Dukats Journal of Hunting

From that distance, we couldn't tell if they were billies or nannies.  I estimated they were two to three miles away.  We decided we needed to get a closer look to make a decision, but also that we needed to get our gear and the spotting scopes.  Off we went, hiking back over the 13,200’ to get our gear and for a third time back over the 13,200’ toward the goats.  We hiked to within a mile and decide that one was a billy.  Scott swore he was very small, but I was at the point that I expected Dan to kill any goat that moved.  The fact that it was a billy made it even better and I didn’t care about his size although I thought he looked pretty good.  This was the first group of goats we had seen that we even had a prayer of getting close enough to shoot.  The others were on cliffs that we had no chance of climbing.  We made the decision to put a stalk on him because it seemed like a very good location for a stalk.  If we could get across the open area above him without spooking them, then we could get close enough for a shot.

We hiked, climbed, and slide down to him across and over some nice rock screes and managed to get about 30 yards above him.  Dan lined up and put two shots into him and he just laid where he was shot.  I suppose the elevation he was shot at was around 12,500’ We celebrated the kill, watched the few kids and nannies slowly get up and walk to their escape route...they weren’t terribly wild, and we headed for the goat.   When we were within 10’ of reaching him, he kicked out one of his hind legs and we see all saw his muscles relax.  The next thing we knew, he started tumbling, and rolling, and flipping, end over end, traveling about 600 yards down, AND I MEAN DOWN, the opposite side of the ridge from camp.

It's now about 2 or 2:30 p.m. and Scott, Dan, and I came up with a plan. Scott would go back and find Matt and the 2 of them will break down camp and head down to the parking lot.  Dan and I would prepare the goat and pack it to the bottom of the other side, hang it in a tree and then meet Matt and Scott at the parking lot.  The next morning we would take the horses back up and get the goat hanging in a tree.  Ahh....what a great plan that would have been. 

Dan and I head off on an adventure we will not soon forget.  We got to the goat and it was lying on a much steeper slope than where it was shot.  The only reason it stopped was it slammed into some bushes big enough to break it’s fall.  Now we have a debate.  Drag it out of the bushes and break it down on the steep slope or push it down some more and worry about further damage.  It had already taken a decent beating and we decided we could gut it, skin it, quarter it, and pack it right there on the side of the mountain.  We decided we did not need to spend the extra time and effort to get it to a more level spot. As it turned out, preparing the goat in this location was nowhere near as easy as we had thought, and we didn’t think it was going to be easy in the first place. 

It was quite a task to hold, drag, and cut up this thing without falling down the mountain.  It is still amazing to me the shape of this goat.  He had a chest the same size and shaped exactly like a 55 gallon barrel. I thought maybe he had somehow bloated during his fall down, but no, his ribs really were actually shaped that way. We finally finished and got him into 2 game bags weighing around 75-100lbs each.  2 hind quarters and a front quarter in one and the head and whole skin and one front quarter in another.  Since we thought the head was a little more protected now, we proceeded to kick the bags down to the first flat spot. 

Meanwhile it was starting to get dark and a storm was rolling in across the valley.  We reached the flat spot and decided we better do some scouting before we load the packs on our backs and head in the wrong direction.  We climbed down and picked a path where we thought we could get down and then hiked back up toload the goat on our backs.  We proceeded, hunched over down the mountain towards our chosen path.  It was at about this point, we realized for the first time that we were in trouble.  Our packs were too heavy and we were too exhausted for the terrain we were covering.  We managed to get down to 11,200’ before we decided we were in real trouble.  We dropped the goat on a trail after having to slide down the mountain on our butts crashing into Aspen trees to slow our fall, and about 10 minutes after dropping the goat off, our headlamps came on for the night.  

Now our main thoughts turned to just getting down.  We spent the next 3 to 4 hours crashing down the mountain.  Every time we started making some headway, we had to head back up when we would hit a cliff blocking our descent.  We would climb over and then down and then back up, fighting our way through groves of the nasty little Aspen trees.  Finally around 10 p.m., as I slid down a steep bank and found myself holding on to a folded Aspen above my head with my headlamp peering off into nothingness, I suggested we climb up to the first spot where we could lay down and try to tough it out through the night.  So we do.  

All of our sleeping bags and camping gear were by this time down at the trailhead with Matt and Scott, so we had very little to fight the elements.  We caught 8 oz. of rain water in a plastic sheet because we were completely out of  water, then laid under the plastic until around 1 a.m. when we realized that we are both freezing cold.  The plastic was keeping us soaking wet making matters worse if that was possible. 

We start doing jumping jacks and Dan has an amazing revelation, asking if I have any matches.  Yes, yes I did.  Due to the dehydration, altitude, exhaustion, and the cold, our frozen little brains had not concluded that it might be a good idea to try and build a fire.  We spent the next hour and a half trying to get a fire built out of what soaking wet little sticks we could find on the side of our cliff.  The next four hours we took turns feeding our little 1’x1’ fire and laying in the fetal position in the mud as close to the fire as we could without actually catching on fire.  After what seemed like an eternity, daybreak finally broke and the sun slowly lit up the sky.  We studied our map and headed off to find water, fight more of those dirty little aspens, and try to make it down to the trail.  We finally made it, hit the trail, and after another 4 or 5 miles made it to the parking lot.  By now it was 12:30 p.m. and Matt and Scott were just about to call search and rescue.  Now we have to get the goat.  Son of a #*^)(#*$^(#&*$^*. 

Dan took the Goat to check in and the Ranger said “wow, let me get the head wildlife biologist.” She comes out and apparently is very impressed, and says she wants to get some other folks out so they can see what a mature Billy looks like.  They stood around and guessed the age at nine, but possibly ten.  She said by the head and feet it was as physically big a Billy as she's had ever seen.  She said the horns weren't as big as some she'd seen, but thought it would go very close to making Boone and Crocket.  The right horn measured 8 6/8, the left (which lost a chip off the tip) was 8 5/8, and the bases were 4 7/8.  The taxidermist was also very impressed.  We guessed the goat at around 300 lbs and the guy said. “Well there aren't very many 300 lb goats out there,” but when he saw him, he had to rethink his statement.  His only comment was, he was definitely a horse.

Goat hunting is truly an adventure, but be prepared if you do it yourself.  It could cost you your life if your not careful.