Kenetrek Mountain Guide Boot Review

Well archery season here in Montana has been officially over for a couple weeks now and the weather is starting to get colder by the day. Although I already am missing the sounds bugling elk echoing through the mountains, I was lucky enough to try out some new gear this past season. This is an in depth look at the Kenetrek Mountain Guide Boot.

First off, Kenetrek is an amazing company, full of helpful and knowledgeable individuals that can walk you through anything and everything that you would ever want to know about the products and the company itself. This company has a warehouse based in Bozeman, MT and if you do order product it gets to your door in a very timely manner.  But that is enough about the company lets get to the product.

I have hunted in many different boots, and to this point I have yet to find a pair that holds up like the Mountain Guides have.  I am a hunting guide in Montana and between spring bear, archery elk, and the general rifle season I spend over 60 days just guiding. On top of that I am chasing elk for myself and scouting during the summer.  To put it plainly I beat the hell out of my boots.

The reason I took my chance with the Mountain Guides over the insanely popular Mountain Extreme was because the Mountain Guides come with a Vibram sole.  This sole holds up to the wear and tear that the Rocky mountains of Montana have on any pair of boots. The one draw back to the Vibram sole is that when the snow flies you will experience a bit more slippage on rocks and trees buried in the snow, mainly because the sole is harder than the K-talon. So if you maybe aren’t as sure footed of a hunter or someone that hunts only rifle season where the ground is primarily covered in snow then the Mountain Guides may not be what your looking for. However, if that is your situation don’t worry because the K-talon sole in the Mountain Extremes is a pretty bad ass sole as well.

The other thing I really liked about the Mountain Guide was the fact that the rubber rand on the boot is only on the toe portion. Now this is nothing to worry about, but the way my mind works is that having less rand means that there is a decrease in area where the glue that holds the rand can fail. I have never had a problem with any rand whether it was full, 3/4 or just the toe portion. So if you do like to have more rubber rand on your boots the Extremes have it.

These boots have a ton of other extras as well. They are crampon compatible, meaning that there is a lip on the front and the back that crampons rest. The rubber in these areas also provides a spot where the crampons rest so that they are not rubbing against the leather of the boots. They also have a very aggressive tread pattern. No joke, you will feel like you could walk straight up a vertical wall when you have these boots on your feet.

The next and last thing that I really wanted to touch on is comfort. These boots are mad from a very high quality leather and the have a very stiff shank. So these boots do take some time to break in, however, once they are broken in it is like you went from driving a tank to a Cadillac you just have to give them time. There will be people out there that will be comfortable in the boots from the time they buy them. What I would recommend is to buy the boots well before your hunting trip or season starts and wear them every place that you can, take hike in them, put them on in the house and complete your honey do list, whatever works best do as long as you have the boots on because it will be worth it in the long run. Also these boots come in both un-insulated and insulated so depending on what time of year you may be hunting in and what your climate and weather is like in your area there is still a boot for you. I have the un-insulated boot because I primarily archery hunt in Montana, and even though there was some damn cold days this past season I never had a time when my feet were cold even during long, evening set ups.

In all I would highly recommend this boot to anyone, I have know attachment to the Kenetrek company and have other boots that I wear, but I can say with out a doubt that these are the best boots that I have worn. The company is great to work with if something does fail in the boots and if you have questions that need to be answered. They have a great warranty and everyone that I talked to had an awesome attitude. So this season if you are looking for a new boot, one that will work as hard and as long as you want to I don’t know I would ever go another direction. As always have a great time in the mountains, happy hunting and God Bless.

 

Montana Tines

Walking the Line Between Happiness and Heartache:

“Down,” I whispered as my client and I quietly took a knee in the snow. I had been a tough week, full of missed opportunities. We had a tough morning, it was the last full day and we had not seen a dang thing, no animals, no fresh tracks, blistering wind and another miserable climb up the mountain. We, were on the way back to the vehicle to make a plan for the afternoon. I stopped, not sure of what I had seen. I had caught a glimmer of light shining through the trees. Something that I knew deep down was not a rock or a tree branch. I raised my Vortex Razors to my eyes to investigate it further. Then I saw it, an antler moving in the trees. My heart started racing, as if it was going to break its way out of my chest. This was it, the moment that my client and I had been working towards all week long. I turned to my client and pointed the buck out, and asked if that was a shot that he could make. I decided that there was too much debris in the way to be comfortable and grabbed my client and quickly stalked our way closer to a spot that offered a few more shooting lanes. We sat, patiently, waiting for the buck to offer us a shot. He was chasing does so I knew we had some time and that eventually a shot would come. Inside I was hoping that this would be the moment that overshadowed all the opportunities that had been squandered throughout the week. The buck started to move towards and opening that I knew would allow us to get off a good shot. A doe came through first, followed by a smaller buck, then came the one we were after. As I watched through my binoculars, I heard a shot ring out. The echo, swept down the draw, the buck hunched up and turned downhill away from the does and into the trees. Everything that I had seen indicated that the buck was hit.

With smiles on our face and deep desire to put our hands on the buck we had just shot we went down to check for blood and find our animal. As we got to the spot that the buck was standing we shot my heart began to almost stop beating and started to sink in my chest. There was no blood that I could find and the tracking was made more difficult because of the amount of pine debris left from past logging activities. The word devastated did not even begin to describe how my client and I were feeling. I knew in my mind that the buck was hit, but began to talk myself out of because of past experiences with other clients. We zigged and zagged down towards the area we had thought the buck went, add “Nothing.” I decided to pull out and head to the vehicle. We met up with the other guides and discussed the entire event. We all deduced that the buck was hit and we decided to go back in and look for the deer together.
We all headed out, with a convoy of jeeps going down the mountain road to the area that we had been hunting. We stepped out, armed and looking like a company of soldiers going through the mountains. When we got the area we all began looking for hair, blood, bone or anything else that we could find to confirm a hit. We turned into a pack of hounds, then I found it, a large patch of hair. We continued to follow the tracks and found little, dime sized spots of blood. We tracked this to an area where the track had broken off and was now all alone making it a little easier to follow. We decided that the buck was hit in the front leg and was dragging it pretty bad in the snow, but was still able to cover some country and it would be best to just have my client and I track it from that point on.
We took a little break to catch our breath and get some water as the rest of the group turned back to the vehicles. We only had a couple hours before shooting light was gone and it had started to snow, covering the track and added to our despair. My client and I pushed forward following the track by the drag mark in the snow , left by a broken front leg. As went up the mountain we were filled with a new feeling happiness and hope that the track would lead us to the downed animal. However, this feeling quickly faded away. We followed the track to a fence. This fence was a crossing point were elk, deer and moose had all been crossing trampling down the track that we had been following. We were stuck between a rock and a hard place. There was nothing tangible that we could pick out that would allow us to continue to track our deer. After a few minutes of debating with myself about what we should do to give ourselves the best chance to find the deer, I decided to circle out. We began to make a big circle around the last blood. We went up the mountain and then cut across through the trees and down a deep ravine back to where the blood was. We stopped for a second, I turned to my client and said, “That buck has to bedded somewhere in here,” pointing to the little patch of trees in front of us. We started off again our heads still low and the despair growing deeper and deeper. We hadn’t even walked fifty yards, then trees seemed to explode in front of us as we jumped a deer. One look at the rack and I knew it was our deer. He leaped up, seeming to take 15 foot bounces as he bounded away down the mountain. I found the spot he was bedded and it was full of blood, confirming that this was in fact our deer. We began to follow the tracks down the mountain.
We followed the deer to the spot where we had started to circle through the trees. The shooting light was running out, but the good part was it was snowing harder by the minute. This let me know without a shadow of a doubt what tracks I was on and not confusing them with the other tracks on the mountain. We had about an hour left before dark, I turned to my client and told him, “ This is going to suck, but we have to get this done.” I was motivated, desperate to not let the animal get away and continue to suffer. I told him, “I was not going to stop and that we had an hour to get it done, so he needed to keep up and we had to go till we found him.” Off we went, like a wolf my nose in the track and my eyes scouring the country in front of us. The chase was on, minutes were ticking away. We followed him down the mountain, through thick timber and sage brush. As we pressed on, the thought of amazement went through my head. Seeing the country this buck was going through and how well he was getting around showing that he was tough as they come. He weaved his way down, not showing himself to hunters on the road till he knew it was safe, at which he crossed within 75 yards of the jeep. I stopped briefly to make sure my client was still with me. He was still recovering from a recent back surgery so I knew this was tough on him. I kept telling him that I did not mean to look like a jerk and like I was not taking the way he was feeling into account, but we absolutely had no choice but to press onward.
We were down to the last 20 minutes of shooting light as we began to follow the buck up the mountain behind the jeep. I was hoping that he would not get to the rock outcrop at the top of a meadow as that would have cooked our goose and we would lose the fight. We got to a spot where it looked like the tracks stopped! The buck couldn’t just disappear. Then I notice that he had turned back on his own prints, he was either tired or extremely smart, maybe both, but he stepped track for track down the hill, making the tracks all look like one set. We only had about ten minutes at this point and doubt started to creep back into the minding, knowing that if he didn’t stop soon then our chance of harvest was slim to none. I dragged me client with me as we followed track once again, five minutes later, I turned around a tree and there he was, bedded down under a big pine no more than ten yards from me. I turned and said “There he is” to my client. His rifle raised and the crack of his rifle firing once again echoed through the forest. This time the echo of the shot was followed by a loud scream. A scream of joy as the buck finally laid before us on the ground. We had done it, achieved what we set out to do and not given up, living the old adage of “persistence pays off.” We were overcome by happiness and joy as my client finally put his hands around the antlers of the large buck.

As we began to take pictures I began to think about all the emotions us as hunters go through. The despair, the joy, and knowing that things do not go your way at first, but we owe it to the animal to push through that and continue to press forward. This hunt had been both physically and mentally tough on both my client and I, and we, like all hunter’s will in their time, had walked the line between happiness and heartache, and with the motivation, persistence and drive to harvest that animal and follow up on our shot had lead us to a joy filled experience that both my client and I will never forget.

Sheep State of Mind

   The mountains of Montana are a place full wonder and amazement there to be found by all that go looking for it. They are rugged by nature and full of opportunities, taken on by only a select few that are brave enough to adventure deep into the unknown. Made of talus and shale, with high peaks that are covered in snow for most of the year, I have found that they will eat you up and wear you down; crushing your will with every chance they are given. Yet, I often find myself wondering what it is that brings me back to the mountains, whether physically or in my mind. I believe the answer is simple. They are a simple place, where the chaos of the world is left behind. Leaving you with a clear train of thought and the chance to let go of everything and focus only on the task at hand. This love of the mountains, for me all started with the love of an animal that is coveted by most mountain hunters and their want to harvest an icon of the mountain terrain.

My love for bighorn sheep began back in 2010. I began to study these animals, taking to the mountains every weekend and following bands of sheep recording the effects of pneumonia on local Montana populations. I had the opportunity to see both sides of the story, the guts and glory, and the life and death situations that are cast over these animals on a daily basis. This later turned into a sickness, a state of mind that haunted me at all times of the day. My mind was stuck on sheep.

Then in 2011 I helped out with my first sheep hunt. Spending some weeks of the summer in the heart of the Lee Metcalf Wilderness of Montana, searching for sheep and helping a friend to make a game plan that would help to fill the tag he drew that year. Opportunities to hunt and harvest sheep in Montana are a rare commodity due to the lottery system and regulations, a chance that many apply for all their life and are never successful at. An opportunity that cannot go wasted, so we took to the mountains that fall and put the plan to work.

    We traveled deep into the wilderness, by horse to a drop camp that would be our home for that week. Every day we would spend our time trekking up and down this steep country in pursuit of our quarry. Spending time on the high ground glassing with tearing eyes, gazing on nothing but mountains for as far as the eye could see. The air was thin, the wind relentless and a sharp bite from the cold with every breath taken in. For seven days we searched for a diamond in the rough. Every nook and cranny that we could find was scoured again and again. With every day that passed, the thought of failure to find a ram crept into the mind. We had to search for ways of keeping the spirits up and not letting the mountain weather and lack of sheep crush our will. Every day soreness and fatigue sank deeper and deeper, and the mental part of hunting became more and more important. Making friends with the mountain goats and weasels, and keeping our camp free of bears seemed to be a daily activity. That week we saw nothing but pretty scenery and mountains goats, all the while being pounded with the freezing temperatures and high mountain blizzards that often come about with little warning in these rugged mountain environments, with not a sheep in sight for the duration of the trip.

The long walk out that week was filled with a sullen, sorrowful mood. We had over 8 mile hike by foot to the trail head to think about the sheep that eluded us. Tired, sore and weary we trudged on through rain that seemed to add insult to injury. Our packs seemed to be heavier than earlier in the week and the only way we would have welcomed that is if we were loaded with quarters and horns and a since of success. To add insult to injury we were forced to tread on through rain, it was as if mother nature herself was in a way trying to destroy and crush what will power we had left, daring us to come back and try again. The way out was littered with bear tracks, as well as elk hunters that were taking to the mountains with their bows to chase the bugling bulls of the high country. They were just getting started with their hunt and their good moods and thoughts of success’s that laid ahead did well for the soul. Giving us, as a group of sheep hunters, with nothing to show from our venture, the added energy to drive on and get back to the vehicles and back home in a better mood than that we began the hike out with.

With determination and the deep fear of eating a once in a lifetime tag success was eventually reached weeks later, as my friend was able to harvest a nice ram towards the end of the season. His ram was taken just over the mountain from the area that we had spent so much time and effort weeks ago. When I was finally able to gaze upon his trophy when he got home I was over taken with joy and envy, glad that he had filled his tag and so desperately wanting nothing else but to try my hand at the game and have an opportunity to harvest a bighorn ram of my own. The ups and downs of this hunt quickly became one of my favorite hunting memories, and my love for sheep and mountain hunting blossomed. I found myself not being able to get enough of it.

I then kept studying sheep for the remainder of my undergraduate degree. Tracking sheep and observing effect that pneumonia had on various Montana bighorn populations. The death and destruction that the disease left in its wake tore at my heart strings, as I was rendered helpless while watching rams with such a violent cough that it would often drop them to their knees, or seeing sheep in such bad condition that they could not get out of their bed to graze, when I wanted to help so badly. I found the remains of many of the fallen warriors of the mountains, laying, in areas of seclusion, fallen victim to the pneumonia epidemic racing through the heard. With this my sickness for all things sheep grew deeper, my love for them and the mountains grew fiercer, constantly burning in my soul. I was left yearning for the chance to get my fix in any way I can.
I now am buying my time until I am blessed with an opportunity to harvest a sheep of my own. I am found on many days braving the cold, wind, and rain and driving snow, and taking on the challenges the mountains have to offer, to capture moments that can be shared with others. I will find almost any excuse that I can to get to the mountains and spend time in sheep country. I am always searching for chances to study sheep in their environment, over taken with a want to learn more, and to gain the knowledge that I can share with others. Hoping I can eventually use such knowledge when it comes my time to take to the mountains in pursuit of my own trophy.

Until that time does come, and I draw that most coveted of tags given to harvest a sheep in Montana, I must find a different way to spend time with them. So I still take to the mountains in search of sheep, pushing through the wind and snow, honing my mountain hunting skills. My camera has, in a since, become my rifle, and with it I can shoot any sheep that I come upon and still have something that will last me a life time. The mountains provide me the opportunity to stay in shape and venture into the terrain I love. An environment known only to whose hearts dwell in the mountains, where we as hunters can leave behind all other things, and have some amount of time to ourselves, to think and wonder about all things. They stand constant always waiting for next man up that wants to try his luck and push himself to the max. Sheep country is weary souls can go to find their path and for me they are a place where I can gaze on the snow covered peaks, contemplate the meaning of many things. Whether in the mountains I love, at home or on the job I find that I am always left in a sheep state of mind.

Welcome To Montana Tines!

Hello fellow outdoors men,

Welcome to the Montana Tines website.  This site is created to capture the essence of hunting and fishing sports in Montana and the surrounding areas.  Through media, gear reviews and stories Montana Tines hopes to capture  the imagination by sharing our hunting and fishing adventures.   You can follow us now on Instagram and Facebook.

Happy Hunting,

Montana Tines