Into the Muskwa-Kechika

[MooseDown]

Update July 11 - Just added last part of story. For anyone new reading, here is what the story is about (photo):

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day11Mount_-_Copy.jpg


Hey all.

It's that time year when I begin to dream about hunting. Summer's great, but it just doesn't compare to fall for me.
Last September, I had to the opportunity to head out on a dream hunt in the Muskwa-Kechika with my father-in-law and a buddy and I've been working on a little write-up on it the last while. It's been great to reflect on the hunt and relive some of the memories.

Hope you all enjoy it - oh, and I know it's a bit wonky but I'm telling the story in reverse chronological order. Here's hoping the photos work - first time doing this. MooseDown


DAY 10

We woke early, though not as early as Seymour and Tanner, who had to wrangle the horses from somewhere along the three-kilometer-long river bench. After gulping down a quick breakfast and coffee, we began packing up our sleeping bags and assorted gear. Everything we brought with us, except our rifles, the clothes on our backs, and our empty daypacks had to fit into a single 9”x19”x22” pack-box and weigh less than fifty pounds – no easy task, even when your gear isn’t out of sorts from ten days of use.

We helped the outfitters load up the pack horses with the camp gear, antlers and 864 pounds of boned-out meat that we had carefully weighed out in pack-box pairs the night before; each pair had to be within a single pound of even weight or it would be hard on the horses. And if there was one thing I learned from Seymour and Tanner over the ten days it was this: horses are the only way into or out of this country, so you’d best take good care of them.

And what a country.

I took a moment to glance out at the river one last time. The golden light made its way down the mountain-sides and contrasted with the blue-cool mists hanging above the river. No roads, no sounds but the whinny of a horse and the rush of the river; not a trace of human activity – in ten days we hadn’t seen a single human footprint except our own. I was leaving, but I would never forget this place.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day10Pass2_-_Copy.jpg

When I arrived nine days earlier, I felt like a foreigner – a pretender who didn’t belong. It was wild country – perhaps as wild as it gets – and I felt overwhelmed by one simple fact: I had no business being there. I was 46-years-old, not in the best shape, and used to hunting close to all the comforts of a well-equipped camper and generator. I had never been on a remote hunt before, where help was a satellite call and probably 12 to 24 hours away.

To put it frankly, I was scared. Scared of being in a place where my decisions could have serious consequences and even more scared that I would discover that I just didn’t have what it takes to enjoy a trip like this. As a hunter, I had dreamed of a trip into the wilds of the Muskwa-Kechika for years. I prided myself on believing I had a spark of adventure within that drew me to the unknown.

But maybe I was just fooling myself.

Finally loaded, I mounted Vanilla, my trusty equine companion for the week. She was about as good a horse as I could ask for – calm, sure-footed, and friendly. Well, there was that incident with a tree on the first day, but we sorted that out with a little advice from Tanner.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day10Vanilla1_-_Copy.jpg

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day10Vanilla2_-_Copy.jpg

Without a word, we started up the trail to the pass and home.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day10Pass_-_Copy.jpg

[srupp]

Hmm absolutely incredible location. Adventure..results.thank you kindly for sharing..I appreciate your photos replay of your trip
thank you
Srupp

[MooseDown]

Thanks srupp - will be posting more of the trip later. Glad the photos are working

[Rackmastr]

This is an interesting approach to telling a story! Looking forward to the adventure!

[LBM]

Sounds like you had a great adventure, very nice country. Hope you put up a few more pics of the moose. Which outfittere were yoiu with.

[MooseDown]

Thanks Rackmastr! It was definitely a trip of a lifetime.

[MooseDown]

LBM - Don't worry...more pics coming! We were with a transporter - Steamboat Mountain Outfitters.

[MooseDown]

DAY 9

“There aren’t many jobs you can do with a horse, a rifle and an axe.”

I had to grin at the statement. It was, of course, a massive over-simplification, but it also rang dead true. I stared into the small fire, it’s reassuring warmth caressing my face, while thoughts flitted through my mind: horses and trails and rivers and mountains and the two men who sat across the fire from me.

Seymour and his son Tanner own and operate Steamboat Mountain Outfitters. They are transporters – a term used by the province for service providers who assist in area access, camp supplies, game retrieval and management, and basically anything that doesn’t involve guiding. If you didn’t know they were father and son, it wouldn’t take long to figure it out. It took a while for me to get to know them as they are both quiet types. But that’s one of the great things about sitting around a campfire – somehow the stories just come and you get know each other. And boy, do they have stories. If you get the chance, ask Tanner about the sheep hunt from hell. I won’t spoil it for you – it’s just too good.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day9Fire1_-_Copy.jpg

Seymour and Tanner are steeped in bush-craft and know their horses inside out. What I most appreciated about them, though, was their quiet confidence. They were up early every morning to get breakfast on the go and were gone from camp all day clearing horse trails, checking on the horses or exploring new country. I couldn’t help but think they are part of a dying breed of true mountain men, and if something went wrong out here in the wild, they were the kind of guys I’d want around.

All too soon, it was time to head to bed. I slept like a log each night, even though my air mattress was pretty thin. That's the beauty of being truly tired - you can sleep through damn near anything.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day9WallTent1_-_Copy.jpg

DAY 8

We split up today, with my in-shape friend heading high and my father-in-law and I staying low. We were hunting, sure, but in a halfhearted, just-enjoying-the-day sort of way. More like meandering through the wilderness and taking it all in.

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We spent some time in the mid-afternoon cleaning the skulls and trying to wash out the brain cavities. It was my first time doing this as I've never shot anything worth mounting before. It is detailed work and I learned a lot that I can hopefully use in the future.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day8MooseRiver_-_Copy.jpg

[Weatherby Fan]

wow such beautiful country, cant wait to go back myself, thanks for sharing your hunt with us

[Fella]

Ugh that country is gorgeous. Makes me want summer to end right now and the temps to drop!

[floden]

This story is great already

[MooseDown]

Thanks floden! Will get Part 3 up today - hopefully this morning

[MooseDown]

DAY 7

If I remember anything about this trip, it will be this morning’s five-kilometre ride down river to retrieve my friend’s moose. It was one of those magical mornings in the mountains. The mists clung to the steel-blue river and mountain sides while the sun lit the south-facing poplar slopes with veins of gold. The fact that I was riding through the river on horseback for downed game didn’t hurt, either. We rode in silence, feeling the blood in our veins and the goodness of being alive.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day7Riding2_-_Copy.jpg

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day7Riding_-_Copy.jpg

When we got closer to the moose, we dismounted and fanned out in a semi-circle, guns loaded and ready in case a grizzly was on it. My friend and my father-in-law had gutted it the previous night and made the long trek back to camp in the dark. I had felt guilty for being in camp with a full belly and a warm fire, so I stayed up to keep their dinner warm until they returned around midnight. I wasn’t worried about them – they are both experienced in the woods. The only difference here was the wild remoteness of the country. Okay, I was a little worried.

Thankfully, there was nothing on the moose, and we set about processing it for transport back to camp on the pack horses.

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http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day7Moose2_-_Copy.jpg


DAY 6 & DAY 5

We hunted. It was glorious.

We debated about spiking out further up into the mountains, but in the end decided to stay down low, and it wasn’t only because we were lazy – we were seeing plenty of sign where we were, and travelling to a spike camp would eat up valuable hunting time.


DAY 4

It was pouring. A curtain of water fell off the tarp, cascading down like a waterfall just beyond my boots, which were propped up on a stump in front of me. It was pissing out. I took a sip of my coffee and put down my book. As I looked out on the miserable deluge, my thoughts drifted to my hunting partners, who were high on the ridge a couple thousand feet above camp. They were out in the downpour, totally exposed. Perhaps they could find a tree thick enough to hunker down under, though I doubted any tree could keep out the heavy rain.

As I sat sipping coffee, warm and dry, I almost felt guilty - almost. After all, I had earned a little rest. I had spent the entire previous day dealing with my downed game. I could just see the coloured tarps it hung under at the edge of camp through the mist and rain. I was tired and just didn’t feel the need to trek up the mountainside. I had my animal and if I took another one, it would mean my partners couldn’t get one, as we only had so many horses available for transport. One animal each; that was the rule, unless previously negotiated and more horses brought along.

Of course, my father-in-law had also spent most of the previous day dealing with my animal, as he was close by at the time and helped process it for the trip back to camp. And our other hunting partner had helped out once he was back from his hunt. Guilt churned a bit more in my gut, but I washed it down with more coffee and the thought that I would go help if they called down on the radio with news of success up above. Guilt successfully squashed, I warmed my coffee and picked up my book – I was getting to the good part.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day4Coffee_-_Copy.jpg

[Ron.C]

awesome write up and photos. Absolutely love it!!!!!

[Beachcomber]

Epic. Thank you.

[REMINGTON JIM]

Awesome story and trip ! Thanks for Sharing ! :smile: RJ

[MooseDown]

Thanks all. I'm enjoying putting it all together. It's amazing how much you forget that comes back to you when you stew on it a bit.

[LBM]

Yes great recap so far, so what other kinds of wildlife did you see. you just bump into the moose, spot and stalk, call them in.

[Pre64]

Thanks all. I'm enjoying putting it all together. It's amazing how much you forget that comes back to you when you stew on it a bit.

You sure know how to build the suspense! Looking forward to the next posts!

[MooseDown]

Yes great recap so far, so what other kinds of wildlife did you see. you just bump into the moose, spot and stalk, call them in.
Hi LMB - we saw a few elk and a number of mountain goats (we could have gone after a nice billy if we had wanted to - he was probably accessible, though it would have been brutal). There was also caribou sign around, though we never actually saw any. For the moose, they were definitely responding to calls - my buddies came stomping out of the bush behind him after he called. Mine was - well, I'll put the story of that up later today.

[Arctic Lake]

Great read ! Thanks for posting !
Arctic Lake

[MooseDown]

DAY 3

I had that feeling. You know the one I’m talking about - like you just have to get somewhere, and get there quick. It had happened to me once before, on a snowy morning’s deer hunt, and it had resulted in the largest white-tail buck I have taken. I wasn’t about to ignore it this time.

After crossing the river, I made my way slowly up a game trail towards the base of the looming mountain ahead. It was heavy timber, still dark and cool from the night. I went slowly, peering ahead and behind through the gloom for any sign of movement. Judging by the game trails, there were a lot of animals moving around in this valley.

I stopped when I spotted a dark face of rock coming down to meet the rushing stream off to my right. It was a pinch-point, where two steep ravines came down from high above and met with the larger valley. This is where I wanted to be. Now all I needed was a place to sit and hide.

Crack.

I turned my head at the sound behind me. It didn’t take long to identify the source. Antlers were moving through the shadowed trunks, angling toward me.

Slowly, I bent down onto a knee and raised my binoculars. It was a moose, its dark body blending into the shadows while the off-white antlers seemed to float along unsupported. The regulations in the area required three brow tines or ten points on a side – it took me about three seconds to see that this one was legal.

Forcing myself to move slowly, I put down my binoculars and raised my rifle. I didn’t want to spook it, though it soon became clear that it had no idea I was there. Either that or it was committing suicide by hunter. The moose continued walking towards me, completely unconcerned, giving me plenty of time to double check the tines. Steam wafted out it’s nose in the cool, moist air. It just kept coming. Finally, at about sixty yards, it stopped and turned broadside.

I shot.

It promptly turned around and presented its other side. I shot again, and down it went.

Just like that, it was over.

I tried to settle my breathing before heading over. The moose had passed before I even got there.
The largest moose I had taken up to that point was a spike-fork bull, so I was a little overwhelmed when I walked up to this one. I took a moment to appreciate the animal and the entire morning. From the moment I woke up, I felt like today was the day. It was one of those hunts that just seemed meant to be and I wondered at it all.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day3Moose2_-_Copy.jpg

After cutting my tag, I checked my GPS. Six hundred ten meters from camp, as the crow flies. Crazy.

I got on the radio with my father-in-law.
“Moose down!”
“Yeah! Big one?”
“Not bad.”
I grinned, looking forward to the moment he came up the trail and laid eyes on the monster before me.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day3Moose4_-_Copy.jpg

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[weed782]

Outstanding! Congrats. and thanks for telling the tale and posting the pics.

[LBM]

Great looking bull, great pics as well

[264mag]

Very nice bull. We all know that “feeling” when it’s the right day.

[MooseDown]

Thanks for all the great comments. FYI - still two days left to tell, so keep checking back!

[MooseDown]

Day 2

First day of hunting! We were up well before dawn – well, my father-in-law was up well before dawn, so were, too. The outfitters had breakfast and, most importantly, coffee ready by the time we were dressed and had our gear sorted. We gulped it down by the small fire and made our plan for the day.

We decided to stick together and head up river for the morning hunt. The area was new to us and we figured it was smart to stay local until we got the lay of the land. We would come back for lunch, then head up the mountain in full daylight for the afternoon hunt if things weren’t promising riverside

The morning was eerie quiet – no motors to be heard – just the river, which roared or hushed depending on how far the game trail we followed veered away from it. We made it to a promising gravel bar where the trail neared the river. From the tracks, it looked like moose and elk were using the spot as a river crossing. We spread out and hunkered down for a few hours, hoping to see something wade across the shallows, but nothing showed itself. We headed back to camp before lunch, eager to head up the steep mountainside to the bench above for the afternoon and evening.

Before the trip, we were warned to be prepared to hike up steep mountainsides to access the best areas for game. I had diligently (for me, at least) worked out to prepare my body as best I could. In hindsight, I could have worked out a bit harder. Maybe three or four times harder. Between the ride in the day before and the punishing 2000-foot vertical climb with rifle and daypack, I was so tired when I reached the saddle that it was a few minutes before I could really enjoy the astounding view. A sort of low scrub brush splashed the mountain slopes red and patches of alpine fir stood out green-black against it. Mountains lay in sawed ridges all around.

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At the saddle, my father-in-law went one way up onto an adjoining ridge, while my friend and I went the other up a larger mountain slope. As we climbed higher, the view just got better and better, and soon we found ourselves looking down onto a heavily treed bench. It was perfect. I settled in lower down, while my ridiculously in shape hunting partner went higher still to act as a spotter. I told myself it was because he had the spotting scope and the bigger rifle, but we both knew it was because I was dying and he was barely winded.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day2Bench5_-_Copy.jpg

Once in position, we did a radio check, then settled in to wait for evening, when the animals would be most active. Cloudbursts mixed with sun drifted along the ridges and produced an incredible rainbow right over the ridge my father-in-law was on. I had a brief thought that maybe he would find a pot of gold.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day2Rainbow2_-_Copy.jpg

Every half hour or so, my buddy would let out an elk call. An hour or so later, I heard a cow elk call that suddenly changed to a moose call.

Well, that was weird, I thought. The radio crackled.

“Moose coming through the trees toward you! He’s big, but not sure if he’s legal yet!”

I trained my binoculars on the bench in front of me, and was rewarded with a glimpse of black and some antler in a tiny opening in the trees. He let out another cow moose call.

“He’s coming! Get ready!”

After another few tense seconds came the words I was looking for.

“He’s legal! He’s legal! Still headed your way. Get ready!”

I got my gun up and found a comfortable position leaning over my pack, waiting for the moose to step out of the trees. But I never got the chance to see him again.

At that moment, a little bush plane came humming up the valley to our left, just below us and right about even with the moose. It wanted nothing to do with the noisy plane, or maybe it decided the strange elk-moose calling up on the ridge wasn’t right. Either way, it turned tail and headed straight back into the deep bush, not to be seen again. We sat until dark, hoping he would pop back out again, but he never did. We met back up with my father-in-law at the saddle and headed through the blackness to camp, far down in the valley below.

A good meal in our bellies and a warm fire soon had us feeling better about the situation, and we all agreed that seeing a legal moose on the first day of hunting was a good sign of things to come! Besides, sometimes these things happen for a reason - you never know what the next day might bring.

[MooseDown]

Day 1

After months of planning, packing and repacking, today was the day. We headed out to Seymour and Tanner’s place for a home-cooked breakfast and a little get to know each other time. After all, we were headed into the wilds, and as newbies to remote hunting we would rely heavily on the expertise of our outfitters. We had met them the previous evening while getting our saddles fitted and meeting our horses for today’s long ride in. After breakfast, we helped stow the saddle boxes into the trucks, then marveled at the process of loading the horses into the two horse trailers.

North-west of Fort Nelson, at the foot of the northern Rockies, we unloaded the carefully weighed pack boxes and laid them out in colour-coded pairs for their respective mounts. It was fascinating to watch them being loaded on the patiently waiting horses. We helped as best we could, which amounted to lifting them up and holding them in place until Tanner or Seymour secured them properly.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day1HorseTrailer_-_Copy1.JPG

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day1Red_-_Copy.jpg

I was re-introduced to Vanilla, my sure-footed and trusty companion for the trip. I felt lucky to have her – she was calm and steady and named for her beautiful colour. I slid my rifle into the scabbard and tied my rain jacket behind the saddle. We were ready. I mounted up, rather less gracefully than I had hoped, and fell into line as we rode along the highway ditch for a way. A car stopped to take some photos of us; we must have been quite a sight – thirteen horses in a pack train, like something out of another time. We turned into the woods and said goodbye to civilization for the next ten days.

http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/Day1Vanilla_-_Copy.jpg

After entering the trees, Vanilla promptly rammed my knee into a tree. It hurt like a bugger. Tanner, watching from behind, let me know that she was testing me, to see how close she could get to the trees, as she would have to do less work if she didn’t have to go around them more carefully. He advised me to push off sideways from the next tree she got close to, which would throw her off balance. Apparently, horses hate that. I gave it a shot, and sure enough, with a snort of resignation, Vanilla began to carefully wind her way along the rough trail, giving plenty of clearance for my knees. We had come to an understanding, and I honestly couldn’t have asked for a better horse. I’d pick her again in a heartbeat.

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With every bump and turn of the trail, I was more and more thankful for the riding I had done before the trip. Of course, the trail riding I had done was on actual trails. Smooth, flat, and maybe a few trees along the edge. We were following game trails. Branches lashed out at our faces, the horses sunk in muck and leaped over small rivulets unexpectedly. On steep ups or downs, we would get off and lead the horses. I was thankful to get off and use some different muscles for a while. I was just as thankful to get back on Vanilla, because the new muscles were soon tired and sore, too.
This rythmic pain continued for eight hours, minus a quick lunch break and a couple rest breaks for the horses. Up passes, through valleys, and along ridges, we followed Seymour with blind faith that he knew where he was headed. Finally, in the late afternoon, Seymour announced that we were getting close. I have never been so thankful to see a camp in my life.

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Of course, the work didn’t end there. We had to unload and take care of the horses, then get ourselves sorted in the wall tent that was to be our home away from home. But soon we were fireside, stuffing ourselves with the first of many fabulous, well-earned dinners. It wasn’t long before the dishes were washed and, exhausted as we were, everyone agreed to call it a night.

When I laid my head down on my make-shift pillow (my sleeping bag stuff-sac filled with my jacket), I let the reality of it all sink in. I was out here in the true wilderness, far from home and far from help. I was out of my comfort zone and out of my league. My fatigued mind flitted like a butterfly through various versions of ‘what the hell am I doing here?’, before finally settling on one final thought before I drifted off.

I can’t wait for morning.

[Buchaneer]

Thanks for telling the story. Makes me want to do it all over again! A trip of a lifetime that we have dreamed of for many years. So grateful we could do it together!
.

[MooseDown]

Thanks for telling the story. Makes me want to do it all over again! A trip of a lifetime that we have dreamed of for many years. So grateful we could do it together!
.
Yep! We’ve certainly had some adventures. The first time you asked me to come hunting, I wasn’t sure I was coming back...

[nature girl]

MooseDown a great story. I liked how you told your hunting adventure that would be a very cool way to hunt for moose. Thanks for taking the time for writing it up and the pictures were great to.

[browningboy]

Did you rent the horses or a buddies?

[MooseDown]

Did you rent the horses or a buddies?
We went with Steamboat Mountain Outfitters - they are transporters, so no guiding but they have all the horses and the camp equipment. You have to have your own tags, so pretty much BC residents only.

[MooseDown]

MooseDown a great story. I liked how you told your hunting adventure that would be a very cool way to hunt for moose. Thanks for taking the time for writing it up and the pictures were great to.
Thank-you! It was definitely the trip of a lifetime. Of course we are already talking about going again someday...