stayzeroed
FNG
What started out as a trip planned around picking up some stone for our fireplace we recently built, turned into a Carpe Diem, #F-it, let’s bear hunt in Montana. This is my story of another adventure to the mountain ranges of Montana.
After a few phone calls to my friends who live in Montana, it was settled. I would fly in, and we would go on a pack-in bear hunt. At first it was slated for April, then the snow kept falling and the temperatures stayed low. I’m not a fair-weather hunter by any means, but a week of hunting in the mountains of Montana with 3 feet of snow, post holing every step did not sound very appealing, May it was.
A common theme in the trip planning was, “’forget’ money”. New gear was arriving almost daily for a few weeks. Package delivery services were surely sick of my address. As I have come to find, there is gear that works, then there is gear that works well. Crispi boots saved my feet, and an Exo Mountain Gear pack saved my back and knees, and First Lite came through as normal with their wool layers. I used about everything, short of a few cold weather pieces since the weather was amazing. Highs of 80 and lows in the mid-40s along with a few rain showers and thunder clouds, which are really interesting when you are nearly standing inside them.
Day 1 was the ruck up the mountain and a real butt kicker for me; jet lag, a late night, a few beverages of choice, catching up, telling stories, and an early morning. There is Iowa in-shape and Montana in-shape. I found out I am probably somewhere in the middle, and that was ‘just’ good enough. I had completed some rucking challenges during my pre-hunt workup, and I firmly believe it paid dividends. However, I was nowhere near keeping up with my friends who seemed to have morphed into mountain goats. Flat landers cannot fully prepare for going up the mountains of the west. I could taste the iron from my lungs that were working in over-drive.
Our camp brought us in 3 and a 1/2 miles from the trailhead, we started at 5,550’ and our initial ascent brought us to 7,058’ before nestling our camp in a thicket of Aspen trees that were clearly well liked by Elk. There was not a single untouched tree or branch in the lot that did not have rub marks.
Day 1 came to an end after a young bull elk decided to investigate my friend Nash and I at 75 yards! A chip shot for the Hornady 7PRC cartridge. That bull was not the only elk though, we were nearly surrounded by a herd. Evidently, this was their territory, and they wanted to know what was going on. Camp was set, food was cooked, the fire was stoked, and the sleeping bags were fluffed.
Day 2’s morning was quite the philharmonic event. Elk bugles, cow calls, and even a few Elk barks (I had no idea they bark until then) all were sounded in the valley. The elk bugle worked like a charm, nearly seconds later a cow ran by the tent. So close in fact, that we could hear the impact of the hooves crunching the tall grass only a few yards away from our tent.
Our hike to a vantage point started out as a nice nature walk until Alex and Nash decided to hit the incline. It surely was not as bad as I felt at the time, but my lungs were in overdrive once again. Almost like the night before, we found ourselves surrounded by elk. A fall hunter’s dream, one might say. We established a hasty hide within some exposed rock face in a rolling mountain side. Alex’s eagle eyes worked their magic and within the hour he had spotted a wolf enter a clearing 950 yards away. Then, as it disappeared into the grasp of the timber shadows, another appeared in its place. A white one, a rarity I later learned. I had been in Montana twice before a few years ago to wolf hunt and the closest encounter I had were tracks in the dirt and snow. Now, I watched two wolves within seconds.
Alex is the eldest of the group, but certainly the ‘Billy Goatiest’. However, he cannot escape the calling of an old man nap, so nap he did. About an hour later, he awakes and glances once to his right and once to his left. Then he exclaimed, “There’s a bear!” Are you kidding me? I had been watching the openings amongst the trees for an hour with extreme caution, yet Alex glances over and locates a nice color phase chocolate bear about 1260 yards away, all while still having sleep in his eyes. Here is where experience came to rear its ugly face. I had acquired a phone camera adapter for my binos specifically for moments like this. Besides, professional YouTube and published hunters make it seem second nature. However, I fiddled around trying to get the camera lined up and missed seeing the bear with my own eyes. But now the dilemma entered the arena. Pursue or not to pursue? This time of year and with this year’s weather, it is slightly difficult to determine what the bear’s mission was. Was it looking for a sow because the rut was beginning, or was it looking for some green food and flowers to eat? If it is rut, it is probably gone. Looking for food, and it may be in the drainage that it vanished into. The internal debate was on. The terrain to pursue was not looking easy for this flatlander either. After a bit of internal arguing, I knew the decision to tackle the elevation was needed. This climb took us from 7600’ to 8360’. More wind sucking for me and this was when the thunder clouds rolled over us. We ultimately found a nice spot to tuck into and utilized some animal distress calling. But either the bear was gone, or it had no desire for a wounded animal. The pinnacle of climbing during our adventure brought us to 8457’ during our hike out. No picture can capture the essence this view has in-person, that one can only attain through their own eyes. The clean air, the cool breeze, the blue skies, the mountains that seemingly span forever, and the timbers that cloak anything in their shadows all come together to form visual tranquility.
Day 3 started out not surrounded by elk as before, but a very dominant elk was in the area that I watched during breakfast. Comparing it to the other elk we had observed, it appeared to be the local “monarch”. It had very nice velvet growth and it even carried its head as if it was already wearing its fully grown 8x8 headgear. After coming up with a plan, our day brought us to windier and sunnier mountain sides where we watched all the places that “should” hold a bear. No such luck though.
Day 4 was our exit. Nash needed to get down the mountain and get back to work. We opted to all hike out together since we had not seen any other bears, let alone any bear sign. Besides, I did not want to make Nash hike out alone, he was taking his time, to help me.
Day 5 and 6 were nearly uneventful. These days were just afternoon trips to some closer areas that did not require such a heavy pack. A few mule deer, elk, and couple other hunters were all we ever glassed.
The start of day 7 was sluggish. My friends each run their own businesses, and a week apart from their duties were weighing on them. Alex needed to return phone calls, find some products, and coordinate an upcoming job that could finally be started with the snow line’s recession. This whole time, Nash never really stopped working. His phone certainly never stopped vibrating the last 6 days, his facial expressions were telling, but he knows the key to being very successful at your own business is to hustle when the hustling is good. Later, with Alex needing to work, that left Nash and I to go at it one last time. I sensed Nash was not up to going this afternoon due to his requirement to schedule and return messages, but he pushed through his reluctance, for me. A true friend.
The area this afternoon brought us was just off the beaten path, but still a task to traverse. It is an area where Nash has observed a number of bears during his ventures out. Not long into our sit, we did see two hunters leaving down the trail, they must not have wanted to get rained on like we did shortly thereafter. I was able to check off testing out my new rain gear. A few mule deer appeared seemingly out of nowhere, through the same trailhead we started at, and walked up the drainage about 250 yards away, uninformed of our presence. Then, a coyote. Broadside at 350 yards. It had a coat like a midwestern coyote and was a fairly good size. It lived for another day and trotted around the mountainside before disappearing into the collage of fallen timber and burnt stumps.
As I stared at the mountain ridges and into the shadows hoping for the 11th hour appearance by a crusty bruiser, the realization that this endeavor was nearing an end, and I would be back to reality within the next couple days began to set in. Although, all was not lost. It would mean that I could return to my family and hold my children again. It is remarkable that the calm you so hope for without the raucous of pre-teens and a hungry baby, are also longed-for after only a short time apart.
I questioned whether or not I gave enough effort. Did I go far enough? Did I go high enough? It weighed on me a little bit, thinking my kids would see that I had not filled my tag. Then it was evident just before eating a nicely prepared meal by my friend Emma as her husband said grace; at the end, our success in this hunt was measured not by filling our tags, but rather the clarity obtained by finding a time of peace, 3 and a ½ miles in, 8350 feet up. Away from daily problems and distractions that we all face.
I implore you to find your own adventure where you are able to do the same. As you have read, life does not stop for you to go out and adventure. Life also does not remind you to slow down and seek adventure. Even though this trip was not ‘successful’ in the tagged-out sense, it was most certainly successful in the refreshing my spirit. Montana, I will be back.
After a few phone calls to my friends who live in Montana, it was settled. I would fly in, and we would go on a pack-in bear hunt. At first it was slated for April, then the snow kept falling and the temperatures stayed low. I’m not a fair-weather hunter by any means, but a week of hunting in the mountains of Montana with 3 feet of snow, post holing every step did not sound very appealing, May it was.
A common theme in the trip planning was, “’forget’ money”. New gear was arriving almost daily for a few weeks. Package delivery services were surely sick of my address. As I have come to find, there is gear that works, then there is gear that works well. Crispi boots saved my feet, and an Exo Mountain Gear pack saved my back and knees, and First Lite came through as normal with their wool layers. I used about everything, short of a few cold weather pieces since the weather was amazing. Highs of 80 and lows in the mid-40s along with a few rain showers and thunder clouds, which are really interesting when you are nearly standing inside them.
Day 1 was the ruck up the mountain and a real butt kicker for me; jet lag, a late night, a few beverages of choice, catching up, telling stories, and an early morning. There is Iowa in-shape and Montana in-shape. I found out I am probably somewhere in the middle, and that was ‘just’ good enough. I had completed some rucking challenges during my pre-hunt workup, and I firmly believe it paid dividends. However, I was nowhere near keeping up with my friends who seemed to have morphed into mountain goats. Flat landers cannot fully prepare for going up the mountains of the west. I could taste the iron from my lungs that were working in over-drive.
Our camp brought us in 3 and a 1/2 miles from the trailhead, we started at 5,550’ and our initial ascent brought us to 7,058’ before nestling our camp in a thicket of Aspen trees that were clearly well liked by Elk. There was not a single untouched tree or branch in the lot that did not have rub marks.
Day 1 came to an end after a young bull elk decided to investigate my friend Nash and I at 75 yards! A chip shot for the Hornady 7PRC cartridge. That bull was not the only elk though, we were nearly surrounded by a herd. Evidently, this was their territory, and they wanted to know what was going on. Camp was set, food was cooked, the fire was stoked, and the sleeping bags were fluffed.
Day 2’s morning was quite the philharmonic event. Elk bugles, cow calls, and even a few Elk barks (I had no idea they bark until then) all were sounded in the valley. The elk bugle worked like a charm, nearly seconds later a cow ran by the tent. So close in fact, that we could hear the impact of the hooves crunching the tall grass only a few yards away from our tent.
Our hike to a vantage point started out as a nice nature walk until Alex and Nash decided to hit the incline. It surely was not as bad as I felt at the time, but my lungs were in overdrive once again. Almost like the night before, we found ourselves surrounded by elk. A fall hunter’s dream, one might say. We established a hasty hide within some exposed rock face in a rolling mountain side. Alex’s eagle eyes worked their magic and within the hour he had spotted a wolf enter a clearing 950 yards away. Then, as it disappeared into the grasp of the timber shadows, another appeared in its place. A white one, a rarity I later learned. I had been in Montana twice before a few years ago to wolf hunt and the closest encounter I had were tracks in the dirt and snow. Now, I watched two wolves within seconds.
Alex is the eldest of the group, but certainly the ‘Billy Goatiest’. However, he cannot escape the calling of an old man nap, so nap he did. About an hour later, he awakes and glances once to his right and once to his left. Then he exclaimed, “There’s a bear!” Are you kidding me? I had been watching the openings amongst the trees for an hour with extreme caution, yet Alex glances over and locates a nice color phase chocolate bear about 1260 yards away, all while still having sleep in his eyes. Here is where experience came to rear its ugly face. I had acquired a phone camera adapter for my binos specifically for moments like this. Besides, professional YouTube and published hunters make it seem second nature. However, I fiddled around trying to get the camera lined up and missed seeing the bear with my own eyes. But now the dilemma entered the arena. Pursue or not to pursue? This time of year and with this year’s weather, it is slightly difficult to determine what the bear’s mission was. Was it looking for a sow because the rut was beginning, or was it looking for some green food and flowers to eat? If it is rut, it is probably gone. Looking for food, and it may be in the drainage that it vanished into. The internal debate was on. The terrain to pursue was not looking easy for this flatlander either. After a bit of internal arguing, I knew the decision to tackle the elevation was needed. This climb took us from 7600’ to 8360’. More wind sucking for me and this was when the thunder clouds rolled over us. We ultimately found a nice spot to tuck into and utilized some animal distress calling. But either the bear was gone, or it had no desire for a wounded animal. The pinnacle of climbing during our adventure brought us to 8457’ during our hike out. No picture can capture the essence this view has in-person, that one can only attain through their own eyes. The clean air, the cool breeze, the blue skies, the mountains that seemingly span forever, and the timbers that cloak anything in their shadows all come together to form visual tranquility.
Day 3 started out not surrounded by elk as before, but a very dominant elk was in the area that I watched during breakfast. Comparing it to the other elk we had observed, it appeared to be the local “monarch”. It had very nice velvet growth and it even carried its head as if it was already wearing its fully grown 8x8 headgear. After coming up with a plan, our day brought us to windier and sunnier mountain sides where we watched all the places that “should” hold a bear. No such luck though.
Day 4 was our exit. Nash needed to get down the mountain and get back to work. We opted to all hike out together since we had not seen any other bears, let alone any bear sign. Besides, I did not want to make Nash hike out alone, he was taking his time, to help me.
Day 5 and 6 were nearly uneventful. These days were just afternoon trips to some closer areas that did not require such a heavy pack. A few mule deer, elk, and couple other hunters were all we ever glassed.
The start of day 7 was sluggish. My friends each run their own businesses, and a week apart from their duties were weighing on them. Alex needed to return phone calls, find some products, and coordinate an upcoming job that could finally be started with the snow line’s recession. This whole time, Nash never really stopped working. His phone certainly never stopped vibrating the last 6 days, his facial expressions were telling, but he knows the key to being very successful at your own business is to hustle when the hustling is good. Later, with Alex needing to work, that left Nash and I to go at it one last time. I sensed Nash was not up to going this afternoon due to his requirement to schedule and return messages, but he pushed through his reluctance, for me. A true friend.
The area this afternoon brought us was just off the beaten path, but still a task to traverse. It is an area where Nash has observed a number of bears during his ventures out. Not long into our sit, we did see two hunters leaving down the trail, they must not have wanted to get rained on like we did shortly thereafter. I was able to check off testing out my new rain gear. A few mule deer appeared seemingly out of nowhere, through the same trailhead we started at, and walked up the drainage about 250 yards away, uninformed of our presence. Then, a coyote. Broadside at 350 yards. It had a coat like a midwestern coyote and was a fairly good size. It lived for another day and trotted around the mountainside before disappearing into the collage of fallen timber and burnt stumps.
As I stared at the mountain ridges and into the shadows hoping for the 11th hour appearance by a crusty bruiser, the realization that this endeavor was nearing an end, and I would be back to reality within the next couple days began to set in. Although, all was not lost. It would mean that I could return to my family and hold my children again. It is remarkable that the calm you so hope for without the raucous of pre-teens and a hungry baby, are also longed-for after only a short time apart.
I questioned whether or not I gave enough effort. Did I go far enough? Did I go high enough? It weighed on me a little bit, thinking my kids would see that I had not filled my tag. Then it was evident just before eating a nicely prepared meal by my friend Emma as her husband said grace; at the end, our success in this hunt was measured not by filling our tags, but rather the clarity obtained by finding a time of peace, 3 and a ½ miles in, 8350 feet up. Away from daily problems and distractions that we all face.
I implore you to find your own adventure where you are able to do the same. As you have read, life does not stop for you to go out and adventure. Life also does not remind you to slow down and seek adventure. Even though this trip was not ‘successful’ in the tagged-out sense, it was most certainly successful in the refreshing my spirit. Montana, I will be back.
