October of 2006 found me in the Kootenay Mountains of British Columbia. Working with John Andre, I booked my goat hunt through Shoshone Wilderness Outfitters. The price and schedule were perfect and working with John was a pleasure.
During the afternoon of my first day in camp, after checking my .325 WSM Winchester Model 70, Chad and I set off to glass for goats. By the end of the day, Chad decided we would hunt Pistouli Mountain, which rose to about 8,500 feet. We had glassed a few decent goats near the summit, one of which Chad described as a “monster.” I had hoped to take the horses at least part way up, but Chad told me we would be climbing, as there were no horse trails going up to where we had spotted the goats. No problem, I thought. I’d been hiking all summer long. I was in shape for this. I could not have been more wrong!
To describe the climb as challenging would be a gross understatement. We were often hiking at near vertical angles, and it was like nothing I had ever experienced or anticipated. The “walking stick” I picked up at the base of the mountain (which is still displayed in my gun room) literally saved me from falling backwards down a rock-strewn slope more than once. After a five-hour climb, we were in sight of the goats. Three goats were in a shear (an area where avalanches had cleared all large trees from the slope) and were peacefully grazing about 600 yards away. Chad and I traversed a cliff with a sheer drop of about 2,000 feet to get to the goats. He advised me not to slip, but I had that figured out all by myself.
We climbed a small promontory and saw…nothing! Chad glassed the entire area and then saw a herd of elk about a half mile below us. He went down to glass the elk and came back asking only, “Do you have an elk tag? The bull is an easy 7x7. We could take him from about 400 yards.” I told him I didn’t, as I already had a 6x6 on the wall and didn’t have space for another elk. We waited another hour for the goats, but they were no-shows.
Dusk was upon us, and Chad suggested we either get off the mountain or sleep at the summit. I was not equipped to overnight at that altitude and told Chad that I was happy to go back to camp. Anyone who thinks that going up is harder than going down should try it sometime. I began to believe that the climb down the mountain would probably kill me, not knowing there was something waiting at the base of the mountain that could really do the job.
After a four-hour descent, we reached the base of the mountain. I was out of water, exhausted, limping, and not paying great attention. Chad urgently motioned me toward him, telling me to “get moving.” I couldn’t understand what the hurry was; we had already missed dinner and were close to the truck. Within a few seconds I understood the urgency in his voice. Chad shone his flashlight into the willows about 25 yards away. All I could see were two green orbs, about a foot apart and about four feet off the ground. “Grizzly,” was all Chad said. Then he reached for my rifle. Chad put two rounds over the bear’s head, and it seemed to run off. We cautiously walked back to the truck, stopping only to refill our canteens from a clear running spring.
The next day we glassed alternate ridges for the goats. Chad found two nice goats on a summit known as the “Lead Mine.” He said there was a good horse trail that went half way up, and it wouldn’t be nearly the climb we had the day before, which sounded great to me. We drove back to camp, with a solid plan for the next day.
Early the next morning, Chad had the horses saddled before breakfast. After a full meal we set out on horseback well before sunrise. Even though it was pitch black as we rode through the lower evergreens, my horse, Jasmine, never stepped off the trail. Shortly after dawn we tied up the horses, and Chad glassed the far peak and saw two trophy-quality goats. We followed a game trail for about two miles up the mountain to a flat near the summit. By the time we got there the goats had moved to the sunny side of the slope and were nowhere to be seen. We took advantage of their absence to get lunch and take a short break.
At about 3 p.m. one of the goats came into view, closely followed by the other. At that point they were both more than 500 yards distant. I got into shooting position as stealthily as possible, knowing that the goats would take any motion as a sign of danger. After what seemed to be an eternity, they moved closer (if 400 yards is close). My heart slowed, and I steadied the rifle. The closest goat presented a broadside target, and I killed it with one shot at 388 yards. The Sierra 220 grain bullet took the goat in the lungs, and a few seconds later it collapsed and rolled off what I later realized was a 150-foot cliff. It skidded down the slope another 200 yards to become tangled in a small group of short fir trees. If not for those trees, it could have slid down the rest of the 1,000-yard rock-strewn slope.
After another extensive climb, we got just above the goat. In about a half hour, we were able to haul the goat out of the small copse of trees that stopped its fall. After another hour, working on a 3-foot wide ledge with almost no handholds, we had it skinned and packed into our backpacks. We got to the horses just before sundown and rode down in total darkness. Chad advised against using our headlamps, as he felt it confused the horses. Every once in a while Jasmine would loose the trail, and we’d end up on the edge of what seemed to be a cliff. I was grateful that I took riding lessons the previous summer and was able to steer her in the right direction. We arrived at camp well after dinner, but once the guides and hunters saw the trophy, we were treated to more than one Molsons and whatever food was left. This time I had too much adrenaline pumping to be tired.
If you decide to try it:
Hunting goats in steep terrain is a challenging experience. A light, flat-shooting rifle is a must, as are a pair of boots that are broken in and provide good support. Heavy-for-caliber bullets with good cross-sectional density are crucial, as the projectile has to retain its energy over long distances. Goats up there are typically taken at 300 to 450 yards. Layered clothing, a light but roomy backpack, and a high-capacity water bottle are also essential. Hunters should use the summer to get in shape, and if the outfitter uses horses, they should take some basic lessons to get familiar on how to mount, dismount, steer and stop a horse. It goes without saying that practicing with the rifle you intend to take is critical. Finally, as is the case with all Canadian hunting trips, a Canada JUS-20 form is needed to bring your guns into Canada, and a U.S. Customs Form 4577 is required to bring them back home.
Contact Information:
Shoshone Wilderness Outfitters
1555 Skalkaho Hwy
Hamilton, MT 59840
Phone: 406-375-8400
Email: john@shoshonewilderness.com
www.shoshonewilderness.com
[Editor’s note: The original version of this story was first published in the Spring 2007 edition of Griffin and Howe’s publication, The Gun, and was titled, “Goat Hunting in British Columbia’s Majestic Kootenay Mountains.”]
