Two Kids, Two Goats

In the fall of 1976, I was guiding for Ron Hayes in the Wrangell Mountains, a very large range of rugged mountains. This area is now part of the Wrangell Saint Elias National Park.  Nine of the sixteen tallest peaks in the United States are here.  I was guiding two brothers who were 14 and 16 years old.  They were good kids.  It was their first time to Alaska and they were booked on a goat hunt.  I asked the kids how did they decided on hunting mountain goat. They replied, “Our dad said he thought it would be a nice little animal to start out on.”  

I said "OK." As I thought to myself, "I could get these kids almost any animal easier than a goat in the Wrangell's.” Goats live in some of the most rugged and dangerous areas of Alaska. Well, it is what it is. 

We got our packs ready and took plenty of freeze-dried food. We loaded into the Super Cubs. I jumped in with Ron Hayes, and the boys jumped in with a pilot named Hank. We flew and flew over the mountains for about an hour and a half searching for goats. It was turbulent and the kids and I got air sick, only time ever for me. Kind of embarrassing when the guide gets airsick.  We were throwing up into plastic Ziploc bags and throwing them out the window. The air was so turbulent in the mountains and steep canyons. Not off to a good start. 

Finally, on a very high mountain, we spotted two nice billy goats. Ron Hayes landed the plane on a sandbar that was treacherous. We jumped out and moved rocks and stumps and cut some alders then Hank landed, which was still very scary. They dropped us off and left us a little box of canned food, which we stashed and marked it with flagging tape.  

I knew where I had to go, and it looked like a death march to get up there. I started through the alders and the endless climb for nine hours. It was so very steep. We ran out of daylight, and we camped on a half vertical spot in the alders. We tied all our packs together and then to the alders to keep them from rolling down the mountain. We crawled in our sleeping bags and it was a very awkward position to sleep in. It was a terrible place to spend the night but we had no other choice.  

The next morning we were up and quickly got ready to go. The kids were really wishing they had never gone on this hunt and really whimpering, almost crying. I tried to encourage them but it was rough. We got our packs on and climbed up the steep incline for two more hours and finally were on top. We found a flat place to set up camp. It was windy but we got the tent set up and tied down. We put what seemed like a 1000 pounds of rocks around the tent to hold it down and act as a wind barrier. I glassed some Dall Sheep but no goats. We came back to the tent later and boiled some water for our freeze-dried food then crawled into our sleeping bags.  The wind picked up so strong I thought it was going to blow the grommets out of the tent. I took the main tent poles down to keep them from breaking from the wind.  We hung on for the night with little sleep. We were like burritos in our sleeping bags wrapped in the tent.  

We were low on food and Ron had told us he would drop off a little parachute of food out of the Super Cub, which he did.  The only problem was the wind was blowing hard and the parachute landed on a cliff where I didn’t think a mountain goat could even get!  The next morning I was so hungry I somehow found a way to get to the parachute and then we were happy. Amazing what hunger makes you do. The wind calmed down considerably and I spotted the goats. We packed up the tent and gear.  The goats were lower in another canyon so our plan was to shoot the goats and hike down that same drainage. We were very excited.  We slowly hiked down the mountain to where we could make a nice stalk on the goats.. What a set up!? Two boys and two nice Billy goats together. The alders gave us perfect cover and I got the boys within 100 yards which is close for a shot at a goat. They both rested their rifles on the backpacks.  They made good shots and both killed a nice Billies. The goats both slid down a water drainage and when I got to them, they were about 10 feet down under the snow. It was a struggle, but we tied some rope onto them and pulled them out of the snow cave. We were really loaded with two goats and moving slow down the steep alder covered mountains. Here we had all our camping gear, two goat capes and horns and the meat. As normal, our packs were very heavy. As normal too, I carried the majority.  I was the guide and that was my job. It was late and we could not find a good place to camp again and tied our backpacks together and slept in a crappy steep spot.  

Next morning it was raining. We camped close to where Ron Hayes had dropped us off. We found the canned food and we were happy. We got the fire going and I tried cooking some goat meat. The kids said that they never ever had meat that was so tough. They were right but I told them just think how tough it would be if you didn’t have it to eat.  

The next day, with all the rain, the river came up and Ron couldn’t land on the sandbar. He wrote a note and rolled it up in a rock with flagging tape and threw it out the window of the plane. He said to walk down the river and find a better place that I can land. Finally, by afternoon we got to a dry sand bar down river a mile or so and we got picked up.  

When we got back to camp everyone was proud that we got a double. There were two other hunters who had gone after goats and came back unsuccessful. The guides told me goat hunting was the toughest in the Wrangell's because the country was so rugged. After a day in camp Ron and Hank flew the boys into a beautiful place to hunt caribou. After goat hunting, caribou hunting was like a vacation. The kids both shot big bulls with double shovels and headed home. 

On our way out, I remember a huge 65 inch bull moose we saw flying out in the middle of nowhere. Ron says get that bull. He dropped me off that evening. I said, “That’s too far and swampy to pack out.”

“I’ll get you some packers.” Ron replied. I camped there and headed out with my client early in the morning where the moose was last seen. Three hours later we got him.  It was so swampy; it was like walking on a saturated wet sponge that is a foot thick.  Every step was a struggle. Then packing the meat was a real workout. Ron flew in two packers. In Alaska before you can become a guide you are required to work one season as a packer. The first guy quit on the spot. He said people weren’t made to do this. I won’t go into that. Ron and Hank made several trips that afternoon and got us back to base camp. It was nice to have some real food and not be living and eating out of your backpack. I was tired and went to bed early. 

I woke up with Ron Hayes and Hank and his girlfriend all in my wall tent.  They were drinking and smoking pot and I said, “What’s going on?” 

Ron said, “We don’t trust you.” I looked at him questioningly. He said, “You don’t drink, you don’t smoke, and you don’t chase wild women.”  I didn’t know what to say.

Hank spoke up and said, “He’s a killer and super hunter, and that is what we need.  Every time you drop him off with a client he comes back with game. Big game.” 

Ron chuckled, “Oh, ok then let’s keep him.”  I guess that was the pot talking. They were all a very wild bunch of guys. All guides did not go by their normal names. For example, one guy was named Shotgun because he shot up a bar in Kodiak. They were great to work with and I really learned a lot.  

The next morning I got dropped off with 2 Spaniards and another guide. His name was Manuel de la Torre and Rodriguez from Mexico City. We backpacked for mountain goats again. One hour before dark Rodriquez shot a goat a hundred yards vertically straight up. He killed the goat but it fell through the air and went down the mountain hundreds of yards below us. We searched until dark and could not find the goat. It was a warm rainy night and all four of us crawled into a two-man tent. The next morning we searched for the goat. I found it and when I grabbed it all the hair fell out. The hair had slipped from the body heat.  I had never seen this happen before so the goat was no good. All he ended up with was two small black horns.  Like I've said before; during my many years of guiding I have made so many wonderful friends and have had so many wonderful and memorable experiences. Many are lifelong friends.  These hunters later invited me to Mexico City where traveled to the coast and  hunted jaguar and deer. I won’t tell that story but it was all good. 

Happy Hunting! 

Jaret Owens - 805-551-6815