I hadn't been out bear or wolf hunting yet this spring, so I grabbed some camping gear and my trusty old 270 and hopped in the plane. I took off from the home strip and headed west to the Middle Fork of the Salmon River. The first place I landed there was a plane in front of me that dropped off some hunters and a camp already in place next to the runway. I got back in the plane and headed downstream a few miles to a different place.
I hiked all day up one drainage, probably about 6 miles. Took a short nap in the sun and then did some more glassing for bears, no bears but tons of deer and elk. After hiking back to the plane, I made some dinner and got in the tent about dark. I was tired, I hadn't done much hiking lately and surely not with my hunting pack and 12 pound rifle. Morning was still and cold, about mid 20's, I head down the river this time where the elk often congregate, there were literally a couple hundred around. I found FRESH wolf scat on the trail only a few hundred yards from the plane, a good sign I thought. As I got near the area I intended to call, there were only a few elk out feeding. I wondered if something had chased the elk away during the night. I set up calling on the edge of a 200 by 400 yard open area. I'd let out a few challenge howls and was then scanning with my binoculars, figuring wolves would be very sneaky and I'd be lucky to see a face looking at me from heavy cover or just over a ridge. As I slowly let the binoculars down to resume calling, there was a wolf. About 80 yards in front of me, broadside looking at me. I keep my rifle on the bipod in the general direction I expect to shoot, I slowly raised the rifle as I put the crosshairs behind the shoulder I remembered to aim a little low as the rifle is sighted 3" high at 100.
The echo of the rifle shot seemed to last for 10 seconds reverberating off the canyon walls, but there she lay, dead in her tracks. I had just shot my first wolf! Judging only be memory of people's big domestic dogs, I guessed her at 85 to 95 pounds. A little rubbed on the hind quarters and clearly not a prime hide, but dead. After I skinned her, I cut her open to see if she had any pups, but there were none. My guess is that she was a yearling and hadn't bred yet.
The Bald Eagles gorged themselves on the carcass all day, I hoped a bear might find it but that was not to be. I was set up that evening across the river but an hour before dark a pack train of horses came through so I packed up and turned in early again. The next morning was not as cold, the calling and glassing did not produce so I packed up camp and flew home.
Now I have to submit my receipts to get my $2000 reimbursement for killing the wolf. Since the hide isn't so great, I am going to sell it. The place that buys them said in the condition described that it would be worth $100 to $300.
I hiked all day up one drainage, probably about 6 miles. Took a short nap in the sun and then did some more glassing for bears, no bears but tons of deer and elk. After hiking back to the plane, I made some dinner and got in the tent about dark. I was tired, I hadn't done much hiking lately and surely not with my hunting pack and 12 pound rifle. Morning was still and cold, about mid 20's, I head down the river this time where the elk often congregate, there were literally a couple hundred around. I found FRESH wolf scat on the trail only a few hundred yards from the plane, a good sign I thought. As I got near the area I intended to call, there were only a few elk out feeding. I wondered if something had chased the elk away during the night. I set up calling on the edge of a 200 by 400 yard open area. I'd let out a few challenge howls and was then scanning with my binoculars, figuring wolves would be very sneaky and I'd be lucky to see a face looking at me from heavy cover or just over a ridge. As I slowly let the binoculars down to resume calling, there was a wolf. About 80 yards in front of me, broadside looking at me. I keep my rifle on the bipod in the general direction I expect to shoot, I slowly raised the rifle as I put the crosshairs behind the shoulder I remembered to aim a little low as the rifle is sighted 3" high at 100.
The echo of the rifle shot seemed to last for 10 seconds reverberating off the canyon walls, but there she lay, dead in her tracks. I had just shot my first wolf! Judging only be memory of people's big domestic dogs, I guessed her at 85 to 95 pounds. A little rubbed on the hind quarters and clearly not a prime hide, but dead. After I skinned her, I cut her open to see if she had any pups, but there were none. My guess is that she was a yearling and hadn't bred yet.
The Bald Eagles gorged themselves on the carcass all day, I hoped a bear might find it but that was not to be. I was set up that evening across the river but an hour before dark a pack train of horses came through so I packed up and turned in early again. The next morning was not as cold, the calling and glassing did not produce so I packed up camp and flew home.
Now I have to submit my receipts to get my $2000 reimbursement for killing the wolf. Since the hide isn't so great, I am going to sell it. The place that buys them said in the condition described that it would be worth $100 to $300.
