3/4 mile away. It was the only one I had seen all week and probably my only chance. The only feasible approach was about a mile long route that took us around the back side of a saddle. It took us over an hour to make the stalk and the wind was wrong and I was afraid that she was going to catch my scent, but there was no other way to approach the animal. So I stalked to about 400 yards and took the shot. I aimed at the top of the back and the bullet clipped the sternum. She was mortally wounded but not dead yet. So I took some hurried shots and all of them missed. She laid down anyway and I walked to about 200 yards and shot her again. The goat jumped up then dropped dead and rolled onto a flat rock above the edge of a cliff at about 13,000' elevation.
It was a trecherous approach to get to the goat because she was surrounded by cliffs and steep slopes which were covered in melting snow. I dragged it away from the edge of the cliff to field dress her. Then we tried dragging and that wasn't feasible. So we cut the animal in half to carry it down. I had a full size internal frame backpack which was mostly empty. Pete was carrying a small daypack which was full. I put the back half inside my pack. Pete carried the front half on his shoulders. It was 3 1/2 miles horizontally and 3,000' vertically back to the truck. The exit from the cliffs was just as trecherous as the entry and the next 1/2 mile was over steep slippery slopes and snow covered rock fields. That was follwed by a mile of side-hilling over snow-covered slopes, through thick timber and deadfall. We reached a trail just before the sun went down and hiked 1 1/2 hours in the dark to get to the truck.
Here's a picture of myself, the goat and Pete. The goat is the one in the middle. She is not a big goat but she sure is pretty.
