Echinococcus Granulosus from Wolves

Last fall Ted Bettin took a nice 6x6 behind my house and during field dressing, Randy Holmgren noticed something unusual that we had never seen before. The photo above was taken of the bull's      lungs with thumb tip sized cysts all throughout the lungs. We placed the lungs in a plastic bag and took them to Region Three HQ of the Montana Department of Fish and Game. The biologist was able to immediately recognize it as Echinococcus. I've attached a file below to find out additional, more technical information, but what I've learned in lay men's terms is as follows:

Echincocccus is usually found in canines, has been around for a long, long time and has become much more prevalent in our big game animals since the reintroduction of wolves in to Yellowstone National Park (YNP) and subsequently outside the park in Wyoming, Montana and Utah. Canines are "definitive hosts," meaning the tapeworm's eggs are released from their feces. These eggs are then taken in by rodents and ungulates through the digestion of grasses or other food that has been contaminated. Once the eggs are ingested in the "intermediate hosts," the eggs produce a change that allows it to pass though the small intestine of the animal. Once it passes through the small intestine it proceeds to other internal organs, but predominantly  in the liver and lungs where the cysts will spread and grow. The cycle continues when these intermediate hosts die or are killed and eaten by other animals and the cycle continues on and on and on. Humans can contract Echinococcus Granulosus from handling wolf hides, wolf feces or by coming into contact with the feces or affected hair of their own pets if those pets have been in contact or eaten portions of dead intermediate hosts.

From the below site: Professor Kritsky, Idaho State University wrote:
"Utah had a focus of E. Granulosus during the 1970’s and 1980’s during which time people were dying or undergoing dangerous surgery for the parasite cyst." Professor Kritsky's article can be found at:

http://rliv.com/wolf/Echinococcus%20granulosus%20brought%20in%20by%20wolves.pdf

There are many, many articles regarding this topic and I suggest you do some research and learn as much as you can. In addition to articles regarding Echinococcus , I encourage you to do some research regarding the reintroduction of wolves to the greater Yellowstone. Please read all sides of the arguments to aid you in making an educated opinion as to what it was intended, what it has become and what we should all do about it. And if you happened to come upon my site by accident and fall into the category of ant-hunting, anti-logging, anti-mining, etc, you are in the wrong place I believe they all have their place when done responsibly, and yes, it can all be done responsibly.  To include a well regulated hunting season for wolves to keep their numbers managed in such a manner that "almost" everyone is  happy. And please, if you are from back east, Midwest or west coast,  let the people who live in the Rocky Mountain West do what's right in the states we call "home."

The article below is somewhat dated, but still provides the most comprehensive documentation regarding the reintroduction of wolves to the Rocky Mountain West that I've ever read. You should read it in its entirety to understand the full scope of the information. But, be forewarned, it's long, but interesting.

http://www.yellowstonenationalpark.com/wolves.htm

In 1995-96 they started the reintroduction of wolves into YNP with approximately 31 brought in from Canada. Current conservative estimates of wolves in and around YNP are approximately 1600. In 1995, the Montana Department of Fish and Game issued 2660 anterless elk permits north of YNP,  in 2000-2004 that number was reduced by 51% to 1400. In 2006 the number was reduced to 100, a 96% reduction of anterless elk permits after the wolves were reintroduced in 1995. In 2004, it was determined the YNP elk herd had been reduced from 16,700 in 1995 to 8,300. In YNP, elk comprise 92% of wolves winter diet, the overall kill rates of YNP wolves is estimated at 22 wolves per anum per wolf.

My own personal experience with wolves is limited. We hunted the Taylor Fork drainage's for quite a few years and started just before the reintroduction of wolves into YNP in 1995-1996. We first started seeing wolf sign in that area around 1998-99. At first it was just tracks of a small pack, 3-4 in number. Each year the elk numbers dwindled and when I took my Mountain Goat in that area in 2009, we saw very few elk, but wolf pack tracks throughout the canyon. In  addition, I saw my first wolf track behind my house in 2009. When I called to inform Montana Fish and Game, I was told there were no wolves in that area. In 2010, when Ted and Randy came out from MN to hunt elk, we tried unsuccessfully to locate elk in the National Forest approximately 20 miles from my house. We found little to no sign of elk, but plenty of wolf tracks. We hunted closer to home about a two miles back and again found little elk sign, just wolves, and lots of them.
I believe the original intent of reintroducing wolves into YNP was a good idea, but I also feel that at some point regulations will have to be changed to allow management of wolves not only outside of YNP in Wyoming, Montana and Idaho, but within the park itself.
I read an article once, in which a Bozeman, MT wolf defender opined the eco-systems in and around YNP could handle ten times the current number of wolves. I have no doubt that is true and when  they eat themselves out of house and home, move on to our domestic animals to include cattle, sheep and pets, start feeding on every other predator and then eventually to killing each other. Then our wolves will be somewhat managed, but at what expense? People will try to point out that wolves kill the weak and injured. Do some research and you'll find they often kill just for sport and leave numerous carcasses uneaten and often times still alive but left to die. They are,...a beautiful animal, that needs to be managed in a way that benefits them, our wildlife and ourselves.
Hunt hard
Ron

Jared's Bull

Greg Galloway, my son Jared and I decided to try a new hunting area a few years back and decided on some national forest adjacent to Ted Turner's Double D ranch southwest of Bozeman, MT. We were going in on horses, which meant I had to get up a couple hours prior to leaving to let the horses get some hay in 'em. I have to say that hunting with horses has it's pros and cons. The pros being of course riding rather than walking, being able to get beyond the normal foot hunters and being able to ride out after a long day of hunting. The cons are, they're a lot more time consuming to get ready and you never know what their "idiocy of the day" is going to be.
We would normally have left well before daylight, but since this was a new area that we were not familiar with we headed out after daybreak. We wanted to learn the trails, see what meadows were in the area, look for fresh elk sign and then plan an evening hunt from what we learned. I would suggest you do the same anytime you head into a new area as it makes it much easier to get out when you have some idea what the area looks like in daylight. We rode on a National Forest trail along side the fence line of the Double D, but did not see much fresh sign. We turned around near the top end of the better looking areas and headed back to another ridge line we had noticed on our way up.
We still didn't see much sign on this next ridge, but didn't have any other option than to spend the afternoon next to a fire and wait for that "last best" hour of shooting light to work our way back to the trail head in the hope of finding some elk.
We ate lunch, napped and BS'd around that fire for almost four hours. It doesn't do much good to hunt in the afternoon. You can do some hunting in the timber in their bedding areas, but for the most part, unless you've seen fresh sign to know they are in there, it's a waste of time and you might end up spooking elk from the area. In addition to that, sneaking in on elk in their bedding area is next to impossible in crunchy snow. It's best just to bide your time, as the majority of your elk are going to be taken in the first two hours of morning and the last hour of shooting light in the evening.
It was about 3:30pm when we decided to get ready. We put our gear away, spread the fire out, tore out the hot embers in the fire bed and then filled it up with snow. We started down the trail through the timber and eased our way up to the first meadow, didn't see anything and started on to the next. We got about half way across and Greg decided to take some photos of the Spanish Peak Mountains behind us. He asked Jared and I to get together on the horses so he could get a photo of us with the mountains as a backdrop. Jared and I struggled a bit, trying to get the horses faced towards the camera and as we were doing that, Jared said, "There's an elk." He had spotted an elk about 350 yards behind us, bedded down in the thick timber. We all dismounted and looked it over with binoculars and Jared said, "It's a bull!" I still couldn't make out any horns, but did see a bunch of dead limbs behind it that could have been mistaken for horns. Jared swore he could see the elk move it's head and when it did the "horns" moved too. The bull was bedded down broadside to us and did not seem spooked or nervous at all.
I thought it would be best if Jared and Greg both got good rests and shot at the same time since it was a bit longer shot than Jared had ever taken and the bull was right on the edge of a big steep canyon full of dead fall. Greg said he couldn't really see the bull very well, which he told me later was a little fib, he just wanted Jared to have the bull all to himself.
We got Jared into a good steady prone position with a couple of backpacks to use for a solid rest. The bull was still not spooked so I told him to take his time and when it felt right, to squeeze the trigger nice and slow. Of course, it seemed like forever but finally the shot was taken. I could see the bull try to rise up out of his bed, get halfway, then slide down the hill out of sight. It's fun, as a father, to take your teenage son hunting, see him make a good shot and have him turn to you with a big grin from ear to ear.
We left the horses with Greg and Jared and I headed around a deep draw over to the bull. I tried to get Jared to walk. I did not want him winded when we got to the bull in case he needed to make another shot, but I might has well been talking to the horses. He jogged all the way until I was able to slow him down about 100 yards from where we last saw the bull slide down the hill. When we got to within 75 yards, I made him stop, relax and get his heart rate and breathing under control.
We snuck slowly down the hill, finally spotted him and he was still alive. Jared made one more well placed shot and put the bull down for good.

The most interesting part of this hunt was that the bull was bedded down not 150 yards away from where we had spent the entire afternoon. It had snowed some in the early morning, not much, probably about an inch. That bull's bed had no snow in it, he had been there all day and there's no doubt he heard us, but knew that we could not get close to him before he could bail off the side into the deep wooded canyon. He was old and smart, his ivorys' were worn right down to his gum line. He was also the toughest piece of meat I ever tried to eat.

Most people who have never hunted elk come out west believing that like whitetails, there are elk everywhere that the habitat looks good. Nothing could be further from the truth. Elk are..where the elk are, period. During our last hunt in Ed Hake's old camp (Ed sold the business, but was still guiding on occasion) I did not see an elk for the first five days, not even a cow. On the last evening the day before we were to leave camp I was hunting with guide "Russ" and we were at the top of Middle Ridge. We had hunted all day and were frustrated of another day of no elk, not even much sign. I believe a major part of the reason for lack of elk was that wolves had moved out of Yellowstone National Park into this area in the previous two years and the numbers just weren't there anymore.
We had about another hour of shooting light and had moved to the backside of the ridge to look down into another drainage. It was a beautiful late afternoont for hunting,.... cold, soft snow and just enough of a light breeze to be used in our favor. As we stood there looking into the other drainage, we heard it, a bugle, followed shortly after by another different toned bugle. Two bulls were down in the bottom of that drainage and they were obviously interested in a cow that was in a late estrus.
I've lived in Montana since 1997, hunted there since 1993 and there have only been two times that I've heard bugling during the rifle season. Russ and I looked at each other, both with the same thought. It was late, we did not have time to get to a trail where we could get the horses down into this drainage and this might be my one and only chance for a bull before we had to leave tomorrow afternoon. I looked at Russ and stated the obvious, that I was headed straight down to get into those bulls before we lost our light.
Russ stayed with the horses and I took off over the edge of a very steep slope and into the timber. It was quick getting down, the snow was about knee deep and I managed to do a quick jog to the bottom. Once I got down, I snuck quickly through the timber and stopped every once in a while to get a bearing from the continued bugling. I got to those bulls about two minutes after legal shooting light and the only thing I saw was the bull's horns and ass sliding out of a meadow into the timber.
It took me over an hour to climb back up that slope that had taken me 15 minutes to come down. I found Russ at the top, explained what happened and we headed back to camp.

Russ and I headed back into that drainage the next morning. We had to leave a few hours before daylight as it was a long ride from camp, but when we got near the area, sure enough, we heard bugling. We tied the horses up, made our way into thick timber and as we got close, we were spotted by a couple of cows. The wind was in our favor, so we just held tight for about 15 minutes and listened to a bull bugle from what couldn't have been more than a hundred yards, but we could not see him. The wind had to have shifted slightly, because the next thing to happen was a crash of limbs as the entire bunch headed out. I ran up the small hill as fast as I could, spotted cows charging across a very small meadow and then the bull came through the thin timber in a half run and Russ gave a quick cow call. That bull stopped on a dime, looked over at me and I made the shot.

Montana is tied with Wyoming as the states with the second highest elk herd at about 120K. Colorado still ranks number one with about 280K. Success rates for tagging an elk are highest in WY at 43%, but it's one of the most difficult states in the west to get drawn as a non-resident. Colorado has over the counter elk tags for non-residents and in Montana you have about a 60% chance of getting drawn as a non-resident.and both states have an approximate 22% success rate of filled tags. The drawing ratio in Montana might get higher soon as they have eliminated "outfitter sponsored" tags, which placed those tags into the general drawing, but raised the tag price from an already high $675 to almost $1000 for non-residents. I think the tags will be plentiful, I'm just not sure the general public is going to be willing to buy them all up at that price. I believe the voters of Montana made a mistake by eliminating "outfitter tags" and will suffer the consequences of unfilled tags. For the most part, I don't believe the general public understood this when they voted.
There are not elk around every tree in Montana and for those first time elk hunters who come out west to bag one, be prepared to pay the outfitters price, which will increase your chances many fold. If you come on a "do it yourself hunt," do a LOT of research, get in great physical condition and if you bag a bull, well then, you've really accomplished something.
Hunt hard,
Ron

Horses, A Love-Hate Relationship

I know people who "hunt with horses and put up with 'em," "hunt with horses and love 'em" and "hunt with horses and hate 'em." I guess I fall into the "hunts with horses and loves 'em," but they sure can be a pain in the butt. If you go on a guided hunt, be forewarned that you will most likely be riding "dude ranch" horses. That is, horses that for the most part have been used for summer trail rides for tourists or horses that have been around long enough to know a rider that does not have a clue about riding horses. This usually means trying to ride you under low limbs, rubbing your thighs into trees, stopping for no reason and unwilling to move forward, or constantly walking so slow that they lag 50-100 yards behind the rest, then catch up quickly in a bone-jarring canter. If you don't have any, or much, horseback riding experience, your inner thighs will ache to the point you'll be asking yourself if walking the entire way would not be less painful.

They will get you into places you could not go on foot because of distance and allow you to feel rested enough that you can hunt hard and long when you arrive. They can get you beyond the foot hunters regardless of their physical abilities and make packing that animal out a pleasure, rather than your worst nightmare. They will identify game that is nearby before you have any idea it's there. All horses are good at this, but my mare "Charlie" was exceptional. You could be walking along by yourself or with other horses and Charlie would just stop in mid-stride with both ears pointing directly at whatever sound that caught her attention. Sometimes it was nothing more than a grouse or a coyote, but often it was deer or elk.

On the one hand, horses have incredible intelligence, strike that, I don't believe it's "intelligence" so much as "instincts." And on the other hand they can be as dumb as the saddle on their backs. I have ridden them up the same trail past the same object, be it a boulder, bush or fence post and on any given day they might go wild eyed when they come up to it on the third, fourth or fifth time as if it were a grizzly bear waiting for lunch and they....are lunch.  Just work through it. It might even take you getting off, leading them to it and showing them it's a boulder, bush or fence post.
My son Jake and I were coming off the mountain from an all day elk hunt in a fairly new area. It was dark and I wasn't using my headlamp because I just don't use it unless I have to and horses have great night vision. As we came down to a point in the snow and timber where the trail forked I took the right side fork. Mac immediately balked by stopping and trying to turn around. I fought him a bit and kept him moving down the trail until the trail was blocked by a bunch of dead fall. I turned my headlamp on to find our tracks that we had come in on, but there were no tracks to be found. I let Mac have his head, he turned around, walked back to the fork and took a right on the trail we came in on. Horses "almost" always know where they are and if you are a bit lost and headed "home," they more than likely know where home is.

We had a "fun" horse incident one rainy night in Ed Hake's elk camp. We had all gone to bed in the wall tents, wood stoves were loaded up for the night, most of the BS had died down. If you were not already asleep, you were close to it. And then, all hell broke loose as we listened to horses in an all out stampede past the sleep tents. All of the horses were "secured" in some way or another, hobbles around the front legs, picketed in meadows and inside electric fences.
Horses are herd animals and when one gets scared and takes off then everyone of them that's able is usually right behind them. It doesn't matter that some or most have no idea what they are running from, they just know it's time to get. The last we heard of those that were able to break out was the sound of shod hooves running across the stone of the creek bed, up the other side and back towards safety and "home," which in this case meant the corrals at the "Covered Wagon Ranch," eight miles down the canyon.
Gone, were six of Ed's horses and my two, Mac and Charlie. Like I said, it was a rainy night, unusual this time of year as it would normally be just snow and cold. My guide Dennis and two others saddled up, called on the radio to the Covered Wagon to let them know they had horses headed their way and to please open the gates to the corrals. They made that eight mile ride in the wind and rain to the Covered Wagon where they had a hot cup of coffee, a quick bite to eat and then made the return trip in that dark, windy, rainy night back to camp. They were all tired, but we all hunted that day like nothing happened thanks to Dennis and the others. By the way, the horses spooked that night because a moose wandered into the electric fence, which spooked the horses.
One thing you might want to do if you go on a guided horseback hunt is maybe get some basics with horses. Riding some would help, but more important might be just the basics of saddling, putting a bit in, etc. On my very first trip into Hake's camp I had a guide from Wyoming that was all about being a cowboy  He knew what he was doing around horses and I had no real experience at that time. One night it was pitch black, we'd rode a lot of miles that day and we were coming down a steep slope through the timber. Visibility was nil, but the horses were fine. My guide warned me that I was coming up on a very steep pitch, steep enough that if I'd known how steep it was I'd have probably got off and walked. I put all my weight in my stirrups, leaned way back and gave him plenty of rein. All the preparation didn't do me much good when my saddle slid forward up and over the horses withers, which then threw me head first over his head and down the hill. I can tell you it's not much fun when you have no idea what you are falling into or on to. I landed on my shoulder, hurt like hell, but no worse for wear. If I'd known then what I know now, I'd have double checked that cinch to make sure it was tight before I headed down the hill. You can also check the tightness by throwing quite a bit of weight into the stirrup on one side or the other. If you throw some weight into it and your saddle slides easily in that direction, it needs to be cinched tighter.
Another time, Bill who was guiding, was riding behind Randy Holmgren and myself. I was leading on Mac, followed by Randy on Charlie and then Bill. Now, Bill was a great guide, but did not have much experience with horses. We were on a good flat trail through the timber on a clear, sunny day. I was getting bored with the pace as we headed back to camp and asked Randy and Bill if they minded a lope. I got a thumbs up and off we went. Mac and Charlie both have real comfortable lopes and we were making good time and having fun, .....until we heard a loud, human, yelp. We pulled the horses up, looked back, and there was Bill, on the ground and his saddle was underneath the horse. The saddle was still on and cinched up. Bill had just put too much weight on one stirrup and when the saddle slid left and Bill fell off, it ended up hanging underneath his horse. Again, make sure you check the tightness of that cinch.
There is nothing better than having a horse to pack your elk out. Elk are big animals and horses make it about 500% more enjoyable when it comes to getting that meat off of the mountain. One year, we shot a bull a couple miles from camp. Dennis got on the radio and by the time we got done field dressing and quartering, a couple other guides showed up with pack horses. The bull was shot about 300 yards down a very steep slope and I thought we would have to pack the quarters ourselves to the top of slope. But, they just brought the horses down and we loaded the meat up. We got about half way up and "One Eyed Jack." a tiny, tough little mustang with one eye lost his balance. Before we could do anything to help, he went over backwards and did two "airborne" back flips. We thought surely he'd have a broken leg or some other bad injury, but knew he was fine when we helped him get up, still with his two quarters in the panniers and the first thing he did was reach down and grab a mouth full of grass.
I really do enjoy riding horses and enjoy it just as much out there by myself as I do with friends. There is nothing like riding out of the mountains on a cold, clear night, with a full moon lighting up the snowy meadows like it's the middle of the day. You can see the sparks fly off a rock as the steel horse shoe strikes it and if the wind is not blowing you can often hear the sound of elk running that you spooked out of a meadow. I really am one of those who "hunts with horses and loves it." I hope I can do it just as long as I'm physically able and a couple years beyond that.
Tips for the Day: Make sure those cinches are tight and also while I'm thinking about it. Never leave your rifle unattended in the scabbard on your horse if he's not either tied up short or you've got a good hold of em. If you aren't paying attention, that will usually be the time your horse decides to roll and either do some serious damage to your rifle or at the least, knock your scope out of alignment.
Hunt hard
Ron

My Goat Hunt

As I wrote in the article of "Steve's Goat," Ed and John love being up at the tops of the mountians in "Goat Country." So, when Ed called me up to go spend some time scouting in September when the weather was nice and we did not have to slog through knee, thigh or hip deep snow, I jumped at the chance. I did not think we'd have the opportunity to get to the top once the snow started flying, but turned out I was wrong as you can see by the large photo "At The Top," in the main blog. We also had the opportunity to see a young Griz when we were in Crystal Basin, always a plus.
After our scouting trip, Ed was in the area in October and conditions were good for the actual hunt. We were in there about five days, only saw one average "Billy" and five goats total. We hunted hard that entire time, climbed the mountain every day from various directions, walked across snow covered granite boulder fields (we're talking large truck sized boulders) that we should have broken a leg in but didn't. Crossed snow drifts on 70% slopes in snow up to our chests, while driving our uphill arm into the packed snow to keep us from sliding a couple hundred yards down the mountian. Climbed up an 80% slope on a loose, muddy slide as a shortcut to avoid having to cross the snow covered boulder field so we didn't break those legs. Took our horses in as far back as we could in boulder fields and snow drifts that I would never have attempted without Ed leading the charge. In other words we put just about all we (well, maybe I) had into this goat hunt. It was dissapointing, but it just was not in the cards to fill a tag on that first hunt. We got out of camp as the snow started flying and the plan was for Ed to keep an eye out for goats when he was in there over the next week or two on an elk hunt.
Ed was to call me as soon as he started seeing better numbers of goats on the mountain,which meant it would be time for me to load up my gear, load my gelding "Mac" up and get our butts n there ASAP the next morning. Ed made the call about a week later and said the goats were back so I loaded Mac up and I drove the 50 miles  to his place early the next morning.
We got to the trail head late morning and made the three hour ride into camp. We unloaded our gear and Ed suggested we had enough time to ride into Crystal Basin, which was a good vantage point to check a lot of slopes to see what had moved into the area. This would give us a good idea to form a game plan for the the next days' hunt. It took us about an hour and thirty minutes to two hours to ride in and just as we were coming out of the timbered trail where we could see some bare slopes we immediatey started to see fresh goat tracks down low and not too far off the main trail. As we continued up, Ed spotted goats at the end of those tracks.
They were only four to five hundred yards ahead of us, so we continued on the horses up the main trail through timber that hid our approach for another hundred to two hundred yards. We tied the horses up, I grabbed my rifle and we moved through the timber in the direction we last saw them. As Ed got to the edge of the timber he spotted them all, about twelve or thirteen ewes, lambs and one mature billy. Ed and John were both excited by his body size, his great hair, since it was late in the season (Nov), but they were just a little unsure about his horn length. I think I had already made up my mind that he was the one, regardless of horn length. Like Steve, in the earlier hunt, I knew what I had already gone through in the first hunt and I wasn't too sure that I wanted to go through it all again in the hopes of getting another inch.
OK, here's where I have to admit failure, but all's well that ends well, and this did. The excuse:  I used my best long range rifle on the first hunt, a Remington 700 Sendero, 300 Weatherby fitted with a 6.5x20 Leupold with a custom "Premier" reticle. But you know what? That setup weighs close to 11 pounds and after five days of packing it to the tops, I decided to pack my old, "usually trusty" Mauser 98, 300 Weatherby. In hind sight, I should have taken my "most trusty" 300 win mag. My son had borrowed the old Mauser and while I had sighted it in, three inches high at 100 like I like, I did not check it after I got it back. The billy was only a bit over 200 yards away, piece of cake right? Wrong. I was standing and using a large boulder as a rest. It wasn't a great rest, being a bit too tall and awkward, but we'd been spotted and the goats were starting to move out. And after all, 200 yards?
Ed was looking through his binos and on my first shot said, "high, five inches over this back!" That flustered me a bit, but the billy just stood there and I needed to get the second shot fast before he got smart and took off. I dropped the reticule to low under the lungs where his heart would be, took the shot and Ed said, "high, just over his back!" Ed could see it all as the bullets were smacking a rock cliff right behind the billy. This was turning into a worst case hunt real fast, especially since I could feel the blood running from my forehead, down my nose and across my lips. Between the angle of my rest, a quick second shot and the recoil of that light 300 Weatherby, I had also managed to do a pretty good job of scoping myself. I lined up for another shot on that billy that still hadn't moved, put the cross hairs on "air" just under his chest and let loose with another round. And then, the billy went down.
Once it was over and the high fives and hoots were completed, it all seemed just a bit anti-climatic. I was expecting another four, five, six or seven more days of hard hunting to fill my tag and now it was over on the first day of scouting. But, you know what? It did not bother me one bit. He wasn't the biggest goat on the mountain, but he was my goat and had just average 8 3/8th long horns. It would have been great if he'd had nine or ten inch horns, but in my opinion it's the hair on a Mountain Goat and the mountains you find them in that makes them a special trophy. If I remember right, I believe Ed mentioned that my goat was the latest in the season he'd ever guided in his 20 successful hunts and the hair certainly proved it.
If you ever go on a goat hunt try to hunt in an area that allows you to get in and take him as late as possible and be prepared to pay the expense of a full body mount because nothing shows a goat trophy like a full mount. Do some shopping around for your taxidermist unless you've got one you like and are willing to pay whatever he charges. Ed and I used my taxidermist, Justin Sabol of Bridger Taxidermy in Bozeman, MT for our full mounts and paid $1500. My brother in-law used his taxidermist in ND and paid around $3000, but we are all happy.
Tip of the Day? You guessed it, double check that your rifle is still hitting where you expect it to..
Hunt hard
Ron

Calibers

Thank God  I don't have too many people watching my site yet, as nothing gets hunters and shooters more worked up than arguing about the pros and cons of their favorite caliber compared to someone else's . When it comes right down to it, use any caliber you want because everything out there from your grand dad's old 30-30 to the 30-378 will knock down almost any big game animal in North America under the right conditions. I'm not going to get into the arguments with O'Connor fans who believe the .270 Winchester is the best, or get into the details of Elmer Keith fans who like big bore bullets for foot pounds of energy vice the fans of velocity. They're all good arguments and because they are, I own everything from 220 swift, 270, 30-06, 300 win mag, 300 weatherby, and 454 casull in both a revolver and lever action rifle. Pick the caliber that's best for you and use it to the best of its and your abilities. That being said (written), bullet selection and optics probably play a bit larger role than most people give credit.
I like packing my Winchester Model 70, 270 featherweight and my son's first rifle, which is a Ruger compact 77 in 7mm-08. I don't intend to use the .270 out beyond 400 yards, nor would I feel good about using the little 7mm-08 beyond 300. But they are both a pleasure to pack, which I do when conditions warrant it and I'm not in Griz country. My old standby is my Ruger 300 win mag fitted with a Leupold 3.5x10 VIII. It shoots well and has never failed to do the job. I like my 300 mag and an older customized Mauser 98 in 300 Weatherby, both rifles are comfortable to pack and offer me more than enough velocity and energy for Griz if needed. There are a lot of new ultra mag wildcat cartridges out there and many are now provided by major gun manufacturers.
Good examples are the 30-378 Weatherby, 338 Lapua and a virtual smorgasbord of others. If you like them and can hit your target with them, then by all means, use 'em. I'm a big fan of bigger is better and I do like velocity. I've shot the .50 cal Barret sniper rifle and while they are a blast to shoot, and you can wack "targets" from 1500-2200 yards, they might just be a bit overkill for sport hunting..  :-)
There are a lot of good bullets out there these days and it's been great that the major ammunition manufacturers have jumped on board and started making premium ammunition with some of the best bullets available. Examples are: Swift A-Frame, Sirocco, Barnes TSX, Nosler, etc, etc, etc. I happen to like the Barnes Tipped TSX. They shoot well out of almost all my rifles and although they do not expand a huge amount, they hold together and punch holes through damn near any part of a big game animal. I generally prefer lung shots on everything I shoot, but have been known to punch through both front shoulders to put them down hard and fast if the animal had the chance to immediately bail off into a steep timbered canyon full of dead fall. An animal going down hill with a lung shot can travel a long way before he runs out of air and can be very difficult to recover in some areas.
I have also used the TSX to punch through a large bull elk from stern to stem ( a "Texas Heart" shot, as close to anus as possible) when the only shot I had was his backside. The bullet entered approximately a half inch right and that TSX exited out his brisket and dropped him where he stood. The added benefit of the TSX and other full copper bullets is for bears. Griz have a heart rate somewhere close to 25-30 beats a minute, so shooting a bear in the heart, lungs, etc, may just not put him down quick enough for you to not soil your long johns. Breaking a bears motive power, that is, his front shoulders, appears to be the best way to stop their forward momentum. He can still push with the hinds, but he is not going to get to you very fast. I've never had to do this, so I'm not speaking from experience, so take it for what it's worth. Also,  not sure how you'd break those front shoulders if he's coming straight on. In that situation I'd probably start dumping rounds into his chest and lower throat and hope I could take out heart, lungs and maybe even get something into his spine.
I've seen a hell of a lot of articles and listened to a lot of people who talk about a caliber that is overkill for the intended species. Personally, I think it's all BS and here's my reasons why:

If I hit an antelope in the front shoulders with almost any caliber, I've just ruined both of those front shoulders, just as I would with my 300 mag. But my 300 mag maintains almost the same velocity at 600 yards as the 270 has at 400 yards (300=2241FPS at 600, 270=2319FPS at 400). It also has more foot pounds of energy at 700 yards than than the 270 has at 400 yards (300=1627FPE at 700, 270=1552FPE at 400). As I mentioned above, I like hitting all big game animals in the lungs when conditions warrant and if you hit the lungs with a solid bullet that animal is not going far with a hole punched through both lungs and you'll ruin far less meat if you do so.
The above ballistics were established with 300 yard zero, 32 degrees at 4000 feet. The majority of hunters sight their guns in with a 100 yard zero, but recently we've seen ammunition boxes listing 100 yard ballistics and what they term long range for 200 yard zero. I prefer to sight my guns that I intend to use at longer ranges with a 300 yard zero. This works well for me but may not be best for you. The biggest thing you have to remember is where that bullets point of impact is at closer ranges, not to mention having a range card listing bullet drop out to all the ranges to the end of your comfort range. I shot an elk once through the lungs at about 500 yards and when he went down, I moved in to about a 100 yards to finish him. I ended up shooting three times because it wasn't until after the second shot that I remembered my point of impact was +3 MOA at a hundred yards. What I intended to be a last shot through the neck and spine ended up hitting nothing but muscle till I remembered what the problem was. I felt bad for the bull and have never let the adrenaline rush let me make the same mistake twice.

Here's part of the reason why I like 300 vice 100 yard zero. The example is used with 300 win mag,  Barnes 168 grn TTSX, 32 degrees and 6000 foot elevation:

300 yard zero: 100 yd +3inches, 200 +4inches, 300 -.1inches, 375 -4.5inches, 400 -6.8inches,
450 -12.5inches, 500 -20inches

100 yard zero: 100 yd 0 inches, 250 +4.5inches, 300 -8 inches, 350 -13inches, 400 -19inches,
450 -26inches, 500 -36inches.

I don't know about you, but at 500 yards I'd much rather be doping a neg 20 inch drop than a neg 36 inch drop.
And I know, for those of you using tactical type turrets you don't care about the guess work of raising cross hairs above intended point of impact. You'll just dial it up to the correct yardage and let her rip, but this information is intended for those who have not shelled out a  thousand or two thousand dollars for that type Leupold, Night Force or Huskemaw, etc tactical scopes.

Tip of the Day: When you hit an elk and he goes down, but still moving, hit him again. If you feel you need to get closer just make sure you can see him all the time and hit him again as soon as possible. Don't lose sight of him because if he gets up and takes off you may be tracking him for days and you may or may not catch up to him. They are....a very tough animal.
Just my opinion, not that it matters...  :-)

Till next time, live well, hunt hard
Ron out

GrizTails-Lessons Learned-Part 2

Hunting in Grizzly bear country is different. It's one thing to be cognizant of the fact that you need to take care and not be stupid in all of the outdoors. Getting hurt can be a life or death situation in almost all of the United States, but it seems a bit more so here in the northwest due to the amount of public ground and the long distances from civilization you can find yourself. As I stated in my profile, I retired from the USAF and currently work contract security overseas. I'm often asked by friends about how I deal with the danger over there.  I usually tell them I feel the danger is about equal to or less than going out hunting in Montana. They usually look at me a bit funny so I go on to explain that in my line of work I'm in a static location. That is, I don't go off the sites, I'm not on the streets, I'm not in the "red zone," and that if I get injured or worse over here, it was just bad luck, wrong place at the wrong time. My primary concern is rockets and mortars. They don't have a lot of range as far as damage and we don't get that many, so again, it would just be bad luck.

So, sort of like hunting in Montana. I know that almost every time I go out, it might just be the time I come through the dark timber, wind in my face, and run into a Griz at close range. It won't be the bears fault if it attacks. It's just doing a bear thing and I understand that. It also does not mean that just because the bear is doing his or her bear thing, that I'm going to give up doing my human thing, which is to defend myself till I can no longer do so. When I write about defending myself from a full on attack, I don't mean yelling, or running, or playing dead. I mean to put as much lead into that bear as I possibly can as quickly as I can. I've been meaning to buy a can of bear spray but just haven't gotten to it yet. I think bear spray works...in the right situations. Like, I see the bear from a distance, the wind is not blowing in my face, I have time to get it un-holstered and ready and he or she is coming my way "slowly." I will yell first to let it know I'm human and if the conditions are right I'll use that spray. In any other situation, my gun is ready and my finger is the safety.

Example: Here's a story involving a neighbor of mine. I'm not poking fun at him, because I probably would have reacted the same way and so might you, because until you, me, he actually live it and do it, we don't know how we will react. I live on 23 acres about nine miles from town and there are eight houses above me. It's all wooded and we've seen everything from elk, whitetails, mulies, moose, black bear and cougar. No Griz yet, no thanks to Judge Molloy who keeps fighting against the removal of both the Griz and wolves from the endangered species list (but the wolves are now right behind my house, having moved the 50 miles from YNP.) Just so you know, I dislike PETA and instead, belong to PWETA (People Who Eat Tasty Animals.) Anyway, back to the story.
Every day, my neighbor walks with his golden retriever the mile from his house at the top of the hill to get his paper located at the mailboxes adjacent to my place. One beautiful, cold, snowy, bright morning, I just happened to be close to the road when he came down. I heard him before I saw him, so I crawled on my belly through the snow, under my fence and lied behind a thick bush about five feet from the road. As he passed by me, I started growling in my best bear growl and shook the bush for all I was worth. He immediately started backpedaling away from me while at the same time trying to get his bear spray un-holstered from his hip. He never made it.
The dog was going nuts and he was obviously flustered at his inability to get that spray, when I quickly stepped out to identify myself before the aneurysm started. We both laughed till we cried, but the point is, getting that spray un-holstered and safe to shoot is time consuming and almost impossible when the shit hits the fan. Luckily for us hunters who usually have a gun in our hands it is much simpler to flip that safety and go to it. We might not hit a damn thing, but by God we'll go down trying. I'm glad he couldn't get that spray going, but don't think it would have hurt me too much....because I'm pretty sure the wind.....was in HIS face.

My first run-in with Griz in Montana was an elk hunt in Ed Hake's camp. Others from our group saw bears at a distance in the previous year or two, but not me. We had hunted there enough that my guide allowed me to sort of  do my own thing. On this particular morning I asked Dennis if he'd mind my walking alone up the ridge while he brought the horses up about a quarter mile behind. I was on "Second Ridge." It was a place I loved to hunt, sloping off gradually on both sides and interspersed with small meadows a few hundred yards across, separated by timber for a couple hundred yards, then meadow, then timber. I was moving as quickly and quietly as I could, since I wanted to cover as many of these meadows as possible in that "best time," that one hour from shooting light while they were still feeding till they headed for their bedding areas.
I had just come to the edge of the timber where I could scan the meadow before moving quickly across for the next. I saw nothing in the meadow, started across and was about 25 yards into it when three, immature two year old Griz came into the meadow directly ahead of me. I'll tell you now, I don't like young predators like bears and cougars and especially cougars. Just like teenagers, they do not always make the best of choices.
We were about 75 yards apart and they had not spotted me. The wind was in my face so I knew they wouldn't smell me, but I did not feel like yelling at them because I was unsure about how they would react. I believed they would run, but if they didn't, three against one with four rounds in my 300 mag just did not seem like the best of odds. I looked back to the timber, no Dennis. I wondered if I could sneak back into the timber and climb a tree, high ground is always good and while it is untrue that Griz can't climb I thought I'd have a better chance if they came after me. It truly is interesting how much goes through your mind in very short period of time when the blood starts hammering your temples. Anyway, the trees were so thick that I knew I would not be able to get up one very quickly, soooooo, when all else fails, wave your arms and yell 'Hey Bears! Get out of here!" The first time I yelled this....they didn't even look up, just kept walking towards me. Now they were about 50 yards away, my safety was off and I yelled again "HEY BEARS! GET THE **** OUT OF HERE!" That got their attention, the first stood up, sniffed the air and I yelled the same for a third time. The three of them almost ran over each other as they did a 180 and hauled ass. I stayed where I was till Dennis came up. I told him the story and he said, "Wow, pretty cool."    Um, yea, my thoughts exactly.  :-)
That evening, I was doing a similar hunt in the same way, but going downhill on an adjacent ridge. It was getting dark fast and the wind was blowing about 15 mph...again...in my face. All I could think about as I checked a meadow...jogged through the timber....checked a meadow...jogged through the timber  ...was...."Where are those damned bears?" I got to a meadow in the last five minutes of shooting light, looked out and was disappointed to see nothing. I did not have enough light to make it to another one. I stepped beside a lone spruce tree that was next to the timber, but in the meadow and as I came around it I spotted a nice mature bull, all alone, at 25 yards, at the same time he spotted me. I pulled up and fired just as he made his first jump and managed to get one more into him in the next 20 yards before he went over the rise and out of sight. Both shots were in the "boiler-room," he was an older bull, just a 5x5, but one of the most exciting I'd ever taken. As Dennis and I started field dressing, in the dark,....all I could think about was, "Where are those damned bears?"

Griz Country Tips:
Tip One: Ed Hake leaves all the door zippers open on his wall tents. Reason: If they want in, they'll just tear hell out of your tent and go in. You've all heard about how to store food in bear country, so do it and open those tents up and let 'em in. For the most part, they'll nose around a bit, maybe chew something up like a chair, or a wooden box, get bored and move on.

Tip Two: Put an electric fence around your camp. Use either a solar or a good D-Cell mini charger. The thinnest electrical fence wire works fine. On my mountain goat hunt in 09, we came back into camp after being gone for days. We came across the Griz tracks about a half mile from camp...headed towards camp. They went straight towards the tents and you could see where he touched the fence and tore things up during the shock. When he got his "bearings" back (had to do it) he went over the fence which was now on the ground. We could follow his route through the snow, first to the sleep tent where he stuck his nose in but did not enter. Then the SOB went to the cook tent and rather than using the open door, he tore a hole five feet long, nine inches from the unzipped door. He went into the tent, knocked a few things around and left. I know, it does not sound like it works, but it does. Ever since Ed started using the electric fences he's had much fewer incidents of bears in his camps. And I'd bet you 100 to 1, this particular bear probably won't try the fence again.
Live well, hunt hard
Ron

GrizTails and Lessons Learned-Part One

I haven't had that many face-to-face encounters with grizzly bears, but beginning with my first, way back in 1985 in Alaska and several times in Montana I've learned that bears are a lot like humans. They all have their own personality and respond differently to whatever situation they are confronted with.
My very first meeting with a grizzly bear occurred when I shot a caribou in Alaska in 1985. I had backpacked by myself approximately six miles from the Denali highway east of Denali National Park. On the third day I was making my last trip in to pack out the remaining meat and the horns. I arrived at the head and horns first as I had drug it approximately 300 yards away from the meat in the hopes of keeping a bear from packing it off. I had seen a lot of Griz scat on my trail for the past couple of days and knew they had been in the area within the past week. I used my pack saw to remove the horns and as I was sawing away, I heard a noise and looked up to see a Griz sow and cub standing about 50 yards away.
I happened to be by the only large rock in the area, about eight feet square and eight feet high. The sow didn't show any aggression, just stood there looking at me, trying to figure out what I was. I felt comfortable enough that I reached over, grabbed my coat and climbed up the backside of the boulder.
I was seriously regretting that I had left my rifle back at the truck and only had my .44 mag revolver. I left the rifle because the weight of the remaining meat and the size of the horns strapped to my pack were going to make it difficult to get through the brush on the way down. I thought being on the top of the rock gave me some protection, in that it was high enough that I didn't think she could jump right up on it and the sides were all vertical with only small indentations that I used to get up. I figured if she came after me, I'd have a pretty good chance on the high ground.
I yelled at her and waved my arms, letting her know I was a human and not some tasty pastrami on rye. She stood up, sniffed the air and then started bouncing herself up and down with her front legs. Like I said, this was my first Griz encounter, but, that didn't look good. I only had 12 rounds for my 44 and really did not want to waste any rounds in case I needed them, but fired a shot into the air. She just stood there, so I fired off another. At this, she looked at me like "That all you got?"
She started walking away and had gone about 100 yards, but the cub had not moved. After all, I was probably his first experience with a human. He was curious and mom didn't seem too scared. I yelled and waved my arms some more, which probably bored him to the point that he decided to catch up to the sow. The two of them started walking off when I realized they were headed down to the trail that I was using to get back down. I didn't like the idea of walking down that brushy trail with 50 lbs of raw meat strapped to my back so I fired a round about 10 feet in front of them. It took four more shots, but she finally turned and headed up the mountain slope and I stayed where I was and watched as they climbed up and over the top about three quarters of a mile away.
"Luck" plays a huge part in bear encounters or non-encounters. I walked up to where I had left the rest of my meat and the carcass. When I arrived, it was obvious they had been feeding on all of it. My meat was gone and the carcass was partially buried. 70% of bear attacks are committed by females in defense of their cubs. The other 30% are committed by bears, (boars and sows) when they are either surprised at close range or protecting their food. There's a very, very small percentage of attacks that are committed by bears that went after humans for no apparent reason or for reasons, mistakes or stupidity of the humans. IF, I had left those horns with the meat, I would have come up over that slight rise, with the wind in my face and walked into that sow and cub at approximately 40 yards, which would have put me at about 98% of that "attacks for:  protecting their cubs, surprise at close range and protecting their food." (This would have also put me into the catagory of stupidity by human, so we can change that 98% to 100%)

Tip Number One: ALWAYS get a look at a carcass or food source from as far away as possible to look for bears and when you approach be on the look out for bear sign like tracks or scat to see if they've been near it. Just because you don't see them, doesn't mean they aren't near by.

Luck played a large portion in my second "non-encounter" in 1986. I was hunting Dall Sheep a bit north of the above hunt with a friend. We had hunted from first light, had traveled about 10 miles in a big loop around camp and saw quite a few caribou and some nice Dall's, but nothing with the legal full curl. Six hours later, we were tired and headed back to camp. As we walked off of one mountain we came to a small stream, about 20 feet wide, a foot to two feet deep and lined with brush for about 30 feet on both sides. It had a good trail going down the middle of it, which we were going to use to get back to camp, until I spotted a bunch of sheep on another mountain about two miles away. We talked some, my partner was beat and did not want to make the trek to determine if there were any legal rams, but I was determined to check them out. He finally decided to go with me rather than returning alone to camp because of bears.
We crossed the creek, clambered up the steep bank and rested. As we were getting our breath back, I looked back at the creek and noticed some movement about a hundred yards below where we crossed. I chucked a rock in that direction and yelled. A Grizzly stood up and looked over the brush in our direction. The brush was about six feet high and her chin just cleared the tops so I estimated her at close to seven feet tall. I yelled again and she dropped down out of sight. She then came out of the brush about 150 yards away on the far side of the creek from us. What we thought was one bear turned out to be five. I still don't know if this is normal, but she had two cubs that were just tall enough that when she stood up, they stood up and wrapped their arms around her legs and their heads were at about her knees. There were also two other young bears that appeared to be about a year and a half old. I yelled again and the sow dropped down and ran like hell up and over the hill.

For the most part, when given the opportunity of distance between you and them, Grizzly bears like Black bears will get away from you. However, I'm sure it would have been a much much different ending if Don and I had taken that trail back to camp. The stream made a lot of noise as it flowed over the boulders, the creek side brush was thick and limited visibility to about 30 feet and the wind was coming upstream directly in our faces. IF, we had not seen and decided to go after those sheep, it was inevitable that we would have come face-to-face with that sow, her cubs and the other two. I have little doubt that the situation would have left her no choice but to strike out and while I can't guarantee how it would have turned out, in the end I'm sure it would not have been good for Don and I.

Tip Number Two: When you are in bear country, if you have an alternate route that might be a bit more difficult, but provides you with better visibility and standoff..take it. Don and I could have used almost any other route to get back to camp. We were just tired and knew the trail would be the easiest. Sometimes "easy" is not "best."

More "GrizzTails" tomorrow
Till then, live well, hunt hard.
Ron

Steve's Mountain Goat

Photos: Steve and "The Billy"
Ed Hake of Big Sky, MT guided both Steve and I to the tops and backsides of "No Name Mountain" in Montana. I doubt there's a better Mountain Goat hunter in all of North America.The succes rate for getting drawn in this particular unit is about 3% and in four successive years my brother in-law, Ed's brother, myself and Ed all got drawn. I was Ed's 20th of 20 successful goat hunts.
I'm not sure there is any way a "flatlander" can ever get 100% prepared for a goat hunt. My brother in-law, Steve Tedford from ND was in his mid 30s when he got drawn first for a goat tag. He trained quite a bit, running and riding bikes in preparation for the altitudes we would be hunting. He had hunted this area many times before for elk when Ed Hake owned the outfitting business in this unit, so he had a pretty good idea what he was in for. He had opportunites for smaller billies the first few days, but after five days of hard hunting he finally decided to take a good average billy at a range of 450 yards. To make a long story short, the goat was wounded with the first shot, but managed to get up and move on far enough that the only option was to head down the mountain, across a valley and get closer.
We had allready hiked straight up, sometimes through hip deep snow to where Steve got his opportunity, which meant John Alexander and myself would head back down, gather all the horses and make a three mile ride down and around to get to where Steve and Ed would end up, hopefully with a filled tag. Things went as planned and when John and I got to the intended rendevous site, Steve had his goat, which was a good thing because both of us were pretty spent. I'm not sure Ed and John ever get too tired hunting Mountain Goats, they both love it and it does not matter that they are not packing a gun, they just love being up with the goats and I can't blame em. IF you want to go on a goat hunt....Get in SHAPE,! and carry a flat shooting caliber that you KNOW without a doubt that you can hit your target out to at least 500 yards.
I mentioned in my first blog about how quickly the weather can change. As an example: On Steve's hunt we took the horses as far as we could, tied em up and then headed out on a beautiful sunny day with little wind. We hiked a couple hours headed for the top of "No Name Mountain" and the weather slowly changed from blue skies to overcast. We kept heading up as the winds increased, the sky darkened and we took cover, when we could find it, to take a break. We were still headed up when Ed stated something like "It's time to get off this mountain or suffer the consequences of continueing up." But in reality it was more like "Lets get the %#**! out of here before we die."  By the time we were headed down, the sleet was flying directly in our faces at about 50mph. Visibility was about 50 yards and just being able to see, with the sleet in our faces was almost impossible. We got off of course, but the moral of the story is "use your head and live to find your prey, another day,"

ALWAYS carry the required survival gear in your pack, don't assume your guide or buddies will have some for you. At a minimum, water, power bars, flashlight, small-light tarp and something to start a fire. Firesticks work great as do military surplus fire starter packs and for those who like to save a dime, it's true, petroleum jelly covered cotton balls work great. In addition, an emergency transponder like "Spot" is good insurance. I have one, it cost around $150 and I think I pay a bit over $100 a year to maintain the service. It has three modes, "I'm OK" that advises a couple people that you put into the system that you are fine, "Help," which advises those same people I'm OK, but maybe broke down, with your current GPS coordinates, and "911," which sends a signal to the national system that you need immediate help. It's well worth the piece of mind in the outback country.
Live well, hunt hard
Ron

My first blog

Hi and welcome to my first blog on Hunting the West. This will be a very informal site where I plan to post tips on hunting big game in the northwest U.S., to include elk, deer (both white tail and mulies, but predominately mulies), antelope, mountain goats and in the future, if I ever get drawn I'll write about my experience with a Rocky Mountain Goat hunt, but....could be some years out. I'll provide tips regarding camo, calibers, camping, clothing, boots and physical conditioning. You can ask me about anything hunting related, if I don't know the answer, I'll say so, but may do some research in order to answer the question for both of us. I've been on a number of guided elk hunts in Montana, New Mexico and Utah and will discuss the pros and cons in future posts. I grew up on the Oregon coast hunting black tail and mule deer, and both Roosevelt and Rocky Mountain Elk. I've hunted in Alaska back in the 80s while I was stationed there in the USAF and guided myself to a 423pt Barren Ground B&C Caribou. I'm certainly not the best hunter out there, but have enough experience to pass some info on to "would be," "first time," "out west," hunters from the mid-western, eastern and southern states.:

As an example: My older brother came out from Oregon to join me for an elk hunt. I live in some great hunting country, located approximately 50 miles from Yellowstone National Park. We hiked up in the mountains near Ted Turner's Ranch, covered quite a few miles and returned exhausted many hours later. My brother shed out of his outer jacket, got into the truck and off we went. After approximately 10 minutes I noticed huge waves of steam rising off of his upper body. He was soaked to the skin, but was not uncomfortable and suffered no affects of the cold since we had been moving most of the time and the weather was clear and cold, but with no wind. I asked him what type layers he had on underneath his button up chamois cotton shirt and he told me a thick thermal long sleeve and a thinner long sleave under that, ALL of it was COTTON!. His outer coat was a heavy insulated jacket with cotton outer shell, inner synthetic fill and nylon liner...folks,..he could not have worn much more that could have quite literally killed him if conditions had been different.
Know this right now, as far as I'm concerned, cotton, especially Cotton combined with nylon...can kill you. Now, don't get me wrong, I know many of us are quite skilled at starting fires, getting out of the wind and weather and drying our gear out. But, as I also know from experience, when shit goes wrong, it goes wrong fast and with little to no warning. If you hunt the northwest, and especially if you hunt the Rocky Mountain northwest, at altitudes from 5000 to 11,000 feet. You are definitely going to sweat and the weather can go from blue bird skies to "white out" conditions within minutes. Buy the best gear you can afford, but realize you can use inexpensive layering that won't cost you an arm and a leg. Micro fleeces for under layering works great and when you get right down to it any micro fleece will work fine and a wool sweater over the top works great. The good thing about wool in wet weather is that the wetter you get, the warmer it seems to get. It's just a great insulator and should not be overlooked for both top and pants.
Use anywhere from one to four layers under your outer shell depending on the coldness, and remove layers according to the physical exertion you expect to use when you start out. Realize that what may be too cold as you are standing outside the truck or tent while you get your gear ready may well be much to hot within 300 yards of walking up a 60 degree slope with snow up to your knees. And when it comes to outer shells in the mountain cold it's critical that you wear some type of windproof shell that breaths and breaths well. When it comes to waterproofing stay AWAY from those garments that say "waterproof" but nothing about "breathable."
Many, many years ago I purchased a "waterproof" camo outer shell. It had a brushed nylon outer shell and a nylon mesh inner lining. I guess that nylon mesh was meant for "breathability," but after 20 minutes I was in high, cold winds and my fleece undergarments were soaked. I eventually got so cold that I knew my hunt was done and headed back to the truck before I got myself in trouble. No one knows you,...better than you. Use your head to the best of your ability and play it smart or you could be playing in a life and death situation..
Hope I helped..more later
Montana Ron