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Hunting Outfitters | Big Timber, MT

K Lazy Three Outfitters | By hunting three o
664 HWY 10 East, Big Timber, MT 59011
2.3k 712

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Who

All ages

When

Check the description for time information.

Contact Info

406.932.6793 Visit Website

Description

Montana Adventure Travel:

We provide a complete Montana adventure. Whether it is a fly fishing trip, horseback trail ride or a Montana big game hunt for Elk, Mule Deer, or Mountain Goat, K Lazy Three Outfitters is here to provide you the opportunity of  a life time. The abundance of Montana game and fish plus the majestic scenery of the Rocky Mountains provides a wilderness opportunity for that adventure vacation!

Montana Summer Adventure Trip:

Our summer wilderness travel adventure combines a summer camping vacation along with horseback riding and great trout fly fishing to provide a perfect adventure . Spectacular scenery, well trained horses and professional guides combine to make this an excellent adventure vacation. Click on our Summer Adventure Trips links above for more details.

Montana Big Game Hunting:

When the season changes to fall and the elk begin to bugle, we turn our full attention to Montana hunting! This includes Montana elk hunting, mountain goat hunting and mule deer hunting. We operate camps in three different areas to provide the best possible opportunity to successfully take these three big game species. Click on our Fall Hunting Trips link above for more details.

Montana Elk Hunting:

We operate two backcountry camps in the Scapegoat Wilderness area, which are 14 and 22 miles from the Indian Meadow Trailhead. The trailhead is 60 miles northwest of Helena, Montana. While our primary focus is elk hunting and mule deer hunting; we are available to guide individuals that have been lucky enough to draw a moose or mountain goat tag for our area which is region 280 (September – early November).

Montana Mountain Goat Hunting:

For those individuals lucky enough to draw a mountain goat tag for area 323, we pack up our gear and our traveling camp and head south of Big Timber for the Boulder River drainage in pursuit of that trophy Billy (mid November).

Montana Mule Deer Hunting:

Later in the season, when the deer are in the peak of the rut, we offer a mule deer hunting trip for those elusive mossy horn bucks. Our late season mule deer hunting camp is located south of Big Timber in the heart of the Deer Creek Mountains (late November).

Montana Hunting Testimonials, Elk, Mule Deer and Goats

The following is from Galen & Ben Fitzel’s hunt with K Lazy 3 Outfitters on September 23 -29, 2012

Bucket List Hunt

Alarm buzzed

at 4:30AM September 22, 2012. Van was packed and ready to pick up my son (Ben) in Blaine, MN and head West to our stop for the night at Billings , MT at least that’s what we had planned.  Several hours of windshield time, gas and rest stops later we rolled into Billings–checked into a motel and went to a restaurant came back and was resting on the bed watching college football at around 8:00 PM when my cell phone rang.  The pleasant voice asked my name and inquired where I was—Julie Todd in her very soft directing voice said that we were to be in Lincoln, MT that night for the pre-meeting before we ride into camp EARLY next morning.  Dead silence from my end of the phone –jaw dropped and a questioned look and inquiry from Ben.  What’s wrong Dad? After several moments I answered Julie saying THANK YOU for calling –please inform Leepers Hotel to keep the light on and room open and will settle up in the morning. It was around 2:00AM we arrived in Lincoln and caught a few winks of shut eye to be ready by 6:00 AM for an apology to Brett for our misunderstanding of time. A short walk over to the Lincoln café for breakfast and meet our two hunters (Art and Spike) joining us in elk camp. Chemistry of personalities blended very well with Art, Spike, Ben and I immediately—lack of sleep did not seem to bother because we were all geeked up.

Drove to the trail head and proceeded to have gear packed— get horse selection by Brett along with specific instructions on what to do on the trail ride to camp. Several miles and hours later, butts sore we arrived half way for

a lunch break at the Rangerettes cabin.  Spike took out his splint for his teeth so he could eat.  A good half hour passed and we finally received permission to continue on the trail because of the nearby forest fires which previously closed the trail. The fire was still encroaching on the Spring Meadow camp that we were originally heading into. Just days before Brett and crew scrambled and set up a new camp. Lunch finished and a rest for the horses Brett said— Lets head out—–NO, NO we have to look for my teeth I must have dropped them.   We all looked around the area of the horses to no avail.  We had to take off and Spike was not a happy camper that he had lost his teeth; however, he did pack a spare set along just in case.  Several hours later we rode into camp and

unpacked our gear and got acquainted to our new home.  Conway the cook made supper along with some delicious cowboy coffee. Ben was not feeling good and made several trips to the back forty for relief.

Next morning arrived early as Brett hung the gas lantern in tent at 4:30AM. Agenda:  wake-up, get dressed, eat breakfast, and be on the horse by 5:15AM riding out of camp. During the night Ben was getting more sick and made the best decision to stay in bed the next day.  Really bummed out that he was not able to go, however, realized need to rest for the remainder of the hunt and not pass everybody else the bug. . Brett said to me— you and I will head out.  It is good that horses can see during the night and I cannot, because if I would have seen what we went up in the dark I might have been more petrified. Casper was the name of my horse for a reason.  Yes, he was white and a wonderful horse that had better sure footing than me at times and saved many a footsteps up the mountain.  During the dark morning ride up the mountain over numerous downed logs traversing back and forth and rocks slipping and sliding away we were at the summit of a long mountain range to see three mule deer bucks slowly meandering away. None were really shooters even though had the mule deer license.  Finally we reached a point where we tied the horses hiked another 45 minutes to a ledge overlooking a couple of game trails into the valley below.  Brett indicated that the game trail was 220 yards. Just the distance I had sighted in the 7mm Winchester.   We waited with anticipation that at any moment elk would be racing up the game trails for escape of the other hunters encroaching below.  The smoke haze was drifting in and was getting thicker and thicker and suddenly Brandon, Spike and Art appeared below in the valley next to the small stream.  No elk so Brett and I headed up the mountain to the summit to listen for bugles and have our Conway sandwich.  Half done with the sandwich a bugle came from the valley below.  Brett stopped chewing and looked at me and said did you hear that. I answered YES, and he said that is a big SOB bull. What do you want to do? Well I did not come here to listen. Ok, take off all unnecessary clothing and stuff we are going after him.

I ended up with my safety orange vest, light wool shirt, bottle of water extra ammo just in case and started the journey of my life down the steeper than steep shale mountain slide.   I had not done much training or conditioning of muscles from knees to hips for going down a mountain on sliding shale rocks—not something a flat lander sees. About ¾ of a mile down we arrived at an outcrop of small trees.  Brett takes his bugle call and announces to the herd bull that we are approaching. Yes, the herd bull answered and the heart started pumping more.  However, I was very exhausted and I looked at Brett gasping for air and said I do not know if I can make it. Brett looked at me with the steel blues and reached over grabbed my gun and said yes you can.  Now with about 10 less pounds of gun and second wind I could use both hands to grab onto brush so one did not slide down the mountain we preceded onward. Suddenly he stopped and motioned. I quickly as I could advanced to Brett were he said he had just seen a satellite bull jump over the log and head farther down to the valley.  I mentioned to Brett that this was definitely not like having the bulls in a fenced corral. He laughed and smiled and said lets go.  Another couple hundred yards and we stopped and he pointed and their stood a 5 x 5 looking straight at use.  I raised the gun, however, looking into the sunshine it completely washed out the vision of the bull and only could see with the naked eye and then with a blink of the eye the bull jumped over the small ridge and was gone.  Brett grabbed the cow call and called four times and listened. Quickly he turned and said something is coming—–get ready.  And then one could hear the brush crashing down in the ravine below.  Do you see him? He is a shooter —-take him now —-he is 163 yards and aim low. BANG—I said aim low, you shot over him. Within seconds a second shell was chambered and the bull was still standing broadside at a slight angle. Aimed lower and BANG the Winchester reported with the bull hitting the ground. We could see the head moving around behind some brush , however, could not get a clean shot so we waited for a half hour and patiently watched.  Brett suggested that I stay put so I could guide him to the bull.  Another half hour passed because the time to get over to the bull was not a walk in the park.  Coming down the steep hill across the deep ravine to the bull was Brett.  I said about 100 feet in the brush below.

Brett walked closer keeping a tree between him and the bull and when he got close enough he grabbed the antler and said he is alive.  Well, it was good the tree was between him and the bull because he started to charge him.

Brett said it was like déjà Vu when he was riding the bulls in the rodeo. The bull took off down the hill and Brett yelled shoot, shoot—I yelled back that I would not shoot until he was clear. I could see the bull going in and out of the brush heading farther away down the hill out of sight until he stopped.  Antlers, head and small portion of the neck was all that was visible. Instantly positioned the crosshair on the neck remembering what Brett said before aim low.  Shot and the bull was laying on the ground.  Brett yelled back that the bull was a nice 6 x 7. He said start heading up the mountain back to horses and he would catch up after taking care of the bull.

Well, about three fourths up the mountain Brett caught up to me and showed me the photos of the bull on my camera.  Once up to the top of the mountain it was another hour back to the horses and then a happy ride back to camp.  Brett had saved the heart so when we returned to camp we were going to have hor-d’ oeuvres before dinner.  As we rode into camp and took care of the horses everybody was wondering if we had any luck.  As Brett and I entered the eating tent Brett threw the paper bag with the heart in the direction to Conway and said the lunch was terrible and that he should go back to cooking class.  Conway laughed and said that he would think about it.  Conway started to prepare the skillet and fixings for the delicious appetizer of elk heart and onions.  Yum, Yum.  I had a smile that was from side to side while I showed the photos of the bull elk to everybody.  Unfortunately, Brett had mentioned that I had a 50/50 chance that the bull would be in one piece or the property of a grizzly when returning the next day to pack out.  My legs were still cramping and very sore so I said to Ben you need to go along and help pack out.  Of course Ben was eager to go since he was in camp the day before and felt much better.

O dark thirty and by 5:15AM the next day we were on horses heading up the trail to pack out the elk. Brandon, Brett, Ben and I made our way until I got off on a ridge a couple miles away and hunted Mule deer back to camp.  I sat on the ridge and watched the three B’s ride away and walk down into the next valley over a mile away wondering if the grizz had found my bull. Up the steep mountain face the three B’s proceeded until they disappeared out of site and then I would find out the answer back at camp that evening.  Brandon and Ben were going to hunt the valley were the big bull was the day before and hopefully was still in the area.   Brett was going to pack out to another camp location and meet the packer to get the meat into Lincoln in the cooler.

It was about 5:30 that evening that Brandon and Ben walked back into camp from their seven mile hike back from the pack out because all horses were needed to pack out the meat which was not found by the grizz.  They had not seen any elk, however, felt they were in the right area because the smell of elk was in the air, however, no luck.  I had not seen any mule deer bucks only does and fawns which still made an interesting hunt back to camp.  At about 8:45 PM we heard horses coming and it was Brett returning to camp after a long, long, long ride.  Brett said that in all of his guiding of twenty years plus this was right up there of being 1 or 2 in the worst pack out ever.  We all had Wang (tang and whiskey) and toasted to the success. Next day was again up early and out by 5:15AM to go after elk.  I walked up the valley glassing in hoping of catching a mule deer buck grazing along the ridges—again only does and fawns. Oh well, still beautiful and wonderful to be out in this part of God’s creation. Ben had a Texas heart shot at a cow, and missed. Brandon took Art and Spike up and down a mountain via horses that Spike was almost speechless when they returned to camp. They did witness a nice bull heading up the game trail with a couple of cows for safety, however, way out of distance.  The last evening Jerry came in with the pack train to prepare for the next hunters and brought in the missing teeth for Spike that the Rangerettes found.  You would have thought Spike had shot the biggest Elk in North American for he was one happy camper. Next day long ride back to the trail head with a midway stop at the Rangerettes cabin and special thanks from Spike for finding his teeth. Once back to the trail head we unpacked and loaded up the vehicle to head to Lincoln and pickup the elk from the cooler.  We packed the elk in four coolers along with several bags of ice and headed homeward bound with many hours of windshield time.  Sixteen hours later we pulled into Blaine, MN.  Our trip was almost complete except for arranging with the meat market and taxidermist to take care of butchering and mounting.

Even though this was my bucket list hunt I feel this was Spikes for he passed away unexpectantely two weeks after the hunt.

Thanks to Brett and Julie Todd and the K Lazy 3 Outfitters organization for the memories.

“Life is not measured by the breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away”

Regards,

Galen A.Fitzel

St. Paul, MN

hoot Straight or Shoot Often

This story was written by Hank Newburn who hunted with K Lazy Three Outfitters in September of 2011 and it appeared in the Big Timber Pioneer and the Agi-News newspaper.The story as presented here is exactly as it was written.

On the second morning of our early season elk hunt in the Scapegoat Wilderness, I was awakened shortly after 3:00 A.M. by Brett Todd, the owner of K Lazy 3 Outfitters. There was a bit of moonlight lighting the trail for our 2 1/2 hour ride to exactly where Brett wanted to be when daylight finally arrived. If you have never ridden a horse for several hours on a dark mountain trail, it is a trust exercise that everyone should experience.

Later in the day, Brett and I were overlooking a wooded area from a vista that was so amazing I cannot describe it. I took pictures, but the pictures don’t really show the magnificence of the view. Brett was perched like an eagle out on a rocky point. He pointed out a shelf to our right where he had once had a hunter who disappointed him when he wasn’t able to get close enough to the edge to take a shot at a bull elk below. I told him I could shoot from that shelf but not from where Brett currently was perched. I am somewhat afraid of heights, but it never occurred to me that I might have to follow through on that statement.

A short while later, Brett called in a bull elk to the area right below our look-out. I do not know how I mustered up the courage, but I ended up shooting from that precarious perch. One of Brett’s admonitions to his hunters is, “Shoot straight or shoot often.” I have always shot straight before, but somehow from this height, it took me four shots to kill the elk. Fortunately for me, the sound was carrying strangely in the canyon so the elk did not even realize he was being shot at. Now the adventure began!

To say that the location of my elk after I shot it was in a very difficult location to get to would be the understatement of my lifetime. We had to descend somewhere close to 1,000 feet down a chute in the cliff side. The top half was very technical, requiring four points of contact (hands and feet) to help lower ourselves down this chute. We were essentially mountaineering without the proper equipment. Keep in mind that this harrowing descent came after we had already exhausted ourselves checking out other locations and then resigning ourselves to this location. I am a runner. I have completed two marathons (just six minutes off qualifying for the Boston marathon) and several half-marathons in the past five years, so I know when my tank is on empty. I had no idea how this mountain man/cowboy could do this every day all season. I knew I was already pushed physically, and I knew we still had to get back up to where we started. We made it down the chute, both of us assisting each other at some points. All we were carrying was our knives and license.

Brett gutted the elk, and I realized with dread that we were ready to return from whence we came. My excitement was upstaged by apprehension and concern for my well-being, but I knew there was no other choice but to ascend back through the chute we came down. Brett assured me that you can climb more severe terrain than you can descend. In other words, if you can get down. you can get back up, but not vice versa. As we climbed I inconveniently remembered something I have told my wife and family for many years…..I do not want to die in a car accident or in a hospital. I want to die falling off a cliff or down the side of a mountain or at the paws of a grizzly while I’m out hunting. Granted those might not be peaceful ways to go, but they would be natural.. As those thoughts popped into my head at a time where this could certainly occur. I made a mental note to reconsider that wish if I made it out of this alive. We made it out somehow, but it occurred to me you have to be careful what you wish for!

I am sure Brett could see that my sense of adventure was waning, so apparently he decided to make some small talk. As we were taking a breather and planning our ascent through a difficult spot, Brett thought it appropriate to ask me if I had seen a television show where a father and his son and daughter were rock climbing in Arizona and had a mishap. The father ended up cutting his rope and falling to his death to save the life of his children. I couldn’t help but think that this was hardly the appropriate time to discuss that show or any related theme, but it did give me an uncomfortable glimpse into what was going through Brett’s mind.

After we made it down and back up, we prepared for our return to the horses, a long and difficult trip walking on the side of a hill with loose shale and wet grass. Brett was well ahead of me looking like he was just getting warmed-up, while my tank was on empty. I thought to myself what an awesome gift Brett had just given me. Sure I paid him for this, but I don’t think what I just went through is provided in most elk hunts. The effort Brett put into this was amazing from getting me to the location, bugling the elk in, coaching me through shooting it, and then the descent/gut elk/ascent/return to the horses is an experience I do not think is possible to top. For me, it is an experience I will remember and share for the rest of my life. For Brett, it was just another “day at the office”.

As a physician, I am reminded from time to time of my ability to have a significant life-changing impact on the lives of others. What is routine for me in my daily life may be life-changing/life-saving for my patient. Brett impacted my life in a significant way, and I hope he realizes this and keeps that in perspective every time he guides a hunter. I decided to share a quote from T.S. Eliot that I had learned a couple weeks ago with Brett: “Only those who risk going too far will possibly find out how far one can go.” I found that out on September 16, 2011!

 

 

 

 

Shoot Straight or Shoot Often

 

This story was written by Hank Newburn who hunted with K Lazy Three Outfitters in September of 2011 and it appeared in the Big Timber Pioneer and the Agi-News newspaper.The story as presented here is exactly as it was written.

 

On the second morning of our early season elk hunt in the Scapegoat Wilderness, I was awakened shortly after 3:00 A.M. by Brett Todd, the owner of K Lazy 3 Outfitters. There was a bit of moonlight lighting the trail for our 2 1/2 hour ride to exactly where Brett wanted to be when daylight finally arrived. If you have never ridden a horse for several hours on a dark mountain trail, it is a trust exercise that everyone should experience.

 

Later in the day, Brett and I were overlooking a wooded area from a vista that was so amazing I cannot describe it. I took pictures, but the pictures don’t really show the magnificence of the view. Brett was perched like an eagle out on a rocky point. He pointed out a shelf to our right where he had once had a hunter who disappointed him when he wasn’t able to get close enough to the edge to take a shot at a bull elk below. I told him I could shoot from that shelf but not from where Brett currently was perched. I am somewhat afraid of heights, but it never occurred to me that I might have to follow through on that statement.

 

A short while later, Brett called in a bull elk to the area right below our look-out. I do not know how I mustered up the courage, but I ended up shooting from that precarious perch. One of Brett’s admonitions to his hunters is, “Shoot straight or shoot often.” I have always shot straight before, but somehow from this height, it took me four shots to kill the elk. Fortunately for me, the sound was carrying strangely in the canyon so the elk did not even realize he was being shot at. Now the adventure began!

 

To say that the location of my elk after I shot it was in a very difficult location to get to would be the understatement of my lifetime. We had to descend somewhere close to 1,000 feet down a chute in the cliff side. The top half was very technical, requiring four points of contact (hands and feet) to help lower ourselves down this chute. We were essentially mountaineering without the proper equipment. Keep in mind that this harrowing descent came after we had already exhausted ourselves checking out other locations and then resigning ourselves to this location. I am a runner. I have completed two marathons (just six minutes off qualifying for the Boston marathon) and several half-marathons in the past five years, so I know when my tank is on empty. I had no idea how this mountain man/cowboy could do this every day all season. I knew I was already pushed physically, and I knew we still had to get back up to where we started. We made it down the chute, both of us assisting each other at some points. All we were carrying was our knives and license.

 

Brett gutted the elk, and I realized with dread that we were ready to return from whence we came. My excitement was upstaged by apprehension and concern for my well-being, but I knew there was no other choice but to ascend back through the chute we came down. Brett assured me that you can climb more severe terrain than you can descend. In other words, if you can get down. you can get back up, but not vice versa. As we climbed I inconveniently remembered something I have told my wife and family for many years…..I do not want to die in a car accident or in a hospital. I want to die falling off a cliff or down the side of a mountain or at the paws of a grizzly while I’m out hunting. Granted those might not be peaceful ways to go, but they would be natural.. As those thoughts popped into my head at a time where this could certainly occur. I made a mental note to reconsider that wish if I made it out of this alive. We made it out somehow, but it occurred to me you have to be careful what you wish for!

 

I am sure Brett could see that my sense of adventure was waning, so apparently he decided to make some small talk. As we were taking a breather and planning our ascent through a difficult spot, Brett thought it appropriate to ask me if I had seen a television show where a father and his son and daughter were rock climbing in Arizona and had a mishap. The father ended up cutting his rope and falling to his death to save the life of his children. I couldn’t help but think that this was hardly the appropriate time to discuss that show or any related theme, but it did give me an uncomfortable glimpse into what was going through Brett’s mind.

 

After we made it down and back up, we prepared for our return to the horses, a long and difficult trip walking on the side of a hill with loose shale and wet grass. Brett was well ahead of me looking like he was just getting warmed-up, while my tank was on empty. I thought to myself what an awesome gift Brett had just given me. Sure I paid him for this, but I don’t think what I just went through is provided in most elk hunts. The effort Brett put into this was amazing from getting me to the location, bugling the elk in, coaching me through shooting it, and then the descent/gut elk/ascent/return to the horses is an experience I do not think is possible to top. For me, it is an experience I will remember and share for the rest of my life. For Brett, it was just another “day at the office”.

 

As a physician, I am reminded from time to time of my ability to have a significant life-changing impact on the lives of others. What is routine for me in my daily life may be life-changing/life-saving for my patient. Brett impacted my life in a significant way, and I hope he realizes this and keeps that in perspective every time he guides a hunter. I decided to share a quote from T.S. Eliot that I had learned a couple weeks ago with Brett: “Only those who risk going too far will possibly find out how far one can go.” I found that out on September 16, 2011!

 

Author Hank Newburn

 

“Finding ones mental and physical limit is truly a gift, a treasure that feeds the sole. An event that heightens ones self awareness and enhances ones self image.”