Grit and Persistence Brings Success
The hum of the highway had put me into a relaxed trance as I looked out the window of our Astro van my mind wondering as I would get lost in the big sky, the golden fields of grass and the endless mountain ranges. Our large family would soon be arriving at the Livingston Montana KOA for another family reunion. As my forehead rested on the cool glass window I told myself that one day I would live here, that I would explore those mountains and run through the valleys, I would become a woman who ran with the wolves.
The gravel road was a welcoming sound as I made my way along the Ruby River Valley located just outside of Alder Montana. Clenching the steering wheel, my eyes were locked on the breathtaking view from my windshield. That spirit I felt as a young girl was still there as I was about to enter into a new chapter of my life. My boyfriend at the time supported my choice to come to Montana and guide for Upper Canyon Outfitters for five weeks but it didn’t take long and that relationship I too was leaving behind, for I would no longer tolerate the lack of trust and respect. I would no longer be held back from pursuing my dreams and stay in a relationship I was not trusted. I had a new slate and would soon find a family with the employees and clients as we guided elk and mule deer hunts. My life suddenly had a new trajectory and my excited heart welcomed it.
All was quiet when I pulled up to the lodge just before dark as the guides were in town at a local bar. My feet wanted to move underneath me so off I went walking around the property I would be calling home the next six weeks. The evening sky was painted by a gray blue haze, and just the slight subtlety of light pink. The cottonwood trees still held onto their bright orange and yellow leaves and in the dim light they brought a pop of color to the valley I stood on. Taking in a deep breath I could feel an energy so powerful and grounding. The endless surrounding mountains and the cool evening breeze told me I was right where I was suppose to be, and that life once again would soon bring change.
The grounds the lodge sits on was once used by the Shoshone Indians as a place where fighting and killing would not be tolerated here, as this was a place of peace and acceptance. I could feel this deep within my soul upon arriving here and with each client I guided they too were consumed in it. Having experienced sexual harassment at the previous outfitter along with the overall disrespect from the owners and then going through a breakup filled with accusations I knew I was going be okay as the energy those wild Indians created here warmed my heart, and brought peace within.
Arriving well before season I wanted to learn as much land as possible before stepping foot onto it with cliental.
First Season at Upper Canyon Outfitters
The first week of season I had the pleasure of guiding a woman who won this hunt through Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. As a new hunter she was estactic to be pursing elk for the first time. At age 57 and having asthma it took Sherine a bit longer to hike the mountains, but step by step she conquered each day. The first snow storm dropped half a foot of snow creating even more difficult conditions to navigate the steep mountain. After two days of low hanging clouds and limited visibility we welcomed the sunny blue skies. After being hunkered down during the storms the elk and deer were happy to feast and they too soaked in the sunshine. Sitting on top of a ridge line we watched hundreds of elk feed out, calling as they went. Unfortunately we could only shoot a cow on that particular piece of private property and overall it was too far of a shot for Sherine so we decided to head back to camp. As we made our way down the snow blown ridge a herd of elk was headed our way from the dark timber. They were 400 yards away, too far of a shot for Sherine so we made quick work of closing off another 100 yards. A beautiful dark antlered bull with 6 points on each side, brought up the rear of the herd as they fed into a meadow just 250 yards below us. Setting Sherine up on her shooting sticks she took aim, fired, and missed. “Rack another round!” I told her, as the elk were confused by what just happened. Taking two more shots and missing both, the elk ran off and with heavy hearts we headed back to camp. The next day we sat in the same spot, and felt confident due to seeing the same herd bedding on the next ridge line over earlier that morning. We would spend the day under a tall pine tree, sitting around a small fire and connecting as women in the field. We talked about life, its hardships and it’s triumphs. Time went by quick and soon the temperatures started to cool off and the mule deer were up and feeding. We watched a mature 4x4 buck feed on a ridge line roughly 400 yards away. Soon more deer appeared below us at just 250 yards, as another buck pushed around his does. Sherine set up her rifle on a tree branch and braced herself into the tree, holding the rifle snug at her shoulder. All we needed was for the buck to turn broadside for a shot. Looking over her shoulder Sherine see’s another great buck dropping down from the skyline as he walked head-on towards us. Swinging her gun around we wait for the buck to offer a shot and once again she pulls the trigger at 100 yards and misses. Every deer on that mountain took off running and soon the mountain was quiet again. Feeling defeated and humbled we made our way back down the snowy mountain to camp. Sitting down at dinner my clients informed me they were going to leave in the morning. I could tell that Sherine was shaken up, and was trying not to be hard on herself. We chatted over dinner and I asked her to spend one last morning with me, simply to end it on a good note and to soak in our past 4 days. I told her to sleep on it and to shoot me a massage in the morning. That next morning I receive a message from Sherine saying, “Good morning! Let’s go out for the morning. Don’t want to hike much but want to enjoy our last day.”
Getting settled in the three of us stand in front of a small spruce waiting for the big herd of elk to funnel in. Just after daylight several bulls appear on the skyline as they start to make their way down into the small valley we were in. One by one the elk cruise by as Sherine tried to calm her excited shakes. “Are you going to shoot one?” I asked her, trying not to be frustrated hoping we were not going to loose our opportunity on these elk. I instructed her that I would cow call to stop them, and when a cow became broadside to take a shot, but only of she felt confident in it. Moments later, the morning air is blasted with sounds of rifle fire as the elk run off. “She’s down!” I exclaim as I jump up and down. A perfect double lung shot, a little high, causing the cow to fall and roll down the hill. A look of relief comes over Sherine’s face for she had worked so hard and with persistence and not giving up she was able to harvest a beautiful cow elk. They would go home with the best, and cleanest meat out there to help feed their family, and a heart full of memories and pride.
