You're in one of the finer hunting areas around. Though it wasn't a muzzleloader, I got in on the tail end of the most memorable traditional hunt I've ever heard of while driving through your state about 20 years back.
Way off in the hills and saw an elderly fellow standing by his truck looking pretty wrung out. Stopped to see if he needed a hand. He did:
He was 78 years old and decided it would be his last year hunting, and to honor his family and the hunting tradition he set out with the 1886 Winchester his daddy had bought new when his dad was a lad.
Proceeded to shoot the biggest mule deer I've ever seen in my life. Worked all day dragging it downhill to his truck, but simply couldn't get it loaded up. I helped, but even with two if us it was a grunt.
He got all teary eyed after he closed the tailgate, and I was right there too. A favorite memory of your state, even for a stranger.
