Devising a plan. The hunting party
discussed the best stalking route
and where to take the shot. The
haze is smoke from the Eagle
Creek Fire 200 miles away.
rocks above and moved out
of sight. This gave us concern
as we thought the other billy
might do the same before we
got into shooting position. We
picked up our pace a little, but
the steep, loose rocky terrain
made it difficult. The farther
we hiked along the slope of
Sentinel Peak the steeper and
steeper it became.
We finally made it to the
spot we had decided to shoot
from. It was 381 yards from
the goat, but was an extreme-
ly steep spot. Unfortunately,
there were no better shooting
locations we could find. Lonnie
got set as best he could for the
381-yard shot. Half prone and
half sitting, legs over Joe and
his rifle rested over a backpack.
The goat was still sleeping at a
quartering away angle. We took
extra time to set up and Lon-
nie calmed himself as he had
practiced many longer shots
beyond this range and this
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WESTERN HUNTING JOURNAL
was well within his abilities. Joe
helped him dial the scope to the
distance of the goat and Lonnie
settled in for the shot. His fa-
ther Dan was snapping photos
and trying to film with all the
excitement.
Lonnie let us know he was
ready so we all concentrated on
the goat to see if we could see
the bullet impact. He held steady
and squeezed the trigger. We all
heard the report of the Ruger
6.5 Creedmoor and saw dust
rise up from behind the goat. It
immediately staggered up but,
was hit hard. Lonnie had made
a perfect angle shot through the
vitals and the goat was going no-
where. It took about three stag-
gering steps, fell and started to
tumble down the mountain for
a couple hundred yards before
coming to rest on the slope of
Sentinel Peak. Emotions were
high as this was a hunt that the
father and son worked very hard
for and had come to the desired
conclusion. Lonnie had just
completed a “once in a lifetime”
hunt and had connected on a
trophy mountain goat. After
high fives and a few tears, we
started for the mountain goat’s
resting spot.
The hike to the animal
was worse than the hike to
the shooting location. There
were many steep treacherous
ravines to be crossed. One in
particular, the bank gave way
and I tumbled to the bottom
of it in a cloud of dust and
rocks. The slope continued to
be very steep as it always is in
mountain goat country, but
we all made it to the trophy
alive and unscathed. As we ad-
mired Lonnie’s goat, we took
in our surroundings and the
magnitude of what transpired.
It was a large-bodied goat that
he would be proud of. We took
a few photos, and started field
dressing the billy. Joe caped it,
and quartered the animal. He
would hand off quarters and
we’d bag them and get them
strapped on packs.
With packs loaded we head-
ed down hill toward a snow
field and a possible easier
ridge to hike back to the top
of the pass. At the snow field,
we decided to bury the meat
and leave it to cool. We had
little time to get back up to the
pass and back to camp before
dark. We figured with the heavy
packs, and facing darkness, it
was safer. Climbing out with
no trail on a knife edge ridge
would have been more diffi-
cult than it already was. We
made it to Polaris Pass as the
sun was setting and hiked back
to camp in the dark. With cell
reception, Wes made arrange-
ments for two wranglers to
help break camp on Monday.
Dan called home with the big
news of Lonnie’s mountain
goat while Lonnie and I head-
ed down the trail toward camp.