Well, it was really peaceful up there. I've got 4 boys from 11 to 3 years old, so the serenity was most welcome!

As for bagging game? Well, I got skunked.
Elk 1, me zero.
Mulie 1, me zero
Wolf 1, me zero

There wasn't much bugling going on, so there was an awful lot of riding and glassing. We saw 3 very nice 5x5's, a couple o' spikes, and a 3x4. We had 1 bugled-in within 40 yards or so, but couldn't get a count on the rack before he winded us. The very last day, we stalked 2 bugling bulls, and I thought we'd get a look at us the way they were screaming. Then my guide decided to beat the hell out of an alder bush to try to bring them in, & they must have decided that we were too rich for their blood: they sauntered off quickly and quietly.

I'm not really disappointed, though, since there were 7 hunters in camp going for elk, and no one scored prior to my departure. Several weeks of temps in the 60's, and 5 straight nights with a full-ish moon don't generally help the hunters. Plus, my guide worked his a$$ off for me. Itippedhim the same as if I'd have gotten a giant. That way, I figure all the guides will be fighting over me next time I get into camp!

The outfit was positively first rate, and I'll definitely be going back. My last day, they even called-in another guide & had him drive around & glass for the rest of us. He's actually the one who tipped us off about the buglers that we subsequently chased.

I know the game is up there. We saw 2 cow moose, 3 grizzlies, 10 bighorn sheep (no shooters), dozens and dozens of mountain goats (withMANY shooters), a few mulies (WAY too far away), and a few whitetails. The only thing we didn't see were wolves, & that was just fine by me. It did get frustrating to see the elk sign everywhere, but not the critters themselves. But if I had the same kind of playground that they did, I wouldn't ever come out, either!

I came to understand that I've been poorly served by all those pictures that show giant bulls standing in open meadows with shin-high grass. The evergreens up there were impenetrable, and the alder patches were too few, too far between, and too thick! But I guess that's why they call it hunting, and that's why they call them trophies. I'll be awfully damned proud of my bull when I finally do get him.

Oh, I did become familiarized with that fabulous flora known as Devil's Club. Only once did I take my gloves off, & I've still got the #%$! splinters to show for it!