Hey folks, Just wondering everyone's most challenging packout and why we say to ourselves "Im never packing this heavy and far again" only to find yourself in the same situation the following year. If you're like me you're a big dummy who will continue to shoot large animals too far from the take out. Fresh game meat is a powerful motivator.......that's my excuse.
Your hardest packout EVER!
- Thread starter AK_LOST
- Start date
thru-hunter
WKR
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- Feb 25, 2012
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- 313
Last year when I came out lighter than I went in.
I always thought it was my buddies animals that weighed the most but it may actually be the unpunched tag in my pocket that makes those humps the toughest. If my streak as bridesmaid gets any longer I might have to trade the rifle in on a really nice camera and start eating more granola!
28 more days till wheels up!
Travis1984
WKR
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2012
- Messages
- 683
My hardest packout in retrospect wasn't a difficult pack out at all. But I'll explain why it destroyed me. The year was 2006 and I decided I wanted to really start hunting Big Game after hunting birds all my life. My friend invited me to elk camp. Now in 2006, I was probably what you would call soft. I wasn't fat, but I wasn't strong, and certainly had no idea walking around aimlessly in the woods all day would make me so damned tired haha.
Opening day, a group member gets a bull down. The pack in 2 miles, straight up hill. I had a quarter on my back.
Now, this was my first pack ever. I was using a cabelas Alaskan Frame, with no real idea how to adjust it, and I was just trying to take mental notes on how they had gut the bull.
That two miles back to camp was the longest trudge of my life.
I can still remember how mentally tough and grueling it was for a rookie hunter on day one, who didn't think he needed to work out prior to season.
I can also remember it was that day that got me hooked.
Now I've got tons of packouts under my belt, some ended up being longer, some shorter, but none tested me like that first one.
Thanks for asking this question, I hadn't thought about that packout in years!
Opening day, a group member gets a bull down. The pack in 2 miles, straight up hill. I had a quarter on my back.
Now, this was my first pack ever. I was using a cabelas Alaskan Frame, with no real idea how to adjust it, and I was just trying to take mental notes on how they had gut the bull.
That two miles back to camp was the longest trudge of my life.
I can still remember how mentally tough and grueling it was for a rookie hunter on day one, who didn't think he needed to work out prior to season.
I can also remember it was that day that got me hooked.
Now I've got tons of packouts under my belt, some ended up being longer, some shorter, but none tested me like that first one.
Thanks for asking this question, I hadn't thought about that packout in years!
Hunt'nFish
WKR
Well my hardest pack was a few years back when a burn & resulting blow bowns had left our area impassable to the mules. Combine that with no elk close to base camp and we found ourselves looking across canyon toward our normal spike camp hunting area. I'd scouted the trail for an alternate route pre-season and didn't find a way through but Brother & my Father decided to hike the 6 miles on foot just to see if the elk were over there. They were, so they settled in for the night w/ a few power bars and a pint a brandy for the two of them & slept leaned against a tree next to the fire pit. All while I ate like a king, showered and slept on Dad's comfy cabela's cot in the nice warm wall tent. We were in radio contact and I was convinced they were pulling my leg when they said they were going to stay the night over there. They weren't.
Next morning comes. I'm tagless so I head out to a favorite spotting ridge that puts me cross canyon from them. I watch & listen to them formulate a hunt plan which morphs & evolves quickly as elk are spotted. Mind you this is a spike only hunt and no one in there right mind should be working this hard for a spike, but this is what we do big bull tags or not. Every year father & sons, mules, wilderness we love it. Anyway, back to the story.... brother drops into a hole we've taken probably a dozen elk out of and comes up dry, but bumps a herd out a north that puts Dad in prime location. (Dad is a 3x cancer survivor and a shadow of the man he once was, so he's sticking to the high ground and letting Brother do the dog work.) He hooks around a ridge that places him in a sniping position as these elk feed through a saddle. 150yds, spike down. Elk roll back over toward brother, and he asks for yea/nay on dumping another. I thinking the same thoughts as Dad, best take care of the one we have first. Remember the mules are of no help considering we can't get them through all the blow down. Sure we could've spent untold hours w/ the misery whip..... if it weren't for this one particular 4-5ft dia ponderosa across the trail in one of the nastyist rim rocky places in the trail. So brother passes on the elk and we all sit in silence as we contemplate the work ahead of us.
Fortunately the spike is down in one of the easier places over there, ~1/3mile down ridge off the main trail. Normally we could've ridden the mules right to the elk. But not right now. Brother asks if I have a plan, a respond I was hoping he did. We both know the plan, and neither is liking it. So I hike back to camp, dump all the contents out of it and begin to fill it power bars, thier favorite candy bars, a water bottle apeice, every pint of brandy I can find, cigars, a 6pk of Henrys, a couple cokes and a touch of Wild Turkey. Oh and the pull saw and meat sacks. By the time I get there it should be ~1pm and they will have the elk worked up, be hungry, worn out, tired and very thirsty.
There are two small creeks at about 2m intervals. I leave 3 Henrys in each, 1ea, cold and enticing. Good goal setting motivators. I make good time, cutting an hour off my estimate. Figure I should get there in time to get a load out today. I get to the drop off point on the trail/ridge and find 2qtrs already trailside. WOW! Brother is really working his ass off. I dump my Nimrod Pinnacle pack, grab some water, cigars, power bars and a coke an turkey shot and dump over the edge. I get to the elk just as I see brother struggleing to lift and balance a hind & front blade. I wave him off but he continues up the 45d slope, I see Dad part way up between us. I get to Dad's position about the same time brother does. I tell him to drop them but he doesn't want to considering how hard it was to get them up there and balanced. But I'm here now so I point that out and order him to drop them. He does and I can see he's REALLY glad to see me. I hand a water bottle to him and he immediately drinks half and hands the bottle to Dad. Dad feels guilty to drink because Brother's been doing all the heavy lifting I can tell he is just as tired & thirsty so I point out I have another bottle w/ me and one more back up at the pack/trail. He drinks. We just happened to be standing in the shadow of a big pine on hillside. So I suggest we share some smoke, both seem open to that as they smoked up all they had during the night. But before I'd let them have a cigar I handed them a power bar, nope neither wanted that, to bad eat it anyway otherwise no cigar. I know they are so tired they don't even feel like eatting. But that is exactly what they NEED to do. Eat, hydrate, rest, pop a pain killer, hydrate, eat, rest........ otherwise we are NOT going to get a load of meat out today if I don't get some fuel in them ASAP. I know both of them well, can't pass up a cigar or a touch of brandy, so I use that to my advantage. They REALLY don't want to eat. BUT.. gotta eat & hydrate before I pull out the rewards. (wink) he, he, he. Anyway after getting a power bar, a couple Baby Ruth's and some more water down each, I pull out the brandy. OMG you could see the twinkle in their eye. Come on! You don't think I'd come all this way to help and forget the brandy do you?!?! Not on your life. Food, water, pain killers, Brandy & some smoke and spirits are starting to lift. I can see it in them as the sugars, water and alchohol begin to recharge thier blood stream. Body condition, blood suagr levels and mental attitude run hand in hand, I know this. I knew the only way we were going to get this done was to be well fueled, in body & spirit. Cigars half smoked, food consumed, brandy killed, I pull out a coke and a turkey shot and mix a communial toddy right there in the shade on that lone pine on the side of one of the biggest hell holes in North America. Ahhhhh, the stuff life is made of. So after finishing our cigars, I take the hind & give brother the easier front blade and we head up the face to the trail above. Once there I pull out more water, force another power bar down each, and toss Dad a fresh pack of smokes which I knew he'd appreciate. Out comes another coke & more wild turkey. We each have a smoke will passing the toddy back & forth. Pain killers are starting to kick in and we all feel good. Now... for the hard work.
We start sacking meat, arranging packs and figuring how we're going to get these qtrs lashed on. We each have basically glorified "fanny packs". I suggest we each take a hind & blade and see if dad can take the heat & liver & cut meat. Brother looks at me and says there is now way in hell that I could pack half an elk 6miles back to camp. He's probably right, but I also know I have cold beers stashed that I plan to stop & drink. I also know my Brother will not be out done by any man. his ego is his achilles heel. I kno that if I can, he WILL. So I point out that IF we could get it all to the first creek crossing it would cut 3-4hrs off our pack tomorrow. (2hrs less each way) Seems sounds right. Work extra hard 2hrs today to save 4hrs tomorrow. Ok plan set. Meat lashed on the back, tested, relashed, ok we head out. Get to first creek, drop packs. OMG those are heavy, straps digging into shoulders. Drink beer, have a smoke and another power bar. About half drunk by this time, probably would've been were it not for all the hard work. Feeling good all things considered. Decide to be greedy & continue w/ full loads. I know brother will not stop at the next creek, but hoped the beer waiting would force him to. You see I have shared this with you..... my brother lost the use on one of him legs in a logging accident. He is paralyzed from the knee down and wears a special brace that allows him to walk. But don't you worry about him, he'll hunt/hike any man I know into the ground. I wish we'd taken a pic or two, sure was a sight to behold. A cripple w/ half an elk on his back and me his 250lb over-weight brother w/ another half on his back, and Dad with a meat sack fashioned bandoler style with tomorrow's dinner.
We get to the final creek and no brother, his beer is gone, just as I suspected. Dad is wearing out. So am I for that matter. I drop pack and we drink our last beers and have another power bar. Buzz has worn off and needs recharged, not to worry I'd been holding back one pint of brandy for just this moment.... the final push. The pack is really starting to hurt so I pop a vicodine and wash it down w/ some creek water. Time to man up and push through the pain. Besides, someone told me earlier that I could'nt do it. Welll lets just see. Off we set again passing the brandy back & forth while we hike. Starting to get late in the evening, best pick up the pace unless we want to hike in the dark.
We break over the final ridge just as it's turning dark. I look down the trail toward camp and see brother coming toward me w/ two more cold Henrys. OMG what a brother! That final walk into camp was one of the best feelings I've EVER had. WOW. The chit we grow old on.
Hunt'nFish
Next morning comes. I'm tagless so I head out to a favorite spotting ridge that puts me cross canyon from them. I watch & listen to them formulate a hunt plan which morphs & evolves quickly as elk are spotted. Mind you this is a spike only hunt and no one in there right mind should be working this hard for a spike, but this is what we do big bull tags or not. Every year father & sons, mules, wilderness we love it. Anyway, back to the story.... brother drops into a hole we've taken probably a dozen elk out of and comes up dry, but bumps a herd out a north that puts Dad in prime location. (Dad is a 3x cancer survivor and a shadow of the man he once was, so he's sticking to the high ground and letting Brother do the dog work.) He hooks around a ridge that places him in a sniping position as these elk feed through a saddle. 150yds, spike down. Elk roll back over toward brother, and he asks for yea/nay on dumping another. I thinking the same thoughts as Dad, best take care of the one we have first. Remember the mules are of no help considering we can't get them through all the blow down. Sure we could've spent untold hours w/ the misery whip..... if it weren't for this one particular 4-5ft dia ponderosa across the trail in one of the nastyist rim rocky places in the trail. So brother passes on the elk and we all sit in silence as we contemplate the work ahead of us.
Fortunately the spike is down in one of the easier places over there, ~1/3mile down ridge off the main trail. Normally we could've ridden the mules right to the elk. But not right now. Brother asks if I have a plan, a respond I was hoping he did. We both know the plan, and neither is liking it. So I hike back to camp, dump all the contents out of it and begin to fill it power bars, thier favorite candy bars, a water bottle apeice, every pint of brandy I can find, cigars, a 6pk of Henrys, a couple cokes and a touch of Wild Turkey. Oh and the pull saw and meat sacks. By the time I get there it should be ~1pm and they will have the elk worked up, be hungry, worn out, tired and very thirsty.
There are two small creeks at about 2m intervals. I leave 3 Henrys in each, 1ea, cold and enticing. Good goal setting motivators. I make good time, cutting an hour off my estimate. Figure I should get there in time to get a load out today. I get to the drop off point on the trail/ridge and find 2qtrs already trailside. WOW! Brother is really working his ass off. I dump my Nimrod Pinnacle pack, grab some water, cigars, power bars and a coke an turkey shot and dump over the edge. I get to the elk just as I see brother struggleing to lift and balance a hind & front blade. I wave him off but he continues up the 45d slope, I see Dad part way up between us. I get to Dad's position about the same time brother does. I tell him to drop them but he doesn't want to considering how hard it was to get them up there and balanced. But I'm here now so I point that out and order him to drop them. He does and I can see he's REALLY glad to see me. I hand a water bottle to him and he immediately drinks half and hands the bottle to Dad. Dad feels guilty to drink because Brother's been doing all the heavy lifting I can tell he is just as tired & thirsty so I point out I have another bottle w/ me and one more back up at the pack/trail. He drinks. We just happened to be standing in the shadow of a big pine on hillside. So I suggest we share some smoke, both seem open to that as they smoked up all they had during the night. But before I'd let them have a cigar I handed them a power bar, nope neither wanted that, to bad eat it anyway otherwise no cigar. I know they are so tired they don't even feel like eatting. But that is exactly what they NEED to do. Eat, hydrate, rest, pop a pain killer, hydrate, eat, rest........ otherwise we are NOT going to get a load of meat out today if I don't get some fuel in them ASAP. I know both of them well, can't pass up a cigar or a touch of brandy, so I use that to my advantage. They REALLY don't want to eat. BUT.. gotta eat & hydrate before I pull out the rewards. (wink) he, he, he. Anyway after getting a power bar, a couple Baby Ruth's and some more water down each, I pull out the brandy. OMG you could see the twinkle in their eye. Come on! You don't think I'd come all this way to help and forget the brandy do you?!?! Not on your life. Food, water, pain killers, Brandy & some smoke and spirits are starting to lift. I can see it in them as the sugars, water and alchohol begin to recharge thier blood stream. Body condition, blood suagr levels and mental attitude run hand in hand, I know this. I knew the only way we were going to get this done was to be well fueled, in body & spirit. Cigars half smoked, food consumed, brandy killed, I pull out a coke and a turkey shot and mix a communial toddy right there in the shade on that lone pine on the side of one of the biggest hell holes in North America. Ahhhhh, the stuff life is made of. So after finishing our cigars, I take the hind & give brother the easier front blade and we head up the face to the trail above. Once there I pull out more water, force another power bar down each, and toss Dad a fresh pack of smokes which I knew he'd appreciate. Out comes another coke & more wild turkey. We each have a smoke will passing the toddy back & forth. Pain killers are starting to kick in and we all feel good. Now... for the hard work.
We start sacking meat, arranging packs and figuring how we're going to get these qtrs lashed on. We each have basically glorified "fanny packs". I suggest we each take a hind & blade and see if dad can take the heat & liver & cut meat. Brother looks at me and says there is now way in hell that I could pack half an elk 6miles back to camp. He's probably right, but I also know I have cold beers stashed that I plan to stop & drink. I also know my Brother will not be out done by any man. his ego is his achilles heel. I kno that if I can, he WILL. So I point out that IF we could get it all to the first creek crossing it would cut 3-4hrs off our pack tomorrow. (2hrs less each way) Seems sounds right. Work extra hard 2hrs today to save 4hrs tomorrow. Ok plan set. Meat lashed on the back, tested, relashed, ok we head out. Get to first creek, drop packs. OMG those are heavy, straps digging into shoulders. Drink beer, have a smoke and another power bar. About half drunk by this time, probably would've been were it not for all the hard work. Feeling good all things considered. Decide to be greedy & continue w/ full loads. I know brother will not stop at the next creek, but hoped the beer waiting would force him to. You see I have shared this with you..... my brother lost the use on one of him legs in a logging accident. He is paralyzed from the knee down and wears a special brace that allows him to walk. But don't you worry about him, he'll hunt/hike any man I know into the ground. I wish we'd taken a pic or two, sure was a sight to behold. A cripple w/ half an elk on his back and me his 250lb over-weight brother w/ another half on his back, and Dad with a meat sack fashioned bandoler style with tomorrow's dinner.
We get to the final creek and no brother, his beer is gone, just as I suspected. Dad is wearing out. So am I for that matter. I drop pack and we drink our last beers and have another power bar. Buzz has worn off and needs recharged, not to worry I'd been holding back one pint of brandy for just this moment.... the final push. The pack is really starting to hurt so I pop a vicodine and wash it down w/ some creek water. Time to man up and push through the pain. Besides, someone told me earlier that I could'nt do it. Welll lets just see. Off we set again passing the brandy back & forth while we hike. Starting to get late in the evening, best pick up the pace unless we want to hike in the dark.
We break over the final ridge just as it's turning dark. I look down the trail toward camp and see brother coming toward me w/ two more cold Henrys. OMG what a brother! That final walk into camp was one of the best feelings I've EVER had. WOW. The chit we grow old on.
Hunt'nFish
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Hunt'nFish
WKR
Obviously you don't understand the power of a good cigar and mental boosting properties of Brandy, not to mention the blood sugar rush Bandy brings to the table. Oh we'd have gotten back to camp in due time, would've been ugly though. Some things are all about mental determination and and a good metal attitude.
I think the cigars & brandy helped on both accounts.
Hunt'nFish
bbrown
WKR
Damn good story Hunt'nFish!
Have not had too many "bad" pack outs because there is always a smile on my face - gotta love that pain. But if I had to pick one it would be helping a buddy pack out his cow last year with a borrowed Cabelas Alaskan Frame pack - cant see how anyone could love one of those. In all fairness I did not take much time to get it adjusted quite right.
This was definitely NOT my hardest pack out...
Have not had too many "bad" pack outs because there is always a smile on my face - gotta love that pain. But if I had to pick one it would be helping a buddy pack out his cow last year with a borrowed Cabelas Alaskan Frame pack - cant see how anyone could love one of those. In all fairness I did not take much time to get it adjusted quite right.
This was definitely NOT my hardest pack out...
Last edited:
Daniel_M
WKR
Only 1 moose ever gave me a hard time. That 1/4 mile on flat ground was killer. Other than that, we like to catch 'em on the river. Personal best was one foot in the boat, one foot on the bank skinning. 3 hour turnaround time and we were jammin for camp.
luke moffat
Super Moderator
- Joined
- Feb 24, 2012
- Messages
- 110
I hear ya there. Though I have already succumbed to that notion. Last year went on 3 dall sheep hunts and 2 mountain goat hunts....all I brought was a camera....might try it out, saves me 6 extra pounds in pack weight.
Pretty sure I got pack for others thing more than dialed in.
Sundodger
Lil-Rokslider
It's going to be WAY higher for the two trips, I can tell you that without any cal's.
Rizzy
WKR
I took my first black bear right before dark in a new area in the high sierras of central califonia in 2008. I got it all field dressed by midnight and decided to head out. It was pitch black and after fumbling around for a while decided to use my map and compass and head for a trail instead of cross country over the mountain. I was reluctant because the trail took me to a different area all together about 10 miles from my truck via forest service roads. I was on a day hunt and didn't have my camp with me. This was in good ol' days of badlands 2200's and dayhunts. My camp was about 3 or 4 miles closer than my truck, so I went for it. With a bear quarter in the 2200 I eventually found the trail, followed it to the road, and hiked the roads back to camp. It took most of the night to get to camp and the next morning I hiked to the truck. I then drove over to the trailhead and packed the rest of the bear out.
- Thread Starter
- #15
These are some good stories...My first was my worst. Short version-moose hind quarter in my dads 1989 camp trails pack, 4 miles from camp if I took a straight line, pack out started at 10pm, we finally gave up at 3 am and started burning deadfall to stay warm until first light, didn't want to leave the big pieces due to seeing bear. The funny thing is having a big slab of bloody meat hanging from my back stumbling around in darkness, the grizzly's were the last thing on my mind
First one for me.
Idaho Whitetail in an EMS external frame Pack that I later found out was a women's model. Less than 2 miles out of a river canyon and back to the truck.
It was a breakthrough for me being the first animal I'd boned, and carried out. Sure liked the feeling of accomplishment though when I got to the truck.
Idaho Whitetail in an EMS external frame Pack that I later found out was a women's model. Less than 2 miles out of a river canyon and back to the truck.
It was a breakthrough for me being the first animal I'd boned, and carried out. Sure liked the feeling of accomplishment though when I got to the truck.
actionshooter
WKR
My worst pack out wasn't a pack it was a drag.
Very 1st year (about 92) I hunted the "backcountry". My buddies and I were camping at a trailhead and hiking into a wilderness area every morning and out every night, 2-1/2 miles each way. Well about the 3rd day my buddy actually killed a 4 point!! Excited wasn't the word....."dumb" was the word
I had a decent enough pack, but he had a little daypack and he decided it wouldn't be all that bad to drag it back to the trailhead (almost 3 miles), 9+ hours later, seriously dehydrated , we drug a now hairless 4 point into camp.
Very 1st year (about 92) I hunted the "backcountry". My buddies and I were camping at a trailhead and hiking into a wilderness area every morning and out every night, 2-1/2 miles each way. Well about the 3rd day my buddy actually killed a 4 point!! Excited wasn't the word....."dumb" was the word
I had a decent enough pack, but he had a little daypack and he decided it wouldn't be all that bad to drag it back to the trailhead (almost 3 miles), 9+ hours later, seriously dehydrated , we drug a now hairless 4 point into camp.
belly-deep
WKR
- Joined
- May 23, 2012
- Messages
- 707
In 2007, I got out of class at MSU and headed down the Gallatin to glass for feeding elk right before dark. The plan was to come back the next day and drill one at daylight, but I threw a rifle, pack, and waders in anyway.
Glassed a bull and some cows across the river and decided to go after them. Shot the bull in an avalanche slide right at dark, loaded a quarter on and headed back through the steep, blowdown timber.
I took a different way out because of the load on my back, and found out when I got to the river I couldn't follow along the banks back to my waders (too many cliffs). Made the decision to cross right there, without waders. One of the spookiest times of my life. Wading the Gallatin in the dark, no waders or felt-soled boots, with an elk quarter on my back. Luckily I'd worked as a flyfishing guide for several years and could make a pretty good guess as to how deep the nighttime water was by watching its surface activity and bank structure. I made it across that November water ok with a couple wading sticks, but had to endure shrinkage that no man should be subjected to.
Then I dropped the pack and had to walk a couple miles up the highway to my vehicle. During the packout, a bunch of blood had leaked through the pack and onto my back and shoulders. A yuppie couple stopped to ask if I was in danger or needed help of any kind. I was probably quite a sight: soaking wet from the mid-belly down and covered in blood everywhere else.
Once back to my vehicle, I had to re-cross the river to get my waders (which I had left on the other side of the river at the start of my hunt). At that point, there was no point in putting the waders back on, so I crossed the Gallatin for the third time with no waders.
I was pretty darn cold. Didn't help that I was hunting in Carhartts. Took a long, warm bath that night.
Glassed a bull and some cows across the river and decided to go after them. Shot the bull in an avalanche slide right at dark, loaded a quarter on and headed back through the steep, blowdown timber.
I took a different way out because of the load on my back, and found out when I got to the river I couldn't follow along the banks back to my waders (too many cliffs). Made the decision to cross right there, without waders. One of the spookiest times of my life. Wading the Gallatin in the dark, no waders or felt-soled boots, with an elk quarter on my back. Luckily I'd worked as a flyfishing guide for several years and could make a pretty good guess as to how deep the nighttime water was by watching its surface activity and bank structure. I made it across that November water ok with a couple wading sticks, but had to endure shrinkage that no man should be subjected to.
Then I dropped the pack and had to walk a couple miles up the highway to my vehicle. During the packout, a bunch of blood had leaked through the pack and onto my back and shoulders. A yuppie couple stopped to ask if I was in danger or needed help of any kind. I was probably quite a sight: soaking wet from the mid-belly down and covered in blood everywhere else.
Once back to my vehicle, I had to re-cross the river to get my waders (which I had left on the other side of the river at the start of my hunt). At that point, there was no point in putting the waders back on, so I crossed the Gallatin for the third time with no waders.
I was pretty darn cold. Didn't help that I was hunting in Carhartts. Took a long, warm bath that night.
thru-hunter
WKR
- Joined
- Feb 25, 2012
- Messages
- 313
I hear ya there. Though I have already succumbed to that notion. Last year went on 3 dall sheep hunts and 2 mountain goat hunts....all I brought was a camera....might try it out, saves me 6 extra pounds in pack weight.
After our 2009 goat hunt I am glad someone is putting you to work!
luke moffat
Super Moderator
- Joined
- Feb 24, 2012
- Messages
- 110
You mean besides picking the spot, lining up logistics, packing the heaviest pack up the hill by 10 pounds while weighing 40 pounds less than the next guy on the trip, breaking the trail up the mountain, and letting everyone else shoot first so I could go into sketch land to go get a goat for myself and then bring it down to the flat land to have you help me pack it out
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