Hercules-Barrick

Ventured over for a hunt on what used to be one of my favorite spots in Hells Canyon.

We waited until the Hercules-Barrick “exploration” mining operation shut down for “winter weather.” The last two years, the one time each season we’d hunted over there was interrupted by run-ins with mining operations. All this on public land, land we pay taxes every year to maintain. Land that was given to Idaho specifically for wintering ground for deer and elk. Land that many people I know feed their families from the big and small game harvested from that public land. Land that ranchers I know used to run their cattle on in the summer. Land that is now torn up by new roads and heavy equipment.

Up high, where no motorized vehicles can go (or haven’t gone yet), we saw lots of birds and big game prints. Down low, where it’s pretty easy to get to, not so much.

Down lower, the signs. Of things to come, no doubt.

It’s worse than sad to see something you love destroyed, and then to be charged for it, and then to be told to stay off of it. Idaho needs to re-work its ancient mining laws: if mining operations close or inhibit access to public lands, taxes should be reduced accordingly, even if it’s only a few cents. Remember the Boston Tea Party? Judy Boyle is not my representative. And Chris Paul, CEO of Hercules, is a Canadian whose business Canada has banned from doing things in his own country for numerous environmental and human rights violations. If they get their way, Barrick, an even more vile non-U.S. offender, will buy the operation and staff it with Peruvians. The local community won’t see a penny. And all this waiting for the deportation shoe to drop with the incoming “administration.”

We hiked out on Camp Creek, a road that used to be an old two-track terminating at a locked gate on Highway 71, one of the few non-motorized access points to the north end of the Andrus WMA. Now it’s a freeway for heavy equipment, with numerous drill pads excavated along the road. I used to finish great hunts reflecting on life and hunting and connections while walking down this road, and occasionally get interrupted by pointing dogs or busting coveys, bonuses reserved for epic days in the field. Now, it’s just anger, sadness, and maybe a few less savory thoughts.