Caribou Gear Tarp

2013 British Columbia Mountain Goat Hunt Pt. 3

warnniklz

Active member
Joined
May 9, 2016
Messages
128
Location
Williams Lake BC Canada
THE FINAL CHAPTER


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Can't forget the link to pt. 2

http://onyourownadventures.com/hunt...2013-British-Columbia-Mountain-Goat-Hunt-Pt-2


October was a busy month for me at work. Between working trade shows and entering bookings, my hunting pretty much came to a halt.

However, I did manage to squeeze in one weekend. It was a bluebird day and there was fresh snow up high. I burned down to the Back Channel. The goats were as low as I'd seen them since April. They weren't much higher than where my trail had been cut. If they came any lower, I could go up the creek again.
 
I started up my trail. As per usual... the fog came rolling in over the mountain tops.

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I got to the end of my trail and the fog was thick. I kept pushing on and marking my trail with flagging tape.

After awhile, I ran out of flagging tape.
 
I marked the last spot I made with flagging tape.
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I had something to eat and tried to wait out the fog. It never did let up and I had to follow my trail out.
 
During October, I had put in my notice at work. I told them I'd be done at the end of December. But the guy taking over for me was getting antsy. So my last day was at the end of November, then got pushed to the middle of November. I was moving 9 hours south and I wanted to chase big bucks during the last week of November.

So I was getting down to crunch time. I was talking to some guys on another forum. Two of them told me to basically go to the same spot. A spot we now call "Dink Mountain."

It should have been an obvious spot. In April, I had seen them way down low. So Friday November 8th, I skipped work. What were they going to do? Fire me?

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I decided to pack along Vanessa. My browning x-bolt 325wsm. I also tossed in my spotting scope, knife, a bottle of gatorade and a couple granola bars. My plan was to hike in and scout out the area.

There was a creek that ran north-south through a canyon that cut through some timber. There was also a big gorge that ran east west. It was not somewhere you'd want to end up. It was a serious drop.
 
The fog was rolling in and out. I wasn't overly concerned. I was just scoping the area out. The valley ran north and kind of hooked around to the west. I wanted to see what was around the back side. In my mind, it was obviously the goat Serengeti.

The abyss is kind of behind me here
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I started my way up the mountain. The vegetation was dead and frozen. None the less, it aided me in climbing. I got myself through one difficult spot I had to climb. I took a breather and started chewing on a granola bar. I looked across the valley and caught something off white. So I set-up my spotting scope.
 
Sure as shit, it was a goat. It was a long shot.

"I could make that shot" I told myself. Then common sense rolled in. Better to blow a stalk than blow a shot. Along with common sense rolling in, you guessed it... fog rolled in.

I took that opportunity to throw everything in my pack and start to climb again. About 15 minutes later, the fog lifted again. I got behind my spotting scope. The goat was still there looking at me.

I was still way too far out. But this was a lone goat. With the rut coming on and me wearing my white hoodie... hopefully I had a better chance with this goat than I did with the ladies at the bar.

Once again the fog rolled in. That was my cue to close some distance. I had to get across a granite face covered in water, frozen moss and ice. I used the little creeks in the fractures to stay out of sight and hopefully cover my cursing.

On cue, the fog lifted. I was sitting in the water, looking at a goat through my spotting scope. Closing the gap, obviously the goat got bigger. But I mean it was bigger. This may actually happen.

I slung Vanessa across my back. When the fog rolled in, I covered the last bit of distance. The fog lifted sooner than I anticipated.

I got down behind a rock. I could hear what sounded like a hoochie mama elk call. I took Vanessa off my back. I slowly raised my rifle. I didn't really have a rest. So I leaded up against a big rock.

The goat was about 200 yards out. Maybe further... maybe closer. I still hadn't replaced my rangefinder. But I had some muscle loaded up today.

The goat was looking at me head on. I was watching it through my rifle scope. "#*^@#* that's big!" I thought. Then the argument in my head began.

"That's obviously a big billy"
"No the horns are too long"
"The gap between them is small"

Then after a moment the goat turned sideways. All went quiet.
 
Once the goat was broadside, I let a 200grain accubond sail down range. The goat hobbled. I fired again. WHUUUMPH!

That sound of an accubond connecting. Now I could see blood coming down the sude of the goat. It was having a hard time staying on all fours. It took some steps behind some alders and I watched it collapse.

Now I had to go get it. By now it was noon. I had to climb back down to my pack. I grabbed my gear. I had to climb back over to the east side of the granite face, up to the top and across to the west side. Then back down a bit, over to the west a bit more and back up.

This whole ordeal of climbing up and over and down took me about an hour. More than enough time for adrenaline to wear off and start replaying the event in my head. This lead me to start second guessing what I had done.

"Was it a billy?"
"What did the horns say?"
"Maybe it's not as big as you thought"

All those types of questions were running through my head.

I finally got back over to the general area of where I wanted to be. There was blood all over the snow. I started following the blood trail. I looked over and here's this goat staring at me over a snow drift.

"Sully... you son of a bitch!" Apparently I misquote Predator when I see critters. Now I've got this wounded goat that should be dead at 10 yards. I could only see his head. So Vanessa in hand, I started climbing up higher to get a better clear shot.

Just as I got in the clear, the goat jumped up. I just made a point blank hip shot and the goat fell into some alders and got hung up. I was about to lay my hands on my first billy.

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I got over to him. I lifted his head off the alders to unhook him. I slipped a bit and let go of my goat. His one horn caught me in the thigh as he started sliding down the mountain. He went sthooting through the frozen alders and went flying off the mountain. I was almost right behind him. I managed to hang onto the alders.

I scrambled to my feet. I started my way down towards my goat. I had no intention of ending up like him, so I was damn careful.

I got down to my goat. He was wedged in a small crack. I couldn't work on him there. By now his coat was soaked. They can hold A LOT of water. I picked up his head and let gravity do most of the dragging. I basically played goat plinko.

I finally got him to a flat ledge. I tried to lift him onto a slightly higher ledge for a nice picture against the mountains. I was so tired... wasn't happening. It was 4pm at this point. It was time to get some pictures and get a knife on him.
 
I Remember being a small kid and watching my dad do some taxidermy work on a mountain goat. After I got to work on my goat, the memory of my dad saying "thicker than a goat ass" came back to me. And it rung true.

At first I thought it'd be a good idea to tube him out like a sock. By now the fog had moved back in and I was working under the light of a headlamp.

Tubing him out wasn't working. His chest was smaller than his shoulders. So then I made the dorsal cut. I got all the meat in game bags. But his cape was saturated with water.

There was no way I was getting him off this mountain in one shot. I didn't wat to leave the head and cape near the carcass.

I loaded my bag full of meat, got it on and struggled to my feet. I couldn't see more than two feet infront of me. So I wrapped some paracord between his horns to fasion a handle. I drug the cape in one hand, while the other clammered for something to hang on to.

I knew the abyss was below me, and not very far. I knew I had to keep heading east. Every step down, if it was further than a foot down, I had to find another way.

It got to the point where I could no longer drag the cape. I took my pack off for a moment and pulled off my hoodie. I rolled the cape up around the head and then stuffed it into my hoodie. I took some paracord and cut it to the length of one of the horns. Then I put it in my pocket.

Once the head and cape were in my make shift game bag... I let it go falling into the abyss. I'd have to come back for it. I hated leaving It... but I wouldn't be able to carry on otherwise.

I kept making my way along the abyss in the dark and fog. I employed the same monkey technique as Alex and myself did to get down the waterfall.

I climbed into some alders and worked my way down them. When I ran out of alders I'd climb up, reach across to the next alder patch and repeat.

I came to a ledge in one of the alder patches. But I was holding onto a big cedar branch. I tested the ledge with my foot. Another cedar branch. I climbed onto the tree and down. It was only five feet back onto the ground.

At this point I had no idea where the abyss was. I was in the dark standing in a fog. I kept pushing eastward. I ended up in a batch of cedar trees. I could physically feel the warmer temperature. The idea of sleeping under the tree seemed like a good idea.

Being soaking wet and cold, I knew I had to be close to getting out of this mess. I kept working my way down and over. Great... another alder patch. I worked my way down until I once again ran out of alders. I climbed up a bit. The far side of the alders was a granite face. Maybe only 10 feet wide.

Hanging onto the alders, I stuck my foot out in search of a footing. I found a level flat spot. I pushed off. Now I was standing on the middle of a granite face. I couldn't reach back to the alders. I couldn't really see the other side of the granite face.

I was stuck.
 
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I stood on that spot thinking of my options. I could wait here until whenever, I could hit SOS on my SPOT or I could make a leap of faith.

As I was trying to decide my best course of action, the fog swirled a bit and I could see a cedar branch poking out. I could almost reach it. This was my way out. I couldn't quiet grab it. So I made a lunge for the branch. I missed the branch.

I started sliding. But this time I only slid 5 feet. I didn't dare move. Then I felt the ground under my boots. It was soft. I was on flat ground again!

I didn't even bother looking for the trail. It was straight line through thick spruce trees. I ended up coming out just yards from my vehicle. I tossed my bag in the back, put a dry shirt on and guzzled some water. It was now 10pm and I was so tired. I just sat there for a moment. The seats were warm and soft.

Then I seen the measuring tape in my cup holder. I rembered the string in my pocket. Ten inches! I realised I hadn't actually taken the time to appreciate my goat.

I got back to town. First place I hit was the A&W drive through and got a double mozza combo with a large rootbeer and poutine. Then I called my dad and told him I got my goat. He told me I didn't sound very excited... but I was just so wiped.

I slept in the next day and retrieved the rest of my goat.
 
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I haven't actually had him officially scored yet. But I kept it conservative
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No rot at the base of his horns
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The biologist at the compulsory inspection wasn't sure if he was 11 or 12. If he was 11, he'd have an impressive lamb tip. Either way, he was a grampa goat.
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