DAY FOUR: “No country for old men!”

After breakfast, the six hunters in camp sat around the dining table relating stories about their past hunting adventures, while the guides readied equipment and the horses for the evening hunt. Our mid afternoon outing was to be another horseback ride up the switchback trails to the high country in a new section of the outfitter’s hunting area. Trail cameras had revealed that several bears were frequenting the bait sites, so hopes were high as we loaded the horses and mules into the trailer and headed for the trail at Fish Creek.

Nick and Del, the cook’s husband, were the guides for the 3 hunters on this excursion and led the pack of horses, mules and hunters as we crossed a bridge over the roaring runoff waters of Fish Creek, then slowly began the switchback climb up the east side of the canyon. The scenery was spectacular, with giant fir, pine and cedar trees that dominated the landscape on mountainsides that stretched to the far horizons. This was true Wilderness Area and it was a privilege to know that I was one of a relatively few people who would ever experience this country. The horses were amazing as they slowly picked their way along the narrow trail, carefully maneuvering along the steep drop-offs and numerous rocks and boulders.

I was the second hunter to be dropped off on the ride, and Nick and Del made quick work of setting out the bait and getting me situated in a position for a comfortable wait. My shot, if it came, would be downhill along a ridge top at about 75 yards. Nothing to do now but wait, enjoy the silence and the beautiful surroundings and reflect on the events of the past three days.

These rugged and steep mountains and their remote setting had been a real adventure and some rather life-altering events had occurred in the short time I had been here. New friendships had been made, real survival lessons had been learned and there was a growing appreciation for the stark realities that can quickly occur when in such a desolate setting.

Hours had drifted by when, at 6:30, I heard something approaching from the hillside behind me. It moved slowly, pausing from time to time, but was on a straight course to the bait and would pass close by on my left side. It eased into view a mere 20 yards away. It was a lone cow elk and she cautiously continued her walk to the bait site. As she stood there surveying the surrounding hillside, I knew she would alert me to any approaching bear. After 25 minutes, she slowly continued her path down the hillside and out of sight. Only 5 minutes had passed when I saw a black ear sticking out from behind a large pine tree to the right! It was not a large bear and he remained rather nervous as he moved about in and out of the trees, never really presenting a good clear shot.

At 7:40, as the light was fading, a shot rang out from further up the mountain in the direction of the last hunter to be put out. It was total darkness when the hunter, the guides and the horses stopped to pick me up. He had taken a shot at a large chocolate color phase bear and had drawn blood, but the initial search for the bear was unproductive. The hunter and guides would ride back in at first light to continue the search.

On the ride down the trail in the dark, I smiled, thinking that I was finally beginning to feel a bit more comfortable on the horse, but at the same time thankful that it was pitch dark and I couldn’t really see where the heck we were going or how steep the dropoff actually was! It had become abundantly clear that in light of what had happened to Travis on the second day, along with the lack of confidence in my horse riding ability, as well as the sheer remoteness of this magnificent Wilderness Area that this was simply “No country for old men!”

To be continued…