I've been around this forum for a while and have enjoyed and appreciated the time. Some of you may have noticed that I sign off with "GET TO THE HILL". From time to time I have people ask me what this means. So I am gonna take a few minutes and as Ricky Ricardo would say "splain" it to you.

First off, I would like to say that I was not the originator of "get to the hill". A good friend of mine from Colorado that I have spent lots of time on the hill started it. I have only borrowed it.

So this is what it means. Get to the hill means getting out there on the hill,be it for hunting/hiking/scouting/fishing or whatever. It means get out there-get away from the tv/computer and from the gun mags and books, it is about being out there on the hill and enjoying the sunsets and the sunrises and the game. Now I am not about to sit here and preach to you about what should be important to you, but I am gonna tell you about what is important to me.

We only have so much discretionary money and time. For us it goes for tags, for tires for gas for food and last but not least for bullets,optics and equipment. It is not about new guns, we each have several guns but really have 3 main honest go to guns. We need or want for no more. When we talk it is rarely about guns and bullets, rather it is about where we want to go next, what hunts we want to take next and with who. Oh sure from time to time we get caught up in the minutia of this or that new gun or bullet but for the most part abstain from that kind of conversation.

Going to the hill is gonna mean different things to all of us. To some it may mean hunting elk, or whities or fishing or like my brother in law enjoys taking a walk chasing a white ball (that is what I call golfing).

I am gonna share a couple of my favorite stories from the hill and return all I ask is that you take the time to share some of your favorite times if you wish.

My number one favorite is from time on the hill with my best hunting pardner-my Dad. You see dad always wanted a Mannlicher Schonauer (in an 06 of course). My Dad has always of believed it didn't matter what cartridge you used as long as it was an 06. My Dad always wanted one and always did without, he took care of the family first. So a few years back when I got the chance to do some horse trading for a nice used MS in 06 I did so. When he came out for our annual Lope hunt we went to the range to check our rifles. I gave Dad a gun case and said thanks for all the time on the hill and for teaching me, why don't you try using this one this year it is yours. He was a bit short of words but shot the gun well right (he always shoots everything well). Long story short a couple of days later found us in eastern Montana on a friends ranch. Shortly after day light Dad finally got to take a MS to the hill. That morning he got to take a lope doe with one shot from his MS-that was my best day on the hill watching Dad use the gun of his dreams!

My second best time on the hill. Sonora Mexico, November 2001 working for Kirk Kelso and Pusch Ridge Outfitters. KK took me to a sheep camp at the base of Pico Johnson-my Lord what a beautiful place. It was there that I met up with Jim. You see Jim was in mid 50's from Idaho and his body was racked with Cancer (kidney/lungs and liver). Jimmy came up to me and shook my hand and said I haven't long but I'd really like to take my final ram to finish my slam. I'm in poor shape but I have a lot of try. Truer words have never been spoken, Jim had a ton of try and bettr PMA (positive mental attitude) than any person I have ever guided. A couple of days later after a 6 hour stalk-a stalk that went about 5 to 10 steps at a time and then Jimmy would rest. Jim's dream came true. We had made our way within 200 yards of the ram when Jim got into position to take the shot. Just b4 Jim could shoot the ram took a seat to take a siesta behind a cactus. Well it kind of took us back, but Jim just said "what a beautiful view, take a look at it". We had a great view of Pico and a wonderful view of the Sea of Cortez. 30 minutes later the ram got up and Jim took his shot. At the report of .270's the ram faltered and fell. At which Jim jumped up and hugged us and burst into tears. He told me thanks for the time, thanks for the hunt, and thanks for my patience. That he had made his last stalk, taken his last shot and pulled the trigger for the last time-he could go home and die in peace his life was complete.

6 months later Jim passed, shortly after getting his ram back from the taxidermist.

Lastly I love to dry fly fish for trout. The full moon of July and August you will generally find me out on the water fishing-I grill some chicken about an hour b4 dark and then fish all night long with dry's. What a blast.....

So that is it-my thoughts on getting to the hill. I'd love to hear some of your favorite stories from the hill.

Make it your best day

"GET TO THE HILL"

Dogz

[ 11-06-2003, 18:10: Message edited by: Mark R Dobrenski ]

GET TO THE HILL...... indeed, thanks for sharing this, this is what we do and who we are.

ED

It was nice finally meeting you the other day Mark, & we've "gotten to the hill" since and a buddy and I will again tomorrow.
I guess my most recent story is the one about the grizzly in camp. Too long to paste in, or rather I'm too dang busy to re-do it here with photos & all, but it's in my Moccasin Telegraph column.
My son & I were back there this past weekend. Saw one bear track, inconclusive as to species, but it was since the snow the prior Thursday/Friday. Camp was untouched, though, & especially by now I think (hope?) the bears have gone to bed. Got into the elk, within bow range of one bunch, but couldn't put horns on 'em. The bulls are there, though. We found shredded trees with the branches laying on top of the snow, so hopefully one of these times our paths will intersect.

See you on the trail....

Very nice post Mark. I'm not going to post any stories as I don't want to take anything away from what you have already posted. However your stories help stir many good memories for me. Thanks, Troy.

Mark...a great read.
Thanks
My best was taking son on his first (of many I hope) safari. He and the PH went after a blue wildebeest in the hands and knees fashion. Just before getting into position they got winded by an unseen bull and off the herd goes. He comes back to the truck, his knees and hands skinned up and bloody and he has a grin a mile wide. "God Dad! That was really hunting!" Later he got the wildebeest, his greater kudu, a blessbok and made a hell of a shot on a long distance sprinbok. My shirt did not fit so good because my chest was so puffed out.
We are off to the ranch this weekend to get things lined up for the annual family Thanksgiving deer hunt.

Mark,
A lot of my favorite stories of my time "on the hill" often center around the company that I am priveledge to share. One in particular is named Earl. He can build a small warming fire in the time it takes most people to get their gloves off. One winter on the Middle Fork of the Salmon, Earl and I were near the end of a 10 day hunt and I had an unfilled elk tag. The day had drug on and I was getting cold. In a small snow storm, Earl did his magic and warmed some water. No soup or special broth, just water. It was like a magic potient. I was refreshed and the hunt continued. In short order we found, not an elk, but a very respectable Mule Deer. He went down fast and the rest of the day was spent packing him out. The "lunch" of hot water was so special that on subsequent trips we would hunt the same mountain and meet at some predetermined place for lunch. We got to the place of even having food. I would bring some home made soup to warm and Earl would brew some coffee. I remember sittng on a Ridge in the Frank Church Wilderness area, wiping the last crumbs from our meal and Earl spotted a small band of Big Horns. We spent another half hour just glassing them and marvelling at the way they blend in. Our lunches have always been like that. Sitting on a rock or under a tree and seeing so far and such amazing terrain. It may only be some grouse or ptarmigan that come to visit or just our retelling of each other's morning hunts.

And so when people ask me how the hunt went and I start to tell them how great our mountain top lunches were, at least you will understand. We take game from most of our hunts but we also take home from these trips something that is a lot less tangible. Something that is shared with a friend and something that you have to experience to appreciate the gift that it holds.

You know, Mark, I don't mind telling you that your stories brought tears to my eyes.

Thanks.

Mark....that was great. Thanks.

Mark, you've shared those stories before with me and they've warmed my heart! You never mentioned Jim's siesta on the sheep hunt however... that in itself ought to preach volumes to us all. A man that close to eternity has a clearer vision of all that's important... that kind of perspective is dearly bought. The older I get the more the valuable absorbing the day becomes. Sure we're on the hill to get game... no doubt. But we're also on the hill for so many other intangibles that if we're not quiet and slow we'll never find them and make them our own. I once heard a minister say, "so many are looking for the spectacular that they miss the supernatural." In other words, the most powerful and life changing things are often missed because we're too focued on "the big thing" and step right past the subtle and profound...

Good point Brad.

What are you guys dippin' into up there in Bozeman??? You're startin' to make me feel a little mundane down here in boring ol' corn country!

Excellent!

Excellent and very touching stories! My favourite moment was when my son said that he understood the difference between shooting and hunting, and that 'the hunting trip was the best'.

Get up before dawn, and "get to the hill." With your permission, I would like to adopt this saying.

*phew* kinda got the same mist in my eyes as when I watch the final scenes in Braveheart, Gladiator, and A River Runs Through It. Thanks for posting, Mark....It's been a pleasure to meet both you and Brad, (btw, Brad thanks so much for stopping in yesterday, it meant a lot to finally put a face to a name and personality.)
In T-minus 3hrs (after my next class) I get to "Get to the hill" with my prodigy (little brother) and my mentor(dad) and stalk some whities...after reading this post, I know I'm going to savor this afternoon even more.

Thanks again Mark!

Ben, it was fantastic to spend time with you yesterday. You're a young guy with a bright future! I told my wife we've got to have you over for some home cooking... I remember all too well being far away from home while in college. I was fortunate to have several families who took me in as their own and fed me

Nebraska, mostly we've got Giardia in the water though there's an outfit in Missoula that adds hops to the water and calls the peculiar stuff "Moose Drool"...my favorit amber colored water

Mark, Great story! My dad passed at 59 and I never got to hunt with him and envy those that value the time and hunts with their dads. Your a very lucky guy!

Hunting with my daughter and the thoughts of hunts with my Grandfather keep me going.

Let me tell you about the last hunt with my grandfather.

He was about 75 and I was around 13. We stood in the swamp for hours and he let me hold that old model 97 Winchester that he had bought for $3.50. We waited for hours, but he never gave up on the ducks. "They'll come" he said. Finally, three Mallards came in burning in on us and he smoothly mounted the gun and shot the first one before they had reached us. The second one folded overhead and the last one dropped to a going away shot. Grampa turned to me with a little smile and stated "we can go now". The stories I'd heard about his shooting ability were indeed true.

Snapper

Going to the hill tomorrow!

[ 11-08-2003, 04:46: Message edited by: Snapper ]

Hi Mark. We were halfway "up the hill" when we found this bear. Trying to post the photo from Hunt101 of Anna's Bear. Any ideas?

Link is: http://www.hunt101.com/img/069567.jpg

Thanks!

Snapper

[ 11-08-2003, 05:25: Message edited by: Snapper ]

Mark- GREAT POST! All too often I get enamoured with this or that gadget or whizbang, when what you describe is so true. The memories are what will be cherished when we are older, not the 'trappings' we tagged along. Thanks for the wake-up call. My future gun expenditures just got cut by a significant margin, but a directly proportional increase was made to my tag purchases!

One of my fondest memories was the look on my dad's face when I shot my first buck. He placed me in my stand and took off to get into his. Not 15 minutes later a nice 9pt (Eastern count) whitetail came easing through the hickory trees. He stopped not 20 yards from my stand and got ready to cross a fence. I lined up the 20ga. sights behind his shoulder and BANG! He jumped through the fence and took off down hill far enough that I lost sight of him. Dad had told be to stay in my stand if I shot and that he'd be over shortly. The evening before I had shot at a doe with the same gun 3 times without drawing hair, so I was VERY anxious to see if I hit this one. I unloaded the gun and quickly scrambled out of the stand to check for blood...bingo, lots of blood and hair by the fence. Just as quickly I scrambled back up into the stand so as to avoid getting in trouble when my dad showed up. About 5 minutes later I see him slipping through the woods towards me. For a guy pushing 300# he can walk through the woods more quietly than anyone else I've been around. He asked if I had shot at a deer and whether it was a buck or a doe! I said "Buck, but I'm not sure how many points it had". I handed the shotgun down out of the stand and crawled down to show him the start of the blood trail. We crossed the fence and only went 20 yards when he looked down hill and said, "There he is, he's nice one!" Being shorter than him at the time, I couldn't see the deer. But, the look of pride on his face when he clapped me on the shoulder told me all I needed to know. I'd done him proud! That look on his face that morning is something that I'll never forget. To date, that is still the biggest deer I have shot and one moment between us that I'll never forget.

[ 11-09-2003, 18:39: Message edited by: 1_pointer ]