On The Mountain

CHAPTER 1

It was over now, or so he thought. Lane Hance had had a great hunt and now he was loading his gear onto a small jet at a small airport in Billings Montana.

He was thirty-five years old now and had dreamed of this, since he was fourteen years old and had finally gotten the opportunity to go.

He had gotten a six-by-six elk and thought he might have to fight to keep it but had gotten lucky with a well-placed shot that had persuaded a six to seven-hundred-pound grizzly bear to change its" mind.

They finished loading the meat and the rest of his supplies onto a private jet along with three other members of the hunting party. Lane had been the only one lucky enough to score a record bull but the others had all gotten smaller elk plus a couple of mule deer. They had been camping in the mountains for three weeks and for the most part were ready to end their hunt.

The hunt maybe, but Lane was having a hard time leaving, he just didn"t want to leave the open spaces, or the mountains and really only had one good reason to get back to Ohio.

At least, he told himself, he still had his memories and they would last him the rest of his life. Little did he know that the time he"d be spending in the mountains was just getting started.

The small jet was warming up now and about ready to take off. The pilot was a young lady maybe thirty years old and seemed very professional. What little she said was very short and to the point. The copilot was a man of about the same age and a real high-to-do a*s. A real uppity s.o.b. He was trying to impress the lady, but Lance could see he was wasting his time.

There was no impressing this young lady. He didn"t know what her story was, nor did he care to know, but he had seen her type before. He had learned over the years that the best way to impress this lady who is not to try. Not that he cared but he had to laugh to himself. If she ever found someone it would be a total accident and then she probably wouldn"t realize it.

The plane was starting to taxi out onto the runway, and Lane laid his head back in the recliner to rest. He felt the engines thrush and the plane lift as he half-slept thinking about the hunt he had somehow won.

Lane had never won anything in his life nor had he tried, but for some reason, he had filled out a contest card in a magazine and sent it in. Six months later he had been contacted and informed that he had won. That day he had started making plans and gathering up everything he thought he would need.

He had flown from Ohio the first week of November and by Sunday evening was sitting in a camp in the Rocky Mountains with an outfitter and three other knowledgeable hunters who had hunted the same area on two other occasions.

They stayed in the main camp for two nights and one day, checking supplies, and camping gear, making sure rifles were still sighted in, and being shown from different high points, landmarks, trails, and studying maps of the area.

It was a big country and just in case anything went wrong, such as a guide getting hurt, a person would have a better chance of finding his way back to the main camp.

The food was great but anyone who has spent any time in the outdoors knows that cooking out over open fires adds a flavor that"s unforgettable. A man can get up in the morning, eat half a dozen eggs, a quarter pound of bacon, and several pieces of toast. By the time breakfast is over he"ll find that he has also drank a pot of hot black coffee.

On the second morning after breakfast backpacks were loaded and they were off hiking into God"s country.

Lane and his guide hiked for the bigger part of the day traveling up another fifteen hundred feet before cresting a ridge overlooking a big flat area that was maybe twenty acres in size. Just a small clearing with a stream and grass and a small rock overhang at the North end, and with a few pine trees in front which helped block the wind.

They set up camp there and started supper. The wood supply was already there for them and they had packed in enough food for the week. Lane took a walk and looked around for about an hour while the guide fixed supper. When he came back the food was ready and the coffee was hot. This really hit the spot and he felt like he was in heaven. It had been a long time since he had felt this relaxed and good about life.

Talking to the guide after they had eaten they laid out a game plan for the following morning. The guide, Jay was what he liked to be called, told him that there was a small trail at the South end of the clearing which led down off the rock wall for about fifty feet and opened up into another small meadow.

Jay told him that the meadow had plenty of water and lots of covers for the elk. The perfect place to find a record bull elk.

Lane commented that he had seen no fresh sign over the ground he had covered while he was gone but he also realized that didn"t necessarily mean a hell of a lot. He guessed that that could change overnight.

As he dozed off in the recliner of the plane he was remembering listening to the wolves howl in the distance and Jay telling him to make sure to keep his eyes open if he killed and elk if he happened to not be there. Grizzly bears were starting to investigate shots fired and were showing up at kills made by hunters. Just be aware of your surroundings at all times he said.