El Jason
Well-known member
Bit of a prologue here. The last couple of months have been an absolute grind. Remodel projects, remodel cost overruns, blown engine on a daughters car, insurance deductibles, and extra shifts/OT to cover all the above have worn me out. It was time for a break. Finn and I headed for the River of No Return country.
Friday the 13th full moon.
I glassed a herd of elk Friday evening, then drove back to my buddy’s cabin and spent the night. He and his hunting partner offered to help pack out if I killed one.
I glassed more Saturday morning and then set up camp.
I took Finn for a grouse hunt. Plenty of Blues, but they weren’t holding at all for a point.
MR Beartooth ready for 0530 departure.
I drank a Cold Smoke and let all of life’s worries slip away. My mind felt totally unplugged for the first time in many weeks. I reveled in the solitude and spoke to God with no distractions.
Opening morning found me descending into the abyss. I heard elk bugling where I had glassed them. Then I heard another. I saw him on a bench. I rushed my shot. I missed him. I tracked him. I shot him. He rolled. And rolled. And rolled. And stopped.
Finn got blood tracking experience.
I notched my tag at 0811.
I’ve never had such a difficult processing job. The loose soil, slope, and deadfall turned this into a nearly three hour CrossFit workout. 1045 and we have bags ready to go uphill. I needed to get it off the east facing slope to the main ridge where I could find shade and wind. It took me five hours to get everything 500 feet up in elevation to the main ridge
Halfway through this five hour pack, I ran out of water. There is absolutely none on this ridge. I hadn’t eaten since 0900, and I choked down a little food. I made the command decision to leave all the meat and hoof it to the truck. I had two miles and 2300 feet of vertical to go. It was very warm, and I knew I wasn’t taking a heavy load out with no water.
Dehydration is a very dark place. My legs were cramping and I’d have to stop and sit. My torso was cramping. I couldn’t swallow. I wasn’t sweating. My skin was red. I knew I was walking a very tenuous line. I kept in the shade as much as I could and kept plodding. I prayed. Three and a half hours later, I reached the trailhead. It was now 1900 hours, six hours since I ran out of water.
I drank. And drank. And drank. I was worried about 1) how my body was going to respond tomorrow and if I would be fully functional and 2) it was much warmer than had been forecasted. I struggle greatly with asking for help. It’s a definite shortcoming of mine. I knew I absolutely needed to take the offer presented to me earlier. I drove the two hours to my buddy’s cabin, drinking water, eating Oreos and cramping the entire way. I drank 3 liters of water during the drive and didn’t stop to pee once.
We returned the next day. It took me less time to come out with a 90 pound pack than it did to simply walk out the day before. Seven hours of packing and we were done. I was humbly grateful, as they had saved me two more days of packing.
I had a plan in place that if my buddies weren’t there I was going to bone everything and break four loads into three days. Thankfully I did have to execute the plan.
This bull came to see us on our first trip in. He posed broadside at 40 yards.
The ridge of despair.
Vistas.
Backroads.
It was a short trip. I don’t feel cheated in any way. God did a hard reset on my mind and outlook. I’m fortunate to have about 250 pounds of meat waiting to be processed.
When a thread comes up about “how much water do I need?” I’ll answer “enough “, because if you don’t have enough it’ll be a really shitty day.
God doesn’t care if I’m a successful elk hunter. He cares what I learn along the way.
Peace my friends.
Friday the 13th full moon.
I glassed a herd of elk Friday evening, then drove back to my buddy’s cabin and spent the night. He and his hunting partner offered to help pack out if I killed one.
I glassed more Saturday morning and then set up camp.
I took Finn for a grouse hunt. Plenty of Blues, but they weren’t holding at all for a point.
MR Beartooth ready for 0530 departure.
I drank a Cold Smoke and let all of life’s worries slip away. My mind felt totally unplugged for the first time in many weeks. I reveled in the solitude and spoke to God with no distractions.
Opening morning found me descending into the abyss. I heard elk bugling where I had glassed them. Then I heard another. I saw him on a bench. I rushed my shot. I missed him. I tracked him. I shot him. He rolled. And rolled. And rolled. And stopped.
Finn got blood tracking experience.
I notched my tag at 0811.
I’ve never had such a difficult processing job. The loose soil, slope, and deadfall turned this into a nearly three hour CrossFit workout. 1045 and we have bags ready to go uphill. I needed to get it off the east facing slope to the main ridge where I could find shade and wind. It took me five hours to get everything 500 feet up in elevation to the main ridge
Halfway through this five hour pack, I ran out of water. There is absolutely none on this ridge. I hadn’t eaten since 0900, and I choked down a little food. I made the command decision to leave all the meat and hoof it to the truck. I had two miles and 2300 feet of vertical to go. It was very warm, and I knew I wasn’t taking a heavy load out with no water.
Dehydration is a very dark place. My legs were cramping and I’d have to stop and sit. My torso was cramping. I couldn’t swallow. I wasn’t sweating. My skin was red. I knew I was walking a very tenuous line. I kept in the shade as much as I could and kept plodding. I prayed. Three and a half hours later, I reached the trailhead. It was now 1900 hours, six hours since I ran out of water.
I drank. And drank. And drank. I was worried about 1) how my body was going to respond tomorrow and if I would be fully functional and 2) it was much warmer than had been forecasted. I struggle greatly with asking for help. It’s a definite shortcoming of mine. I knew I absolutely needed to take the offer presented to me earlier. I drove the two hours to my buddy’s cabin, drinking water, eating Oreos and cramping the entire way. I drank 3 liters of water during the drive and didn’t stop to pee once.
We returned the next day. It took me less time to come out with a 90 pound pack than it did to simply walk out the day before. Seven hours of packing and we were done. I was humbly grateful, as they had saved me two more days of packing.
I had a plan in place that if my buddies weren’t there I was going to bone everything and break four loads into three days. Thankfully I did have to execute the plan.
This bull came to see us on our first trip in. He posed broadside at 40 yards.
The ridge of despair.
Vistas.
Backroads.
It was a short trip. I don’t feel cheated in any way. God did a hard reset on my mind and outlook. I’m fortunate to have about 250 pounds of meat waiting to be processed.
When a thread comes up about “how much water do I need?” I’ll answer “enough “, because if you don’t have enough it’ll be a really shitty day.
God doesn’t care if I’m a successful elk hunter. He cares what I learn along the way.
Peace my friends.
Last edited by a moderator:
Glad you had some great friends willing to help out.
