Every morning I get up before the sun begins to rise, get the coffee going and let our tribe of hound pups out of their kennels to run about the yard. It seems that lately I find myself more often than usual in deep thought, remembering back over the last 30 years I spent living the life of a Big Game Guide and Horseman in the Canadian Wilderness.
When I started out as the camp wrangler and "go get it boy" I was at the young age of 14, those were the days when an elk bugle resembled a child's recorder or plastic flute, the days when a .300 H&H was a BIG rifle, the days when we wore wool clothing made made the Hudson Bay Company and carried a wooden framed "Trapper Nelson" pack board with no waist belt.
Our lives as mountain men were full of hardship and adventure, heck just getting to camp was usually an adventure filled with flat deck stock trucks loaded with horses, an old Fargo pickup that didn't go any faster than the loaded stock truck and a road that seemed to love eating truck tires, and on occasion opening up to swallow the whole truck.
The mountains weren't criss-crossed with logging roads, there was no such thing as an ATV, not unless it had four legs that is, and the game wasn't hassled and disturbed. It was after all, still Wilderness.
I can still recal the smoky taste of fresh moose ribs that were cooked by leaning one complete side of the rib cage near the fire while we worked at de-boning the meat and caping out the head. The laughter and heart felt companionship felt between us and our client/hunters. The horses, the horns and the high country. A life i just can't regret living.
I've heard my own bones break, been kicked, bit, rolled on and seen about every wreck possible out there in the back country. I've been charged by grizzly bears 11 times in my life, 6 times black bears have tried their luck and I've even had a couple of real scuffles with cougars while trying to save the lives of my hounds.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not at all the bragging type, I don't see much sense in that, it's just the way the cards fell. We were after all, men living life in the rugged wilderness and things sometimes got real Western.
Over my 30 years I've lost 3 good friends to the hardships out there and seen the death of 17 good solid mountain horses, a tragedy each and every one but there again, that was the life we lived, a hard one.
My wife laughs at the way I sit and type on this key board, one finger from each hand plinking away, the truth be told I use the only two straight fingures I've got left and I'm real proud of my 16 words a minute.
It's almost sad to see the way things have come about for the world of the hunter, it just seems to a man like me that the real connection with the wilderness and it's creatures has been lost. Trail Cams, 4x4 bikes,( hell you aint somebody unless you drive a 6x6 now), high powered rifles that can shoot 1000 yards, laser range finders, cover scents, 50 different types of camo clothing, the list goes on forever.
Does anybody drift off by themselves into the back country, climb a ridge or mountain side and just sit , watch and listen any more?
What about the creatures that we hunt, could you actually pattern a whitetail buck without your trail camera? How about bugle in a mature bull elk without scents, camo clothing, face paint and 6 different calls hanging from your neck?
We've commercialized our entire way of life. Sad.
I still wear the same old wool clothing, dont even own a pair of camo. Although I use a "Power Bugle" and a "Premo's" cow call I've never used scents nor do I think I will. To me its the challenge of "him vs me" on as even a playing field as possible. I can't imagine enjoying a game of chess when I've got 5 Queens and the other fella doesn't.
A lot of you will raise your eye brows, most of you will laugh at my opinion and most certainly all of you will think of me as some sort of relic after reading this and that's all ok. Just remember this though, when you go steaming up the road driving that beautiful 6x6, wearing $500 worth of camo clothing with your rifle stored safely in that hard case, I'll be out there sitting a way up on that ridge listening to you go by, enjoying my life as a man from the wilderness
Written by;
Ron Arnett
"A man from the wilderness."
