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November 2024
Story by Tyler Beasley
State: Washington
Species: Mtn Goat

Drawing a special tag is definitely part of the excitement of hunting. I soaked it up all summer, knowing that I had a Washington mountain goat tag in my pocket, although it couldn’t have come during a busier part of my life. In the middle of new home construction and a career change, I kept my nose to the grindstone to make time available during the first part of the season. My window of available time was small. I knew before ever drawing the tag that this would be a self-guided hunt and that it would be one of the few once-in-lifetime that I could look back on.
 
All summer, I spoke with previous tag holders, local residents, and photographers to determine where in the unit the best places would be to locate billies. With no time to scout with boots on the ground, I decided to be on the mountain opening day (September 1st) with my friend, Clint. We had to ride our bikes 10 miles in on the Forest Service road because it was washed out from the river flooding in previous years. After our ride in, we still had to gain a bunch of elevation and miles to get above tree line and into goat country.
 
Of course, being in the north Cascades, we experienced some rain. Walking through an alder brush was basically like hiking through a car wash. We were soaking wet! Within the first hour of the hike, I already was wondering what I had gotten myself into. Once we got above the tree line and along the first ridge, the sun broke out and we were able to dry our clothes and gear while we took in the breathtaking views.
 
Little did we know, finding the mountain goats would be the easy part. Getting to them was the real challenge. There were giant cliff bands that the large groups of nannies and kids would bed below. It was a real treat to be watching goats in country that I had only seen in films. It was hard not to have my phone out, snapping pictures. I did notice, however, that the picture never did the country justice. It is so much bigger in person. What seemed like a short distance in the maps and in photos was a half-day venture straight up through loose shale, slick grass, and views that make catching your breath priceless.
 
We only saw one lone billy that was higher and further away from the rest of the group, making a total of 21 goats. On the second day, we decided to make a stalk on the billy who later ended following the larger “nursery” group over the top of the mountain. We traversed through plates of shale and along ancient glaciers to get over to the other side to realized that the country continued to grow. We got our eyes on goats, but they were too far into the next basin to allow any opportunity with the little energy we had left. Once we got back to camp, we dried out our feet, ate dehydrated meals, and rested up for the next day.
 
We were expecting it to be overcast with a low chance of rain the next day, but we didn’t expect to be sitting in the tipi all day, socked in with fog and rain. Checking in with family on the Garmin inReach helped pass the time, but we were not sure if we could sit in the tent for the next three days. We decided to pull out and make the six-hour drive back home. Clint was supportive of staying through the weather, but I decided that I would return later in the week when the weather was more cooperative.
 
After two days at home to rest and share photos, I headed back to the west side of the Cascades solo to get it done. Another daunting elevation gain, but this time alone with my thoughts, I made it a goal to get camp set up and to my glassing knob by the last few hours of light. Once I started to reach the tree line, the fog rolled in once again and I couldn’t even see the tops of the trees. I would once again wait out the remaining hours in the tipi. The night cleared up, and the temperature dropped. I was wearing every layer I had packed and started to ask myself, “What am I doing up here?”
 
The morning sky did not carry a single cloud. A few steps from the tipi was a glassing spot with views across a cliffy basin. Goats popped out instantly, bedded randomly through the cliffs. I counted 22. There was an extra goat from earlier on in the week. There was one that stood out as a loner and appeared to be much larger than the rest. My plan was to drop down off the ridge I was camped on and glass other country along the way as I made my way up towards the groups to get a closer look at the lone goat.
 
I didn’t see any other goats in the surrounding areas, so I kept chugging away up the drainage towards the area where I marked the lone goat. Feeling the burn in my legs and lungs, I told myself, “I can’t lose. Even if tagging a goat doesn’t happen, look at the country I’m in!” As I soaked in the view and thought about my family, health, and blessings, I became motivated to keep pushing up the mountain. Peeking over the ridge proved that I was in goat terrain. The drop-off cliff gave me vertigo, but there were the goats! I went back out of view and kept going higher. Soon, I was at the top and started seeing goats up close for the first time.
 
I dropped my pack and put a round in the chamber. Belly crawling along the cliff edge, I found myself in a goat bed that was still warm surrounded by frosty blades of grass. A nanny came within 15 yards of me and stared me down. I thought that she would run and spook the rest of the group, but she trotted off and joined the group to continue feeding. I was in it. It was all about watching mountain goats. I spent a lot of time during the summer reading, studying, and watching videos to determine the gender of mountain goats. I was not after putting my tag on a record book mountain goat, but rather a good billy. I did not want to shoot a nanny. Watching goat after goat walking by, feeding, and moving up and out of the cliffs, all of a sudden there was one that had bigger shoulders, horns that had good mass at the bases, and swept back rather than the tall, thin horns of the nannies. I was hesitant. Could this just be an old nanny? I waited. The goat turned just enough that I could see his genitals with his early season coat. He was under 100 yards and walking away from the cliffs. I didn’t want to shoot him and lose him over the cliffs. I put the crosshairs right on him. In an instant, he was feet up and did not move.
 
I couldn’t believe it. It all seemed to happen so fast. I immediately thanked God for the opportunity. I was still nervous walking up on him that it would turn out to be a nanny, but that wasn’t the case. I sat and soaked it all in. Experiencing this once-in-a-lifetime hunt by myself, I was thankful that I could use a Garmin inReach to share the success with my family and friends. I took my time taking pictures and quartering him out. I caped him for a shoulder mount but kept the rearend hide to give to my kids. I knew this was going to be one of the hardest hunts of my life, but I didn’t know that it was going to be as hard as it was. It took me an entire week for my legs, back, and hips to feel normal again, but it only took me two days to start looking into other mountain goat hunting opportunities.