noharleyyet
Well-known member
Effective preface sneaks....hooked
Colorado Mountain Goat.... A novel in the making....
- Thread starter sneakem
- Start date
sneakem
Well-known member
So I guess that I'll cross into the next basin. Although this is definitely the outer fringe of established legitimate goat country, I know there are a few that roam this side. Maybe they went here searching for more remote country, far from hunters. Once again, Great views but no goats...
Well, turns out that my big plan to get it done was a big bust, not only have I not found goats in a killable location there are very few even visible and obviously sign of them being hunted, but I've managed to put in a huge hike on a bad knee for no good.... Back to the lower country for the afternoon so I don't walk out in the dark.
As I cross the pass I can still hear that helicopter. I finally locate the helicopter doing passes down valley. Up and down and side to side. I watch for nearly an hour. I see what looks to be climbers scrambling around on the mountain. I'm thinking to myself great... a hiker has hurt himself. My thinking is my other half is going to hear about some hiker having to be rescued and is automatically going to think its me. I'm wore out, I'm going to hike out, call her, and go scout a few other places I looked earlier in the year. As I descend I meet a few other hikers that had run into some other hunters packing out a goat with llamas. The hunters had told them that they had seen plenty of goats in the area just up from the lake. This did not surprise me as I had glassed numerous goat in the region 2 weeks prior, but had left it as a worst case scenario hunt, as the terrain is definitely not friendly... at all! I went about my route to the trailhead and as I neared here comes the helicopter over head again. It has a cable outstretched and what looks to be a small bag attached, almost what looks to be used in fires just much smaller. It idles over the lake, then continues to the next lake and dissappears over the horizon back towards the mountain it was circling earlier. A few minutes pass with the low hum of the helicopter ever present, and I walk to the trailhead. There are hundred of tourist taking in the infamous views of the " Deadly Bells" but there is also an alarming presence of forest service employees, and sheriffs department. About this time the helicopter return slowing to a halt over the parking area. I look at the bag.... its not what I thought, it was a body bag....
https://www.facebook.com/kelly.fend....1650638592/10209080490083324/?type=3&theater
My heart sank... my prayers go out to this poor mans family. The gentlemen had fallen the night I had arrived, once again reminding those who tread here to head the warnings posted below. Beautiful but silent killers... A grim reminder that any step here could potentially be your last, I began thinking about all the times, with one slip... that could have easily been me, just as well.... Its wasn't that long ago a goat hunter met the same fate... on that very same mountain. I drove a scouteda few locations I had previously seen goats, but no luck, just added a few more miles of walking to an already ridiculous amount. I went back that night, sore and in much worse condition than I had started. I formulated a plan to go into the area the hunters had seen all the goats....thinking over and over about this poor hiker and his family... I didn't sleep...
Well, turns out that my big plan to get it done was a big bust, not only have I not found goats in a killable location there are very few even visible and obviously sign of them being hunted, but I've managed to put in a huge hike on a bad knee for no good.... Back to the lower country for the afternoon so I don't walk out in the dark.
As I cross the pass I can still hear that helicopter. I finally locate the helicopter doing passes down valley. Up and down and side to side. I watch for nearly an hour. I see what looks to be climbers scrambling around on the mountain. I'm thinking to myself great... a hiker has hurt himself. My thinking is my other half is going to hear about some hiker having to be rescued and is automatically going to think its me. I'm wore out, I'm going to hike out, call her, and go scout a few other places I looked earlier in the year. As I descend I meet a few other hikers that had run into some other hunters packing out a goat with llamas. The hunters had told them that they had seen plenty of goats in the area just up from the lake. This did not surprise me as I had glassed numerous goat in the region 2 weeks prior, but had left it as a worst case scenario hunt, as the terrain is definitely not friendly... at all! I went about my route to the trailhead and as I neared here comes the helicopter over head again. It has a cable outstretched and what looks to be a small bag attached, almost what looks to be used in fires just much smaller. It idles over the lake, then continues to the next lake and dissappears over the horizon back towards the mountain it was circling earlier. A few minutes pass with the low hum of the helicopter ever present, and I walk to the trailhead. There are hundred of tourist taking in the infamous views of the " Deadly Bells" but there is also an alarming presence of forest service employees, and sheriffs department. About this time the helicopter return slowing to a halt over the parking area. I look at the bag.... its not what I thought, it was a body bag....
https://www.facebook.com/kelly.fend....1650638592/10209080490083324/?type=3&theater
My heart sank... my prayers go out to this poor mans family. The gentlemen had fallen the night I had arrived, once again reminding those who tread here to head the warnings posted below. Beautiful but silent killers... A grim reminder that any step here could potentially be your last, I began thinking about all the times, with one slip... that could have easily been me, just as well.... Its wasn't that long ago a goat hunter met the same fate... on that very same mountain. I drove a scouteda few locations I had previously seen goats, but no luck, just added a few more miles of walking to an already ridiculous amount. I went back that night, sore and in much worse condition than I had started. I formulated a plan to go into the area the hunters had seen all the goats....thinking over and over about this poor hiker and his family... I didn't sleep...
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ElkHunter11
New member
That is a terrible tragedy and prayers go out for that mans family. Will also be praying that you have a safe and successful rest of the hunt.
sneakem
Well-known member
So 4 am rolled around and I set out to continue my hunt. Once again rising from my 4 foot coffin in the back seat of my truck. But as I stepped out it was not good...80% had felt like 60% today. I looked at the gps, I had nearly 18 miles roundtrip yesterday. Not unusally long but still most it was walking on sharp rocks, twisting, turning, buckling. All of this would be exceptionally hard on a person feeling 100%. Having to compensate for the injury just rose the damage toll. It was so disheartening with all the training and preparation that I had put into this. At no point had I ever felt that my conditioning could be better, I was never short of breath, my recovery from long bursts of climbing was quick. I was moving fast. But my knee hurt, and then I would compensate and it cause my hip to hurt from swinging my leg, then it became my butt. Not to mention your feet from the rocks. Did I mention they're sharp and you step on them all day. My morale was dropping the farther I got and each goat was higher and more inaccessible than the last. Just a side note... good boots are a must, just like everyone says. I think i did alright in my selection but if I were to add a note it would not only size them with thick socks, but to leave extra room in the toes than needed. Reason being that you spend a lot of time with gravity cramming your toes into the tip of your boots as you descend. This is the area I felt mine could have used the most improvement. And man, that rock will eat some rubber and leather off in no time sharp... Boots may be the biggest tool in my opinion. Even with good soles, those rocks will pound your feet....
So I made my way to the Len Shoemaker ridge. I had seen numerous goats here in my scouting, it looked as prime as it get as far as goat country. For those of you who do not know I thought I may share a little history behind the naming of the ridge. I am to lazy to type it but I stole and excerpt from a blog detailing this...
Taking a rest...looking up at goats. Did I mention it was unseasonably warm...
I began glassing the ridge, bench a surround hillsides. Goats!!! can't get to them. Goats on the bench. I study routes through the cliff bands. Possibility? Young billies, won't work. Nannies topping the peak, no joy. I stand to stretch, my knee pops and aches. I sit back down. Disgusted. Negativity running through my head constantly. I pout... I'm pissed... Bad mood selfie...
So I made my way to the Len Shoemaker ridge. I had seen numerous goats here in my scouting, it looked as prime as it get as far as goat country. For those of you who do not know I thought I may share a little history behind the naming of the ridge. I am to lazy to type it but I stole and excerpt from a blog detailing this...
the aforementioned country...
Taking a rest...looking up at goats. Did I mention it was unseasonably warm...
I began glassing the ridge, bench a surround hillsides. Goats!!! can't get to them. Goats on the bench. I study routes through the cliff bands. Possibility? Young billies, won't work. Nannies topping the peak, no joy. I stand to stretch, my knee pops and aches. I sit back down. Disgusted. Negativity running through my head constantly. I pout... I'm pissed... Bad mood selfie...
bigdonniebrasco
Active member
Can i pre-order this book
LopeHunter
Well-known member
Great pictures and an outstanding recap!
I hunted goats in the unit to the east a couple of years ago. Before that adventure, I hunted goats in Alaska about 7 years ago. Was invigorating at times each day in ways I do not encounter in my normal life as a desk jockey. Has been interesting, as someone on the backside of 40, to take measure against the mountain. The emotional rollercoaster you describe was ever present.
I returned from the goat hunt in Alaska saying once was enough and never again. I knew that with certainty as limped into my first day back in the office knowing I had taken too many risks and cheated death once on the hike in and once on the hike out. Then the cuts heal and the bruises fade. Application time rolls around and just one more high country hunt seems doable. I am now over 50 and one of the slowest guys up the mountain with a backpack though that gives me more time to take in the scenery. The call of the mountain is powerful.
I hunted goats in the unit to the east a couple of years ago. Before that adventure, I hunted goats in Alaska about 7 years ago. Was invigorating at times each day in ways I do not encounter in my normal life as a desk jockey. Has been interesting, as someone on the backside of 40, to take measure against the mountain. The emotional rollercoaster you describe was ever present.
I returned from the goat hunt in Alaska saying once was enough and never again. I knew that with certainty as limped into my first day back in the office knowing I had taken too many risks and cheated death once on the hike in and once on the hike out. Then the cuts heal and the bruises fade. Application time rolls around and just one more high country hunt seems doable. I am now over 50 and one of the slowest guys up the mountain with a backpack though that gives me more time to take in the scenery. The call of the mountain is powerful.
I love the Bells! Truly one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Riding the shuttle bus with a dead animal would be interesting 
After I came back from my solo goat hunt my Wife told me I was a little PTSD. I wouldn't call the experience "fun" exactly, but "life-changing" for sure.
Best of luck to you!
After I came back from my solo goat hunt my Wife told me I was a little PTSD. I wouldn't call the experience "fun" exactly, but "life-changing" for sure.
Best of luck to you!
sneakem
Well-known member
Well I finally compose myself, drag myself to my feet again and continue up the drainage. I continue up to the stream crossing, peering back up the mountain wish the young billies were not billies at all. As I cross the stream I turn and look at the mountain behind me. Now I have mostly kept my eyes off this mountain. Main reason being my personal history with this mountain and its twin, also the ever looming thought of the gentlemen yesterday who lost his life on these sinister twins. Its not so much the hike in on the route, its the when you get off the trail. I had also discussed with my significant other, prior to the hunt, my desire to never set foot there... As I look up the mountain, this particular face is alive with goats. 3 here, 4 there, 2 over here, 1 bedded there. Most being inaccessible but 3 (2 nannies and 1 kid)notably are in what looks to be a favorable spot. Not only that, they are mid mountain and very close to the trail heading up the mountain. Tough choice... Do I face the mountain I fear or let the only accessible goats I have seen walk away. Saddle up cowboy...!! I start up the mountain at a hurried pace, I can barely notice the clicking in my knee cap. Up, Up, Up, Still there feeding. Hikers... uh... they are catching up to me, closing, I'm not as fast as they are. I stop. We speak. They ask if I'm hunting, I respond, they say they'll be quiet and continue on. We continue up the mountain with them pulling ahead quickly. I notice the goats are getting nervous and starting to wander up the hill. Taking a shot would be unsafe with the hikers in proximity and its a little far 5-600 yards. They move onto a little flat and start feeding to the right farther from the trail. 438... hikers are nearly out of the way... They walk over the ridge, there another grass flat over there. I analyze access and see a few potential routes. I leave the trail and side hill and move to a rock outcrop about 400 yards away to get into a good shooting position. I poke my head over the rock outcrop to see the goats almost completely across the flat heading into the next gully. This is it... get the gun... put them in the scope... catch my breath... take the safety off... they speed into the ravine... Damn.
The goats had walked across that beautiful meadow in the center of this picture and the disappeared into the gully just out of sight to the right. What a missed opportunity. Nice flat grassy spot with what looks like a grassy access up the middle or possibly side hill around from the left where they came from. Couldn't have gotten any better, right?
I patiently watched to see if the goats would exit the gully either back into the flat or cross onto the cliffs and continue up the mountain. I watched for almost an hour with no goats coming or leaving. The other goats I could see on the mountain or mountains across valley had now bedded down as well. I figured these goat must have gone to lay in that shady gully. I decided that maybe I could sneak up on that flat, and stalk those goats in there beds. I saw a nice grassy chute between the cliffs I thought I could go right up. I climbed towards the chute, started to ascend and made it about 3/4 of the way up. It was not a nice grassy chute... it was and 75 degree rock face with grass growing out of it, I was cliffed out.... I carefully inched my way back down the slippery face. I decided that I could cross the face where the goats originally came from. So out and around I went climbing to the shelf. As I arrived I scurried up the loose rock and grass to the face of the rock. It was amazing how steep it was compared to what it looked like below. I saw about a 6 foot shelf in front of the rock with a 20 foot steepened pitch to the face of the cliff. Looks doable...
I start to scurry around the face of the rock and I happen to look up. I notice 2 nannies and a kid walking up the hill on the opposite side of the gully I thought they had bedded in. I watched them continue walking... higher and higher and over the top of the next ridge. No going there... I had literally watched my chance slip away.
The goats crossed over the ridge to the right side of the picture...
I sat and sulked, and kept watching the hillside for over an hour, hoping that magically another nanny would just appear and walk out on the grassy slopes. I ate lunch and watched...nothing. I stood to stretch, crack, pop, searing pain in my knee. I knew that I should probably get myself off this mountain. So down I go... thought running through my head about my ability to continue to do this again. What if I physically can't and I'm the guys that has to eat this tag... I hate tag soup.. Anyone that know me knows I would never give up. I'm out here limping around and the odds are stacked against me. Healthy and I would be all over this... It ate at me as I descended the mountain.
About 200 hundred yards down the trail I meet another hiker. He asks if I was hunting and if I had any luck. I told him I had seen goats but I did not get one. He tell me that he just saw a family of goats walking up the mountain here about an hour ago. I explain that I saw them too... right as they walked over the mountain. He chuckles, I shrug my shoulders, we wish each other a good day and continue on our ways. About 100 yards down the trail on a steep drop I lose my footing and fall straight back on my pack... sliding down the mountain, digging every appendage I have into the ground to try to stop. Eventually my pack snags a rock and halts my slide downward. I lay there for a moment, then unbuckle myself from my pack. I roll over onto my stomach and lay there face down for a moment to regroup myself. I'm sure that I said every swear word I've heard in my life silently in my own head. I couldn't wait to get off this God Da#$ mountain.... I crawled to my knees, took a breath, stood up and dusted myself off...
The goats had walked across that beautiful meadow in the center of this picture and the disappeared into the gully just out of sight to the right. What a missed opportunity. Nice flat grassy spot with what looks like a grassy access up the middle or possibly side hill around from the left where they came from. Couldn't have gotten any better, right?
I patiently watched to see if the goats would exit the gully either back into the flat or cross onto the cliffs and continue up the mountain. I watched for almost an hour with no goats coming or leaving. The other goats I could see on the mountain or mountains across valley had now bedded down as well. I figured these goat must have gone to lay in that shady gully. I decided that maybe I could sneak up on that flat, and stalk those goats in there beds. I saw a nice grassy chute between the cliffs I thought I could go right up. I climbed towards the chute, started to ascend and made it about 3/4 of the way up. It was not a nice grassy chute... it was and 75 degree rock face with grass growing out of it, I was cliffed out.... I carefully inched my way back down the slippery face. I decided that I could cross the face where the goats originally came from. So out and around I went climbing to the shelf. As I arrived I scurried up the loose rock and grass to the face of the rock. It was amazing how steep it was compared to what it looked like below. I saw about a 6 foot shelf in front of the rock with a 20 foot steepened pitch to the face of the cliff. Looks doable...
I start to scurry around the face of the rock and I happen to look up. I notice 2 nannies and a kid walking up the hill on the opposite side of the gully I thought they had bedded in. I watched them continue walking... higher and higher and over the top of the next ridge. No going there... I had literally watched my chance slip away.
The goats crossed over the ridge to the right side of the picture...
I sat and sulked, and kept watching the hillside for over an hour, hoping that magically another nanny would just appear and walk out on the grassy slopes. I ate lunch and watched...nothing. I stood to stretch, crack, pop, searing pain in my knee. I knew that I should probably get myself off this mountain. So down I go... thought running through my head about my ability to continue to do this again. What if I physically can't and I'm the guys that has to eat this tag... I hate tag soup.. Anyone that know me knows I would never give up. I'm out here limping around and the odds are stacked against me. Healthy and I would be all over this... It ate at me as I descended the mountain.
About 200 hundred yards down the trail I meet another hiker. He asks if I was hunting and if I had any luck. I told him I had seen goats but I did not get one. He tell me that he just saw a family of goats walking up the mountain here about an hour ago. I explain that I saw them too... right as they walked over the mountain. He chuckles, I shrug my shoulders, we wish each other a good day and continue on our ways. About 100 yards down the trail on a steep drop I lose my footing and fall straight back on my pack... sliding down the mountain, digging every appendage I have into the ground to try to stop. Eventually my pack snags a rock and halts my slide downward. I lay there for a moment, then unbuckle myself from my pack. I roll over onto my stomach and lay there face down for a moment to regroup myself. I'm sure that I said every swear word I've heard in my life silently in my own head. I couldn't wait to get off this God Da#$ mountain.... I crawled to my knees, took a breath, stood up and dusted myself off...
bigdonniebrasco
Active member
TYPE FASTER..... on the edge of my seat!
ElkHunter11
New member
REFRESH, REFRESH... Man, my palms are sweating after reading that last one! This is a great story, Sneakem.
sneakem
Well-known member
As I lifted my head, I looked up the mountain and took another deep breath. Then this little white ball is suddenly frolicking across the grassy spot I had just came from. Then another strolls out, and another... and two more... and then two more... and another. A whole damn herd of nanny and kids come walking out of that gully onto that grass flat. I immediately go into oh crap mode, like nothing had even just happened, scrambling for my gear. I unstrap my rifle from my pack and start to position myself to shoot. I scan the hillside to find the hiker I had passed, he was well out of danger, no other hikers on the horizon. Holy crap!! The stars have aligned and this is about to happen. I scan to see which nannies have kids and those that don't. I find this horse of a nanny that seems to be alone, she's the one. I put the scope up and settle on the front shoulder, going to anchor her with a high shoulder, slow my breath and heartbeat. Crack!! she jumps and looks around. That sounded like a miss... I chamber another round and settle on that shoulder again, I pick my spot and slowly squeeze again. Crack!! She jumps and see the bullet strike about foot in front of her. Damn!! I fell on my gun... its off. I quickly chamber another round and adjust the hold, pulling it to her back hip and squeeze. This should find its mark!! Boom.... WOP! She drops instantly, but she is barrel rolling down the mountain... and rolling... and rolling. Is she going to stop before she makes it to the cliff? She slows to a halt... teetering belly up, just waiting for the slightest breath to push her in motion again. My heart is racing, did this just happen? I watch, she doesn't move, I grab my gear and scramble up the hill around the face on the bench and out on the grass flat. Only the grass flat is not flat, not flat at all, its steep, really frikin steep. I inch out towards her across the scree and rocky grass. I did it! I took my photos, said a couple of prayers, cleaned and boned and packed her up.
She was beautiful, no scrag hair, fairly long for this time of year. Everything survived the roll down the hill except for a broken leg and a couple dings to the face. About this time the adrenaline had wore off and everything started to ache again. I had contemplated hiking out to get my brother in law to help me pack it out the next day. The more I thought about it, there was no way I was going to make it back up here again tomorrow... I gotta get it out now. I loaded the head and hide, all the meat and all my gear on that pack. It took everything I had to stand up with it, I'm sure it was in excess of 100 lbs... I slowly inched my way down. Down was terrible, It was pinching in my knee on every step. My feet were starting to get raw from stepping on the sharp rocks, my toes crammed forcefully to the tips of my boots After about 2 hours I made it to the bottom of the mountain and now I just had to walk the creek out a little over 5 miles. I would walk a half mile, and find a boulder to sit on, pack height, so that I could take weight off and rest, but not have to stand up again lifting the weight of the pack. The farther I went the more it began to ache. Soon my hip from swinging my bad knee, my but muscles, my legs started to get wobbly from overexertion, my shoulder from the strap, my back. I just kept solemnly trudging towards the finish.
The look of exhaustion
I can see the finish, just got to get to those little red mountains... 2.5 miles...
As I wandered to the trailhead, feet dragging, drenched in sweat, I stumbled through hoards of on lookers at the lake. I'm sure that I looked like a zombie staggering down the trail, I'm sure I smelled like a rotten corpse. There were quite a few that were excited to see what was going on with this beaten guy and this giant pack. A number asked if I had gotten anything and were excited to see what was in there. I made it to the truck and dropped the tailgate, slid myself out from underneath the pack. I lied there half propped up in the truck bed while the curious few inspected the goat. A few moments later as they left. As I lay there thinking about all that had transpired the last couple of day, all the ups and downs, the struggle, the elation, the fallen hiker... I couldn't help but well up with tears.... it was too much. It was everything I hoped it would be and more. I pulled myself together and loaded my gear into the truck, packed my goat into the cooler and returned to the overlook at the lake. I watched the sun slip over the hill and the dark start to creep in. I bid my farewell to this beautiful but dangerously deceiving wildness and thanked her for all she had given to me.... I'll never forget!!
She was beautiful, no scrag hair, fairly long for this time of year. Everything survived the roll down the hill except for a broken leg and a couple dings to the face. About this time the adrenaline had wore off and everything started to ache again. I had contemplated hiking out to get my brother in law to help me pack it out the next day. The more I thought about it, there was no way I was going to make it back up here again tomorrow... I gotta get it out now. I loaded the head and hide, all the meat and all my gear on that pack. It took everything I had to stand up with it, I'm sure it was in excess of 100 lbs... I slowly inched my way down. Down was terrible, It was pinching in my knee on every step. My feet were starting to get raw from stepping on the sharp rocks, my toes crammed forcefully to the tips of my boots After about 2 hours I made it to the bottom of the mountain and now I just had to walk the creek out a little over 5 miles. I would walk a half mile, and find a boulder to sit on, pack height, so that I could take weight off and rest, but not have to stand up again lifting the weight of the pack. The farther I went the more it began to ache. Soon my hip from swinging my bad knee, my but muscles, my legs started to get wobbly from overexertion, my shoulder from the strap, my back. I just kept solemnly trudging towards the finish.
The look of exhaustion
I can see the finish, just got to get to those little red mountains... 2.5 miles...
As I wandered to the trailhead, feet dragging, drenched in sweat, I stumbled through hoards of on lookers at the lake. I'm sure that I looked like a zombie staggering down the trail, I'm sure I smelled like a rotten corpse. There were quite a few that were excited to see what was going on with this beaten guy and this giant pack. A number asked if I had gotten anything and were excited to see what was in there. I made it to the truck and dropped the tailgate, slid myself out from underneath the pack. I lied there half propped up in the truck bed while the curious few inspected the goat. A few moments later as they left. As I lay there thinking about all that had transpired the last couple of day, all the ups and downs, the struggle, the elation, the fallen hiker... I couldn't help but well up with tears.... it was too much. It was everything I hoped it would be and more. I pulled myself together and loaded my gear into the truck, packed my goat into the cooler and returned to the overlook at the lake. I watched the sun slip over the hill and the dark start to creep in. I bid my farewell to this beautiful but dangerously deceiving wildness and thanked her for all she had given to me.... I'll never forget!!
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noharleyyet
Well-known member
Thanks for the thoughtful recount...well done sir.
bigdonniebrasco
Active member
Can hardly WAIT for the movie !!!!
EPIC !
EPIC !
BuzzH
Well-known member
Nice work on the story and the goat.
Very well done.
Congratulations!
Very well done.
Congratulations!
DRAFTSTUD
Well-known member
I have been following Sneakem for many years and it is always a raw experience. You Sir drag us along until even our toes hurt. Thank you! John
ElkHunter11
New member
Wow, what an incredible ride along. Congratulations on your beautiful goat and all that hard work you put in to get her. Hopefully you go on another hunt soon so we can have another mini novel at our fingertips!
HighDesertSage
Well-known member
Excellent write up. Thanks for sharing and congrats.
