Made it! The hunting party enjoying the sight of pickup trucks that will take them home to recliners, couches, and hot baths and showers. (left to right, Quentin, Ed, Karl, Kevin)
Here is Ed packing one of the heaviest packs of the trip down the mountain. Not only did he have half the meat from the big goat to go along with his normal gear but he also had the complete head and cape from the big goat as well. Whew! It was work just watching him. 
By the end of the hunt we had a pretty good tarp canapy rigged. 
Day three of the hunt was spent enjoying scenery, recovering, and standing under the tarp for hours staying out of the showers. This is a view of camp from the first big nob with the Stikine River in the background.
After packing Kevin's goat for about four miles up and down the mountain ridges and beginning to suffer from exaustion we came into sight of camp. "Almost there!" About that time a big billy goat appeared about eight yards to my right. He didn't notice me until I told Kevin to get the camera out of my pack. This is him as he ponders which way to dive off the rock. If only we had lounged around in camp and waited for this guy to appear. It could have been so much easier.
This is a formidable notch in the upper reaches of the bowl surrounding the valley. Our camp is set up on the last visible nob in the distance (about two miles away). Shortly after I exited this notch, Kevin found a goat he liked and I watched it tumble a good 1000 feet down the mountain. Although the meat was fine the goat wasn't particularly photogenic. Subsequently no photos were published of that particular goat.
It's getting away! Kevin decided to give this one a little extra life. Although I thought this was a young billy, there were kids and a nannies in the area.
Kevin takes aim.
Just after Karl shot goat number 1, Kevin and I spotted a goat just before the next nob. This is Kevin doing his best stalk. The goat is on the other side of this ridge, out of sight.
Karl, due to his seniority-or something like that, obtained the rights to shoot goat number1. He shot it from the little cliff band behind his head. One nice shot was all it took, although there were several other "insurance" type shots as well.
Continuing the stalk.
Karl (camo) and Kevin - the two guys with goat tags - check out billy goat number 1, just visible above the ground in front of Karl.
Heading out for the goat. You can see it on the right hand side of the photo.
Two tents and a tarp. We spent a lot of our time under the tarp and out of the rain. The guys are getting ready to pursue goat number 1.
Our (Karl, Ed, and Quentin) home for three nights. The mountain at the other side of the bowl is the primary peak on this particular ridge. (This is day two)
Karl is checking things out during a brief break in the weather after setting up camp on the first day.
A little bit more that Nate's feet are getting a rest here. Marsha Peak and the ridge we hunted are in the background.
At last, the feet get a rest. A welcome experience.
Porterfield Creek. Spotted two 12" cutthroat trout near here. 
Even the brightest sunlight couldn't shed much light on this North facing slope.
The ridge extending from Berg mountain often appears to have fresh snow even on the warmest days. We were able to confirm that rather than snow, it is simply rock.
A couple blue jewels in a mountain setting glistening in the morning light.
The sunset wore increasingly vibrant colors as the sun sank deeper below the horizon.
I was treated to a beautiful sunset.
On guard at goat camp.
On the ridge overlooking camp (behind my head) and Virginia Lake in the background.
We both enjoyed walking on the pillowed (apparent) granite made smooth by glacial action. We could see recent glacial scuffing on some bedrock off the side of the ridge.
Over the snow.
The snow was rather deep. This particular goat was buried up to its horns in the white stuff.
Nate is enjoying the view of the timber in the valley and wishing that pack would lose some weight.
Having a little bit of fun with the horns here.
In the clouds.
Nate is looking over the bowl on the North side of the ridge.
Breather. I'm packing the rifle and horns, Nate is packing everything else. I offered to carry the pack but he insisted. I wasn't about to argue.
Now about 1.5 miles back to camp.
The valley above the falls was very picturesque. Looked very fertile and green and full of muskegs.
