What happened on the Goat hunt that nearly took your life? That's a story I would like to hear.
Wrong place for this so I'll try to make it short.
Since my motorbike accident my physical conditioning on a good day is adequate at best. On this trip I was still recovering from hernia surgery so I was even worse than my average. But, I'd waited two years and my guide friend had been watching a B&C goat he wanted me to take so I figured I'd just dig deep and do what I could.
After the second day of the trip I came down with a lung infection and spent the next three days cooped up at the main lodge. Each day my guide buddy would go out and scout and keep track of my big billy. On the sixth day he came back to the lodge early and said, "He's right where we have been wanting him to be. Do you feel up to giving it a try?" My thoughts were that I really did not want to as I still felt like hell and was coughing every time I stepped out in the -18 Celsius cold. But, damn it! I've waited all this time, the billy is huge and I haven't been shooting the bow this well in years. Buck up! Go slow and I'll be fine.
Well, that decision was made at the main lodge at 4,000'. We drove the truck down stream for about five miles to the spot we could glass the big boy. As I made my waypoint on the GPS I noticed we were now at 3,585' elevation and it had warmed up to a nice -14C! As a crow flies the group of three billies and five nannies was about two miles away. Problem was they were just above the 7,000' mark in elevation. My guide could make it there in about 1.5 to 2 hours. We figured it would take us about twice that long with as slow as I was going to be going.
The day before I had arrived my guide buddy broke his pack. Lucky for him I always come over prepared and I had two fully packed and ready to go. This would prove to be the single best stroke of luck we could have imagined. Not only did I have a second emergency survival kit, saw and food, but it also had my largest water bottle. Especially since to save weight I was only filling mine up half way.
First third went pretty good. Nice trails, gradual climb and solid footing. The second two thirds were near vertical. The rocks were OK, but anytime you hit soft ground you were taking 1/2 step backward with every step forward. It was rough going and I was a mess. Climb for ten minutes then cough and puke for five minutes. Climb ten minutes, rinse and repeat.
I knew I was loosing fluids faster than I was taking them in, but we just had to conserve as there is no water on this rock. Even the occasional little dusting of snow on the ground had almost no water in it. In one dark corner I was able to find a large block of powdered snow. We broke out the Jet-Boil and melted all of it and ended up with about 1/3 cup of drinkable water. That's a plus, but a huge amount of time wasted.
When we finally hit the bench about 500 yards parallel with the goats we were beginning to loose light fast. What should have taken less than four hours had taken over six. The stalk from this point forward should be a piece of cake now, but we had to hurry to beat the darkness.
After about 100 yards of walking at a fast pace on what was almost completely flat ground my legs disappeared and my face hit the ground. With a lot of work I could get back on my feet, but with just a few more steps the ground would come up and hit me again, and again, and again.
Of all those times in my life when I thought I had hit the wall...I was Oh, so damn wrong. I could not even function enough to get a headlamp on my head. I knew my lungs were screaming for me to cough and yet all the energy I could muster was an aggressive gurgle.
Joe managed to get my Kelvin vest on me along with my rain jacket and wrapped up in a survival blanket. I downed the last 8 to 10 ounces of water in my pack plus two half frozen Powergel pouches. Then he went to work building a shelter under two fallen trees complete with a dug out sleeping nest and a fireplace. I was able to help hang two cut up emergency ponchos as a wind break and explain the use of a second emergency blanket at a heat reflector. From then on I do not remember much at all until the next morning.
Wish I had gotten a better picture of the fireplace Joe built. It was a work of art and performed amazingly well. The picture is taken from my sleepers nest. The big rock next to my binoculars is one of four Joe used to rotate heat under my chest and feet. One under my feet and one up against my chest. As those would cool he'd be heating the other two for the swap out. He did this all night long as well as keeping me drinking water at every exchange, fetching & cutting firewood until it was fully light the next morning.
Had it not been for Joe, the two survival kits, the extra saw as one broke halfway through the night, the extra water and protein I'd probably never made it through the night. I do not know how cold it got that night, but it wasn't no balmy -14C I can tell you that. What took over six hours the day before took less than an hour to get down. We hit a soft avalanche chute, found a couple pieces of shale about the size of a snow board and slid down the chute sitting on them. Once at the base of the slide we hoped on a moose trail and back to the truck. No goat, no shot, still sick as heck, but alive..Thanks to Joe.
Sorry, that wasn't too much of a short version, was it?
First picture of Joe at about the 5,500' mark.
Second is the view just above the 6,000' mark.