This has been an incredible journey so far, I know 67 is not the best year in your life to start goat hunting, but it works for me. I've already had an unbelievable goat hunt/season. If it ended tonight I would feel my tag is FULL. I've been in goats on every hunt, seen as few as three and as many as twenty on a hunt. Each one was special. I've never been in goat country, because I never thought I had a reason to go. Well I know two things. One, I will never draw another goat tag. And two, I will never quit going to goat country, it's incredibly special, I love it so.



First Report from the Field:

Just an update on the goat hunt. About 10 days ago we started getting rain, which turned to snow in the high country. I'd been hunting about 6600 ft to 7500 feet (our highest peaks are about 8000) but the snow drove me (and the goats) down. I was told that when winter sets in, the goats move off the two mountains I had been hunting and drop down into "Rock Lake" to get out of the weather and fine easier food.

I'd been wanting to hunt the rock creek drainage so this was a good time to give it a look. I'd been up rock creek, which is about 3 miles to the last water crossing before you start the last hike to the lake. That last climb, is about three quarters of a mile and a thousand foot gain to the lake. It's a tough hike, but a half way decent trail will get you up there. My concern was, you get in that far, kill a goat and your not getting the goat and all your gear out in one trip. Extra trips into this country with snow is a real hump to say the least. My hunt-in partner John had the answer, "Horses"! It seemed his dad had a bunch. So at dark-0-thirty last Saturday, John, my friend and hunting partner and Les, my friend from Bozeman and I were saddled up and heading up the Rock Creek trail, in the dark, in a rainy mist and a pretty crappy foggy inversion, not quite what we were hoping for. But up the trail we went, and made it to the last water crossing about good light, and headed up the switch backs that would take us to Rock Lake. About half way up all of us were mighty thankful for those horses, it's a steep hard climb when your packing your gear, rifle, recruve bow, spotting scope and such. Nothing we couldn't have done, but the horses sure made it sweet and easy. We were almost to the top when we broke out of the inversion/fog. It was pretty cool looking back down in the valley we'd just come up and seeing the foggy cloud cover, we were now in blue sky's, sun and SNOW! We made the final climb and crested right at Rock Lake. What a picture! The lake sit's at 5000ft in a huge basin, with mountains on three sides that shoot up to 7500feet.

There was 6 to 8 inches of snow there, but you didn't have to climb far and you were knee deep and getting deeper the further up you went. It was incredible! We set up the spotting scope, got out our bino's and started glassing. The lake is about a mile long with a pass at the far end of the lake, that was where we were expecting to spot some goats. We hadn't been there 15 minutes and the wind started blowing the fog from down below into our basin. In about another 15 minutes you couldn't see 50 yards in any direction. Ok, this will burn off or blow out the way it came, we'll just have to wait it out. Well the wind did just that, blew the fog right out...almost...then changed directions and blew it right back in. This went on for hours, we were sure it would clear, but about two that afternoon, I said let's bag it, this is what we're going to have all day. So we loaded our gear, packed the horses and started down the switch back, a little discouraged, but still enjoying the incredible country. By the time we got off the switch back we were out of snow and starting the long trip back down the canyon.  The canyon sides are super steep and cliff'y , but completely bare of snow. As we rode along I was looking at the cliffs and said, you know if I were a goat, this is where I'd be, not up at the lake in the snow. We didn't go another 200 yards and I spotted what looked to be a goat. We tied off the horses and started glassing. Sure enough, there was a goat, then another and then another. We watched the cliffs as we worked our way on foot on down the trail. We were starting to see more and more goats, yep, this is where they were wintering. We checked the terrain out for how we could get up into the cliffs and made note of where we were seeing the goats. Then John said, "hey Ron, I think you need to look at this one". John had been checking out some of the goats with our spotting scope. I took one look and knew I'd found my Goat. "My old, horse faced, long horned Billy of a Lifetime Goat".

He was way up the mountain, where he should be. He was looking regal and out of reach, also like he should be.Our last sighting was at a pretty good goat at about 300 yards, but he was not "The Goat", tempting, but not the old horse face Billy that I wanted. As the day was starting to get on, we decided to move on out. I was sure we would find them where we left them the next day. We did.

Ron Thomas is a member of the Sitka Family.  He recently completed his first Goat Hunt.  Stay tuned for three more reports from the field to hear how his hunt ended.

For most of us, there was an important someone who helped ignite our passion for hunting.  It may have been your father, your best friend, maybe your Grandpa... but whoever introduced you to hunting gained a special place in your memory and in your heart.  Below, we hear from Kendall Martin and her mentor, Dan Harrison.  Kendall recently took her first elk and it was the encouragement and guidance of Dan that led her to this accomplishment.

Congrats Kendall on a beautiful elk!  And many thanks to Dan and individuals alike who are passing the torch and introducing newcomers to this lifestyle we love so much.



Some of you know me, most don't. I'm Dan Harrison from Colorado Mountain Adventures and The Best and Worst of Tred Barta. I have introduced over 300 youths to hunting in my short outdoor career. During this time I have had the pleasure of meeting a few select youth hunters. One particular young lady I want everybody to meet is Kendall Martin. I have had the great fortune to be able to take her on three big game hunts. Throughout these hunts she had excelled in all aspects of hunting. This young lady will and should be a leader in this industry. She shines in the face of adversity! I am so honored to introduce you to Miss Martin. You go girl!

- Dan Harrison



The opportunity to get to go on this elk hunt was in itself, a fun adventure, but to shoot my first bull elk also, now that's an experience! I'd never been so excited to do something like this before! I can still see it, the bull was calmly walking through the aspen, Dan whispered to get ready and sight him in. The next thing I heard him say was "shoot him." Not two seconds later, I shot the elk! This was an experience of a lifetime. I couldn't have done it without a mentor like Dan.

- Kendall Martin

I had the pleasure to spend a week hunting elk in Montana with Sitka Athlete Mike Mitten this September. We enjoyed a string of nights around the campire, most with fresh campfire roasted grouse. One of the nights, after a long day of chasing bugling bulls, Mike agreed to answer a few questions on his passion.... bowhunting whitetail deer. Mike lives in Illinois and learned woodsmanship early on during camping and fishing trips with his father and through Boy Scouting where he earned the highest rank of Eagle. Mike is a dedicated member of a research team that discovers new treatments for cancer. He cut his bowhunting teeth on the family’s vacation property and surrounding Chequamegon National Forest in north central Wisconsin. His passion for bowhunting whitetail deer is offset each year by annual solo bowhunting adventures to distant western states, Canada, or Alaska. Over the years, Mike has frequently shared his stories and experience by authoring articles published in hunting magazines such as North American Whitetail, Traditional Bowhunter Magazine, Trad Archers World and Bow and Arrow Hunting. Mike attributes his life’s passion for the outdoors and bowhunting success to an understanding family. He is now able to teach his own children and help them accept the stewardship and responsibility each generation has for conservation of our natural resources. Mike’s contribution through the eyes of a solo hunter with a video camera in one hand and a bow in the other have enabled him to be one of the co-producers of Primal Dreams and Essential Encounters, along with his two brothers Mark and David Mitten, and Gene and Barry Wensel (www.brothersofthebow.com). He has also published his fist book, One with the Wilderness (Passions of a Solo Bowhunter). Mike is a member of a Sitka’s Athlete Staff and is a member of Wensel/Mitten Productions

Stay tuned for the next interview "Whitetails and Layering"!!!

David

One of  my fondest memories, is of the first time I ventured into the woods with my father to go hunting.  Actually it was just to scout an area my Dad had planned to hunt for whitetails, but all I knew, was that I was “hunting with Dad”. You know, serious business, grown up stuff!

Oh, I had been hunting before…well, mostly I had hung around Elk camp with the hunting wives and other kids deemed too young to venture into the woods with the men.  And sometimes I got to ride along when someone decided to go road hunting, but to me as a young man, it just wasn’t enough to soothe my manly ego. I wanted to go hunting; I wanted to participate in the ancient rights that had fed mankind for centuries, long before the advent of super markets and fast food chains.

And finally on one magical, cold and snowy November morning, I was doing just that; I was hunting with Dad! That morning I got to witness my dad cleanly take a buck with one shot that dropped him in his tracks and learn what it meant to respectfully take the life of an animal that you intend to use as food.

Since that first trip afield with my father, there were many more times when I got to don Hunter Orange and venture out into the woods with him. And eventually I was old enough to have my own hunting adventures; which have taken me from low level Texas hog hunting all the way to the steep and deep back country, chasing more prestigious hooved game.



My father has since passed on; in fact it will be exactly five years this November 25^Thwhich coincidentally happens to be the opening of the late archery season. It’s not too hard to imagine where I’ll be and how I’ll be spending my time.

I greatly enjoy and live for every minute I spend in the woods; whether it’s with a bow in my hand, my beloved 10MM, my dad’s old .30-06 or with just a pack on my back, tying to see what’s over the next ridge. But I would trade it all, just to walk the trails with my dad again and get to hear him tell stories of chasing Whitetails with his old, Bear recurve.

I cherish every memory and all the lessons ever learned from my father; which I give all credit for every accomplishment I’ve ever made as a hunter, whether big or small. It all originated from time spent in the woods with him.

As time goes on, I suppose I’ve become more sentimental. I now realize how important it is to show interest in the younger generations and pass on any knowledge or guidance that one may have. After all, what would the future hold if we never passed on the lessons and skills that our fathers passed on to us?

Traditions have played a very large role in civilization for eons and the tradition of hunting is no less important than any other. The skill of hunting is something useful that, besides teaching a youngster how to put food on the table, teaches a host of other character building lessons that contribute to ones development.

I have no kids of my own to pass on these lessons and skills to, but I do have a “nephew”, the step-son of my best friend, who has always held a special place in my heart. He is now eleven years old, but he has been trying to tag along with his Dad and I every since he was five or so. I have never seen a kid quite like him; he has always been so well behaved and patient while in the woods. In fact at times he would be so quiet that we’d almost forget that he was with us! It wasn’t too long before we realized that he had been bitten by the “hunting bug”. I used to crack up when he would excitedly try to relate some little hunting tidbit that he picked up from one of his favorite hunting shows or magazines.

It was at the age of five that his Dad bought him his first bow; he struggled at first, but things got a whole lot easier once we figured out that he was left handed…! Once he got passed that first hurdle, he was definitely hooked and is very much a natural. He would shoot his bow almost every day after school and now is a very fine bow shot; in fact he’s not a bad rifle shot either.

This year he passed a huge milestone in his young hunting career; he took his hunter’s safety course and also graduated to a bow that is more suited for the big game that fills most of his consciousness asleep or awake. Not wasting any time, he accomplished something that  took me four years to accomplish; taking a turkey with a bow. Only a couple days after I managed to take my first turkey, spot and stalk style, he decided to try to show me up.

I’ll never forget the phone call that I got that night and I’ll never forget the excitement in his voice as he tried to remember every detail of his feat. It was a feat indeed; apparently while he and his dad were hanging some treestands in preparation for his first deer season, a flock of turkeys were heard. He was just itching to test out his new bow and fill his first tag. He asked his dad if he could try for one of the  turkeys, his dad being preoccupied with hanging a treestand, said “sure, why don’t you go kill one of those turkeys.” Eathan, acting quickly before his Dad could change his mind, snuck off in the direction of the increasing turkey ruckus.

He told me that he couldn’t see the turkeys at first, so he decided to try to call them within range. When he told me this, I expected to hear of him using one of the diaphragm calls that I had given him earlier this year…but then he told me that he didn’t have any turkey calls with him, so he had to use “his voice”…!

Like I mentioned before, Eathan is a pretty special young man and has been mimicking calls with his natural voice for as long as I can remember. He said that after he started calling, he still couldn’t see them but  could tell that they were coming closer. It wasn’t long before the first turkeys appeared; a large Tom and a young Jake. I was proud to hear him say that even though the Tom was huge with a long beard, the angle wasn’t quite right, so he decided to take the Jake instead. He started to sneak a little closer because they didn’t seem to want to come any closer, something that turkeys are notorious for, when no turkeys are where “turkeys are supposed to be”.

He finally was busted and the turkeys started to scatter; that’s when he dropped the hammer on the Jake that he had singled out. He said that he watched the arrow slam into the bird, causing him to do a back flip off of the rock he was perched on. He was so excited that he ran back to his Dad to tell him what happened; but of course he was still up a tree hanging a treestand and didn’t quite comprehend what Eathan was trying to tell him. He told Eathan that he better go find him, which sent him excitedly running back to claim his kill.



Hearing his story and seeing him put into practice skills that he learned from watching his Dad and I; makes my heart swell with pride and I feel very thankful that I have the opportunity to have this young man to pass on the skills and traditions that my father passed onto me.



By passing on this figurative torch to youngsters like Eathan, we as hunters keep the fire lit and the traditions that we love and cherish, alive and well for the next generation to come.

If we don’t take an interest in the younger generations today; who will? We as outdoorsmen should take the lead and do our part to shape the generation of tomorrow by keeping the hunting fire alive!