Two very nice young men. CD is also the owner of a couple of the snowmobiles we have along on this trip.
We wake to the temperatures hovering around the zero mark at the river. Almost unheard of in this area. We hear crazy sounds in the night, to find it has been ice grinding its way down the Salmon River. In places the river has frozen completely over.
Once again the long snowmobile ride to our hunting area. This time it is with most of us riding double. We only have one machine set up for double riding the rest are the big hill climbers with the tiny seats. Makes for two grown men riding miles with your knees jammed under your chin. If you are prone to Charlie horses, the ride out at the end of a day of hard hunting can be pure pain filled misery. Our family being one of those who do suffer Charlie horses. I've witnessed many times machines parked in the middle of the trail with one of us doing a strange crouched over, screaming voodoo dance. It can be freezing cold but when our friend Charlie the horse visits, you are streaming sweat down your face while doing the dance.
At the snow machine parking place we split into groups of two and scatter to cover the mountains. We hunt hard all day in ankle deep snow and freezing ground. The breaks of the Salmon river are extremely steep, making very difficult walking in good conditions, add snow and frozen ground and it becomes almost impossible to traverse side hill, let alone straight down or back up.
We meet back at the sleds at three, wore out and a little discouraged. Mike and I have spotted some elk clear at the bottom of the breaks, but way out of our range for shooting and much too far for packing back up on your backs.
Riding the machines out that evening, we pull start one of the sleds to have the pull rope snap, but luckily the machine has started so we just keep it running till it is loaded on the trailer late that night.
Back at camp the temperatures have plunged to zero and everything is frozen. All our bottled water is rock hard, pop left in the back of the truck is frozen and burst, lunch meat is in solid bricks, all our canned goods are frozen into the cans. It is nothing short of miserable. Ah... the hunt from hell.
In the dark we set out to repair the pull rope on the snow machine. The exhaust has to come off and then the pull starter dis-assembled. We find that the rope has gone through the engaging teeth of the starter and it lies in the bottom of the sled in tiny plastic pieces! We will need a new starter assembly.
The only snowmobile shop is about 60 miles away in McCall.
Jimmy agrees to give up the next day's hunt to make the run for parts.
It is late night when we tarp the broken sled and eat a quick supper around the fire that just can't quite keep up with the bitter cold.
The weather forecast is calling for a week of the same. Cold, cold, and bitter cold!
We have the snow we were needing, but the cold is something we have never dealt with on this hunt.
I talk to Mike that evening telling him our only chance to bag an elk is to have someone hike miles down near the river and try to spook the elk into higher country. Looking at our party of hunters, we quickly realize that lovely task will fall upon our shoulders... or should I say legs.
We make our plans to make the brutal hike, in dangerous conditions, and see what comes of it.
The next morning we once again make the long snow machine ride to the hunting area. Some of the guys are nearing frost bite on faces and hands from the ride in sub-zero temperatures. It is almost crazy cold on that mountain face.
Mike and I make the insane hike to just above the ice choked river and sure enough, get into herds of elk. We take pictures of the vast herds but know we cannot shoot one this far down the mountain.
At least our presence has the desired effect and a huge herd moves up the mountain towards some of our other hunters. (we find out later that the frozen ground has made it impossible for our other guys to hike down their ridges to where the elk moved to).
Mike and I make it back to the sleds just before dark. Cold, wet, and dreading the ten mile ride to the truck.
Half way down the mountain to the truck, CD's sled begins to act up. It is not running well at all and making all kinds of bad sounds. He knows he cannot stop to warm up or let the others catch up. He keeps it running until the rest of us get to the trailer and get the ramp down for him to load the machine.
When he shuts it down, it will not restart.
Back at camp Jimmy has the starter installed on the other broken machine, and once again we tear into the newly broken machine. It is so cold that we have to work with heavy gloved on making the work drag on into the night.
We find that the clutch on CD's machine is gone! Another run to McCall in the morning is needed.
Jimmy once again says he will make the run.
At the trailers we find that Gary's trailer has run out of propane heat and all the water lines are frozen and broken. He opens all the drawers, cabinets, and bed areas after running to Riggins to get more propane in the bottles.
The hunt from hell is living up to its code!
to be continued...
one of the herds of elk we spotted near the river
late night finish working on the snowmobiles
No comments:
Post a Comment