He started moving away from me, so I got above him and stalked him while he fed. I rounded a corner and suddenly there he was: 75 yards away and staring right at me. The problem was, all I could see was his face as the rest of his body was behind a rock. I was going to have his head mounted and the last thing I wanted to do was shoot him in the face. So I aimed at a small spot below his chin and squeezed the trigger. My bullet ricocheted off of the rock, and my billy scrambled straight up some 1000 feet to the peak above us in less than two minutes.
While I hiked back to camp, I could see him on the ridgeline above watching me all the time. I decided that I would have to go after him in the morning because there wasn’t enough daylight to continue. I ate a quick dinner and then had another uneasy night sleeping. When I did sleep, I dreamed of the big one that got away.
That next morning I had a quick breakfast while I watched the goat above. He was still in the same spot on the ridge. While I was getting ready, he slipped into a long vertical crack and was gone. It occurred to me that to go where he had just gone would require very difficult climbing, and I had a backpack and a rifle to deal with. I had to try, though, so I climbed a saddle above the lake and my fears were confirmed. The ridgeline between me and the goat was very narrow and jagged, and virtually impossible to walk on. Any slip or mistake would result in a sure death from a long fall.
As I sat there pondering what to do, I gazed to the north and saw a white spot sitting against a black rock almost a mile away. My binoculars told me that it was a goat, and because of the precarious hike to my first goat, I decided very quickly to go after this one. I do remember seeing the horns from a great distance, so I figured this was a good goat to investigate. I scrambled down a long, steep, talus slope with loose rocks, and worked my way to a point about 300 yards from the goat. I steadied my rifle over a low limb on a tree and fired. The goat stood up and I fired again. This time I saw him hump up and disappear out of sight.
I raced over to the spot and looked down to see him standing below. He tried to run again, but my last shot brought him down for good. My once in a lifetime tag was filled on the second day of my hunt. I crawled down to him and rolled him onto his back. That’s when I realized he was a male, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t even considered whether he was a male or female when I shot. It was an either sex hunt so I could have shot a nanny, but I wanted a large billy instead. He wasn’t quite as large as the other goat, but I had no regrets about the one I shot.
Now I was all alone on top of the world some 8 miles from my truck. I needed Herb, but I just relied on what he had taught me. So I gutted him, caped him, boned out the meat, and got ready to hike out. I put the meat in those plastic bags you get at the store, and I put his head and cape in a deer bag. The goat was the smelliest animal I had ever gutted, and I really reeked of his scent. I tied everything to my backpack frame and set out. My backpack probably weighed a 100 pounds and I struggled along with it.
I couldn’t go back the way I came because of the steep climb back up the loose rock. I knew I could go cross country to Gum Saddle and pick up the Carbonate trail, which goes to Paradise Flat. I would leave my goat there and walk back to Crystal Lake to get my other backpack and my camping gear. It was going to be a long, tiring day.
On the way, the meat was tearing through the plastic bags, so I had to stop. I took my T-shirt off and tied the neck and arms up and put the meat in there. As I started walking again, I hadn’t gone more than 30 yards when I ran into a bear. Instead of running from me, he sat back on his haunches and began smelling me. That’s when I realized I had forgotten my gun at the stop I made. To this day, I still wonder how far I would have gone without my gun if I hadn’t encountered that bear. I was walking cross country, so if I had gone a long way, it would have been very difficult to find.
I walked backwards very slowly while watching the bear, retrieved my gun, and started walking away from him. I heard a crack behind me and discovered the bear was following me! I loaded my gun as I walked and thought about shooting him if he messed with me. I was going downhill and I was taking strides as long as I possibly could. He continued to follow me for a while but soon he was gone, and I eventually made it to Paradise Flat where I put the goat in the shade by the creek.
Now I had a 2 mile hike back up 1500 feet to my camp. Penny and a teaching friend had driven an ATV into Paradise Flat to help me, and they had hiked up to the lake that day. It is a very steep climb with no trail, and I really struggled to get there. When I arrived I was exhausted and I collapsed next to a tree by my backpack. Penny came running up to me and asked where my gun was. I told her, “I killed a goat and we have to leave NOW!” Before we left, she handed me a beer that I drank in about 20 seconds. It may have been my most memorable beer of all time!
It was about 6 miles back to the rig, and I can remember thinking I could not make it. Never in my life have I felt such fatigue. I literally stared down at my feet and thought left, right, left, right. My friend had taken my goat on his ATV, but I still had my other backpack on. What seemed like an eternity finally came to a merciful end, and I was back in my truck headed to Council for two things. I needed to drop off my goat at my taxidermist, Jody Paradis, and then I went to the Ace Saloon for some much needed beer. I stunk so much that, on the way, Penny got out of my truck and rode with my friend.
I still remember Herb laughing his head off the next morning when I could barely get out of bed to the breakfast table. I walked like a 90 year old man to the table much to his amusement. I had never worked so hard in one day in my life, and I figured I had walked 20 miles that day. But I also remember this: it was one of the greatest achievements of my life and I felt like, for the first time, I was a true hunter. I had done what I thought I couldn’t do, and I had the greatest father-in-law one can have to thank for it. He had taught me well and to this day, I dedicate each hunting season to him. And I know that when I screw up (like leaving my gun behind) he is looking down from above laughing his fool head off.
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