Day 3

It’s a mystery to me and many of my friends (and former employers) “what exactly goes on inside that head I carry around on my shoulders..”(and many have said as much over the years)?!

At last post it was midnight Ennis time, and I was whooped! …I said I was gonna ‘hit it hard this morning’ and well; I did except for whatever reason I cannot explain; I drove out of the motel and went 5 miles toward where I hunted yesterday, then turned-around abruptly and headed toward a destination-unknown..?

“Wait what..?”
_________

There’s at least three reasons why I did it; take your pick…

I’m “an idiot” is the easiest, but lets skip that one and explain that while I’d said “the Utah guys’ report wasn’t discouraging” – in fact it was, once I slept on it.
…That they’d said they’d ‘been there all week and hadn’t seen a black bear (but two griz)’; ..this made me think this was not the place to revisit?

With the exception of one small bear track I came across yesterday, I really didn’t see much sign otherwise; and when they said “they hadn’t either” - again, my ‘dreams of killing a bear’ were interupted by common-sense telling me to go elsewhere?
…The problem with ‘my version of common sense’ is its’ often without using the proper map, nor any reamaining brain cells I have left.
__________

Not only was the Utah guys’ poor report of bear-sightings a factor, but as I was leaving last night and heading toward Ennis, no less than a dozen campers with ATV’s on the backs of them were pulling into the area I’d just left; so this too played a key role in my spontaneous decision to try elsewhere.

…And finally, it was one of the Utah guys themselves who asked me:”You know where the tobacco range is; ‘we heard that was good’..?” and my hesitance at what the hell he was talking about, that stuck in my head and didn’t appear until much later…

However, after a sleepless night of tossing and turning and awaking to more pain in my lower body than I’ve felt since elk-season; I grabbed a map and took it to the shitter. Once there I thought “you know that’s not very far from here actually, but in the other direction..?” - As on my map at least it, was in big bold letters: “Tobacco Range”; how the other guys missed it is beyong me?

So before I knew what was happening I was cruising thru Virginia City and looking for the Granite Creek turnoff (ended up being just past Nevada City actually)..and turned down a one-way road without a clue where it lead, or if it even went all the way to the big green glob that indicated a National Forest’ was somewhere north of there? It didn’t help I was using the very basic of BLM maps and roads seemed to almost vanish into themselves for whatever reason..?
________

And this is where things turned bad. The roads actually vanished into themselves.

“Shit”!

Finally I came to a handdrawn sign indicating ‘forest this way..’ and that I wasn’t the only dumbshit to have gone down the wrong road apparently?!

Well I put her in 4x4, having made that mistake before, and fore long I was on top of the world and looking down on what I said to myslef was “pure bear country”, but instead didn’t see butkus for over 3 hours.


“Shit”!?

_____

It seemed I’d somehow gotten myself into a desert, rather than a mountain-range with forested trees or streams like before. I recognized the area for great elk hunting and amybe mule deer up there, but not so great anything else...?

So not seeing any 'spring bears' as I was hunting them; I just did what came natural and went in even further up the slippery slope…(idiot).

...Ten more miles by the odometer, "road-hunting" at a snails pace, and I found myself at a complete deadend of muddy snow-pack, up to my bumper, and nowhere else to go but back...?!

“Shit”! (…was not what I said)


...So I did, at a snails pace again, as the incline I’d traversed up was making my bad brakes squeal their last breath; …all the way down.

“…Total bust!”
_________

Next on my list of stupid things to do, I instead of turning back toward Ennis, and toward the way I knew home; I took a right and drove blindly toward that “Ruby River” the biologist had confused me about..? And before I knew it I was passing thru Alder (had never been there before or even heard of it) and headed toward “the Ruby Dam” where I didn’t see a dam thing, but was quite pretty none the less..?



_______

Backtracking thru Alder I surmised “there must be more National Forest accesses somewhere up this way…”; so turned and headed north. Since even parts of my state BLM map had vanished, I went to my State Farm Altas, but this only told me I was taking ‘a really long way home’ if I decided to, at the end of this bloody day..?

I don’t know why I passed the first three exits into the forest, but maybe it was just the names that didn’t sit well – hell they were so forgettable I don’t even know them now? Still when I saw “Wisconsin Creek” I just turned not having a clue where it lead, but did seem like thick-woods might be in my future, judging by the snow capped horizon…

I drove first by some amazing homes and the kind of cabins I’ve always dreamed of, and tried not to grow bitter at seeing them, but as is my nature I quit waving to their lederly owners’ after the first few. Within 5 miles I was in a National Forest and one not to shabby looking either..?

Except for one thing. Unless you had an ATV you weren’t going any further than I did without hiking and since my balls…well lets forget about my balls for a second, but my calves were not doing much better; …I maybe hoofed it a few hundred yards before returning to my truck and vowing to get a job as soon as possible; then get a god damned ATV as soon after that..?!

“Fuck it”!
_______

“If ya cant beat em join em I always say..?” (…actually I haven’t in the past, but do now..)

Yup, this is my new motto and I aim to live by it, same goes for shooting hundred pound bears; first one I see next time out is dead meat!

If there were one plus-side to this adventure, besides the best day I ever had in Montana, it was a further appreciation for what this great state has to offer…as apposed to others I’ve lived or visited before. In the lower forty-eight there simply is no other comparison as far as places you can just 'go on a whim' or enter if you can reach them...and I’m really happy I moved to Montana, and cant wait to go after spring bear again next week…

….Stay tuned...


Moe

Day 2

Either the lady at the Ranger Station had her info wrong, or I dont know where I'm hunting? I got to the area behind West Fork Cabins and the roads looked fine and open? Lots of tire tracks all the way up the mountain?

I couldn't figure it out...?

...Being mister 'follow the rules' though, I parked and began walking up the mountain.

It didnt take long though before I began experiencing those familiar fat guy hiking issues all over again; shortness of breath, rapid heart rate, and discomfort from having parts of my body rub together that haven't in a while? As I stood to hyperventilate for the first of many times today, I glanced back and realised I hadn't even gone two hundred yards?

"Shit"!

I struggled on and eventually was convinced I'd gone "at least a mile"; when I heard something coming from behind and looked to see some old dude cruising along in an blue beater four-door Plymouth, and casually waved looking at me like the fool I was for walking?!

"you bastard"!

I went right back to my down to truck and said the hell with it, if he can I can too!

On the way back I was suprised too see 3 nice bulls with their horns in velevet, not huge yet of course antler-wise, but big bodied!? I hadnt brought camera on my little walk, so missed a shot; but was a neat encounter as they were less than fifty yards away; wind perfect and they never knew I was there.

The group of cows pictured above was in exact same place as bulls were earlier, but 8hours later on way out. Where ANY of them were hiding during season is the real mystery??



I found my 'meadows' as I remembered them, but after a two mile (very slow) walkabout on the logging road around it, and glassing them it from all sides; I headed back to look for greener pastures?

It seemed the higher I went the more brown it got and the lower was much lusher, so headed back down.

I walked up on this young moose and he let me take a dozen shots of him. It was very cool as he's the first one I've seen this year and only the second ever in Montana. While other folks see them quite regular I almost never do; so it was another neat encounter for the day!




I made mental note of the presence of several of these beeuties and while this one startled me a bit walking up beind me while I glassed the opposing slope; I didnt mind the visit.




Didnt see any bears this day, but whata gorgeous afternoon! Probably the nicest day I can recall in Montana? Not sure what it was, but I just felt great out there all alone and damn near was most of the afternoon, excpet a couple other guys hunting too.




I'm gonna hit it hard tomorrow too, even though after talking with two guys from Utah who have been there all week and seen no blacks, but two griz; I'm not discouraged...though am keeping my eyes peeled for the brown type?

I'm staying in Ennis tonight, here at cheap motel. I'll check back in tomorrow night and hopefully have had better luck on the bear hunt...as far as a better day though; its gonna be tough to beat!

Gorgeous...

Moe

_____________

Day 1

“Bust”

..Especially considering I haven’t even left yet..?

I had a phone call first thing this morning for a meet with a tree-farm operation about some field work and it stretched longer than I expected; so there was that delay. Then the rancher calls as I’m pulling into the Vet to drop girls off and ‘needs me to run errands’, and I couldn’t say no.

He’s essentially my boss till I find real employment; and since he’s also my landlord - and has been a hell of a guy cutting me slack on rent; I was busy all afternoon hauling tractor equipment across town.

By the time we were done it was too late to go tonight, so I just put it off till morning. Because of this, I just spent last few hours pouring over my old maps and topos, studying the lay of the land once more - and boy am I glad I did…!?

Given this extra time to plan instead of just “going for it..”; I picked up the phone to try and get better info on road conditions and what the weather was doing down that way?

I called the Madison Ranger Office in Ennis and was reminded of how much of a clueless greenhorn I am when it comes to hunting in Montana, when she matter of factly informed me all those lovely well kept roads I drove on during elk-season “are in that shape because they don’t let you drive on them this time of year when it’s all muddy and covered in patchy snow drifts”. Wonderful.

This means I’ll have to hike up the roads and hunt them I suppose, but how far can I get...? When I hung up I was thinking this plan might not work after all? I’d fully intended on driving in as far as I could then hiking to a few meadows I recalled last year; now though these meadows would be 5 miles up (at least)?!

Screw that!

I called West Fork Cabins to get a forecast and he said “in the past hour it had been bright and sunny, foggy, with severe wind, then snow, and now sleet”? Not that I have the coin to stay there anyway, I was just getting a forecast but it doesn’t sound good for tent camping.

So I called some more FWP folks and asked more questions and between poor cell service on their end, poor map skills on mine, and some confusion as to whether he meant the Madison or Ruby River; when he was describing where I “might see a bear..?” …I was left with more questions than answers then when I started?!

“Shit”!

_____

...Oh I’m still going and leaving first thing regardless of original plans down the crapper. Once my mind is made up on this kind of thing, especially when it involves hunting something; there’d have to be a major catastrophe to keep me home now.

I'm just gonna have to sort it out when I get there I guess and hike a few miles too.

_____

Did pull truck into the bay this afternoon and checked under hood and changed oil; so don’t need to worry bout that now either. I also cleaned my gun, scope, and binos, as I hadn’t done either in a year at least; so not a total waste of a day, but a rough start to this adventure already.

I've switched my phone off, so no more interruptions on this trip. Gonna get a good night’s rest for long day ahead. Still got girls and saved a days’ boarding-fees; since rancher caught me in time, but will need to drop them off first thing then hit the road…

Not sure I’ll be able to check-in tomorrow evening since I’ll likely hunt till dark, but might drive into Ennis for dinner – who knows?

I have lap-top, digital camera, and wireless so will try..?


Moe
.

An Unpredictable Routine

I think that’s an oxymoron which is fitting in a way; as I’ve been called something similar on occasion. My routines are pretty basic I’ll oversleep, stagger to the bathroom, then let the girls out of their bedroom so they can do their little routines. Mocha will jump on my bed for a postmorning snooze, after an eight hour one she just woke from; while Suzie goes and hides in the closet of the other bedroom and does whatever it is she does in there?

After about 15 minutes we’ll say our hello’s and start the day with a little ear scratching and light tummy rubbing, before its 'stretching time' which bring audible farts from all three of us and always manages to make me smile.
Then it’s their chance to freshen old markings out front and chew on some crisp grass, while I sit on the porch sipping my Starbucks crappy frappe and screaming at each of them to “get away from the damned road” while adjusting my eyes to the gorgeous sunrise, as it crests over the Bridger’s this time of year.

“Ah...I love Montana!”

....

Thus ends any part of my life deemed 'predictable' as over the next several hours my routine consists of either going fly fishing, bear hunting, or job hunting, and rarely the latter? This of course negatively effects doing either of the other two as I’m flat broke because of it, and can barely afford to drive across town and attempt such stalks with rod or gun; but do my best still.
....

Women say they “want a spontaneous boyfriend, husband, or whatever”, but after years of doing what I want and being as unpredictable as anyone and the amount of trouble I find myself in every single day, while ignoring all human responsibility; I can hereby debunk that as urban legend and myth.

What they really mean is they want a man who’s spontaneously buying them expensive shit and predictably doing so when they don’t give it up. Those days are long behind me as far as caring, though I did devote the first-half of my life to such pursuits and even chased them from one side of the country to the next while doing so.

Thus I sometimes find myself alone between trips to the Madison whether pursuing bears, browns, or bows. While the girls entertain me visually and we still converse from tiem to time, along with the occasional hug; I’ll every once in a while find myself flirting when I shouldn’t with married women or logging into dating services spontaneously while checking email? Then predictably logging-out without fully joining, once a few pictures ‘pop up’ of lonely women who outweigh me by fifty pounds; as I go 300 myself?!

“Yikes”!
....

The days tick by and I make-do working the odd job I’ve advertised myself for at the local market. Having a pickup truck but sans any tools limits me on what I can actually help with of course. So any phone calls I get that don’t pan out with much work, can occasionally end up with me ‘talking fishing or hunting with a complete stranger’; gleaning insight on future possibilities in the state (or they just hang up on me mid conversation when I drum on a little longer than I should)?

My handy-work with local farmers whether it’s mending fences, light construction, or painting barns, is always prone to a bit of comedy or lawsuits; as I’m not very handy with tools, and a notorious slob. Which makes these part-time jobs ‘very part-time’ and don’t always even last thru the time it takes to complete them…?

So, I continue to refresh my applications and resend my resumes to the same few places I really want to work. And whether I chased bears or my dogs around a field or landed a few fish, at the end of each day I predictably fall back into the routine of renting a movie, eating frozen pizza, and scratching my dogs behind the ears.

…Falling asleep each night dreaming of trophy game, trophy fish, and the equally elusive trophy wife I might’ve spotted at the supermarket.

Moe

QU Comments.....

Following are comments from the original short-story after it was posted on Upland Journal Magazine...

Briarscratch

I think I need a drink after reading that! No wait, make it a double.
Hell of story MB.

L.Gallagher

You might have had a hand in it, but something tells me there were many, many hands in it, and that the problems started a LONG time ago. I've been hearing about problems with QU for more than a decade.

TooDogs

You know, if you'd of just smacked that yuppie in the beginning, things would have gone OK after that; so much for constraint
DowntownBang
My guess is they orchestrated their own demise. But still a good story.

HazelNut

Moe -- That is a helluva story. Don't know if smacking the yuppie would've helped save QU, but knocking the pi$$ out of Rocky Evans would have.

KDVollmer

A good story indeed, though had you just knocked him out back then, you would have felt lots better then, and you would still be feeling pretty good about it as you look back with a smile!

BearKat

Gives me a hang over just reading that. I agree with HazelNut. Should have found Rocky to knock around.

FrugalPointer

You post a story and I'll read it. Real life is always more interesting than fiction. FP

Dave Gowdey

Moe,

While it seems that you had more than your share of alcoholic folly - such follies don't bring down major organizations. As Linda noted, what brought down QU was that a couple of guys who founded the organization seem to have done so more as a way to make themselves a lot of money and to hobknob with celebrities than to help Quail.

I can guarantee you that had there been any indication that QU was really helping turn quail numbers around - it would be a healthy and thriving organization. Unfortunately, despite all of the hard work and money raised by members and volunteers for decades. QU has made little if any difference at all to quail numbers. Mismanagement, unprofessionalism, and a lack of financial integrity are what finally did QU in.

Your stories just provide some comic relief to what is otherwise a great conservation tragedy.

--------------

Madison, Midges, and a Moron…

As a fitting reminder to how stupid it was to go fishing in 50 mph winds last week, when I’d opened my trucks door the wind caught and hyper-extended it buckling the front quarter panel; with an audible “pop”!? Followed immediately with an audible:

“Mother #x&@….” from yours truly

…Now, as I make short trips to and from the local market I’m reminded of the fruitless day when we ventured after bloody catch-and-release trout during a phenomenal midge hatch, where I couldn’t even get the line to land in the water; by the deafening wind sounds entering my truck’s cab and drowning out the radio because of a permanently ruined seal of my driver’s side door?!

“Mother #x&@….”

When the cursing at myself becomes too much, Suzie will sit-up in the passenger seat, cock her little head, and reach over and lay her paw on my forearm; which always has a calming effect on me and I apologize to both her and Mocha - assuring them: “it’s not you who I’m cursing at, but myself?”

This seems to work and they lay back down and I’ll tune in a better song and crank it up louder than the wind and that damned cold draft hitting the left side of my stupid assed head which is empty because I went to try and catch a mother #x&@……

Then Suzie will sit up again and we’ll go thru this scenario a half-dozen times until we get home.

Her gesture is about the kindest thing you’ve ever seen. It’s a mixture of an old trick of “high-five” I taught her as a puppy and whatever else goes on in that cute little head of hers when she wants me to calm down while I’m driving her around doing 70 miles per-hour and cursing at myself.

…Because of this I have refused to go fishing until the wind dies down a bit, the bite picks up considerably, …and am making far fewer trips locally just the same.


Moe

OCD and shed hunting...

It appears 'hunting in general' and OCD are afflictions of the same; or at least those who pursue the sport are more inclined to catch it.
Whether its deer, elk, bird, hog, or coon,..somewhere there's a fella who its all he ever thinks about day or night; and drives everyone around him insane till he gets his 'fix'...?!

'Fly fishermen' aren't immune either, as I saw some serious cases of it come into the shop last year; and in fact it could be said the entire populous of Fort Smith has it.

Add booze to the mix and your in trouble. Subtract booze from the equation and its solely dependent on whether you have any friends or a job; before you go off the deep end once again. Thus brings me to the subject of finding bloody shed antlers (or not finding them); and driving all over creation certain they're all over the Montana landscape - and if I don't go 100 mph to get to wherever I'm going; someone else will pick them up before I do..?!

Problem being of course, for the most part, there still on their heads?!

Idiot.

I'd actually found one Saturday evening, a small five-point left beam; its ivory tips glistening in the setting sun, and then raced up the steep mountains' face the 400 yards to retrieve it 'double-time' as I was pretty certain it wasn't on public land..? My suspicions were confirmed when the old lady walking her dog past my truck, gave me the 'landowner stink eye'; and I mumbled something about "there's a bunch of pretty deer up there"! Holding up my camera, as if I was a greenhorn winter tourist who'd never seen one before..?

Once I was back in the truck and began admiring the large antler up close, while the girls gave it a few curious sniffs,..it was then my OCD really kicked in?! I was dizzy from the overexertion itself, but this was something else entirely. I hadn't felt it in a long time, not since elk-season itself; so I didn't recognize it as such. Instead I simply went home, dropped an email to my buddy Mooch telling him so, then spent the rest of the night ogling this beautiful antler and 'wanting to find more'...

I didn't sleep a wink and first thing Sunday morning I was up before dawn and putting my boots on. I decided I'd be a better hunter if I left the girls at home, so I fed them quick and shooed them out the backdoor then hopped in the truck and put the hammer down. As I was cruising through Four-Corners on my way headed toward the Madison Range, I was surprised to see the antler fella standing outside his chandelier shop on a Sunday; so I pulled in to bend his ear on good spots to look?

Turned out, he informed me, that aside form the young ones; spikes and whatnot; the older bulls still likely had there's on. "Hmm, so I'm not behind after all?" I asked figuring I was late to the game.

"Nope, should be happening right about now" he said.

This did little to persuade me to reconsider hauling the mail westward, and I was passing folks like they were sitting still fore long; just about shaking with excitement at finding another. Its then I spotted the tell tail signs of tourist mischief on the roadside and slowed to investigate. At least half a dozen cars and trucks had pulled over and something off in the distance had their occupants' attention?

I quickly determined what...as I spied well over 500 elk on the mountainside and another large band in the valleys' interior. Way too far off for any good pics, but I spent the next 20 minutes scanning the areas between each of their ears until I got a headache and determined the majority lacked any antlers as far as I could tell; so I floored it toward nowhere fast and once I got there I spied another truck and about rear-ended it out of anger!

"Shit!"

That was one spot I'd fantasized about all night, a slow and even climb that wouldn't wind-me too quickly, and likely a good place to start as I recalled seeing a group of bulls there a few weeks back; but now some dog walker shooting ground squirrels with his new .22 and his Lab were gonna find them first?

He said he wasn't even looking, but him being an obvious hunter, it didn't take me a minute to figure he'd grab one if he saw it. We stood and chatted a bit and it seemed he didn't mind the company, but I fell behind quickly once I figured it a waste of time and headed back to my rig to look elsewhere.

He'd mentioned "a herd of 4,000 down past the airport below Ennis", and since I'd yet to see one of these massive groups yet; I headed that way as it were only another 16 miles. Of course knowing where Ennis is and not knowing where the airport is, nor willing to stop and ask; I simply took the road I thought it'd be on "just outside town" as the fella had said, and spent the next two hours on the wrong side of the Madison River seeing plenty of trophy homes, but zero trophy elk?

Idiot.

Then I saw them and yes there were over two-thousand at least, but "4", I don't think so? Still, it was the largest I'd seen yet, but again these wise animals in mass had taken up a spot in the middle of a gigantic ranchers' pasture and the closest one could get was half-a-mile at best to them, even after circling them for fifty miles and the trucks' gas gauges heading toward 'E', as is common with me. So I simply cruised slowly scanning every blade of grass in the setting sun, now having spent the entire day behind the wheel, and looked for those telltale horns sticking out, but saw none.

Figuring I was 'well over an hour from home' and it growing dark, I decided it was time to find a paved road and head out. On the way down my last stretch of dirt I spied a small band of elk staring at me intently; so slowed to take a shot (pic posted). After zooming in it became apparent; even the young bulls in this group were still sporting their junk; so after all this it appears I'm still 'very early' and will continue next week in search of more.

The affliction still strong...

Moe