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As I sat in my living room, it was a beautiful fall Sunday morning on September 16, 2012. Back then, we would have been gearing up for elk camp gitty as school children, but one hunt that early fall was already complete.
It was August 14, somewhere between phone calls for work and personal life, as we were in the middle of a move, it hit hard... “Drawn!” Drawn, as in resident goat drawn! Drawn, as in lottery 0.2% chance drawn! Drawn, as in once-in-a-lifetime drawn!
Even before I thought about asking, my friend Steve was hiking the highest peaks of Lightning Ridge taking pictures, checking access, finding base camp, and looking for white dots on the side of the mountains.
Living in Grande Cache that summer, made him a very valuable resource. What made it better was that he was already asking his dad to borrow his horses to go on this once-in-a-lifetime hunt.
The phone calls and lists became longer and longer until we set a date on September 9, 2012 to embark on our journey.
Sam and I met Steve at the staging area around 1:00 pm. I saw the four horses he had brought and my heart began to pound. This was it; the hunt was actually going to happen!
The horses included on this trip were Sasha, Dancer, Nugget and Kahlua. Loading up Sasha and Dancer as the packhorses, and Kahlua and Nugget as saddle horses, we didn`t hit the head trail of Lightning Ridge until 4:30 pm.
Right from the start we had packing problems. The loads were shifting and repacking the horses several times on the trail led us to believe original base camp was out of the question. Just as it was getting dark, we came upon a spring and a somewhat flat camping spot; this was the best we could find, so we set up camp in the dark. It was just in time because as soon as we set up the tent, the rain and snow came down.
The next day brought more snow and wind in the morning. We made it to our desired base camp in good time having Nugget and Dancer packing the rest of the way just fine. Setting up the tent and kitchen, we were able to beat the weather again, as it began to snow again that night, quite a bit harder this time.
The next morning brought a good skiff of snow. We then went for a look across the Black Cliff Ridge in desperate view of something white. The trip was made when we found what we were looking for. Using Sammy’s Spotting Scope, we were able to confirm the sight our binoculars couldn’t... goat! Now, the only burning question we had was how do we get over there? He seemed so close yet so far, as the cliff plunged several hundred feet on one side across the valley bottom to just as sharp a ridge on the other.
After much discussion and strategy on the stalk, the only answer was up and around. We decided to rest up, find more precious water, and let the horses graze for the afternoon while we prepared for a grueling next day.
We set off in the morning on September 12 and started the hike up. The wind was fierce, as we stopped for a rest and photo shoot at the top. That moment was one of the greatest experiences of my life. On the way down around the other side, we continued to ride the ridge to the northeastern aspect that we had set in mind. Walking about 100 feet down this slope, we came upon an oasis in the harsh environment of the mountains. It was green, lush, and warm. Losing some clothing layers, we watched several marmots playing on the hillside. It was a paradise for life to exist and one of which is barely visited by humans, it was a humbling experience.
With our stalk in mind, we continued down the slope side. As we walked through the trees, we found a spot to stash our backpacks and begin the final stalk. As we prepared, Sam pointed out the sheep and goat hair along the trees. It was a great indicator of things to come.
We began our final stalk with myself leading the charge. It didn’t last very long, as only 25 yards into our journey, I peeked around a tree bluff and lo and behold, I saw him! Dashing quickly back, I regained my composure but my face told the full story to Steve and Sam, as I ducked for cover.
Slowly regaining a steady heartbeat, Sam set up the spotting scope and Steve ranged the goat into sight with my range finder. What I heard I didn’t believe, 201.6 yards it read. I couldn’t believe it! It was then that I got my 7mm Rem Mag ready. Sliding the bolt back, I grabbed my clip armed with four 154-grain bullets. As I steadied my sight, I adjusted my objective to 200 yards. Making the final adjustments with my bipod, I was steady and ready for a shot if the goat was a billy. After several agonizing minutes, we got the confirmation needed that it was a legal billy. The moment will stand forever in my mind; the perfect stalk deserves a well-placed shot. Squeezing the trigger, I was confident thanks to my four boxes of practice at the range weeks prior.
The shot echoed against the mountain ranges. Sammy confirmed it from behind his spotting scope... hit!
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| Ryan, Sammy and Steve with Ryan’s Alberta goat. |
As we celebrated, we were conscious of the 1000-foot drop lingering only 10 feet away from us. The hunt was over and the work began. Climbing to the other side of the creek where the goats were, we found the billy in an old burn not 50 yards from where he was shot.
After field dressing the goat and preparing for the hike down, we decided to go along beside Davey Creek and find our way back to the trail. It was 4:00 pm and we had little time to spare to get back to base camp before dark.
After one of the most memorable days of my life, we reached base camp at dusk. The GPS read that we had traveled roughly 12 horizontal kilometres throughout the day—I would have guessed 100.
Packing up the horses the next morning was a surreal feeling of an accomplishment that few ever get to enjoy in Alberta. I am forever grateful on my luck and that I was able to succeed on my journey made the experience all the sweeter.
I owe many thanks to everyone that I talked to and the advice given to me to make this hunt a success. Special thanks go out to Sam Genge for embarking on this trip with me. Also, thank you to the Duncan family for letting us borrow their horses for this trip, it was a dream come true. Finally, to Steve Duncan, without his tireless work and dedication, I would have never enjoyed this hunt the way I did with two good hunting buddies. ■
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