Meat on the table!
I was at a family bar-b-que the other day and we had some antelope meat. It was very tasty and as we sat chewing the meat, we did a bit of fat-chewing too. The topic was all the different meats we'd eaten, buffalo, deer, wild pig, mountain goat, and such. About this time I mentioned elk and most of us agreed that it was some of the best. Well; it put in mind an elk hunt I went on, in the early 50's, with a pilot friend who lived in Kalispal, Montana. It was the first day of hunting season and he invited me on an expedition to a special place he had located by air. He said he had seen a herd of 10 or more. Well, my freezer compartment of the fridge was empty and I had the time so I said 'Sure, why not!' My buddy on the hunt was originally from Sweden and his name was Olefson Svenson, but plain Ole to most of us.
Anyway, we kidded him for being a bit slow in the reckoning department, but I found him to be a loyal friend and hardworking. On the morning of the hunt we loaded our gear into Ole's Stintson Voyager and took off for an abandoned sheep ranch about 60 miles southeast of Kalispal. As we neared the place Ole said we'd make a sweep of the spot he'd last seen the herd, then land and we'd hike on foot. We flew over the site and didn't see a solitary thing moving below, so we circled and flew about for a while. We talked it over a bit and he said:
'By yimminy, dey got to be down dere somewhere, let's land and scout on foot, ok!'
I was along for the ride anyway, so I said 'Sure!' We headed for the sheep ranch and the nice big pasture there. As we approached the landing site I noticed large shapes scattered all over the meadow and I pointed them out to Ole. He said:
'By golly, it's dem, dah herd!'
Sure enough, as we got closer I could make out a large group of elk, several cows and 4 bulls. This promised to be a successful meat-gathering affair. As we buzzed the pasture the herd scattered into the nearby forest and Ole put the Voyager down nice and easy, taxiing up near one of the sheep pens. We got out and carried our gear into the shed that served as a living quarters for the sheepherder. We decided that we might as well set up camp and eat, as the herd would be too spooked to try and hunt now. So, we ate and puttered around for a couple of hours, trying not to make any noise.
About 11:00 am we spotted a couple of cows on the far edge of the meadow and watching from the window, quiet like, we saw most of the other herd gradually drift in for the tantalizing alfafa the pasture offered. This was too good to be true, and in no time at all they were in position, we had our rifles ready, and Ole and I shot at the same time, bringing down two of the bulls. After dressing them out we figured they weighed about 350 pounds each. Now, 700 pounds of dead meat plus 400 pounds of live meat is quite a load for a Voyager, so I suggested we fly them out one at a time. But Ole was sure we'd get them both in one trip, including our gear. I still had some doubts but since it was Ole's plane and I was only along for the ride I said reluctantly, 'Ok Ole!'
After struggling, and with a bit of grunting, we managed to load the rear seat and floor with 700 pounds
of fresh elk meat. After piling our gear on top Ole fired up the engine and we taxied to the downwind
end of the now empty meadow. I made some mental calculations and reasoned it would be mighty close,
but we just might make it. Ole fed the throttle to the 145 hp engine and we accelerated slowly. By
midfield I sensed we wouldn't make it and shouted for him to 'pull the throttle'. He ignored my warning
and kept going, bouncing along over the meadow and trying to nurse the Voyager into the air. Along
about this time I was working the muscles on my bottom side and hoping my special angel was in the
plane. Finally though, at the last possible moment, Ole got it up, staggering and clawing for altitude.
The wheels parted the top of trees at the end of meadow as we headed down the valley towards Kalispal.
That was as close as I ever got to a crash that didn't come to past, and to this day every time I think of
elk meat I start to sweat a bit. But one thing is apparent though, those old Stintson's are sure meat hauling
affairs.