I got one! Saw over 50 goats on the first day and had 32 within 230 yards of me at one point, six of those were within 20 yards. In all of those animals we picked out only one billy and he gave us the slip when a rock rolled down the mountain during the stalk. Several nannies had respectable horns but it was too early in the hunt to tag one of them and with temps in the high 60's the hunting was too enjoyable to end it after one day.
Then came day two. The horses were saddled and ready to go but as we were leaving the cook tent after breakfast the snow hit and it snowed hard all day as the wind blew and temperatures dropped. Couldn't see more than 75 yards so we stayed in camp all day.
We woke up the third morning to five inches of snow that crunched when you walked in it. Temps were in the low single digits, maybe around zero. We could see fairly well at camp but as we climbed over a thousand feet to the hunting area we ascended into a layer of clouds that socked us in tight. We built a fire behind a small patch of trees and whenever we got a break we would glass for goats but just when we would spot some the clouds would close in again. We spent five hours standing around the fire before giving up and going back to camp. The high point of the day was when all the livestock we left at camp showed up on top of the mountain! The guide eventually rounded them up, jury-rigged some halters, and started back to camp just as the cook made an appearance very much out of breath, and wringing wet with sweat. Apparently their little electric fence was not sufficient to keep them in. After two days of non hunting I was beginning to worry a bit as to whether or not I was going to get a chance to fill my long awaited goat tag.
The fourth morning was as cold or colder than the third morning but the clouds were not as thick so we rode up the hill to the hunting area. Near the top we found lots of goat tracks in the snow but it was still a bit foggy up there. Once at the top we could not see to the east where all the goats had been the first day so we headed west where more goat areas would be closer to the horse trail. About ten minutes down the trail we popped over a small rise and there was a decent goat smack in the middle of the trail. It ran off before I could get my gun ready.
Ten minutes after that and as the fog got a bit thicker the guide pointed down the hill at half a dozen goats. These goats knew we were there but did not care much, probably because of the terrain between us and them, so I had plenty of time to get off my horse and ready myself for a sitting shot. As I did so the guide kept track of the animal with the best horns as they slowly grazed and walked along.
At the shot my goat lurched and took two steps before falling on the only patch of level ground in the area, lucky me! The other goats slowly continued along and disappeared while we were making sure my goat did not get back up. A quick check with the rangefinder showed it 103 yards away and using GPS we discovered it was almost exactly 200 feet below us.
The horses didn't even react at the shot and were still right behind us pawing for grass where we had dropped the reins.
We rode back for eight minutes, found a spot where we could drop down in elevation a bit and then rode for three minutes toward the goat before we had to abandon the horses and start out on foot. It took about 45 minutes from that point to reach the goat. The billy had dandy 8" horns with 5" bases and very thick fur.
After pictures (which I cannot figure out how to post) and field dressing we decided to slide the goat down the mountain rather than cut it up and try to get it back to the horses and mule. After sliding fifteen hundred feet down the hill on my rear end (most fun I have had in the snow in 45 years) we got to a level spot the horses could reach so we built another fire and the guide headed out to get the horses. My rifle was on my horse so the guide left his "hog leg" in case a griz found the trail where we slid the goat and decided to follow it. I told the guide I had no intention of arguing with a griz over a goat but he joked (I hope) that I needed to put up some resistance! An hour and a half later the guide showed up with the horses and we loaded up and headed for camp without incident.
The next morning we rode the ten miles back to the trail head, checked the goat in, and headed home. It was a great hunt, nothing at all like any elk, moose or deer hunt I have ever been on. It was my hunt of a lifetime.