Wayne in BC
New member
Brother Ken was living in Edmonton Alberta, about a hundred miles from me in 1982. He called me one day in day in Early September and asked if i was very busy with my guiding business, and could we get together for a hunt?
I said, hey i have another week before my first hunters come in, get yer butt down here quick!
We had not hunted together in years as Kenny had been working all over western Canada as a heavy duty mechanic. Hunting with my bro was such a pleasure, the big goof made any trip into an adventure with his ready humor and though most would not realise it because of his personality, he was a smart and accomplished outdoorsman!
He readily agreed to be at my place the next day as i mentioned that a mutual friend of ours "Cliff" wanted to go also. He said sure, as long as we can keep him sober
.......
Cliff guided for me, was also a good hunter and fine company, though prone to like the "firewater" a bit too much he would behave himself when with us, and never drank to excess when working.
The next afternoon we were finally organised, My 4x4 powerwagon with "stockracks" and two horses. Kens 3/4 ton truck pulling the horsetrailer and three horses, (we needed a saddlehorse each and two packhorses as we were going deep into the mountains for 4 days) and Cliff with his pet project, a gorgeous restored 1949 ford pickup with our gear, food, tack, and grain for the horses in the back. The grain, an oat/barley/molasses mixture, was needed as the local grass, though plentiful, was low protein and the horses needed a daily boost.
We would be traveling some 110 miles from my place, the last 20 miles on borderline 4x4 type, high mountain roads to the starting point at roads end where we would saddle up and travel another 15 miles to a small "spike camp" i kept for Elk hunting as that was our game.
The light was gone long before we reached our jumping off point that evening and we travelled the twisty and slightly icy (which was unexpected though not unusual in september) mountain road carefully, keeping up a chatter on our CB radios. Kenny was in the lead with me behind him in the Powerwagon because his truck was only 2wheel drive, pulling the trailer up the hills was tricky and i had to occasionally ease up behind him on a hill and push with my big bumper on the back of the trailer to keep him from spinning out. (forgot the chains and ya, we were kinda goofy in those days
). Cliff brought up the rear and we were only a couple miles from the end of the road/trail when i knew we might have a problem, though i had no idea of how big it was going to be!
The back and forth chatter on the radios had both Kenny and i worried because for the past 20 minutes or so Cliff had seemed a bit slow to respond to us and seemed to be slurring his words. Both of us were thinking the same dire thing, that Cliff was drinking, the damn fool! Now he did not respond at all and we stopped, getting truly worried .........
We continued to call him on the radio for a few minutes with no response and i began turning my truck around on the narrow trail. Black dark now, and we were frantic with worry and fear when i heard a faint voice on the radio! Thankfully i answered, saying, where the heck are you? Silence for a long moment, then Cliff answered, his voice shakey and faint.......i don't know........i think i'm in the river. OMYGODWHERE??!! .....i don't know......ARE YOU HURT!?......don't think so but the roof is kinda low.....mumble mumble.....
Hurriedly Ken and i tried to figure out where he might be, he obviously had gone off the road and there had been a long downhill back a mile or so that bottomed out as it turned left sharply and crossed an old wood bridge over a rushing little creek strewn with boulders in the narrow valley. We had navigated it slowly and carefully with no probs and i had warned Cliff that it was coming so be careful! He had acknowledged and i thought little of it....until now!
continued.........
I said, hey i have another week before my first hunters come in, get yer butt down here quick!
We had not hunted together in years as Kenny had been working all over western Canada as a heavy duty mechanic. Hunting with my bro was such a pleasure, the big goof made any trip into an adventure with his ready humor and though most would not realise it because of his personality, he was a smart and accomplished outdoorsman!
He readily agreed to be at my place the next day as i mentioned that a mutual friend of ours "Cliff" wanted to go also. He said sure, as long as we can keep him sober

Cliff guided for me, was also a good hunter and fine company, though prone to like the "firewater" a bit too much he would behave himself when with us, and never drank to excess when working.
The next afternoon we were finally organised, My 4x4 powerwagon with "stockracks" and two horses. Kens 3/4 ton truck pulling the horsetrailer and three horses, (we needed a saddlehorse each and two packhorses as we were going deep into the mountains for 4 days) and Cliff with his pet project, a gorgeous restored 1949 ford pickup with our gear, food, tack, and grain for the horses in the back. The grain, an oat/barley/molasses mixture, was needed as the local grass, though plentiful, was low protein and the horses needed a daily boost.
We would be traveling some 110 miles from my place, the last 20 miles on borderline 4x4 type, high mountain roads to the starting point at roads end where we would saddle up and travel another 15 miles to a small "spike camp" i kept for Elk hunting as that was our game.
The light was gone long before we reached our jumping off point that evening and we travelled the twisty and slightly icy (which was unexpected though not unusual in september) mountain road carefully, keeping up a chatter on our CB radios. Kenny was in the lead with me behind him in the Powerwagon because his truck was only 2wheel drive, pulling the trailer up the hills was tricky and i had to occasionally ease up behind him on a hill and push with my big bumper on the back of the trailer to keep him from spinning out. (forgot the chains and ya, we were kinda goofy in those days

The back and forth chatter on the radios had both Kenny and i worried because for the past 20 minutes or so Cliff had seemed a bit slow to respond to us and seemed to be slurring his words. Both of us were thinking the same dire thing, that Cliff was drinking, the damn fool! Now he did not respond at all and we stopped, getting truly worried .........
We continued to call him on the radio for a few minutes with no response and i began turning my truck around on the narrow trail. Black dark now, and we were frantic with worry and fear when i heard a faint voice on the radio! Thankfully i answered, saying, where the heck are you? Silence for a long moment, then Cliff answered, his voice shakey and faint.......i don't know........i think i'm in the river. OMYGODWHERE??!! .....i don't know......ARE YOU HURT!?......don't think so but the roof is kinda low.....mumble mumble.....

Hurriedly Ken and i tried to figure out where he might be, he obviously had gone off the road and there had been a long downhill back a mile or so that bottomed out as it turned left sharply and crossed an old wood bridge over a rushing little creek strewn with boulders in the narrow valley. We had navigated it slowly and carefully with no probs and i had warned Cliff that it was coming so be careful! He had acknowledged and i thought little of it....until now!
continued.........