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We got it right, despite sometimes doing it wrong
By Tim Renken Of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch
10/16/2002
Outdoors reporter Tim Renken began in April writing about his plans and preparation for a once-in-a-lifetime trip to hunt elk in Montana with his son. They hunted in the Bob Marshall Wilderness during the first week of October. This is the last of three stories about their adventure.
KALISPELL, Mont. - We survived. We hadn't put that on our list of priorities when we began planning our Big Deal Hunt a year ago. We never thought about it. But surviving topped the list during that miserable night in the woods and the struggle out of them.
Tim, my 38-year-old son, bagged an elk. That was third or fourth on our pre-hunt list of priorities. For both of us, of course, it was a major thrill.
No. 1 on that list was having a wilderness experience. We sure had that. Riding, walking, hunting, camping and just being in the beautiful mountains of the Bob Marshall Wilderness left indelible memories. But being caught by darkness, soaking wet, with rain, cold, snow, no shelter and no chance of rescue was way too wild.
The margin of survival in that experience was so thin that the occurrence of one of any entirely likely incidents might have put at least me over the edge. What if the drizzle had turned into a downpour that extinguished our lifesaving fire? What if one of our many falls had resulted in a concussion, sprain, broken bone or other debilitating injury? In 40-, then 30-degree temperatures, hypothermia can strike quickly when a person is fall-in-the-creek wet.
We made some serious mistakes. Our novice guide made a big navigation error, greatly lengthening the hike out. He also kept hunting too long. By the time he'd gutted the elk there was no time to get out before dark. Before we had even started working that elk he should have said, "Hey, guys, we either go now or spend the night in the woods."
I had dressed poorly for the hunt - too many cotton clothes. I'd left my rain gear with our horses, where it did me no good. We failed to carry several small essentials. Tim and I had no flashlights. Phelps, also wearing cotton jeans, had no survival "space blanket." He did wear a waterproof hunting coat, with hood, however. Tim, a Minnesotan now, was the only one dressed right.
We had told no one where we were going. Had an emergency search begun, as almost happened, searchers would not have known where to start.
Our outfitter, Spotted Bear Ranch, of Kalispell, Mont., made errors, too. They should require their guides to carry minimal survival equipment and to leave word of where they plan to go.
Phelps was solid after struggling momentarily with panic. He is a skilled hunter and physically very strong. He offered to carry me out once when I thought I couldn't get up, and I'm certain he would have at least tried to do so.
I regretted that I lacked the endurance of the other two men. My 64 3/4-year-old legs kept all of us from getting out earlier. My years of walking and months of stationary bike riding and stair climbing didn't prepare me for getting through that burn or down miles of nearly impassable creek. This incident occurred in the fourth day of our hunt, and I was less than fresh when we started.
Spotted Bear, though, is an outfitter of excellent reputation and seems genuinely devoted to providing a quality, fun hunting experience. The food in camp, prepared by Shannon Phelps, John's wife, was excellent. The equipment, staff, riding horses and pack stock were first-rate. Would I hunt with them again or would I use them as a fishing outfitter? Sure would.
Would I hunt with Phelps again? Yes, after he has had a little time to mature as a guide. We liked him and still do. Will I hunt elk in the wilderness again? Probably not. Wilderness elk hunting, done right, is a younger man's sport.
The rugged beauty of northwestern Montana is a huge magnet. And the wilderness has a powerful presence that is palpable every minute. At one instant it can seem warm, friendly and inviting. In an eye-blink it can seem harsh, even brutal.
This adventure started after last year's Missouri deer hunt when Tim noticed how slowly I was moving after a long weekend of hunting. He said we'd better do this long-discussed, once-in-a-lifetime hunt while I still could. We decided to make it a celebration of our 30 years of hunting and fishing together.
So there is a literary, even slightly eerie, symmetry to this tale. We'll have a lot to talk about during our annual deer hunt this fall and in the autumns ahead.
By Tim Renken Of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch
10/16/2002
Outdoors reporter Tim Renken began in April writing about his plans and preparation for a once-in-a-lifetime trip to hunt elk in Montana with his son. They hunted in the Bob Marshall Wilderness during the first week of October. This is the last of three stories about their adventure.
KALISPELL, Mont. - We survived. We hadn't put that on our list of priorities when we began planning our Big Deal Hunt a year ago. We never thought about it. But surviving topped the list during that miserable night in the woods and the struggle out of them.
Tim, my 38-year-old son, bagged an elk. That was third or fourth on our pre-hunt list of priorities. For both of us, of course, it was a major thrill.
No. 1 on that list was having a wilderness experience. We sure had that. Riding, walking, hunting, camping and just being in the beautiful mountains of the Bob Marshall Wilderness left indelible memories. But being caught by darkness, soaking wet, with rain, cold, snow, no shelter and no chance of rescue was way too wild.
The margin of survival in that experience was so thin that the occurrence of one of any entirely likely incidents might have put at least me over the edge. What if the drizzle had turned into a downpour that extinguished our lifesaving fire? What if one of our many falls had resulted in a concussion, sprain, broken bone or other debilitating injury? In 40-, then 30-degree temperatures, hypothermia can strike quickly when a person is fall-in-the-creek wet.
We made some serious mistakes. Our novice guide made a big navigation error, greatly lengthening the hike out. He also kept hunting too long. By the time he'd gutted the elk there was no time to get out before dark. Before we had even started working that elk he should have said, "Hey, guys, we either go now or spend the night in the woods."
I had dressed poorly for the hunt - too many cotton clothes. I'd left my rain gear with our horses, where it did me no good. We failed to carry several small essentials. Tim and I had no flashlights. Phelps, also wearing cotton jeans, had no survival "space blanket." He did wear a waterproof hunting coat, with hood, however. Tim, a Minnesotan now, was the only one dressed right.
We had told no one where we were going. Had an emergency search begun, as almost happened, searchers would not have known where to start.
Our outfitter, Spotted Bear Ranch, of Kalispell, Mont., made errors, too. They should require their guides to carry minimal survival equipment and to leave word of where they plan to go.
Phelps was solid after struggling momentarily with panic. He is a skilled hunter and physically very strong. He offered to carry me out once when I thought I couldn't get up, and I'm certain he would have at least tried to do so.
I regretted that I lacked the endurance of the other two men. My 64 3/4-year-old legs kept all of us from getting out earlier. My years of walking and months of stationary bike riding and stair climbing didn't prepare me for getting through that burn or down miles of nearly impassable creek. This incident occurred in the fourth day of our hunt, and I was less than fresh when we started.
Spotted Bear, though, is an outfitter of excellent reputation and seems genuinely devoted to providing a quality, fun hunting experience. The food in camp, prepared by Shannon Phelps, John's wife, was excellent. The equipment, staff, riding horses and pack stock were first-rate. Would I hunt with them again or would I use them as a fishing outfitter? Sure would.
Would I hunt with Phelps again? Yes, after he has had a little time to mature as a guide. We liked him and still do. Will I hunt elk in the wilderness again? Probably not. Wilderness elk hunting, done right, is a younger man's sport.
The rugged beauty of northwestern Montana is a huge magnet. And the wilderness has a powerful presence that is palpable every minute. At one instant it can seem warm, friendly and inviting. In an eye-blink it can seem harsh, even brutal.
This adventure started after last year's Missouri deer hunt when Tim noticed how slowly I was moving after a long weekend of hunting. He said we'd better do this long-discussed, once-in-a-lifetime hunt while I still could. We decided to make it a celebration of our 30 years of hunting and fishing together.
So there is a literary, even slightly eerie, symmetry to this tale. We'll have a lot to talk about during our annual deer hunt this fall and in the autumns ahead.
