Darren Best
WKR
The thread about the evolution of back country hunting and the other about the fish and game chat got me to thinking about how much elk hunting has changed since I went on my first hunt at the age of 12 in 1978.
Back then, high tech clothing was Filson wool, a top end rifle was a wood stocked Sako bought off the shelf. A wood packboard was the main tool for getting your elk out, bones and all, I never saw anyone bone anything out, never. If you had horses you were living it up.
When I finally started having extra money to spend on hunting gear, I got enough to stuff a full size 3/4 truck to the gills. 14 X 16 wall tent, cast iron wood stove, you read that right, it took two guys to get it in and out of the truck. Clothes drying rack, tables, chairs and chuck box. Chain saw and assorted tools and a dirt bike.
Now all my gear fits into a light weight backpack. Heck my backpack weighs less than my day pack did back then. My first back country hunt was in the Selway Bitterroot wilderness in 1995, unit 17 I think. My pack was a Coleman Peak 1, you know the one with the frame you could bend. My pack weighed 55 pounds. I had some cheap sleeping bag that weighed 5 pounds and I froze like a popsicle. We came across some packers and they were confused about what we were doing out there, I had just gotten over bronchitis so the elevation was hell on my lungs.
You guys are hardcore and I mean that in a positive way. The old timers back then, their main focus was drinking beer and getting away from the family for a week. Everyone knew where the elk were, it was just a matter of doing the work to pack out of what ever hell hole you shot it in.
Hell no one even packed rain gear then, all my daily hunting stuff fit in my pockets. No compass, no map, no matches, no glass and no GPS. A knife, sandwich and a candy bar was it, I drank water from any stream or creek I came across.
I got lost one time near the Montana border when I was 14, I had a knife, blue jeans on, no hat, no gloves, leather boots, cotton socks, flannel shirt and maybe a wool coat. Lucky for me I found a marker I had set the day before and figured out where I was. You think I was afraid of dying out there, oh hell no, I was more afraid of the beating I was going to get when my step dad had to call search and rescue to find my sorry butt.
Avery turned into a boom town each fall, they used to have a full skeleton in a glass case in the bar. There was a diner just down the road from there, you couldn't find a place to sit in October, last I saw it was closed, I can't even remember the name of it, just down the road from Marble creek road.
I remember getting a coat and pants made from polar fleece which I thought was just awesome because of how fast it dried. Every day you went out, got soaked to the skin, go back to camp and dry all your stuff out. Then do it all over again the next day.
We used to go down to the bar on Monday night and drink beer and watch football. Of course everyone always rolled out of camp late the next day.
If one of us all decked out in our new gear stepped out of our truck in a elk camp in 1978, you would of thought aliens had landed, I don't doubt it for a minute.
There is more, a whole lot of what went on then would be considered unethical today.
It was definitely different, attitudes are different and the focus. No one cared about antlers then, you just killed the first elk you saw and called it good. In fact I probably would of gotten beat for passing up a cow or spike and holding out for a 6 X 6.
You should of seen the first elk bugles, a brass metal tube, but it actually worked, I'm sure it weighed a couple pounds. A guy in our camp brought one and used it, called a bull right to him, it almost ran him over, shot him with a 300 H&H at 20 feet right on the main trail no less.
My biggest regret is not carrying a camera for all the things I did and saw all those years.
Makes me wonder what elk hunting will be like in another 35 years.
Back then, high tech clothing was Filson wool, a top end rifle was a wood stocked Sako bought off the shelf. A wood packboard was the main tool for getting your elk out, bones and all, I never saw anyone bone anything out, never. If you had horses you were living it up.
When I finally started having extra money to spend on hunting gear, I got enough to stuff a full size 3/4 truck to the gills. 14 X 16 wall tent, cast iron wood stove, you read that right, it took two guys to get it in and out of the truck. Clothes drying rack, tables, chairs and chuck box. Chain saw and assorted tools and a dirt bike.
Now all my gear fits into a light weight backpack. Heck my backpack weighs less than my day pack did back then. My first back country hunt was in the Selway Bitterroot wilderness in 1995, unit 17 I think. My pack was a Coleman Peak 1, you know the one with the frame you could bend. My pack weighed 55 pounds. I had some cheap sleeping bag that weighed 5 pounds and I froze like a popsicle. We came across some packers and they were confused about what we were doing out there, I had just gotten over bronchitis so the elevation was hell on my lungs.
You guys are hardcore and I mean that in a positive way. The old timers back then, their main focus was drinking beer and getting away from the family for a week. Everyone knew where the elk were, it was just a matter of doing the work to pack out of what ever hell hole you shot it in.
Hell no one even packed rain gear then, all my daily hunting stuff fit in my pockets. No compass, no map, no matches, no glass and no GPS. A knife, sandwich and a candy bar was it, I drank water from any stream or creek I came across.
I got lost one time near the Montana border when I was 14, I had a knife, blue jeans on, no hat, no gloves, leather boots, cotton socks, flannel shirt and maybe a wool coat. Lucky for me I found a marker I had set the day before and figured out where I was. You think I was afraid of dying out there, oh hell no, I was more afraid of the beating I was going to get when my step dad had to call search and rescue to find my sorry butt.
Avery turned into a boom town each fall, they used to have a full skeleton in a glass case in the bar. There was a diner just down the road from there, you couldn't find a place to sit in October, last I saw it was closed, I can't even remember the name of it, just down the road from Marble creek road.
I remember getting a coat and pants made from polar fleece which I thought was just awesome because of how fast it dried. Every day you went out, got soaked to the skin, go back to camp and dry all your stuff out. Then do it all over again the next day.
We used to go down to the bar on Monday night and drink beer and watch football. Of course everyone always rolled out of camp late the next day.
If one of us all decked out in our new gear stepped out of our truck in a elk camp in 1978, you would of thought aliens had landed, I don't doubt it for a minute.
There is more, a whole lot of what went on then would be considered unethical today.
It was definitely different, attitudes are different and the focus. No one cared about antlers then, you just killed the first elk you saw and called it good. In fact I probably would of gotten beat for passing up a cow or spike and holding out for a 6 X 6.
You should of seen the first elk bugles, a brass metal tube, but it actually worked, I'm sure it weighed a couple pounds. A guy in our camp brought one and used it, called a bull right to him, it almost ran him over, shot him with a 300 H&H at 20 feet right on the main trail no less.
My biggest regret is not carrying a camera for all the things I did and saw all those years.
Makes me wonder what elk hunting will be like in another 35 years.