Darold Stanton and Travis Reggear at hunting camp.
Sudden Elk Camp
By Charlie Pottenger
For a year, friends talked enthusiastically of a future elk hunt that they would take as only one of them had consistently failed to get a bull in the past. Many conversations about the wonders of sharing stories in elk camp, riding and caring for horses, cooking in the dim light of morning and evening followed by sleeping in a tent for night after night were repeated throughout the year, but no plan or timetable for this adventure ever developed. However, each of the friends warmly anticipated the trip even though the duties and obligations of daily routines seemed always to move the “hunt” from the present into the future.
For those that have never hunted the Idaho back country on horse or mule back there will always be an unfulfilled adventure awaiting you. These majestic, hard working and willing servants will gladly carry you, your equipment and your camp gear virtually anywhere your heart desires. It is one of God’s many gifts to have allowed man to utilize the tremendous strength and agility of these animals who will toil all day so long as they are rewarded with rest, good hay and water each night. They will carry you up steep trails, across precarious ledges and show you Idaho as you will never see it from your car, on your ATV or on television.
Without the plan, the “hunt” always drifted away until the magnificent call. One recent day two of the three men, who often work together, finished a job and decided they were going to roundup their gear, supplies and six animals and head out to elk hunt. This decision was taken at mid-day and a scramble to find clothes, binoculars, food, beverages, tents, tarps, hay, grain, and water began. By late afternoon the trio, as a young son had joined in, was ready to roll and loaded four mules and two horses and all the gear into two horse trailers and two trucks and set out to camp in the Lolo area where antlered elk season was open for a few more days. As they left Orofino a call message was left for the third saying they were going out to seek elk and if he wanted to come along they would send him word in the next day or so.
Upon receiving the message, number three assembled his gear and went about his routine hoping for a call. As much as he wanted to get going, he had no idea as to where they had gone and even had to guess as to which hunting license zone they were headed. After seeing there was only one zone where antlered elk season ended soon, he gambled and bought a tag for the Lolo Zone. Then he waited.
The two decision-makers drove up Highway 12 past Three Rivers intending to make camp at a site they had used years before. They almost made it when a tire blew on a horse trailer carrying the stock. This development delayed their arrival until well after dark and then they were faced with the daunting tasks of stock care and setting up camp in the dark. They elected to care for the stock and then spread sleeping bags in the horse trailer and deferred setting camp until morning.
At sunrise, they began to assemble the tent frame and shortly thereafter were greeted by two friends, one with a young son who had driven from Orofino for a day hunt. The four all pitched in and with such willing help soon had a camp neatly arranged.
Later that night, about 8:30 p.m., the brothers relayed word via a wife to wife communication tree to the third guy saying, “If you want to go elk hunting head for elk camp tomorrow morning!” Not too much detail, so after a few frantic calls an arrangement was made with the brothers, who planned another day hunt, to meet in front of the Clearwater Tribune at 5 a.m. and follow them to the mysterious elk camp. About 7 a.m. the two truck entourage arrived at the campsite in a steady, drizzly rain embedded in dense mist hanging on the hillsides.
From that moment on the three began to savor their time together and the beauties of the Idaho backcountry. Arriving at the camp, escorted by the brothers, the group met and shared a camp breakfast of fried summer sausage, eggs and steaming strong coffee as a steady drizzle soaked the area and heavy mist masked the hills. For the entire morning seven hunters sat in the tent enjoying the stove and awaiting better weather. There were five adults and two fine young men and the stories told were an education for all. Later in the day the brothers decided to brave the elements and seek an elk as they were hunting afoot. The others decided to wait for better weather the next day.
The next day began as a copy of the rainy morning the previous day. The day hunters arrived from Orofino in time for another camp breakfast after which they headed out for another day’s hunt afoot. The rain stopped about mid-morning and the mist began to burn off. Lunches were made, horses and mules saddled for riding and the pack mules loaded. That’s when hunter #3 became aware that he was the only hunter and would carry the only rifle. The other two, along with a thirteen year-old son, had done all the preparations and work just to provide him an opportunity to harvest a bull! These are true friends!
The weather tried to cooperate as the clouds lifted and the rain was intermittent and light. Camp was left on a single file ride into the world renowned Lolo Zone in Idaho’s premier elk country.
The narrow trail led upward and wound over sometimes rocky always challenging mountainsides past dozens of black bear killed red fir trees. In the spring bears climb trees to find younger bark which they remove with their claws and then lick the oozing sugar laden sap. The claw scrapes girdle the trees and they die. This was an education in forest depredation as a sidelight to an elk expedition.
Five steep upward miles brought the column into the snow and the four never saw any evidence of elk or deer. After reaching the snow it was further emphasized that the only recent movement in that drainage had been a lone rabbit and at least one wolf. Seven grueling miles and the decision was made to reverse course and let our equine mounts bring us safely back to camp where thoughts turned to camp supper.
By the time the group reached the camp, horses, mules and hunters were single-mindedly thinking of supper. First the stock were cared for, equipment re-stowed and then preparation for dinner began. Anticipating the return of the Orofino day hunters frozen steaks were placed on the tent stove to thaw, potatoes were grated as were onions to create griddle fried skin-on red potatoes and a new pot of strong percolated coffee appeared.
Finally thawed, the steaks were marinated in a chef’s secret brew and then the hot griddle sizzled with frying potatoes which were eaten hot as soon as finished while the steaks, huge rib-eyes, hit the hot plate. Washed down with hot coffee, slabs of bear meat pepperoni and pepperjack cheese the campers anticipated the just right steaks. The steaks didn’t disappoint and were the perfect finish to a perfect day. Even with no discovery of game, all hit the sleeping bag by 8:30 p.m. and soundly rest.
The next morning again the crew from Orofino arrive for a little breakfast. This time it is fried eggs along with another course of fried potatoes prepared on the trusty camp griddle. Coffee and apple juice finish the meal.
Debating the strategy for the day, camper #3 offers an idea. Why not let the horses rest and drive over to another area within the Lolo Zone and look for elk sign? A defense to rest a horse pounded butt after discovering an old truth, a rider needs many hours in the saddle before he attempts to spend a whole day in the saddle. Everyone agrees and the exploration proceeds for about six hours glassing mountainsides and canyons all day. In one remote spot a herd of seven elk cows was observed and two other elk track signs were crossed.
Again, to camp where the animals were happy to see the return of their meal tickets. After feeding stock, a great spaghetti feed was prepared and devoured. After more camp talk of hunting, horses and friendship the Orofino hunters headed downriver.
While talking muzzleloading guns a call from outside brought a late night visitor, a Lolo Zone outfitter who had just completed packing out a remote campsite he used for elk hunting. We shared stories and lamented the presence of wolf sign and the absence of elk. The outfitter explained that this business was in jeopardy because his clients, many of which had been to his camps for years, were not returning and he probably cannot survive if hunters can’t find elk. We offered him dinner, but he declined as he still had a few miles to go in the dark and several head of pack animals to unload before he could relax.
After another cozy night in the wood fire heated tent the morning routine repeats. This time it is a twelve egg omelet with cheddar cheese and the wonderful fried potatoes washed down with black coffee and apple juice.
This day once again, the hunt will be on horseback in new drainage. We saddle up and trailer to an area about five miles downriver and find a trail even steeper and more precarious than the one at camp. Five miles up and five miles back in some of the most beautiful country in Idaho and the only evidence of game was a lone ruffed grouse and two sets of elk slides down the near vertical slopes. Another great day for friends that hunt, and another testament as to the apparent devastating impact of burgeoning wolf depredation of elk and deer.
Although Idaho Fish and Game insists wolves are not significantly reducing elk and deer populations, these three hunters and at least the outfitter we met in the night think they are wrong. We think the wolves are moving toward the larger deer and elk populations to the west and that Clearwater County will soon be overrun.
As for us, we are planning again for next year, but promised to commit to a place and a date months before rather than take another sudden elk hunt. However, a successful hunt doesn’t need to score on game. It just needs to reward friendship!