Mountain goat hunt

Now the hard work begins! 

"Blankety-blank", *&^$@# - god damn, friggin' root!!!!

I was pissed.

I was mad at the root that someone had cut off at calf-height...that hit me at calf height! Damn. Then, a few steps later,  I slipped on muck-covered rock as I took a measured step several feet down. More swear words. "I'm not swearing at you," I threw out apologetically to my three companions. "It's these (blankety blank)... roots and rocks and mud and...)!"

I was at my limit. After hours of trudging slowing down a ridgeline, then through steep, brush-laden slopes, then through muskegs, my last slip put my rear end (conveniently) on another root, so I sat for a few seconds before steadying myself, then hefting myself up again to move forward. With 60 to 70 pounds on my back, I was at a half-stoop and each foot and hand placement was crucial to keep me from buckling or pitching forward down the trail. I think I had a kind of a loose mantra going through my head: " Right foot down, plant hiking pole in front and below, swivel left hip and left foot down, down...okay, foot planted...ooooh, crud..." (as the weight of my pack tipped me too far to the left and I almost went crashing into the brush.) I pushed myself back up to my half-crouch; my pack swung back somewhat to a center point, and I moved on.

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Early that October morning, headlamp on, I'd headed up a brushed trail, no inkling that it would be more than 15 hours later before I was back at my car - completely spent, but with a mountain goat! and its hide! And perhaps, most important, no injuries to either me or my 3 amazing companions. 

For the second time in 3 years, I'd drawn a tag for one of two goat-hunting areas accessible off our local road system. These mountain goats had proliferated after a transplant in the late '80s, and Alaska Department of Fish and Game had started a permit hunt for the ungulate about 10 years ago. The specific area* I could hunt was the smallest of the draw areas both in size and the number of available tags of which there were only 4. With some 400 applications submitted, I was extremely lucky to have been drawn (and for the second time!)  Although the hunt opened in early August, I'd  decided to wait until at least October, even though the weather would be more iffy then, to see if I could get a billy with a nice wintry hide. (I didn't keep the hide on my first mountain goat, which I shot in early September). So, when good weather was forecast one weekend in early October, the hunt was on. The two men on this hunt had also been with me on my first goat hunt (referring to them by their initials in this blog) (I valued, and needed, their hunting expertise, as well as their ability to help pack out a goat if I was successful.)  The other woman was a hiking friend who was a not a hunter, but who had asked to come along, her interest piqued after hearing us talk about the pending hunt. 

Due to the area's accessibility from town, mine was a tame hunt compared to much of the terrain that other Alaska mountain goat hunts in Alaska can occur in. The mountain we climbed up was less than 3,000 feet, and I had the advantage of being able to hunt and get back home all in one day. (Albeit a long day as it turned out.)  Compare this to the typical mountain goat hunts in Southeast where hunters fly into a high lake and set up a base camp, and hike into terrain much steeper than I had to deal with.  Hunters can be weathered in for days in a wet, cold tent and/or can expect to hunt in fog, driving rain or snow.

It was a several hours-long hike through muskeg, brush and timber, before the terrain opened up a bit leading to the ridgeline at the top. After we got higher and closer to the ridgeline, we'd had glimpses of goats on the surrounding hillsides a couple miles away.  If we didn't encounter any close goats before topping the ridge, we figured we'd spy some below us on the opposite side of the ridge. 

*There is a 3rd draw area, but it is not accessible by the road system on Revillagigedo - only by boat and/or plane.

As we climbed up through rock and brush toward the ridgeline, we spied two good-sized goats (perhaps billies) in an open bowl to our right (northeast). We dropped low and snuck closer for a better look, using some brushy knobs as cover. Both goats, feeding a bit apart from each other, were of impressive size, but we’d run out of cover.  We opted to  continue climbing to the top of the ridge, follow it along its northeast line and find a point to get down above the goats and hope the breeze wouldn’t blow our scent to them.

As we hit the top of the ridge, we first decided to check out the opposite side of the ridgeline, away from the goats we’d spotted and towards Deer Mountain. Geez, more goats down below us! Almost as soon as we saw them, they were off - throwing up dust and dirt as they careened downhill and into tree line hundreds of feet below.  Darn. But, just minutes later, K. gestured to A. and I. There, in the brush in the opposite direction was another goat, looking directly at us. A. and I started quietly making our way towards the spot, with our two other companions holding back. I wasn't surprised when we reached the brush where it'd been to find the goat nowhere in sight. As I'd read and witnessed, mountain goats, well aware they'd been spotted, will often look (to our eyes) as unconcerned, while they slowly stroll away.  Then, with some cover between the goat and human, the ungulate takes off like a blur through brush, down cliffs and out of sight, an apparition.

Could it be? Yes, there was yet another goat even farther below on this southwest ridge.  A. asked if I wanted to go for it or not, cautioning that he’d pulled deer off the same slope below us and that it was no picnic bringing the weight back up.  We decided to go for it; me thinking that there wasn't much of a chance of packing a goat back up. It would also be long gone by the time we got down to it.   

Achilles Mountain. Our hike up was on opposite side.

Photo of the page from 2014-2015 Alaska state hunting regulations showing my 2013 goat.  

Part II - Goat hunt continued

We dropped our packs and started down the ridgeline, just carrying our rifles, using as much brush for cover as we could and making our way to where we thought the goat had been. There was a small gully now to our right. A rocky area and brush sat on top of the gully. A. figured if I slunk quietly through the gully, then up to the brush, the goat would be within feet on the other side. I snuck to the spot as quietly as a could, expecting at any moment to spy the goat. No goat! I shook my head at Al and shrugged my shoulders. Then, I crept a bit further into the trees, looked below where we thought the goat would be...and saw, not one goat but 3 goats! About 40 yards away, lay 3 goats on the rocks. I gestured for A. to join me.  The goats were not yet aware of us - the brush and trees were our cover, the wind was not carrying our scent yet.  The two further goats looked to be nannies, but the horns on the closest goat indicated it was a billy. A. and I got to that conclusion with a few words whispered between us.  He asked if I wanted to try for it. "Yes," I whispered excitedly. "Okay, then," he pointed to a slim tree just a few steps in front of me that I could brace against. "As soon as you step forward, you'll be seen - so be ready to shoot." 

That was exactly what happened. I stepped forward, and braced against the tree, raised the rifle, the billy looked directly at me, stood up, I took a breath and fired.  The billy went down with out ever taking a step; the other goats stood up too, seeming confused, then took off out of sight.