The Mindset of a Mountain Hunter
Taking people into the great outdoors of northern British Columbia is about giving them an experience few ever get to have. Out here on the West Coast, whether we’re up in the mountains or down on the ocean, the adventure can be tailored to what each hunter is looking for.
We live in a pretty special place. I can look out the window and see an eagle perched in a tree, seagulls wheeling overhead, and snow still clinging to the mountains. It’s wild, raw, and untouched in a way most places no longer are.
In the fall, our hunts take us deep into pristine country. Sometimes we fly into alpine lakes on a little Cessna 180 or 206, landing on water few people have ever seen. The moment the plane takes off and the sound fades, you’re left in complete silence. That’s when it hits you—you’ve just been dropped in the middle of the coastal mountains of British Columbia, and this is home for the next ten days. Surrounded by stunning beauty, you know you’re in for a true wilderness adventure with no one else around.
From there, the hunt begins. Camps are set, glassing starts, and for the next three to five days you hike through breathtaking country, looking for the right mountain goat. These coastal mountains are steep, challenging, and largely inaccessible to the average person, which is part of what makes them so special. When you finally stand on top of a peak, looking out over the ocean, the inlets, glaciers, and snowfields, you realize how unique this place really is. In my mind, the Rocky Mountains don’t hold a candle to what we have here on the coast.
Preparation matters. We encourage hunters to spend time at the range before the trip, knowing their rifle inside and out. When the opportunity of a lifetime comes, you want to be confident and steady, not flinching from recoil or second-guessing yourself. I’ve seen bears cleanly taken with a 6.5 Creedmoor, and I’ve also seen poorly placed shots from big 375s that led to tough tracking jobs in steep country. The rifle matters less than being confident and accurate with it.
Out here, you often get one chance. On the shoreline, there’s only about a 20-yard window between the water’s edge and the timber. Make a clean shot and the hunt ends well; miss, and that bear disappears into the thick coastal forest. We recommend bringing the rifle you’re most comfortable with—whether it’s a 6.5 PRC, 7mm, or .300 PRC—because confidence is everything.
Long-range shots can be done, but only if you have the training and experience to back them up. A 600-yard shot is possible, but for most people, 250 yards should be the limit. Hunters who put in the time—taking long-range courses, practicing regularly at distance—find that a 250- to 400-yard shot becomes easy. It’s not about trying to take an 800-yard shot like you see on TV; it’s about being confident when the real-world opportunity presents itself.
I remember one hunter in particular who embodied this mindset. It was his first big-game hunt after only ever bird hunting. He wanted to push himself mentally, test his limits, and start putting organic meat on the table. In the 90 days leading up to the hunt, he fired 700 rounds from every shooting position he could think of, preparing for the challenge. When the moment came, he was calm, collected, and made a perfect shot. It paid off, and he came home not just with a trophy but with a whole new level of confidence in himself.
Beyond the hunt itself, the lifestyle out here is just as memorable. As soon as the first skiffs return in the evening, we light the fire on the barge. Beers are passed around, stories are shared, and warm food fills tired hunters before a good night’s sleep. Sometimes the wildlife even comes to us—last year, a grizzly strolled right down the beach in front of hunters soaking in the hot tub, only 15 yards away. Behind him, snow-capped peaks rose into the sky.
This is coastal British Columbia: raw wilderness, wild encounters, and adventures you’ll never forget.