Scouting Trip Unveils Painful Truth Of Hunt

When it comes to elk hunting, my partner, Dick Rivers, has an uncanny propensity for being right.

“Carrying 90 pounds of elk meat on your back for three miles hurts real bad,” he reminded me two years ago in Pend Oreille County as we stuffed our backpacks with the first loads of his five-point bull.

“Your cow call sounds like a ruptured duck,” he said last year in camp the night before I spooked a bull elk that didn’t stop running until it crossed several time zones.

So why should I dispute the comment he made on Sunday:

“Scouting for a bull elk a week before the season opens is a waste of time,” he sneered as we peered over the rim of a precipitous ridge in the Blue Mountains.

The Blues are no different than much of the region this fall. Until Tuesday, the high country had been tinder dry.

Little clouds of talcum-powdery dust billowed with each step down a trail. Gnats swarmed in the faces of early-season hunters. Browned grass on open ridges crackled under their boots.

“The dry weather has kept most of the elk deep in the canyons and close to water,” said Pat Fowler, Washington Fish and Wildlife Department biologist in Walla Walla.

Rivers and I found few signs of elk at higher elevations. We plotted possible campsites with access to lower canyons and dark timber. Plans were made for the pre-dawn hikes we would make on Saturday to be in position when the season officially opens at 7:05 a.m.

Planning for the possibility of snow seemed silly on Monday, when we stood on Table Rock in our shirt sleeves, digging in the cooler for cold beverages.

By Tuesday morning, however, snow was falling in the Blues.

“It’s not clear whether or not it will stick,” Fowler said. “But it sure could make a difference where the elk are, at least on opening day.

“They might be higher on the ridges by Saturday.”

Rivers admits the three-day scouting trip was worthwhile for at least one reason:

“After looking at the brutal terrain we’re going to hunt, I’m making a major change in my gear list,” he said. “How’s that?” I asked.

“I’m packing a lot more pain medications, and not the mild over-the-counter kinds, either.”

Vote of confidence: Smart Washington elk hunters are making checklists of work and organizing that needs to be done before they head into the field this weekend.

Take time to vote absentee just in case the hunt is so exciting you don’t make it home in time for Tuesday’s general election.

AWOL moose: Ray Golly, a member of the Inland Northwest Wildlife Council, raised eyebrows in trophy hunting circles last fall when he bagged the largest bull moose recorded in Washington since 1977.

Golly’s bull, which was shot in Pend Oreille County, scored 157 points on the Boone and Crockett scale.

That ranks his bull as the third-largest on record in Washington. The second-largest bull, taken in Pend Oreille County in 1977, scored 160 points.

Washington’s largest bull had a 62-inch rack and scored 175, but it wasn’t killed by a hunter. The bull was shot by a poacher in 1992, and became the property of the state Fish and Wildlife Department.

Although the trophy made an appearance in Spokane in March at the Big Horn Show, the state-record antlers no longer reside in Washington.

Former Spokane-area wildlife agent Brooks Carmichael arranged for the Boone and Crockett Club to take custody of the antlers. You can see them at the club’s headquarters - in Missoula.

Fish stays: A replica of Washington’s 25.45-pound, state-record rainbow trout, taken last year in Lake Rufus Woods by Robert Halverson of Republic, recently was put on display at the Fish and Wildlife Department’s Spokane office on North Division.

Packing their bags: They’re dropping out like flies during a hard frost at the Washington Fish and Wildlife Department’s Spokane office.

Ray Duff, regional fisheries manager, retired this spring.

Bob Peck, the lead fisheries biologist for lakes in the Spokane area, is considering retirement.

And Friday will be the last official day for regional manager Bruce Smith, who is retiring after nearly 29 years with the agency.

Smith, who began his career as an enforcement agent, became the Spokane regional manager in 1981.

Although much has been accomplished under his watch, nothing will have longer lasting significance than his efforts to acquire prime wildlife habitat.

Smith was the tough guy who stood up to the Corps of Engineers and forced fulfillment of the dam-builder’s obligation to compensate for wildlife habitat inundated by Snake River dams.

In this and other programs, ranging from the Conservation Reserve to recent tribal acquisition of the Rainwater ranch in the foothills of the Blue Mountains, Smith has been instrumental in securing hundreds of thousands of acres for wildlife habitat and public access.

“Bruce is a dedicated hunter as well as a wildlife professional,” said Madonna Luers, department spokeswoman. “He knows the importance of public access to the average Joe.”

Actually, the last day for comments from Smith was some time ago. For the first time in memory, he failed to return this reporter’s call last week. His peers say he wants to slip away without headlines, parties or special recognition.

Wish granted.

Except to say that we’ll miss the gravely voice that gave some of the straightest answers in Washington Fish and Wildlife Department history.