The Hunt Her Dad Always Dreamed Of As told by Joshua Kainai (Siipi’anski)

It wasn’t just any bull I was after that season, you see. I’d been out in that swamp for weeks, felt like months sometimes, just scouting, reading sign, observing. This land, it talks to you if you listen. And it was telling me there were some true giants out there – moose with racks you could hang a saddle on, bulls that would make even a grizzly think twice. The kind that gets your blood pumping just seeing their tracks.

But there was this one bull… different. He didn't follow the usual patterns. Didn't come to the calls like the others, wasn't showing up in the familiar feeding grounds. Quiet. Elusive. Like a ghost moving through the timber. But I knew he was there. His tracks, they were unmistakable – deep, heavy. And every time I thought I was on him, poof, gone. Vanished like he was never there at all.

I had a handful of these big boys I was keeping tabs on. Every day, I was out there, learning their routes, their habits, trying to get inside their heads. Because I knew, eventually, one of them would slip up. One of them would make a mistake and step into my world.

Then the call came. A daughter, booking a hunt for her dad. She wasn't going to be out here with us; she was off on her own hunt, way out in the mountains somewhere. But this hunt? This was for him. A chance to give her father the dream he'd always held onto – a bull bigger than he'd ever imagined.

The weather turned one morning, just like I'd felt it coming. A storm blew in quick, bringing snow and wind that’d send most folks running for cover. But for me? That was the sign. That was the time. The storm, it would be our cloak, make the hunt tougher, yeah, but also… more real.

I brought him to the edge of the swamp around midday. Snow was already piling up, the wind had a real bite to it, but it didn't matter. We were there. And the bull I'd been shadowing for weeks? He was close. I could feel it in the air.

I led the way, breaking trail through the deep snow, into the thick of the forest. Every step deliberate. This wasn't just about pulling a trigger. It was about everything that came before. The patience, the understanding of this land, knowing where to be when the time is right. The storm howled all around us, but I knew it was the perfect cover for a bull like him.

I let out a call, a deep, guttural grunt that carried through the wind, followed by the soft sound of a cow. Silence for a long moment. Then, a faint answer in the distance. Low. Powerful. It was him. I just knew it.

And then, through the swirling snow, he materialized. The bull I'd been after all this time, standing there, proud and massive. He didn't come charging in like some would. He moved slow, cautious, but his presence… you couldn't deny it. His rack was thick, wide – exactly the kind of bone I'd been waiting for. I knew right then, this was him.

I got the client into position, kept him steady, calm. Thirty yards. The shot cracked through the storm, sharp and clean, but it wasn't a complete pass-through. The bull bolt, in a panic he just ran and melted back into the trees with speed, quiet confidence only a true monarch has.

We waited a bit, let the woods settle. The storm didn't ease up. We started tracking, following the blood in the snow, one step after another. The wind howled like a hungry wolf, the snow kept falling, but we kept moving. Hours it took, pushing through that storm. Finally, we found him – laid up under a big spruce, resting like he was on his throne.

I knelt down beside him, feeling the weight of it all. This was it. The end of weeks of scouting, hours of waiting, and a storm that seemed to give us the final edge. We stood there in the snow, quiet, respectful. Giving thanks to the land for this chance.

Meanwhile, his daughter, miles away, she didn't know any of this was happening. Still out on her own hunt, chasing her own dream, waiting for her opportunity. But as that bull lay there, just moments after the shot, the client pulled out his phone.

The text was simple. I can't tell you the exact words, you understand, but I can tell you the feeling behind them:

'I got 'em.'

Three words. That's all it took. Her dad had finally done it. The hunt he'd always dreamed of, finally real. And the best part? His daughter, she made that happen for him.

Here at Alberta Big Game Outfitters, we don't just guide hunts. We're part of something bigger. It's about the long game – the months of reading the land, the patience that tests you, the storm that throws everything at you, and that one shot that brings it all together.

Alberta Big Game Outfitters. This is what a real hunt looks like. This is real adventure.

— Joshua Kainai (Siipi’anski), Owner/Operator, Alberta Big Game Outfitters."