A dream season....PICTURE heavy

[bigbore14]

A killer hunting season


This fall has been absolutely incredible to say the least! With a job that can travel with mobile internet, I switched to the bell network and put some miles on the truck, on the quad, and even more so, on the boots. I started the season tipping the scale at 245lbs and this morning weighed in at 215. I wasn’t much of a hiker before, in fact I dreaded “hikes”, but I have since learned to slow down and enjoy just getting to look over another mountain. A cliché yes, but the more you hike the easier it becomes.


Between spring bear and turkey hunting was fishing season. I went out with a few people, one a friend I met on HuntingBC.ca, named pnbrock. He’s a hell of a good fisherman, and I learned a ton fishing with him. We did well and had a lot of fun doing it. It was definitely a good pause between hunting seasons.

First up was my first white tailed deer hunt. Manitoba style. I met another great friend on HBC who offered to take me out to shoot a big old prairie buck. Who wouldn’t want to do that? Not to mention that this guy was incredible at hunting whitetail!


I have never thought one could know deer so well. He knew where they were traveling, what they were doing, who was there, and when they did it. I got set up in one of many tree stands, twice daily and for 40 hours over the course of a week, waiting patiently for one of the big bruisers on the trail cam. Mostly does and one small buck had come by over the week.


Then on the second to last day I saw a doe coming by followed by a 4x4 buck. It wasn’t one of the monsters from the pictures, but it was go time. At 20 yards he stopped broadside and looked up at the fellow in the tree. Unfortunately for him, I had already drawn, and my finger was gently touching the trigger.


What looked like a perfect shot was tracked an hour later. There was blood, but something didn’t seem right. 200 yards down the hill we jumped him from his death bed. So we decided to pull out and go for breakfast. 3 hours later and another 200 yards further we found my first archery whitetail all piled up. What a terrific hunt! Can’t wait to go back and do it all over again.

 

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As soon as that hunt ended (Sept 5th) I had to get back home and start preparing for a bull moose/grizzly combo hunt. We both had bull moose draws, and my wife held the only coveted grizzly draw in the area. For 10 days near Fort St. James, we hunted hard, floating the rivers, hitting the cut blocks, quading to learn the area, and practicing calling moose.
We did find some grizzly tracks, but the salmon had left the rivers, and their tracks were cold. They were already on their way to their winter dens high in the peaks out of our area. I did try predator calling for the grizzly, but only called in a lone coyote, which we couldn’t shoot for fear it spooked the bear. I also had a chance at 2 wolves, one while I was on a boat, floating at 300 yards, however I just couldn’t get steady due to the boat rocking. The second was on a moose kill, but as I lined up for the shot it loped gracefully away and I couldn’t shoot as my wife would be deaf from the muzzle blast from where she was standing.

On day 3 it rained, so we decided to forgo the quad and ride in the truck. I had just read about fresh clear cuts and decided to check one out that was nearby. I was beginning to think I had just wasted 20 minutes checking this area when something caught my wife’s eye. It was a burnt stump in a brand new clear cut. Strange I thought, and so we stopped for a look. There at 500 yards was a nice black bear. My wife had yet to shoot a big game animal, and since she had spotted it, it was all hers. The soft wet ground and piles of logs allowed us to get to within 100 yards. We found a nice rest and yet the bear wouldn’t come out from behind a single log that was just covering its vitals. When it did, the bear was moving away. We had no choice but to follow it and get in closer for a shot. I thought the stalk was blown as the bear retreated to the forest, but then it stopped for a second and went back to feeding. That was when things went all wrong. The bear started towards us from 50 yards, Cory had no rest, and I had left my gun back at the last rest. I grabbed a 3 foot log and balanced it on end. “Kneel and shoot fast!” At 20 yards the shot rang out and the bear leapt, fleeing in the other direction. “Again! Anywhere you can hit him!” I urged. Bang! Flop! Another first for us. What a rush and what a feeling. Cory was shaking uncontrollably, more out of fear, or excitement, I do not know. When the dust settled we walked up to a gorgeous bear. Light tan muzzle, no rubs, and jet black. Wasn’t a monster by any means, but it was a memory I will never forget. From spotting it, to skinning it out, that was her bear.

We did manage to call in two moose that trip, one came in when it was too dark and we couldn’t get a shot on the moose who was answering 50 yards away with a Mwah – Mwah. The other on the last morning of the hunt was a cow that we called into 150 yards and we didn’t even see until we turned around to head back to the quad. Sure enough she was just standing there with a look on her face as if to say, who is this idiot bellowing like my sister. As hard as I searched for nubs, there were no antlers. Other than that we only saw one other moose and he was running at 200 yards in the morning mist into the thick.

I had also invited up another friend who had a moose tag. He only hunted for 4 days, and on day 3 a black bear ran across the road in front of us as we were driving back to camp on the quads. Fumbling to get his gun from a bush league, duct taped, gun case mounted on his quad I was very surprised to see the bear was still standing in the cut block. As he had never shot one I told him it was a definite shooter and to aim right for the middle of his neck. Didn’t want to waste the meat. Yeah, I enjoy it, makes a great sausage. Easy shot, 50 yards, what could go wrong? Boom! Went the 7mm 140 gr TSX right through the jugular of the beast. Still standing the blood poured, and I mean poured like 2 garden hoses from the neck of the bear. He said, “Dave, should I shoot again?” I said, “No, he’s about to fall over in about 5 seconds.” The bear made it 7 paces and fell over dead. Walking up to it there were some nerves moving, so I said to back out give him 20 minutes.

I went back to camp to get my truck and my wife. Twenty minutes later I was back at the bear. We walk up to him to take some pictures armed with a camera. Just a point and shoot digital, nothing that could actually be used as a weapon. But then again I knew this bear was dead by the vast amount of blood which had streamed from his neck. That was my second mistake. As I approached from behind 10 feet away the bear GETS UP! What? Oh crap….He is on his feet and looking at us! Turn and fight? Or flight? The 6’4” nose to tail monster knew better than to tangle with a 220lb ninja like myself. It ran for its life! Made it another 30 yards and lay down again. We made it back to the quad, retrieved the gun intending to give it the coup de grace. One to the heart to end it. Though I wasn’t sure there was any blood left in this animal. As the shot rang out the bear leapt to its feet again and ran, turning to face us at 20 yards before falling over and saying his final words. Note to self, never neck shoot a bear again, these suckers are tough, had it been in thick bush it could have gone much worse! Now I know why they say you should always break the front shoulder of the bear to immobilize it, taking the lungs and heart with it.

 

[bigbore14]

From there we went home to get packed for the big trip of the season. Two weeks at the end of September beginning of October for Stone sheep, goats, elk, moose, and caribou. After washing and cleaning and repacking gear we headed north, hours past Fort Nelson on the Alaska Highway. This trip was to be done on horseback. It would be my first horse trip. Earlier in the year I had taken a horse packing course, and for a week I got to learn a ton about all aspects of riding and packing horses. Horses aren’t like dogs that respond to love and affection. These animals respond to pressure and release of that pressure. You must control your horse or it will control you. Apply pressure to get the horse to do something, when it responds, release the pressure.


We were dropped off on the Alaska Highway with 1200lbs of gear. With 8 horses this would take 2 trips. Why we had to bring so much crap is beyond me. But we had everything! In all seriousness one of the guys suggested bringing a kitchen sink to wash dishes in, to which my eyes widened and the look on my face must have said, “are you serious?” The 3 of us rode in and set up a beautiful camp.


Now hunting with the older generations is interesting. Yes, they have forgotten more than I know about hunting, but their motivation is different than a young 31 year olds is. Mine, is to conquer the world and all the animals in it, while theirs is to relax, enjoy the autumn breeze, sip coffee watching the sunrise, and relive hunts from the past. Also, older people in general love organization. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. We young guys just want to mark our gps where we drop camp and hit the trails! There have been animals living in these hills for thousands of years, and it’s our job to put an end to that! It’s like the old bull talking to the young bull on the hill.

First day is setting up camp. Had some tarps strung up, had camp made and things organized. Next day was hunting! The great thing about hunting on horses is you can cover some serious ground without walking an inch. Also, they are quiet and can get in close to other animals. They are also more alert than their riders and can pin point with their ears, something that you can’t see or hear. The bad part is that every morning you have to find them as they have hobbled off to greener pastures, sometimes many miles away. Another great thing about horses is that they can haul out a moose or anything in places a quad won’t go; but back to the hunt.

Day two we spotted our first grizzly, one of many. In total, we must have seen 12 grizzlies and only 1 black bear. As we had ridden all day we headed back to camp. All of a sudden there in the alpine not 250 yards away is a good bull moose. I jump off the horse, whip off my pack, set my spotting scope on my tripod and look closely to see if it is indeed a legal bull. Yep, shoot, I say to Peter. Boom, boom, followed by a few more booms, I then grabbed my rifle and lent a helping piece of lead to take the beast down. Approaching it we find a good bull. Peter is satisfied, and we have a need for a meat poll. Gutless quartering and one and a half hours later we are 2 kms back in camp with a moose. Anyone who doesn’t know the gutless method, you should learn it as it is so much easier than sawing and chopping. And it’s way faster too!

A few days later in the hunt I got to stalk my first caribou. I could only get 500 yards away as I ran more than 2kms to close the distance. However on the way I came across a grizzly which was heading towards the same caribou. I was hidden; however the bull saw the bear and made for the trees. Two days after caribou closed I came across the very same caribou lower on the same mountain and almost cried as it was a real beauty, with large bladed tops and good points all around. But hey, that’s hunting.

That evening we set up high on a hill glassing the alpine for anything. Four kms away I spot a nice bull moose bedded in the snow. Not sure if he's legal we close the gap, but it’s getting dark and the old guys know it’s best to get going home. I stressed that we should ride for 45 more minutes to try to close the distance to see if it is at least legal and worth coming back for in the morning. Sure enough we meet cliffs about 30 minutes later and are forced to retreat. We didn’t know if it was legal, but the horns were way out there.


The next morning I have the packs on the horses and the horses saddled by 9am. We are going to shoot my first moose, well, hopefully. By chance on the way we spot our first band of 3 rams. At 900 yards we can’t be sure any are legal, but they all look like they are under the bridge of the nose. Then up pops this guy, between us and the sheep! Like most snaky sheep hunters, some guy snuck through a trench between us and the sheep. He slipped by us, and I assure you he had to have seen us. There was no way he could have got to where he was without having seen us and our 8 horses. Like the competitive snakes some of them are, he slithered past us and I was very happy when I didn’t hear a shot. If he had shot a ram I would have cried, as I was the only one with a tag in our group of 3. Almost felt like letting off a warning shot to get those sheep moving. But my better judgment got the better of me and I took the high road! I was now chasing my moose which I had just spotted!


Weaving and walking my way down with the horses towards the valley floor, I hurried towards where I had last seen the moose. He was bedded in the snow with his cow, halfway up a mountain, well into the alpine. We got to a vantage point at the last ridge and eased over the edge looking across the next valley at a definitely legal good first bull. But how far? My Bushnell rangefinder couldn’t range it. I asked the old golf addicted man lying next to me what the range was. 350 yards was his response. It’s hard to tell with nothing in between you and the moose though; I’m on one hill he’s on the next. I thought it looked like 350 also. But because my rangefinder wasn’t working I radioed the guy holding the horses to bring us his range finder. Well that is when things got complicated…I am laying down set up on this moose, and next thing we hear from the radio, “Legal caribou herd heading your way!” We turn 180 to see about 20 caribou trotting right behind us 250 yards away. I say to him, “Peter, you have always wanted a legal caribou and I don’t have one foot in the grave, I’ll find one another year. You shoot this one! I’ll take care of this moose.” And off ran the 58 year old to close the distance. Again, the shots rang out. Quite a few. Caribou aren’t known as a tough animal to kill, but they are if you don’t hit them in the right spots. Finally it was down, and I was back waiting for the rangefinder.

One hundred yards away Stewart drops his radio in the snow and stops to look for it. Signaling to Peter to come help find it, I wait impatiently hoping this moose doesn’t go anywhere. Twenty minutes later they find it and over comes Stewart to tell me it’s exactly 650 yards. Way too far for my capabilities on a live animal, so I traverse down and around the mountain and up the other side using rocky out cropping to hide behind. They are watching the whole thing unfold from their perfect vantage point. The wind is perfect and I tell them the only time to radio me is if the bull is leaving. The radio is quiet and I close the distance to pop out behind a ledge not 20 yards from the massive bull. I Kind of wished I had my bow as the bull stood up and looked at this funny creature holding some kind of grey antler in his hand (my gun) wanting to challenge the king of the mountain and steal his woman. I put the cross hairs on the heart and for some reason I hesitated. Just then the cow walks out from perfectly behind the bull; she would have been hit if the bullet had been sent through. I drank the scene in. Two Bull Moose inside of 30 yards, the sun shining and the autumn mountain air blowing lightly on my face. Leaning into the rifle I shot the animal right through the heart, a quick follow up shot on the standing animal made his legs wobble and his eyes widen. Then like the king of the mountain being dethroned, he toppled over backwards and gave up his breath.


I quartered and skinned the quarters alone in less time than it took the more experienced hunters to do up a caribou together. It’s not easy to do alone, nor is it easy to take pictures of a moose alone. Shoving and twisting I got it onto its knees somehow got some good pictures of the brute. I was proud; this was my first really big game animal. I left it quartered in the freezing evening to come back in the morning with the horses again. I tied my shirt to its antler and hoped the grizzlies we had seen on Peter’s kill wouldn’t show up, or wolves or ravens.


Again, that is when things went sour. We got lost. I had tried to use my iphone as a GPS that day as there was a cell tower in sight, but alas it was not a cell tower, and for some reason the GPS didn’t work. I had a compass, but it didn’t come out as the two older fellows KNEW where we were going. It was dark and eventually we had to trust the horses to get us back to camp. Give it its nose and it’ll take you home. Sure enough, in the pitch black with nothing but stars out the horses got us back to the trail and back to camp. It’s a funny feeling being lost.


Upon returning the next morning to the moose I was devastated as I climbed the hill to see ravens flying from over the kill. Then with gun ready we eased over the hill not knowing what to expect. Luckily and to our surprise, neither the ravens nor anything else had touched the kill. What a relief.

Over the next few days we caught some fish, and ran into a band of 2 more rams, one of which was just under the bridge of the nose. Also, we put a stalk on a good moose for Stewart, the biggest of the three 4x5 in the fronts but the wind changed and we had a shot at 300 yards but he couldn’t get to a rest in time to take the shot before they disappeared into the trees below.

Then on the last day, in the last hours of the hunt, I called in a 1 horn broken legal bull for Stewart to shoot. Would have been a real doozie hadn’t it have been broken off! It was shot for meat as apparently we didn’t have enough yet. Packing it out the weather changed in seconds to the worst storm I think I have ever been in. The rain was sideways with hurricane force winds; even the horses lowered their heads and closed their eyes going into the storm. Then as quickly as it hit us, it was gone! The next day we packed up and headed home. What an adventure doing a horse trip. Well worth doing. I would highly recommend it to anyone.

 

[bigbore14]

A few more days at home and it was then time to go for goats. Talking to BC Billies and a few others on HBC and reading their stories got me wanting a goat. A billy in particular. So with LEH’s in hand, a good friend and I named Chris headed towards the Rocky Mountains. He had spotted some good goats the year previous, way in the back on an elk hunt. Could have shot a few of them but didn’t have the LEH needed to do so. Now we did, and it was late season. November first. It was time to climb for a long haired billy.
But on our way to the EK we stopped in Creston and I shot my first white tailed doe. It was 300 yards downhill in a big clear-cut and I gave my wife Cory first shot at it. After 4 shots she thought it was thorougly warned enough and gave the gun to me, where I put the cross hairs at the top of her back and tried my first attempt at a longer distance shot on an animal. Bang flop, good eats, nuff said.

We arrived to our goat hunting zone with about 8 inches of snow on the ground. To make things more treacherous, we were in search of what some would consider the most dangerous hunt of North America. Now I know why. These things are easy enough to spot high up in the peaks of the mountains, but getting there is sometimes all but impossible. That’s when I got introduced to a madman named Jay. Jay has around a dozen goats under his belt. He isn’t afraid to work for them either; this is why I call him a madman. These hills are crazy tough! By far these are one of the hardest animals to harvest. Just getting to shooting distance can be tough, and retrieval can be even harder. Jay was doing it with his back thrown out! Just incredible! The man could barely stand up after an all day hike and was now willing to hit the trails with us again the next day!

Taking us into a secret spot 5 kms off the dirt road, we wound our way through a creek bed and found some goats straight up above us, right where he thought they would be. Well Chris and I gave Jay first option on the billy we spotted because he had taken us in there. To my delight he declined wanting one of us to get our first goat. Chris insisted that we at least draw straws for the goat and include Jay. Sure enough, Jay wins. Yet again the man of class turns the goat down! Now it was up to Chris and I. Both of us were committed to staying till we each got a goat, so it didn’t really matter who won. Chris said we should decide up top, I said, I don’t want to carry this gun up the mountain, if I ain't shooting. So we Rock Paper Scissored for it and as luck would have it, I got to shoot.

Up and up and up and up and up we raced, legs burning, breath fleeting, and thirst overtook me. But I pressed on, knowing the billy would follow the group of goats heading over the hill. Jay who is in incredible shape for his age of over 40 seemingly ran up the hill. From 30 yards above he peeked over the cliff and then looked back at my tired self. With two fingers raised above his head he signaled the goat was just in front of him. I took the time to catch my breath and climb using my poles and all my energy up the last 30 impossible yards.

As I got there, they were gone. No goats to be seen. They were heading over the top of the mountain some 350 yards further up. Remember, we had just climbed about 1200 yards and the last 30 took almost 10 minutes it seemed. It was getting steep, really steep. The kind of steep you use hands to get up. Then Jay informed me the billy had just dropped out of sight into an avalanche chute and should pop out in a few minutes. So I ranged the peak above at 335 yards. Just then I caught sight of another goat heading over the ridge, was this my billy? I saw a dark behind and fear took over in my mind. The billy had got around me and left with the herd. I was unsure though and gave it 10 more minutes, which seemed like an eternity. Then, like magic he appeared from the chute! Get lined up from 20 yards over says Jay! I get set up and put the cross hairs on him only to see 2 branches making a perfect X over the vitals. Also, he’s quartering away at quite an angle.

I move over 20 more yards into the avalanche chute that the goat is in. Now there are no trees straight up between the goat and I. Only problem is that I am lying in a chute sliding, clinging to hold on to the ground! Toes sunk into the shale I raise the loaded rifle. Take a rest and realize that the steep angle is putting the eyepiece on the 300 Winchester magnum’s scope, almost right on my eyebrow. I know I’m going to get kicked so I hold the gun up off my shoulder and further from my eye. I’ll have to absorb the recoil with my hands and arms. The goat jumps up onto the ledge at 330 yards, perfectly broadside and stops when I hear Jay and Chris say they are going to have to shoot. But before they could finish their sentence the bullet is racing at 2950fps towards the goat. Thwap! The goat jumps, and I am sliding down the mountain. Letting go of my gun to cling to the mountain. The animal flips over backwards; smashing his horns and starts his 1500 yard roll to the bottom of the chute I am in. I am just wondering how I am going to stop it! Like a goal tender setting up for a penalty shot I dug my feet into the side of the mountain. Then after 200 yards of rolling the goat hits the one log lying in the chute and abruptly stops! Thank goodness I didn’t have to wrestle with a free tumbling goat!

From there we hiked up, took some pictures, then dragged it down in some snow using our belts to hold the beast from sliding too fast, then 300 yards lower we came to a couple of trees where we would skin it out for a rug and take the meat off. Jay and Chris go down the mountain to get the packs, however because the mountain had iron in it, our GPS locations were not accurate and with 2 GPS marks, they climbed up and down several times, unable to find the pack. Finally it was spotted with binoculars and is brought up to the goat. Talk about draining on them. Still no water up here and now incredibly thirsty from beverages of the dehydrating type consumed the evening previous. I am skinning out the goat and as I stood up I almost fainted and saw stars, I am thinking from the dehydration. The smell was okay, but was making me nauseous and I was forced to lie down and gather my head. That’s when Jay says, “Oh, I guess I lost my bullet holder from my belt up top where we took off our belts to drag the goat down.” Well, let me be the gentlemen as you guys have been up and down the mountain a few times now looking for the packs. I hoofed it up and found the pouch and headed back down to a few sips of water, Pepsi, and some antipasto Jay had in his pack.

We split up the meat and part way down with just a sack of rear quarters on my back swinging (my pack was at the bottom still) I managed to get off balance with only one pole in hand and fall down a few feet, twisting my knee real good. Quick feel over, everything is still working, but you have got to be careful. We were still a handful of klicks back in the bush.
At the bottom I drank 2 liters of water in 2 minutes. I have never been so thirsty in all my life. The whole way out I thought about how some guys like doing this! I couldn’t see why, it seemed stupid, hard, and dangerous. All for a little bit of “delicious” goat meat. I couldn’t even lift my arms back at camp to hug my wife. The next day I awoke dreaming of goats and getting to do it all over again next year. Too be honest I can’t wait!

 

[bigbore14]

Next it was off to Kamloops and Cache creek for 10 days to try my hand at mule deer. Maybe it was luck, maybe I just can’t figure out 4 points, but nothing was almost killed except my wife and me, while sliding backwards in our truck down an icy mountain road with a 28 foot trailer attached. Had to be one of the scariest moments I have ever been through. Absolutely terrifying. Got to see some 3 point bucks fight it out over does, and saw a legal 4 point one evening, but never pulled the trigger that whole hunt. Still had a great time, met some great people from HBC, you know who you are, and got to hunt with my good friends for a few days.

 

[bigbore14]

Finally though, the hunt I had been dreaming of since June LEH’s came out was finally here. Buffalo! And I was after a biggie! I wanted a big bull for the wall, but it didn’t have to be Boone and crocket, just a good representative of the species.

After talking to many people who have done the Sikanni River buffalo hunt, I decided to book with the outfitter. The cost was very reasonable in comparison to doing it yourself. After adding it up it was about $1000 more to use their equipment and guiding service and using my LEH. I weighed it out and said it was the smarter move as I have never hunted buffalo, didn’t know what to expect or where to find the big bulls, or how to judge them. Not to mention, finding someone willing to take off the time I needed to find a big bull could be tricky.

Before you put in for a tag be sure to know if you can even do the hunt. There are a lot of factors and costs to it. Just getting there from the lower mainland is an 18 hour drive. Not bad, but freezing rain and terrible snow storms put a lot of cars in the ditch in front of me. I arrived at the ranch to be escorted in by Mike and Dixie; they live in an area where residents can’t drive, so they pick you up from the gate. If you do it yourself, when leaving, you have to get your truck started out on the airstrip where you parked in minus 20 to 50 weather. It’s not easy to start a truck in that cold of temperature. Bring good jumpers, a charger, a generator, and a tiger torch. Staying at the ranch, Mike took care of all that for me. Some guys were out on the strip trying to start their trucks all day long!

Keep in mind. There is no quad access for most of the good hunting area. It is a park and they are not allowed in, as are trucks. You will need a snowmobile to access where the most of the buffalo are. That is if there is snow. It will be terribly cold. You will need specialized cold weather snow gear to do the late season hunt, expect -40 the entire time. Accommodations available to hunters are to camp; most hunters’ camp on the airstrip, but that is 13 kms from the good hunting area. Or at Mike and Dixie’s cabins. If you don’t stay at the lodge you likely won’t be able to hunt the ranch private property, where the buffalo are commonly found. The accommodations and 3 great meals provided per day at the ranch were spectacular! Spend the extra money to stay at the ranch. It is money well spent. You will probably even over hear people as to where they are finding the buffalo.

So, how did my hunt go? 3 hours into the hunt we stumble across a herd of 40 buffalo heading along the edge of a frozen lake. There are 3 good bulls in the herd. But not great. I decide then to hold out as it’s the first day and this is easy right? Wrong.

We hunted hard all week and never again saw bulls of that caliber. We got onto herds every day, but never found lone bull tracks to follow, and never spotted any lone bulls above us on the mountain. We walked for miles most days following tracks in 1 to 2 feet of snow getting right in amongst the herds in the pocket meadows, well within distance for a good archery shot. But just no big bulls. We sat at look outs, spent many dollars in 2 stroke gas covering ground looking for big bull tracks and at the end of the hunt I had to choose over a weak bull and a good eating mature cow. As Mike and Dixie wanted the population brought back under control and had stressed that to the residents who were staying there all week, I decided on the last day with a few hours of light left to take a cow.

We found a herd of 27, picked out the biggest and the stalk was on. We got set up, took some video and were going to shoot, but the spot had a lot of brush in the way so we belly crawled 100 yards over to another tree to get set up on. As I was getting ready I reached for my camera to get some video of the shot. But it was not in my pocket, it had fallen out on the belly crawl over, and as I thought of going back to get it, two guys who had shot their buffalo in the same field the day before showed up on sleds and drove slowly by the herd, getting them moving. It was now or never. I waited for the cow to get clear of the herd and pulled the trigger. The 200 gr TSX smacked the cow and she made it 20 paces with the stampeding herd before piling up.

Then you load it on your skimmer, behind the sled and drag it out to cape it and clean it. Apparently there is less fat on the December animals than the October, November animals. So the meat will be used well. I have lots of family and friends who enjoy game meat, so all of these animals will be used.

A trapper at the lodge took this fine wolverine, I had a tag also, and found tracks, but no wolverine was in them at the time.

Another interesting story that happened while we were there was this guy who we’ll call Ron showing up by himself, with a sled, a quad, and a toboggan for a skimmer. Yes a kid’s toboggan. These are 1000 pound animal’s people.

So we are up the mountain on our sleds glassing from between 2 peaks and nothing is found so we lift our sleds back around and head back down. Only to run into Ron. Well actually we ran into Ron the previous day in the back 40, quite a ways into the park riding his quad. Apparently he didn’t “KNOW” he wasn’t allowed to be there. Anyways, we run into Ron, now on his sled and he says he’s seen a big buffalo up the mountain a ways back. He isn’t going to go for it by himself, so we ask if he will show it to us. So were heading back down the mountain, Ron (Mr. Unprepared) has his large back pack slipped over the handle bars of his sled. Almost on queue the push button throttle gets stuck under the strap and the machine races off through the trees on a mountain side, no wider than 5 feet. I come around the corner to see Ron 15 feet on his back in front of the sled. The sled ski bracket was bent as was the shock. As for him, his thumb is broken, no movement, and his leg is smashed up from whacking the tree at such a speed. He tries to show us the mountain buffalo he saw, but it’s not there. However there are some elk there. He assured us there was a buffalo, and like a fool we went up the mountain circled the entire thing, wasted a day and didn’t find a single buffalo track. Now I have enjoyed my fair share of Buffalo wings, but that is the only way that thing got off the mountain without us finding a track. I think we were tricked into going after this flying type buffalo, to get us out of his secret spot, or something like that.

To make matter worse when I did leave I found him on 8km hill, still on his way to the hospital. Even though he left 3 days before me, he hadn’t even made it out to the highway with his stuff. He didn’t bring chains and slid backwards down the mountain road with his truck and trailer. He hiked out, got a lift to bucking horse and spent a day in a motel, the next day the highway was closed, so he couldn’t get a tow truck in. The next morning when the tow truck did come in, its chains snapped and they had to go get a second tow truck, which was where I found them. Crawling up the 8km hill 3 in a row. I joined on to the parade because I couldn’t pass them anyways, and rather than chaining up. At the top I got around them and carried on my way. Then in some heavy snow on the highway, I spun out and did a 180. I was facing north for a while but heading south. A scary feeling for sure. Only to find 1 ½ hours into my drive south I had a rad leak. I had just replaced it a couple months back, so I was wondering what the problem was. It was the water pump. Finding a repair shop in Fort St.John that isn’t busy that time of year is another thing all together. I went to 6 shops before one guy finally called a few places for me and found a place that could get me in. S&S automotive in Taylor put me on my way 5 hours later.

All in all, it was a great season. I learned a ton spending 101 days in the field during my 3rd year of hunting. Predators and geese are open, so there’s still time for something else too! I hate seeing the end of hunting season though. Can’t wait for next years’ hunting season to begin! There are still so many animals to check off of my list of BC big game! Thanks to all of you who helped me along the way. I really couldn’t have done it without your help! Cheers,

 

[Gunslingr]

Wow, You are incredibly fortunate. Nice looking animals all around. I would love to get on even one of those hunts in a season. Very nice pictures too you got a really pretty backyard to play in there.

 

[bigbore14]

just when things were starting to look like the hunting season was over, things started coming together again. I must however give all the thanks to a member on here for this hunt.

It started a while ago when a certain gentleman PM'd me and offered to take me out for a few days of cat hunting with his dogs. Well, as these offers don't come along too often, I didn't wait a minute to respond! He was very clear that he was not to take anything in exchange for this hunt. He wouldn't even let me pay my part of the gas bill! Houndsmen get many offers I would imagine, but are not allowed to take any compensation/benefit for that would be deemed illegal guiding.

I was stoked from the minute I received the PM. Could this be real? Was the guy joking? All I knew was that I was very excited! We would head out once the snow was right.

The first and second days of hunting were much the same. Cruising logging roads slowly in the truck with the dogs in the back in a dog box. We had no new snow, but we did find tracks and release dogs. However, the dogs always came back telling us the tracks were not fresh enough. We did have to chain up to get up some of the mountains. At one point we were close to slipping off an edge, but in the end, we made it out alive.

The third day was perfect for cat hunting. 1.5 inches of fresh snow. We got out to a late start and soon came across tracks. A large bobcat crossed, probably less than 2 hours before us.

We got out to see the track and found it to be a good sized track and a cat with a big stride. Probably a tomcat. Hopefully the dogs would find it.

We let the cat footed dogs go. Instantly they struck the scent and these dogs were fully open. I was not putting my hopes too high though.

5 minutes later we heard the chop. The short bark of a dog keeping an animal up a tree. "Its on! Let's go look at this cat!"

I'm thinking, no way, is this for real? Is this really going to happen? We GPS'd the truck and headed out towards the roaring dogs! We made some quick time with it getting louder and louder as we got closer.

The dogs were lit up like kids at Christmas under the tree. Knowing what gift was up there for them! Then we looked up, way up! It wasn't nearly as easy to spot as I had imagined. In fact you could barley see it with binoculars. I had no idea they would climb so high! When I spotted it though it was absolutely breath taking. I had never seen a wild cat and this thing looked amazing. Even though I could only make out the tail end of the cat. So colorful and spots that were just gorgeous. It looked to be a male to! And a big one at that!

I had told my hunting partner with the dogs that if there was any cat he wanted he could still shoot it. Just to be on the hunt was cool enough for me. He said if its a bobcat, its all yours.

So after some quick pictures of the hounds we got lined up for a shot. The gun of choice was a sako 22 bolt action, purchased from a member on this site. I was confident that the bullet would kill a thin skinned cat easily, especially with a well placed shot.

We tied the dogs up, and lined up the shot trying to avoid the many branches in the way. 40 yard shot and about a 6 inch window to shoot through. Bang! The cat jumped as I cycled the action to reload. Then...flop, flip, flop, flop, flip, turn, snap, snap, flop the cat went through the branches. The cat hit the ground and was dying but still twitching. Another quick follow up shot in the vitals, and we walked up to it and finished it off with one in the spine. Was this real? I didn't know what to think. Did I just get my first cat? A huge smile filled my face!

Soon the dogs were released from their posts and came running to see the animal they had pursued. Tags were cut and I went to have my first look at it. All I can say is the animal is incredible. I have never seen a more beautiful animal! Spots, and lines, and patches, and colors! And tufts of beard on each side of his face. As I had never seen one, I was then informed it was a big one! I had always imagined them not much bigger than a large house cat, but this thing was as big as a coyote! Weighed in at 27 pounds! The skull green scored 9 inches. To give you some reference, the SCI book minimum is 7 inches.

I was totally impressed to say the least! Skinned him out for a full mount and the meat is going to be put to use also, I'll try anything once, and the meat didnt smell weird at all.

It took me a full day to wipe the permagrin off my face! One of my coolest hunting experiences to date. Totally unique and totally awesome hunt! Thanks to the friend who took me out. If you want to say who you are, say away, and if you don't then keep it a secret. But he is a helluva good guy. Some may recognize him from the pictures.

So the other night a fat cat friend of mine was coming over, my wife was away for the night and I started thinking, when the boss is away, the cats will play. I didn't want her to "have kittens" for me cooking a cat in the house, and if I wasn't caught I wouldn't get the Cat o'nine tails! Joe had recently spent some time traveling around China, not pussyfooting around, he tried some unusual table fare. He's not a Fraidy cat, so when I suggested bobcat for dinner, he wasn't about to let sleeping cats lie.

They say there is more than one way to skin a cat. From the back down, socking out the legs, or like a bear rug. The latter was how I did mine.

We sweetened the kitty in a curry made from scratch, and let it simmer for a few hours. The meat was lean and very soft. I would say something close to pork in color and texture. The flavor was great! As you can tell from the grins on our faces in the photos, you would think this was a cheshire cat. In fact we both went back for seconds and we nearly finished the cat's ass curry. I had heard others rave about how cougar meat doesn't rub most folks fur the wrong way, and even though I haven't tried it yet, when I finally take one, I will eat it too!

The spring of this year went like this. Sorry for not posting this sooner in the year. I forgot about you guys over here.

 

[instanoodles]

wow thanks for that story, I wish that one time during my life I could go on a hunt like that.

 

[Icon]

Thanks so much for sharing! Great pics!

 

[OnnO]

WoW! Nothing but WoW!!

Thankz for yhe great pix and stories!

 

[ibloom]

I am SOOOOOO jealous!!!! Great stories, and fantastic pictures! What a season! Congrats

 

[klien]

you are one lucky guy.

 

[seaotter]

Holy phuck!! What a season. Thanks for sharing the great stories. This is exactly what hunting is all about. Rubbing it in to us guys who couldn't get out last year.

 

[USP]

This thread delivers. Nice pics.

 

[Polar Man]

That was incredible! The story of your goat shot had me on the edge of my seat.
And your wife is a babe, btw. What was the tastiest animal you harvested? You had quite a range to taste test there.

 

[Beer_drinker]

There have been animals living in these hills for thousands of years, and it’s our job to put an end to that!

lmao..


I'm not gona lie, I envy you so much.

 

[Oneshot Stephenson]

Great story, great pictures, great wife!

 

[MiG25]

that's awesome!

 

[bigbore14]

What was the tastiest animal you harvested? You had quite a range to taste test there.

If I had to harvest 1 animal for meat only each year it would be a 6 year old cow bison. Lots of meat, tender steaks, very healthy to eat.

Everything eles when prepared well, and cared for in the field, has been a close second. Even the bobcat and coyote!

Although of all the animals I have hunted, the only ones I didnt like were mule deer bucks, consistantly gamey, even as jerky or sausage. Yuck. However have enjoyed mulie does.