150fighter
Active Member
- Messages
- 160
Haven't posted here in a long time, haven't been able to go out hunting much now that I'm leaving away from home going to school. Living on residence doesn't really allow you having a gun in your place... the school kind of frowns upon that for some strange reason..
I went back home this past week because we had a few days off and I wanted to get in a deer hunt or two. Wednesday rolls around, my dad and I go out looking for deer. Nothing was moving, only saw 5 whitey does in the morning so we decided to go to the zone where we both had mountain goat draws. A few years previous I shot a 9 3/4 inch nanny in the same zone, so we knew exactly where to look for the goats. We got to the glassing zone and immediately spotted 2 groups of goats. One group had 2 really big, yellow billies in it and the other group had one big billy and a smaller guy. We decided to go after either group the next day.
Thursday morning we wake up at 5 and are at the trailhead at 7. We start hiking in knee deep snow down to a river that we have to cross.
It is about 7:45 by the time we cross the river. We start the 3 km hike to where we saw the first group of goats. At 10:45 we spot a different group of goats perched on a large cliff. We set up the spotting scope and discover that there is only nannies, kids, and small billies in this group. Dang.
We keep hiking up, and up.... and up. By noon we are finally able to glass the spot where the 2 groups of goats would be. I spotted a lone yellow billy walking into the trees at the one cliff band where the 2 big billies were seen the previous day. It is still at least 1000 feet in elevation higher than us, and by this time we are getting pretty tired, we have yet to take a break. Yet, we keep going.
Steep, with sometimes waist deep snow.
Finally, by 2pm we reach the cliff where the goat was... and of course, he was gone. My dad and I are both pretty beat, so we decide to take a break and do some glassing. We both agree that by 3pm we will start heading down.
3pm rolls around, and with a sigh of disappointment we start heading down the draw towards the truck. I had pretty much given up hope of seeing any more goats, and was focused on getting down the mountain as quick as I could. As a result, I was about 200 feet away from my dad when I noticed a whole bunch of fresh goat tracks right by the lowest cliff band on the mountain. I didn't really give it much of a thought, until I walked past a tree, and saw a goat staring at me.... 50 yards away.
I quickly back up, out of sight of the goat and struggle to get my gun off my pack. I check the scope... completely iced over, so I jab at it with my thumb until I can see through it. I check the barrel... also iced over, so I grab a stick and "de-ice" it as best as I could.
I creep forward, pulling my binos up and discover that this was a good sized billy. There was also 2 nannies, a kid, and a small billy in this group. The nanny and kid started to get nervous and moved out of the shooting lane of the billy. BOOM!! The ice in my barrel caused the bullet to stray off path and hit the billy far back. BOOM!! The goat started to slowly run.. obviously hurt. BOOM!! Finally the billy went down, 50 yards from me.
I shot the goat at 4pm, got everything packed up by 5pm, and didnt get back to the truck until 8:30, both my dad and I had mild cases of hypothermia because we walked right through the river instead of hiking the 3km back to the log crossing.
The goats horns were 9.5 inches long, with 5 inch bases. He was 10.5 years old, and all his teeth were loose. The hunt took place near Cranbrook BC, Canada
Okay, I should get back to homework...
I went back home this past week because we had a few days off and I wanted to get in a deer hunt or two. Wednesday rolls around, my dad and I go out looking for deer. Nothing was moving, only saw 5 whitey does in the morning so we decided to go to the zone where we both had mountain goat draws. A few years previous I shot a 9 3/4 inch nanny in the same zone, so we knew exactly where to look for the goats. We got to the glassing zone and immediately spotted 2 groups of goats. One group had 2 really big, yellow billies in it and the other group had one big billy and a smaller guy. We decided to go after either group the next day.
Thursday morning we wake up at 5 and are at the trailhead at 7. We start hiking in knee deep snow down to a river that we have to cross.
It is about 7:45 by the time we cross the river. We start the 3 km hike to where we saw the first group of goats. At 10:45 we spot a different group of goats perched on a large cliff. We set up the spotting scope and discover that there is only nannies, kids, and small billies in this group. Dang.
We keep hiking up, and up.... and up. By noon we are finally able to glass the spot where the 2 groups of goats would be. I spotted a lone yellow billy walking into the trees at the one cliff band where the 2 big billies were seen the previous day. It is still at least 1000 feet in elevation higher than us, and by this time we are getting pretty tired, we have yet to take a break. Yet, we keep going.
Steep, with sometimes waist deep snow.
Finally, by 2pm we reach the cliff where the goat was... and of course, he was gone. My dad and I are both pretty beat, so we decide to take a break and do some glassing. We both agree that by 3pm we will start heading down.
3pm rolls around, and with a sigh of disappointment we start heading down the draw towards the truck. I had pretty much given up hope of seeing any more goats, and was focused on getting down the mountain as quick as I could. As a result, I was about 200 feet away from my dad when I noticed a whole bunch of fresh goat tracks right by the lowest cliff band on the mountain. I didn't really give it much of a thought, until I walked past a tree, and saw a goat staring at me.... 50 yards away.
I quickly back up, out of sight of the goat and struggle to get my gun off my pack. I check the scope... completely iced over, so I jab at it with my thumb until I can see through it. I check the barrel... also iced over, so I grab a stick and "de-ice" it as best as I could.
I creep forward, pulling my binos up and discover that this was a good sized billy. There was also 2 nannies, a kid, and a small billy in this group. The nanny and kid started to get nervous and moved out of the shooting lane of the billy. BOOM!! The ice in my barrel caused the bullet to stray off path and hit the billy far back. BOOM!! The goat started to slowly run.. obviously hurt. BOOM!! Finally the billy went down, 50 yards from me.
I shot the goat at 4pm, got everything packed up by 5pm, and didnt get back to the truck until 8:30, both my dad and I had mild cases of hypothermia because we walked right through the river instead of hiking the 3km back to the log crossing.
The goats horns were 9.5 inches long, with 5 inch bases. He was 10.5 years old, and all his teeth were loose. The hunt took place near Cranbrook BC, Canada
Okay, I should get back to homework...
