Majority of society thinks mountain hunting is just a club, were you have to be a cool kid to join. The reality of mountain hunting is so much more than one can imagine, the base of mountain hunting tells you who we are and what you can become. Mountain hunting is something that tests you emotionally, push you physically and makes you question yourself on why you hunt. Those who are passionate about this type of hunting would say it is the hard days that make you want more. It sounds hard to believe to those who have not experienced it. Mountain hunting is not a romantic story tale, where the cowboy comes and saves the Princess from the roaring grizzly bear. It is a story that tells you who you are and what you can become. Every mountain hunter has his own story. No matter what kind of hunting you do it will vary from person to person. There is always a common thread that links us all together.

The testing of the mountains can be long. Specially, when it comes to handling the unseen. A hunter can be glassing for hours, if not days without seeing a mature harvest. When you are not seeing those you desire, one can get discouraged. Yet, know that tomorrow will bring an another day. I have glassed hundreds of hours of mountain slopes in search of mature game only to spot potential harvests. The animals that hurts ones emotions the most are the mountain sheep. There have been spent countless hours by sheep guides and hunters only to end the day with hope of a promising tomorrow. As a guide you get emotionally involved in the hunt. Your goal is to find the mature ram for your hunter, you do not want to let the hunter or the Outfitter down. You sometimes feel the weight of the responsibility.

Now imagine sitting in the hills, and you hear the wind howl past your ears and watch a mixture of precipitation blow side ways. Feeling the temperature drop while your nose starts to run, eyes begin to water and your feet and hands slowly freeze. You start to feel the tingling of your limbs and you start to shake from the inside out. Physically you are getting weaker. Now it is a mental game you have to play. You grab a bar to eat to re-fuel your tank, rub your hands together trying to warm up and counteract those feelings, but slowly the weather is peeling your layers back to the point where you want to break down.

Once, I was guiding a sheep hunt in mid August when the weather made a turn for the worst. It started out with rain and ended with over 18” of snow, not counting the snow drifts that where over our knees. At that point we were trapped in our tents for a week, just waiting for a break in weather. We learned that you can only play cards and sleep for so long in a day. Having been prepared for a summer sheep hunt all my gear was summer based, not having any late season clothes for the cold temperatures. At one point our tent became an entrapment, at least it felt like it. My air mattress developed a tiny hole that had a slow leak that I could not find and fix. I would lay in the tent wearing everything I had trying to stay warm. I would watch the condensation on the roof of the tent roll down to the side walls while I would slowly get closer to the ground. Waking up in the middle of the night was the worst because I would roll over trying not to wake up anyone and refill my mattress as I laid on it. The cold was no ones friend. As the days slowly melted together the cold depleted us. Hope was all we had while waiting for for a change in the weather. At one point we got enough of a break we where able to glass. Glassing the snowy cover mountains slopes proved to be tougher than expected. Not because of the snow covered landscape; but the deprivation that was felt over those days. I wanted to start to cave to my emotions. Everything I felt was real, the lack of quality sleep, cold in my bones and the lack of motivation. My body was telling me something I have not felt in a long time, tiredness. I knew I had to stay mentally strong. I could not cave to the emotion of self-pity. Even though everything I was feeling was real, but it felt so wrong at the same time. As a guide you have to keep up the spirit for the hunter and anyone else in camp. This environment was merciless and knowing that there were 8 more days, made it tougher. Knowing we could not just go back to the lodge.

Channeling everything I had into my goal now I had to find a mature and legal ram. Getting myself more comfortable in my new situation, then I started to spot game. With my frozen hands I raised the binoculars up to my face, spotted and saw a small group of young rams, ewes and lambs. That was all I needed to feel joy fill my soul. Then the sun broke through the thick veil of cloud and kissed my cheeks and wrapped me in warmth. It was just the right amount of warmth I needed at that moment. Even though the sheep we spotted were not what we were looking for, it was the dove with the green branch. It was the sign of life that gave me the hope to keep going. Otherwise, the desperate state and vulnerable weather conditions would have broken me. As I looked over to the others, I saw similar joy across their faces, especially the hunter. It wasn’t until close to the end when the weather finally let up, and we were able to touch our harvest, an amazing Sheep, finally an end to the struggle. The true reason for why we do what we do, the smiles and the amazing feeling of the accomplishment. The hunter’s smile was priceless as he held his treasure. That was the moment that reminded me why I don’t lose hope and give into the inner battles against man verse nature.

Think back to the most physically demanding hunt you have done? What comes to mind as you reflect back? Was it the steady down pour of rain while traveling difficult terrain, then ending up in a tough situation? I remember another hunt that challenged me to my limits. Carrying the heaviest load in my career. It was a mountain goat hunt, turning caribou hunt that was the most physically demanding hunt. One morning we left our alpine spike camp in search of an old billy in the bluffs behind camp. We ended up harvesting a beautiful and mature caribou bull mid morning. After hours spent caring for the harvest and taking pictures we hiked back to spike camp. We got in a bit late so we decided to over night and leave in the morning for the base camp. That night the weather rolled in and it rained all night and that morning. By 9 a.m we said we had to commit to getting back if we were going to make it back to base camp in the daylight. By 11 a.m we were all packed up and ready to go. We knew at this point it was going to be a heavy pack out. Thinking it would take 6 hours to get back to camp it gave us the enthusiasm needed to get over the weight of the packs.

As a crow flies it was four miles but as a moose travels, mileage unknown. Our packs tapped out to the point were we could not fit our rain flies over them. Packing out a full caribou on top of a camp proved to be a true chore. About an hour and a halve in the hike I knew that everything I was wearing was wet, except my boots. At one point in the hike I stepped in a muskeg hole that went knee deep, my boots were officially wet. At this point we had to commit in making it back to base camp, because everything we had was soaked. Sleeping under the thick spruce canopy was not an option we wanted at any point in the trip. Every time we had a larger break I would take off my pack to let my body have a break. My hips were sore from carrying all that weight. When we got out of the side valley and into the main valley I knew we where getting close to our destination. We connected with the main trail and we were cooking back to camp. I knew at one point in the hike we were going to have to make a small trip by boat. Then the cabin would be a short walk. When we reached the lake I felt heavenly, because I knew it was only a 15 minute boat trip back to the cabin. Due to the fact our packs weighed so much we decided to leave our packs on one end and shuttle our hunter to camp first. It was dark and visibility with the headlamps was not the greatest. The light was breaking up due to the rain fall making it even harder to see at this point.

When we reached the other side to drop the hunter off. It was a breaking point of the whole trip. Even though we bush bashing tight subalpine fir for 4 hours, pretending to be a gymnast over fallen trees, and tried to pick the best path through floating muskeg. The breaking point proved to be when we made it to our base camp. It was the fact we proved physically we could pack out everything but our inner person was telling us to get some rest. Looking back it was the best decision ever made. We were so physically tired that going back would have been too risky, with the weather and how we felt. Thankfully we had spare clothes to change into, dry shelter and the satisfaction of accomplishment.

Next day, we woke up and could feel the soreness and other muscle groups we didn’t know we had. The pain felt kinda good because it was a sign of completion of a task, now we could moose hunt. This hunt was the most physically demanding hunt solely on the duration of the hike out and having the challenges of the weather conditions. There was times in those rest stops where we all asked ourselves, the question why do we do what we do? Overall, it was the adventure and breaking the mold of having normality and getting back to our roots. As well as, the lifestyle that guiding and hunting provides, makes us all want to be physically able to be successful.

What are your best moment in your hunting career? Was it when you made memories with families members hunting or was it harvesting that dream animal? For me it is having the ability to look back in my career and see my growth. It started out with not getting into trouble in November for skipping school to tag a long with the guide in deer camp and slowly revolved into being a guide. The steps consisted of doing grunt work like fueling truck, gutting deer to ending up making the decision on where and how we are going to accomplish the goal. As I get older the awareness of the competition in this industry make me want to grow even more. Having a solid foundation I can comfortably expand on more. Because of my experiences and failures which have led me to my success as a woman in this industry. Do not get me wrong I still have lots to learn because it is a business that has constant changes. Hunting is so much more than just pulling the trigger. Hunting and guiding has been a career filled with the great accomplishment, like adventure and build live long friendships. Of course there are some lows, like bad weather.

Overall, I would say to any individual who says hunting is just a sport. It is more than just a sport. They are no refs to call your bad plays or defend you against bad players. The only rule book is a self written past down from generation to generation through spending time with those in the wilderness. Whether you are in the tough mountain terrain or in the vast prairies. Hunting is passion, and the love for it or not. No matter your skill set. Newer and trending gear might make life a bit easier but there is nothing wrong with second hand gear, because it is not the gear that makes you shine. But there is one thing that I believe we all can agree on, hunting is not something you can define based on how others perceive it. Hunting is unique to the individual but the common thread that links us all together is the fire that burns inside our heart. It is the heart inside the hunter that fuels the go. To all those who have not yet experienced it, go out and experience it for yourself.