It Was a Very Good Year by Ed Cartier

2015 started off with a lot to look forward to. My 2014 elephant hunt that was cancelled due to new US regulations was transformed into a leopard hunt for July of 2015. My October Saskatchewan moose was still on schedule and was already paid for. Things got even more interesting on the last day of January, when I got a call from a friend asking if I could sub-in for his son on a 2x1 Wyoming horseback elk hunt that he booked. The only catch was that it was the last day to apply for a permit, and I’d have to pay a premium for a general tag. What could I say? I called the outfitter, gave him my credit card number and learned a few weeks later that I was booked. 2015 was going to be a busy year.

July came before I knew it, and my wife and I were off to Zimbabwe. We were hunting with my long-time PH Johnnie Johnson and were going to be working out of a camp just outside of Victoria Falls. The safari started out agonizingly slow. Bait animals were scarce, and it took days to collect enough meat for several leopard baits. The cats were slow coming into the baits, and we spent endless hours looking at untouched baits.  Then one day it all changed. We found fresh track near the hindquarter of a female kudu we recently hung up. The bait was clearly hit early in the late afternoon. The hunt was on! We checked the bait the next morning and built a blind not 60 yards away with the intent of returning that evening. We got to the blind about 4:00 PM and settled in. Just before dark we heard the unmistakable sound of bones being crunched. The leopard sat in the juncture of two branches, providing no shot.  Suddenly he got up and headed down the branch. The Hornady 220 grain soft-nose bullet from my .30-06 Model 70 took him in the shoulder and he dropped like a sack of rocks. The rest of the safari was far less exciting, but yielded a nice warthog, impala and a blue wildebeast.

We got home just 6 weeks before my next adventure. The moose hunt was to be combined with some fine northern pike and lake trout fishing out of Lawrence Bay Lodge on Reindeer Lake in northern Saskatchewan. Traveling to Reindeer Lake is a complicated journey. Newark to Minneapolis to Saskatoon, overnight in Saskatoon, then Saskatoon to La Ronge Airport, followed by a 4-hour overland ride to the float plane. The beer tasted good that night.

Our first camp was a short plane ride (but a long boat ride as I was to discover later) from the main camp. George, my guide, had set up a spike camp on the shores of a large peninsula and tied up the boat in a small inlet. The area looked so good I could imagine a moose wading right into the weedy shallows near the tent. However, after two days of calling, we saw no moose and moved on to another location. The long boat ride was made even longer by the downpours that filled the open boat. We eventually found cover in a small cabin that George had access to. The next morning was clear and crisp, and George told me he had a particular spot in mind. We loaded the boat and set off, moving south. George beached the boat on the sandy bank, just below a steep, rocky hill. He said we could glass a large area from the top of the hill and could stalk a moose if we found one. On the way up he advised me to chamber a round and keep the safety on, “just in case.” As it happened it was good advice. We were only about 400 yards from the boat when he grabbed my shoulder and pointed at a bull moose not 100 yards away. I steadied my .325 WSM Model 70 against a small tree and put a bullet through the moose’s shoulder. It dropped, but as we were congratulating each other it attempted to stand. One more shot anchored the bull. It took another 4 hours to quarter the animal, remove the antlers and cape and get the pieces to the boat. Another two hours got us back to the lodge. The rest of the trip consisted of taking over 150 good-sized pike and lake trout (I honestly lost count), great shore lunches and outstanding camp cuisine.

Four weeks later I was back at the airport, my rifle and equipment in hand, heading off to Cody, Wyoming. I was traveling with my friend Ralph, who called me ten months earlier and asked if I could make the trip. We arrived in Cody that evening and overnighted at the Irma Hotel, which was founded by Buffalo Bill Cody. Our outfitter picked us up in the morning, and we headed off to the trailhead where we would load the horses for the trip into camp. (No vehicles or powered devices were permitted in the Shoshone Wilderness). Four hours and one sore butt later we got to camp, which consisted of a large cook tent and mess hall and a series of two-person canvas tents.

The next morning, I learned that we would be hunting from another camp “up the mountain a bit.” We rode 3 hours through some very steep terrain to a smaller camp situated at 10,000 feet altitude. Considering that I live 15 minutes from the ocean, air seemed to be scarce up there. After 3 hard days of riding and glassing, with not much to show for it, I offered to return to the main camp with one of our guides, John, who was planning to go back into town that weekend. When we arrived, we learned that one of the hunters had taken a nice bull elk in a valley not far from camp. We offered to help quarter it. Instead of going back to camp when the work was done, John suggested to ride up to the lookout spot on the opposing mountain and glass the valley and the other slope. Good idea! With about an hour of shooting light left, two trophy bulls began to make their way down the slope. John ranged them at 630 yards, and suggested I use his rifle as it had a range compensating turret, which would allow me to hold dead-on the target. John. Adjusted the scope and I rested the .338 Winchester Ruger Model 77 on a pack, held steady on the bull’s shoulder and fired. Nothing happened. John said I missed, and I said I didn’t. I fired two more shots, confident of each one, even though the bull kept standing. Then it took two steps and collapsed. When we finally reached it, we found three bullet holes in the shoulder about 2 inches apart. That bull scored 370 SCI points, and the antlers now fill a large section of a very high wall in my foyer.

I doubt I will have another year like 2015, but there is always hope for a repeat in the not-so-distant future.

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