It was during my Kodiak Brown Bear hunt in the spring when I first laid eyes on Rocky Mountain Goats in the wild. We had been glassing a snow-covered mountainside for the better part of the day and never knew that a herd of about twelve goats had been lying there all along. They were invisible in the snow and it wasn't until early in the evening that we spotted them as they traveled past the outside edge of the snowline to feed on the hillside's vegetation. Over the next several days I would watch in total amazement as several bunches traversed the rugged snow-packed ledges with the ease of an afternoon stroll in the park. My thoughts at that time were that it would truly be an honor to someday hunt such a magnificent animal. Fortunately, that opportunity would come sooner than I thought.

During early summer I began researching on where, when and how to hunt Rocky Mountain Goats. My research led me to lower Alaska and to professional hunting guide Ed Toribio. Several long discussions with Ed convinced me that he knew just about everything there was to know about goat hunting. In fact, Ed recalled that three years earlier he had seen a couple of goats that were hidden away in a very steep muskeg bowl which he believed at that time could very well be "booners". Unfortunately, neither Ed nor anyone else had seen the goats since then. Nevertheless, some time around mid-summer Ed and I agreed that we would hunt in early fall in the area that he had seen the goats three years earlier. To that extent, I would optimistically acquire two mountain goat tags with the hope that my luck might strike twice.

We began the hunt by landing on a small lake that was located several miles below the area where Ed had seen the alleged "monster" goats three years earlier. The next twelve hours were spent climbing straight up an 80 degree rock-slid drainage with full packs. About three quarters of the way up my girlfriend Tonya (and hunting companion) said "no more, this is absolutely insane". Despite my siding with her, I convinced her and mostly myself that we would continue our pursuit of Mr. Boone & Mr. Crockett, no matter how insane it was.

It was two days and ten treacherous miles later that we reached an area that we would use as our base camp. After setting up our tents and tarping-off a meal area, it started to rain, and rain, and rain. It rained non-stop for two days. The continuous rain coupled with blanket fog made it impossible to goat hunt.

On day four it continued to rain but the fog had lifted just enough for us to see to the other side of the steep-curved muskeg-filled bowl. We had been glassing the area for about an hour when we spotted a goat come out from the dark timber and start to feed on the muskeg about 600 yards away. He was a nice-sized billie with about 10 1/2" horns and relatively heavy bases. We watched him feed for about 45 minutes before he went back into the dark timber.

In the early morning of day five it finally stopped raining and the fog had completely lifted. We were again glassing the steep muskeg bowl when we spotted two goats across the bowl about 1,000 yards away. After watching them for about 20 minutes or so, Ed was convinced that those were the two billies that he had seen three years
earlier.

We figured that the only way to get to them was to drop in on them from on top, i.e., through their back door. However, with their back door being at an 80 degree angle for about 250 yards, chances were that we might literally be "dropping in".

Ed asked, "What do you want to do? It's pretty steep", and I said, "Well, we didn't come all this way to back down now, so let's go see about some goats". Everyone present knowing the certain dangers involved, Tonya would remain back with assistant guide Mark Chambers to film the stalk. The plan was to traverse the top east end of the muskeg bowl, then up and over to the north end with the hope that we could get to a point where we could spot the goats from above, and then drop down far enough to a point where we hopefully could get a shot at them.

About one hour later and while we were about midway into the top east end of the muskeg bowl, Ed turned around and said to me, "There they are". Thinking Ed was joking, I responded by saying, "Sure Ed, and I suppose that next you're going to tell me that they're out in the open." Ed on a more serious note said, "I'm really not joking!" When I looked it was unbelievable. There they were, feeding about 20 yards outside of the timber and about 300 yards below us. Something inside me said, "Oh boy, now what? They're 300 yards away and there were no where to shoot from", i.e., there's no trees, the muskeg was much too high for a sitting shot, and I didn't have any type of bi- or tri-pod device.

Just as the panic started to set in, I remembered that about 20 yards back there was a small trail that the animals had worn into the foliage by cross-overs into the muskeg bowl. The worn trail was just wide enough to give me about a 12-inch shooting lane to the goats. I immediately worked my way back down to the small trail, laid down my pack, placed my rifle over it, and then readied myself for the shot.

I remember taking a good look at the each of the goats through my scope and trying to decide if any one of them was the type I was looking for. That decision came easy as both displayed incredible length and mass. Without question they were tremendous trophies and any one of them would be a hunter's dream come true. On this day, however, they were my dream come true. I first set my sights on the right upper shoulder of the goat that was closest to me. Feeling confident, I let the first round go and without any doubt it was a direct hit as the goat's front end crashed into the ground. The second goat immediately ran for the dark timber as I threw back the bolt and chambered the second round. Within seconds I was sighted on the second goat and confidently released round two which again without doubt was a direct hit as the second goat went crashing to its left and began to tumble end over end down the steep muskeg bowl.

While Ed was panting, "Unbelievable shooting", I bowed my head and acknowledged the blessing that had just been bestowed upon me. Ed and I excitedly worked our way down to the goats. We were followed shortly thereafter by the arrival of Tonya and Mark who had watched and videotaped most of the stalking and taking of the goats. After the hand shaking and such, we put the tape measure to each of the goats. Both would convincingly score well into Boone & Crockett, with the second goat shot being slightly larger than the other.

After the 60-day required drying period, the first goat shot scored an impressive and official Boone & Crockett score of 52 1/2, and the second was even more impressive at an official 53 1/4, ranking them as two of the largest goats ever to be killed in Alaska.

My gratitude goes out to Ed, Mark and Tonya for all their help and support on what will always be considered by me to be "the hunt of a lifetime".