Mt. St. Helens Goat

[CNELK]

A few weeks before packing in for my hunt, I had hurt my lower back, which stems from an old injury. It plagues me with excruciating pain and limits my mobility. Leading up to my hunt, many people prayed for me that my back would heal in time. I will never underestimate the power of prayer and faith because my back slowly improved. I was so thankful for the slight improvement because I had put in so much effort and preparation for this moment, not to mention I had friends who had committed time off work to help and a camera guy coming in from another state. My brother-in-law offered to pack in a day earlier, to get some of my dad's stuff in, get our camp set, and pack in some extra water. I have more to mention about the water later in my story. Not feeling 100% with my back, I called my brother and asked if he would be willing to help carry half of my stuff in for me, and I was delighted when he didn't hesitate with “I got you brother”.



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[HntnFsh]

Maybe your brother could finish the story for you too!

[CNELK]

Maybe your brother could finish the story for you too!

Bear with me, I apologize


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[CNELK]

Dad and I spent the first few days in camp before the other guys came in on Tuesday. Unfortunately, on Monday morning, my target goat, William 1, hiked across a nasty canyon and into an area I couldn't access safely. Although the goats on that side of the canyon were in shooting distance, they might as well have been on the moon. I would spend the next day and a half wondering if William 1 would spend his time on the other side of the canyon or find his way back. In the meantime, I had plenty of options and other great-looking goats to keep track of.




I briefly mentioned that we had enough water in camp to last a few days. I had said a few prayers leading up to my hunt that rain would come and replenish our water, but we still decided to conserve what we had. Our water source closest to camp had gone dry about a month before the season opened, which made me concerned, knowing our only water source was a 4-mile round trip from camp. Not only did Jesus answer my prayers, but he gave us an abundance of water in the form of heavy rain.

The heavy rain started on Tuesday, later in the day, around 4 p.m. One of my friends had made it into camp earlier that morning when the weather was still decent. My two other friends started their trek right when the rain started. By the time they made it to camp by 6 p.m., the rain was a complete downpour, and sustained winds of 18 to 20 mph with gusts of 25-28 mph. We quickly helped them settle in, set up their tent, and had some dry firewood so they could get their stove warm and dry off as best as possible. It was getting pretty late in the evening, and well after dark, I still hadn't seen or heard from our camera guy. The last time I got a text message from him was sometime after noon; his plane had just landed at PDX. To give you all a little more of a back story, I had only talked to Jon a few times over the phone and had given him a couple of waypoints so he had an idea of where to park and where our camp was. Other than that, he was going into an area 6 miles in, entirely in the dark, in the worst weather imaginable, in an area he had never been in before, looking for a group of guys he had never met, and not to mention his pack was stuffed with tons of gear for filming, making his pack close to 75 + lbs. It was a quick introduction from all of us, and we all helped Jon get settled in and out of the pouring rain. It would be a long, miserable night for all of us, but I was anxiously waiting for the morning, which was opening day.


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[CNELK]

With a long sleepless night, due to the relentless rain and wind that hammered our tents all night, the morning finally came. The dream I had for 26 years was finally upon me, opening morning with a goat tag in my pocket, in a location I had spent studying and observing these magnificent animals for the last couple of months, was here! When I finally got together and dressed, I took my first steps outside in the hammering rain and wind. It was not a shock when I saw that our visibility due to low cloud cover or fog had us socked in and zero visibility. We promptly hung up two tarps to shield us from the rain, and one of my friends began to build a fire. Determined, he finally got a decent fire going after a few hours. I have to say, having those traps and that fire keeps us in the game all day. With sparse periods of visibility, which gave us a glimmer of hope, we would do our best to weather out this storm. On a positive note, we replenished all our water and then some.

Sticking it out all day paid off. As the day was ending, the storm started to lighten up. The rain was coming and going in brief showers rather than heavy rain, and the cloud cover was opening up with more extended periods of visibility. Much to my surprise, we saw William 1 walking our way from the other side of the canyon, and within a few minutes, he was outside again, about 400 yards away, staring us down! I was not prepared for this at all. I didn't verify it was him until he was on our side, and second, I didn't have my muzzleloader with me all day because of the rain. I had left it behind in my tent to keep it dry. I also figured if the clouds did lift, I would have plenty of time to get my stuff to make a stock on a bedded goat. But that is not what ended up happening. We promptly devised a plan, returned to the tent, got my muzzleloader, loaded it, and went for a stalk on William 1 behind camp, which worked out perfectly because we had plenty of tree cover to help conceal our movement. On our stalk in, I saw him in the same spot I had last seen him. He was about 150-170 yards away, and I set up in the prone position, waiting for him to work his way to his feeding area. After a few minutes of waiting and having a decent crosswind, my mind told me that you have to move up and make a move on him. We got up to close in on him, and he was gone! That was when my worst-case scenario set in; he was working his way back to no man's land but still in a killable spot. I hastily set up in the prone position again, on the canyon's rim as my buddy gave me a range of 200 yards, then 209, 212, 220, and 230. William 1 was gone once again, and no shots were fired.


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[hunterednate]

Loving this. The weather up there is no joke!

[Pathfinder101]

Reading this thread reminds me of waiting for the final season of Yellowstone to come out... 

[builtfordtough]

Ill check back in in a few weeks

[CNELK]

Feeling a little defeated after my botched attempt on William 1, I spent the rest of that evening reflecting on my decision to make a push after him and not just wait another day. But that is just how it goes with hunting sometimes. I definitely learned from that experience and need to be more patient. God led me to this opportunity; he will definitely see me through it.

The next morning, I felt more at peace with what had played out the evening before. That morning was way better than the day before as far as the weather was concerned; there was no rain or bad fog. We decided to divide up and have a guy go down the trail to see if he could turn up a goat I had seen before, but never got a good look at. For the rest of us, we would return to our glassing spot to watch the goats across the canyon in no man's land. After a short period of time, my buddy would return and tell us he saw a few Billys and possibly a good-looking William. The goat in question was the goat I had seen before, but my buddy couldn't tell how good he looked. We all gathered up our spotting scopes and hiked the trail out to see if I could determine if this goat was worth making a play on. But when I got to the spot where we could see the goats, I didn't see the goat my buddy saw just a few minutes before. But I was interested in exploring more areas, so we returned to camp and gathered everything we needed to trek out and away from camp for the day. But this time I would bring my rifle and leave my muzzleloader behind.

On this day, it was also the last day one of my buddies could stay and had to head back down the mountain that afternoon, and the following day would have been my dad's last day to be up on the mountain as well. Not that I felt any pressure to tag a goat that day, but God willing and given the opportunity, I was praying I could. These guys sacrificed being away from their families and using vacation time to be with me on this hunt. Not to mention, they were a massive support for me post-diagnosis. It would mean the world to me to share my once-in-a-lifetime moment with them all present, and tag a William.

As we hiked down the trail, we were all in the same spot moments before we decided to hike back to camp to gather our things. That's when I spotted the goat my buddy had seen earlier. He had met up with another smaller goat as they walked up the mountain to their beds. From a quick glance at a distance, he looked to check most of the boxes I was looking for in what I would call a William. Mature face with a Roman nose, large body, great mass at the base of the horns that carried up, and a decent winter coat. He was well worth the effort to close the distance to get a better look at him. As we hiked the trail out and found a drainage to make our ascent up the mountain, we closed the distance to 1200 yards, and I found both goats bedded. Although we could cut off quite a bit of distance, he never would move his head enough for me to get a good judge of the length of his horns. Regardless, he got me excited at this point, and I was committed to getting in close and seeing if I could make it work this time.

We worked our way out of sight from the goats and sat down for a coffee break, a snack, and a few laughs. Taking the time to slow down rather than push myself to make things happen helped calm my nerves before we stalked in closer. Being entirely out of view from the goats, I had made several attempts at a shooting spot. Once I found the perfect place, I set myself up in a comfortable prone position, had my ranges set, and waited for them to stand up. I don't remember the exact time we waited, but it was a few hours, and I was beginning to doubt that they were still there. They were just on the other side of the ridge, out of view, and could have gotten up and walked down and out of view from us. I was getting cold after lying on the ground and getting rained on briefly, and in the wind, I had to get up. No sooner than I get up and away from my rifle, the guys start quietly yelling at me, GOAT! When I turned around, I saw a neck and a head of the small billy looking over the ridge right at us, and as quickly as he appeared, he vanished out of sight. I quickly got behind my rifle, and the small billy did the same peek-a-boo look over the ridge again. For whatever reason, I don't know because our wind was good, but they had us pegged, and they were heading out! One of my buddies said they are heading out to the left, and I found them in the scope. It was evident that William was in the front and the Billy was in the back following, but I still asked, and they all quickly replied yes, and with a range, which I believe was 400 yards. I got my composure and slowly squeezed the trigger, and as fast as the bullet left my rifle, the goat hit the ground hard! As exciting as it was to see him hit the ground, that feeling quickly left, like a scene from a Transformers movie. The goat was back on his feet and heading up the mountain as if he hadn't been hit at all. After a couple more quick follow-up shots, he was down!


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[CNELK]

He was hardly done kicking and the ravens were right on him!


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[CNELK]

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[CNELK]

Our reward back in camp


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[CNELK]

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[CNELK]

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[CNELK]

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