Backcountry: The key to hunting and heritage
Oregon now has over 60,000 miles of Forest Service roads and nearly 4 million residents. With fractured habitat and small backcountry areas, our freedom to hunt and fish has eroded as habitat has been compromised.
We saw the big bull elk vanish on the first day. For the next two days, my friend Scott Stouder and I hunted on foot through the rugged canyons looking for him. Both days we departed with nothing but heavy heartbeats. He was a true ghost of the backcountry.
On the third day he appeared.
"There's a bull down there," Scott snapped.
"Where?" I blurted. Scott quickly pointed at the elk running uphill out of the ravine into open country.
I had come all the way to the Rapid River in Idaho for this opportunity. I grew up in Oregon — a beautiful state — but I was drawn to Idaho to escape the crowds and hunt the wild lands. After all, as Idahoans like to say, "Idaho is what America was." Now, I see why.
The Rapid River roadless area near Riggins, Idaho, is part of the Hells Canyon region. Extraordinarily scenic, nearly vertical country, its 85,000 inventoried roadless acres are punctuated with forested ravines and grassy hillsides. The steep canyons are home to mountain goats, black bear, mountain lions, forest grouse, chukar, redband and bull trout, steelhead, chinook and, of course, elk and mule deer.
But 85,000 acres is only a fraction of the more than 13 million acres of remote, public lands backcountry in the state. Idaho has perhaps the best elk and mule deer hunting in the lower 48 states Why? It's a no-brainer. Look at a map. See those big blank spots? Some of it's congressionally protected wilderness such as the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness, but most of it is simply "backcountry" or "roadless areas."
In general that big backcountry provides Idaho hunters more opportunity and access to game than in more developed states such as, say, Oregon.
In much of Oregon, deer and elk seasons last only days and tags are limited by a lottery system. In prime places you may have to wait half a decade just to hunt mule deer or elk.
Idaho is different. The Gem State allows elk and deer hunting for up to six weeks in some units with over-the-counter tags, hunting elk with a rifle during the rut and, in places, two tags for both deer and elk. The Idaho Department of Fish and Game supports these long seasons and liberal tags with scientific research. They found that where habitat was dissected by roads, only one in 20 bull elk survived to maturity and there was only one bull per 10 cows. In country accessed by trails, not roads, herds were healthier. In remote areas one in three bulls reached maturity and there was about one bull for every three cows.
Oregon now has over 60,000 miles of Forest Service roads and nearly 4 million residents. With fractured habitat and small backcountry areas, our freedom to hunt and fish has eroded as habitat has been compromised.
Yet, if Oregon's hunters and anglers want to hold on to what we have left, we need to demand that our remaining backcountry stay intact. The only certain way to maintain our hunting and angling heritage is for sportsmen to speak up to keep our backcountry intact. That has happened in Idaho because former Idaho Gov. Jim Risch heard sportsmen who spoke about the importance of Idaho's habitat and echoed those words when he petitioned the Forest Service to keep its inventoried roadless areas intact.
Maintaining Oregon's last roadless backcountry lands will ensure that our remaining fish and wildlife habitat remains healthy for our kids and grandkids to hunt and fish.
As it turned out, I regained my composure and shot the 6-point bull. For the next two days Scott and I packed out the first elk of my lifetime, pushing our knees, backs, hearts and lungs to the limit. It was tough, rewarding work.
Providing food for my family the old fashioned way is gratifying and helps me appreciate the value of our backcountry heritage. Oregon and the rest of America can learn a lesson from Idaho — protect our backcountry areas before hunting and fishing, and a way of life, is lost forever.
Mike Beagle is a former U.S. Army field artillery officer and Oregon high school teacher and coach. He is a field coordinator for Trout Unlimited's Public Lands Initiative (www.tu.org). He lives near Eagle Point.

