A Rookie Chases His First Kodiak Mountain Goat

The following appears in the October issue of Alaska Sporting Journal:

First of two parts

You’ll never tire of the scenery on Kodiak Island, but chasing goats here is anything but a pleasure trip. And bowhunting veterans Brian Watkins and Trevor Embry took along a rookie to this experience, Zach Welch. (BRIAN WATKINS)

BY BRIAN WATKINS

Having hunted goats for over a decade now, I can say I still haven’t had enough! Goat

hunters are a rare breed. They like the pain, discomfort, danger and adrenaline. Goat hunting takes place in the nastiest part of the mountains, high in the shale rock amidst cathedral-like spires of stone. One slip and death is certain. Your footing is crucial, and focus must be at an all-time high. The conditions encompass rain, snow and wind. To thoroughly enjoy that, something must be off in your brain. The following is the story of my 14th goat hunt.

Reaching a spot where a goat can be taken is justas difficult as the shot from a bow can be. “Heart pounding, pouring sweat and exhausted, we found ourselves above where the goats’ last known location was,” Watkins writes. (BRIAN WATKINS)

I SET OUT IN these conditions yet again with my close friend Trevor Embry and a new friend, Zach Welch. It’d be the fourth year in a row of hunting goats with our bows for Trevor and I, but it was Zach’s first time. Our goal was to fly into the same place Trevor and I hunted in 2021. We had success there, taking two Pope and Young billies, and we longed to return.

Prior to leaving for our trip, the weather looked dismal for our fly-in day. We were booked with Island Air to fly into the south end of the island. And I should tell you that it’s important to be flexible when hunting Kodiak. It’s the first land mass that storms hit coming in off the North Pacific. Wind and rain are synonymous with Kodiak.

Given the forecast, the three of us changed our work schedules and figured that if we left a day early, we could get into our spot. The plan worked. A day early proved to be a beautiful sunny one. Since we have tenure with the pilot, he agreed to take us back to a certain lake, but warned, “If the weather isn’t perfect, you’ll have to hike down to saltwater for pickup.” The outfit no longer flies into this lake for that reason; however, he knows we are willing to hike out if need be. We have a history of riding storms out in a tent, which can be demoralizing and wear on your psyche.

OUR EXPECTATIONS WERE HIGH, given our successful goat and deer hunt in 2021 (Alaska Sporting Journal, January 2022), but we knew that had been an anomaly.

Welch was experiencing his first Kodiak goat hunt, but he took a moment to take in the island’s rugged mountains. (BRIAN WATKINS)

As we flew into Kodiak, we saw three herds of goats, which elevated our excitement. Since we could hunt deer the same day as flying, we spent the afternoon trying to find them. We hunted different directions and hoped to turn deer up. After shedding their velvet, bucks head further down in elevation as they wait on the rut to start. They become nearly nocturnal and stay in thick brush throughout the day. Just at last light, I spotted a decent buck and about 20 does. I didn’t have enough daylight to close the distance, but made a mental note of where to hunt when the time came.

THE FOLLOWING DAY, WE set out in pursuit of said goats, planning to hunt the closest group first. We hiked over the ridge and laid eyes on the animals. A herd of 17 goats sat atop a spine within rifle range, but we were only equipped with bows.

We crested the ridge first thing in the

morning and had to stay downwind and out of sight for the entire day. It was 36 degrees, raining and windy, per Kodiak standards. The joy of bowhunting is patience and, in this instance, freezing. The day wore on and just before dark we called it. Back in camp we pondered whether we’d made the right call keeping our distance, but we had eight days of hunting to figure it out.

We experienced déjà vu the next morning. The goats were feeding in the same direction and bound to bed in the same area. We found our roost and set up just as we had the previous morning. For three hours we contemplated what to do and how to close the distance. The difference that morning was the wind was a bit more in our favor and two goats kept a distance from the main pod.

I had the idea to skirt the mountain and make a move on the two lone goats. I wanted Zach to get his first goat, so I laid the plan out and told him to set out after

them. Having no mountain experience, he wasn’t comfortable going solo, so I took him with me. His words were quite humorous: “I don’t care if you guys go,” he said. “But I ain’t goin’ alone.”

We moved fast, covering ground nearly at a run. Heart pounding, pouring sweat and exhausted, we found ourselves above the goats’ last known location. As we moved closer, a goat popped out. I whistled to Zach to lay low as he was cruising into position to avoid detection. Once the goat turned to look the other way, I whistled again to move.

When Zach was within 60 yards of the goat, another one popped out of nowhere. This one was within 20 yards of Zach, so he didn’t even need to range it. He sent an arrow through the perfect spot. The goat was dead on his feet and tumbled down the mountain.

Unfortunately, he was on the wrong side of our camp, so we had to pack him back up the 800 feet that he tumbled

down. It was 11:30 at night before we arrived back to camp with a goat in tow.

Glassing for goats on Kodiak. (BRIAN WATKINS)

WITH THE DAY’S PLAN plan working out perfectly, the original group of goats we’d had our eyes on were still undisturbed. We set out in the morning to see if we could get to bow range. The goats stayed the course and were out of a stalkable area. I had spotted another goat a couple of mountains away and in typical fashion wanted to give chase immediately.

Trevor, being a more thoughtful and methodical hunter, talked me out of giving chase so as to focus on the group closer to camp. As we kept in rifle distance, I grew ever more impatient. It didn’t seem like we would be able to get ashotatthisherd.Tobecontinued…ASJ

Editor’s note: Next month, author Brian Watkins and longtime hunting partner Trevor Embry hope to join first-time goat harvester Zach Welch with goats of their own.