A few years back I was out for a ride with my cousin Butterhead to John Martin Creek. We were going to look for rabbits and maybe see some fur to shoot. Things were going good and the weather was nice so we took our time and enjoyed the day. As we pulled up to a good patch of willows I looked back and seen Butters taking his gun out to shoot some ptarmigan, I had no interest in birds that day so I took the opportunity to stop and pour some gas into my machine. Just before I stopped I noticed a quick flash of dark fur in the willows and just figured it was a moose, which were plentiful at the time. I could hear some shots as I emptied the jerry can and kept looking for the moose that I thought I had seen. As I raised my head again I nearly jumped out of my boots as a black wolf slowly walked out of the willow patch. I quickly put the can down, started the 550 and sped off to "position" myself for a shot. As I pulled up almost close enough to shoot I grabbed my gun which was in a case between my left leg and my seat, as I grabbed the gun, my 550 shut off. I could still hear shooting and I started yelling at the top of my lungs "FREDDY, WOLF! WOLF!" I heard his machine start and I knew he heard me well because he started up and pinned it to where I stood, cursing my machine for shutting off for no obvious reason. As Fred was getting closer I just pointed at the tracks and waved my arm for him to keep going after the wolf, which was now just cresting the hill. I continued cursing my machine as I started inspecting for what caused me to lose the wolf, but I was happy that my apprentice was hot on the tracks. The 550 could turn over, but still no life. I figured I would be getting towed home so I started getting things ready starting with putting my gun back in the case. The bottom of the gun case was sitting on the ground and as I lifted it, I seen something that made my heart start racing...the stupid key!! I guessed it fell out when I pulled my gun off! Within a minute I was back in the cha...er.."positioning process" and could see my young cousin right behind the wolf which didn't look right for some reason. I wanted that wolf too but since Freddy was already there I watched and decided if he missed once, the wolf was fair game. He missed an inch or two below the wolf as it ran down hill into a deep creek, I was young with less foresight so I took a chance and followed, finding a way down the steep creek. I pulled up and shot the big black with my 223 and waited for Butterhead to make his way down to me. Once he got there we looked the wolf over and it had some of the thickest hair I've ever seen, aaaaaaand a swollen face full of porcupine quills! Man did that ever look painful. His lips were swollen to at least 4 times what they should be and when skinning it out I ended up with a pretty big pile of quills. Another time I was heading home after a long day of looking for wolves and decided to follow a familiar ridge where I've seen wolves many times. At last light I noticed something out of place in the willow flat below me and even from a distance I could make out the big ears of a wolf, also a black. This one too looked out of the ordinary. I was still about 200 yards away from him and he took about 2-3 big leaps and then layed down. He did this a couple more times as I slowly pulled up and shot him with my 223. I was very happy to get him and as I checked him over I could see that all 4 feet were covered in a ball of ice! Skinning him out I found a few quills in the lips and face but what surprised me was the amount of quills in his ribs! They were starting to poke into his lungs and had a lot of blood jelly like a bloodshot animal would have. I just wanted to share that to show that animals have a lot worse ways to die than being shot or trapped and I felt like both were put out of their misery before they froze or starved to death. I'm positive the second wolf was going to die that night. I've got a lot of wolf stories and just wanted to give some reading material for your morning coffee.