A Kechika River Adventure

It rained a fair bit over the course of that night, but even so, the upper Kechika had dropped.
Significantly.
Like better than a foot.

But with extra fuel onboard we decided to make a play at getting a fair ways upstream to look at a different view of "our" mountains.
And away we went.
The skinny water was even skinnier, and I was right happy the Man behind the wheel was one of the best in the country!!

We arrived at our chosen destination with only hitting bottom a couple of times. Quite the accomplishment itself!
There we set up the spotters, and had a good look at the hills we wished to pick apart:

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In short order we discovered numerous goats, but none that came anywhere close to The Monster.
There were a handful of ewes' again, no lambs, and a few short rams. The Big Boy had vanished...

I wandered the sand bar a bit with one of the Ladz, where we saw tracks of wolf, wolverine, grizzly, elk, moose and caribou.
Quite the place this Serengeti of The North!!

Knowing our Buddy in camp might be getting twitchy, we set off downriver at a blistering rate.
At one corner, the water was too skinny to allow passage any more.
But our Jet Jock rammed it over the gravel as best he could, and tried to get it to bite back into the current.
Unfortunately that trick did not work, and we ended up slamming into the massive rock wall at better than 30 miles per. (Actually have this on video once I get to them. It's Painful!) The two up front collided hard with the windshield, and I was rag doll tossed into the back of one of their seats, splitting the inside of my bottom lip from side to side. Ouch!

Ah Man, You totaled my boat were the first words i heard.
Spitting blood, I immediately looked to ensure the stern was still above water. Yep. OK then.
Damage assessment time. The bow took a good one. Decent dent. More alarming, the blow split the upper bow deck open along the center seam, and cracked the leading bow edge right down to the Teflon plate!! Gently pushing her back into the water, we determined that she wasn't taking enough of that on to be a show-stopper, so we set off for base camp once again.

This time no stopping us, and we rolled in fine.

The Damage Pix:

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Our Buddy was damn happy to see us! He was just starting to worry about us, and had made arrangements for another rig to come look for us if we didn't show by the next day.
He astounded us by tales of bugling elk (apparently they heavy into it the eve we left) moose calling, and wolves at the doorstep in the dark every night.
Firm character that lad, he was ready to take them all on if required.
No bears showed, and the feed of moose we had that night would make a Roman blush!!

The next day we decided to break camp and start our wander out.
No-one knew how long this would take, and we've never floated / idled out of there before...
So, we loaded all up, swept the camp clean, and set out on the next chapter of this foray...

And there it ends for today folks.
I collected a few more pictures on the way out, and there is an interesting encounter or two to relay as well.
But for now, the coho in my smoker require attention, and after this much scripting, I find myself awful thirsty for a good rum...

Catch Y'all Tomorrow...
Nog
 
Thanks Buddy! Nice to know some appreciate these meager efforts!!

Extraction

By now the moose was well aged. Our Partner who stayed behind had cooled it each evening on the meat poles, and dropped it into the oversized fish coffins any time the heat came up a little. To say it was superb would be an understatement!!

We rose early the day of breaking camp. The weather looked reasonably stable, and we began to sort out what gear went to each boat. Even though badly crippled, Green Death would have to shoulder the majority of the weight. The smaller rig had developed a bug after it's hit, and would no longer attain anything beyond 3,200 rpm. Just enough to get her up and scrambling, but not so if overloaded.

Here's a final shot of the two rigs just prior to getting loaded down for the extraction:

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After sweeping the camp to ensure we left but bootprints and a few ashes behind, we set off.

Green Death was immediately tested, and at 1,500 rpm, her massive engine shook so violently in it's cradle it appeared damn near ready to leave it's motor mounts. Damn. It is going to be a loooooooong haul. She obviously would not plane at that, so idling and drifting was the only way she was going anywhere. Fortunately Mike had designed her well, and even loaded she drew less than 8 inches of water at idle. Even so, there were to be many spots she rubbed the floor, and if it were not for her owner's incredible experience level, I am certain she would have done so a lot more.

Running light in the other rig, the Ladz had no problem getting her up on step:

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They would pass us, run a bunch of miles downstream, and spend the wait checking out other mountains and exploring.

The scenery was just as beautiful on the way out as it was on the way in.
The only change was that a LOT of leaves had dropped, and those that remained were pretty much colored right up:

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Our Camp Protector is a Pitt-Weiler, the fourth of his lineage to be owned by my Buddy.
This dog is absolutely fearless, has an excellent nose, and well understands the game retrieval exercise.
What he didn't understand so well is why we were moving along so damn slow.
Used to moving at least 30 miles an hour or more across the water, it was evident he was right bored with our progress:

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Along the way that morning, we rounded a corner and discovered a massive old cow elk up one level from the river. She barely gave us a passing glance, but did study her backtrail quite intensely between bouts of feeding. Understanding what that might mean was instantaneous, and our powerful binocs literally raked the area below her constantly. There he is, and what a hell of a bull!!

And he was! I have hunted elk over much of North America, and it is something of a rarity (for me anyway) to encounter the serious crowning displayed my a mature Roosevelt Bull. This fellow had 9+ points a side, not the longest of main beams but as large as your thigh at the base, and crowning all over up top. An ancient scarred up Warrior, it was obvious he was more interested in the cow than us. Wish I had the camera ready, but will admit I was quite greedy sucking his vision through the binoc's and simply forgot... Excellent to see, and we wished him well in his efforts to pass that excellent genetics down the line!!

According to the GPS, we were traveling about 6 or 7 miles an hour when at idle, less so obviously if drifting. Mike's skill at the helm really showed as he navigated that sled through some bloody tight water over and over, missing the hits and correctly reading the flow every time. Even so, the miles drifted away too damn slow for all involved...

Years back, like 20 or so, we used to fly half our crew / gear in to save weight on the upstream runs. But, it has been damn near since then we've seen a plane actually land on the river. All the charter companies now refuse to do so, citing it is too dangerous to proceed with that any more.

So, imagine our surprise when a float plane circled us twice, dipped his wings, and set about touch down right below us!!

We both thought it was likely a CO dropping by to make sure we were on the up & up, and not in too serious of trouble drifting along like we were...

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However it became readily apparent that he was picking up some guided hunters who, along with their gear, were being shuttled to the river for pick-up via quads and trailers. Both parties waved, and although we looked we saw no sign of horns, antlers nor meat. I did take a good note of the fellow's numbers, and will try to get ahold of him the next time we wander that way to see just what his prices are. Was another interesting development for us.

The Ladz had picked an established but empty camp to set up at for the night. By the time we got down to them, it was pretty much dark. They had the Teepee set up, and a good fire blazing for our arrival. The only thing we borrowed besides their fire pit was the grill they had conveniently left along side of that. The grilled moose backstrap tasted as wonderful as it had the first time!
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A few calculations, and we recognized it would take at least another day and a half to get down to the landing.

Oh well, at least we're getting there...

Sleep came easy as the wolves once again serenaded the coming of the moonlight...
 
The next morning we were up and wandering right at first light again.
The wolves carried on that day well into daylight, had us wondering just what they were up to...

Something I forgot to mention when we were up on the hill. My two companions decided it probably wasn't going to rain, so they hoisted their rain gear high up into a tree. The one fellow's gear was like mine - workable, but not overly pricey. The other fellow is the complete opposite! Between the Kuiu drybag, pack cover and rain gear, it was worth close to $ 1,800.00 clams. Upon our descent, they were quite disturbed to discover a bear had found an eaten all of that stuff except one woolen cap. My HH gear stayed with me, and I was happy to be wearing it on the last leg out of the hills! Another OUCH for the one fellow for sure as he had yet to even wear the stuff...

What reminded me was a blackie we encountered as we idled down the river day 2. He wasn't overly large, but the Ladz certainly were trying to get me to shoot him. More out of revenge than anything else methinks, and I wasn't going to shoot just "any" bear this trip! In fact that tag has a date with a rather large bruin, perhaps it may even top last year's Monster, that is frequenting one of my local hunting areas right now...

The bear is in there:

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Passing the confluence with the Turnagin meant we were actually making progress. Not enough that we wouldn't have to camp again that night, but certainly enough we would be off the river the next day...

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Here's the mandatory shot of the big rock with the cross on it.
Never did find out who wandered on there, nor under what conditions.
But I always give a tip of my hat to another wanderer who apparently paid the ultimate price there.

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Another interesting formation along the way - almost looked like a castle turret falling apart:

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Camp that night was actually quite a bit of a party. We all knew we'd be off the river the next day, and thus our time together was drawing to it's conclusion. Out came the final dregs of rum, and we attacked the moose tenderloin for the first time - actually eating all of it between us! A finer feast was never had!!

The next morning we were again off and moving early. The Ladz in the other rig ran down to the launch, and readied ropes etc in case we had an issue on our final approach. Although we bumped once or twice before re-entering the Liard, it was nothing serious. And we jockeyed across the larger river with no issues, floating nicely right up into the bay at Skooks Landing.

Most of the rigs were long gone, giving us ample room to pull ours from the water. The water itself however was so low we had to tow the trucks attached to the trailers back up the hill to get them off the beach:

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A quick scramble to load our rigs, and we were soon on our way back to "civilization"...

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The ride home was boring chiefly. A few distractions such as Sheep, Buffalo and Caribou:



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We again over-nighted in Chetwyn, and blew out of there well before the dawn.

Miles seemed to fly by, and our moods swung between reflection / satisfaction of doing what we do, and the near dread of getting back to "society" and all of it's trammelings.

Vancouver was it's usual Horror Show, and although well ahead of schedule, we managed to miss the target ferry by about an hour. Never ceases to amaze me how CitIdiots can come to a complete full stop - on a highway - on a repeated basis!
Were I to have to live there, I honestly believe the other side would look a LOT more promising than suffering through that BS on a daily basis!!

Arriving home, all was thankfully well.
Still don't have all the gear put away, but the moose is
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This ESCAPE was one I desperately needed.
Back to my version of "Reality"
Back with tried, tested and true Friends who always have each other's backs.
And back to the Rivers and Hills I love so much.

I felt the trappings of daily life and concerns slide off me as soon as we hit the river.
I still feel a fair amount of that coursing through my veins a tad later. Refreshment much desired and fulfilled.

The news and the developments since we have been gone have little interest for me at this point.
And already, I am actually yearning to go back...

There were more than a few trials and tribulations on this run.
Never had any boat issues before, and guess we have now made up for all of the past in that regard.
Happy the big moose was recovered.
Wish like hell I had had a Grizzly Tag in tow!
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But most of all, I am Damn Happy for having been there!
Soul Cleansing Indeed!
And in my heart, I KNOW I will return...

Hope Y'all enjoyed this tale.
There will be the odd hunt or two still to come along this fall, but none as "serious" as this one was.
I'll still tell the tales, and hope that some are a little amused by my wanderings.

Eventually I'll add in a video or three to this one, so watch down the line if you're at all interested...

The Very Best of Luck to all who choose our pursuit this fall!
May you shoot straight, and the game be plentiful!!

Happy Thanksgiving!
I truly understand we still have a lot to be thankful for!!

Cheers!
Matt
 
Thanks for sharing your adventure, really great read. Looking forward to future installments, good luck out there!
 
Great read and thanks for sharing.

I did find it ironic that your complaining about a Grizzley bear trying to eat a goat for survival while your out there to shoot one for fun. If you really want to remove predators from the goats range take a look in the mirror and stay home next fall.
 
I did find it ironic that your complaining about a Grizzley bear trying to eat a goat for survival while your out there to shoot one for fun. If you really want to remove predators from the goats range take a look in the mirror and stay home next fall.

I was there to try and bring home a little more sustenance for the family.
The Grizz was in fact decimating the survival of both mountain sheep and mountain goats in that area.
Hell of a large difference.

Perhaps you should look in the mirror as you suggest, and determine just why it is you fish? Assuming you actually do that is... :rolleyes:

One in every crowd it seems... :eek:

Nog
 
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