PEAX Equipment

2021 Husband & Wife Wyoming Antelope Hunt

270.Rose

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Dec 12, 2020
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3:45am, September 15 Season Opening Day/my birthday
Woke up bubbling with excitement. Dragged very sleepy husband and surprisingly un-sleepy six, five and three year old sons out of bed. No the children never did go back to sleep! Snacking on chocolate brownies and lemon bars, we drove for a couple of hours and reached our unit at sunrise.
6:30am
Driving through the hills we spotted our first 'likely' bucks in the bottom of a good sized wash and scrambled out of the truck to set up the spotting scope. The kids drew maps in the dirt and begged for turns with the binoculars while we studied the GPS trying to decide if the antelope were safely within the public/private boundary. Deciding they were, my husband headed down the left side of a narrow hill hoping to head off the largest buck of the group, who was heading around the base of the hill from the right. Watching the main bunch from the top of the ridge, I hoped to hear a shot ring out but they started moving back to the right. Glassing the hill on the opposite side of the wash, the culprit turned out to be a good sized coyote. As the six year old philosophically phrased it heading back to the truck 'but you don't always have a shot, do you, Mom?'
............
 

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I made my way down the draw cursing myself for forgetting to put a sling on my rifle, I got to where I figured I might have a shot and cautiously poked my head up, the big buck that I wanted was 650 yards away across an open flat. I moved back up the draw and back to the truck.

8:00am
I spotted what I thought was a lone buck bedded 850 yards away, I pulled the truck around the side of the hill and out of sight and then headed out. I got to 400 yards but didn't want to try a shot in the strong wind so I had to back track and get around the other side of the hill. Remember when I said he was alone? I was wrong, he had a bunch of does and a young buck hanging on the fringes. As I got in close, the small buck blew me and I had to speed crawl to a point where I could get a shot. The bunch was spooked but not running scared so I got a quick range and when he gave me a quartering away shot at 289 yards I shot him. It was pretty cool, because of my muzzle break I actually seen him drop in the scope. The 160 grain Accubond did a number on him, he didn't even move when he hit the ground!
 

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8:45am
The children and I had stayed at the truck about a mile back from where the buck was bedded and they had a great time climbing on some of the rock formations beside the road, pretending they were Old West gunfighters rounding up all manner of villains. We heard the shot and I would like to say that we all hustled back to the truck to drive down to where we hoped to see a buck down....it was accomplished about as efficiently as a three year old can manage. The six and five year olds had brought along their little backpacks and were dead set on helping to pack, so we found a place to park in sight of the blaze orange dot up on the hill, got them set up with their packs, and started the 1000+ yard hike.
10am
With photos taken, quartering and skinning done, a detailed science lesson about hearts and lungs and other organs and their function completed, and packs loaded, we set off back to the truck. Mr 6 had the backstraps and tenderloins, and Mr 5 insisted on carrying the head in his pack. After a much appreciated cold bottle of water, it was time to load up and look for the opportunity to fill my tag.
 
11am
We didn't have to drive for very long before we spotted a nice buck bedded down in a hollow between two hills. I grabbed my rifle and pack and headed out on the other side of one of the hills hoping to come over it right above him and have an easy shot while my husband watched from the truck with the children. Another vehicle, driver decked in camo and orange, headed past, and within a few seconds I heard my husband call me back...the buck had decided to head over the hill.
12am
Someone (ahem) put his elbow on the insulated picnic bag with the lemon bars inside, but the rest of the food was intact and as much as I wanted to find my buck, it was also an experience that I didn't want to end too soon. Enjoying family time, teaching the kids about the outdoors, and exploring a new place was a fun time that I'm so glad we had.
12:30
High up on a ridge to the left, we spotted a good sized buck lying in the middle of a pile of rocks. So that he didn't get alarmed, we drove another mile down the road, planning in hushed whispers how I would take the GPS unit and work my way back along the ridge to a clump of scrubby pines that would give me a good spot to shoot from at about a 100yard range. As I piled out of the passenger seat, rangefinder in hand and grabbed my rifle, I looked off to my right and there was a buck only slightly smaller than the one I was planning to stalk, staring me down at 72 yards. He was only steps away from disappearing down into a wash and according to the GPS only steps away from a chunk of private land. In the split second while I agonized over whether I thought I could make a good enough shot to keep him from falling over onto the private, he disappeared over the hill. It's amazing how having children in the truck keeps you from saying the things you really want to say on such an occasion.
Sticking to the original plan, I headed along the ridge, keeping an eye on the GPS, and soon realized I had a problem. A corner of private land was set at an angle on the ridge, so to get a shot at the buck while still staying legal I had to drop down to my left, out into the open and in his field of view. He was squarely on public land but around the corner, and there was no way I could stay out of his sight as I balanced that little blinking arrow just on the yellow square as I walked downhill. The truck full of highly indignant family members pulled down the road to meet me, but in such situations the GPS is the final authority and we resigned ourselves to continuing.
 
1:45 pm
We found another buck lying in a bowl shaped hillside, but it didn't take long to figure out that he was in the same situation as the previous buck and I would have had to cross about 30 yards of private or else veer hard downhill and then back up again. With the game warden sitting on the road less than a mile away I didn't want any doubt on how I had accessed him, so I passed him up and we continued the search.
2:15 pm
We started to have the conversation about whether we were going to head back to town for fuel and decided to work our way back out of the unit, glassing as we went. We had almost reached the road that took us back to the highway when we saw a lone buck sitting at the top of a saddle between two hills. Not wanting to spook him, we kept driving until we got to a spot where I could get out and slip up the back side of the hill.
The wind was howling as I headed up the hill. Even with my ponytail pulled through the back and the strap tightened, it still caught my hat and flipped it back on my head. When I crested the hill, I finally saw the horns of the buck about 40 yards away. He was lying down facing away from me, slightly downhill, and if I stood up I could see him cleanly, but the strength of the wind was pushing my rifle sideways as I tried to aim. I tried a few times to find a steady position to shoot from, but he blew me and headed down the hill directly away from me as I scrambled to find a rock I could prop my pack on to take a steadier prone shot. He was running on three legs, with the right front held way out to the side, and I had a rush of anger and disappointment as I realized that someone had already shot him. I felt obligated to get the shot to put an injured animal out of his misery, leaving him didn't feel like an ethical option. He paused at a 3/4 angle at about 200 yards, but with the gusting wind, adrenaline, and a steep downhill angle I saw my bullet kick up dust a foot to the right and he kept running.
My husband had turned the truck around and was driving down the road to meet me as I hustled back down the hill the way I had come. We pulled a few hundred yards down the road and saw the buck, paused in the hollow below the hill and poised to run again. I hauled my pack and rifle out and dove towards a pile of rocks, trying to get set up for the shot as fast as I could. "Shoot! Shoot! He's going to run again!" came from behind me right as the buck ran. He paused again and I shot. As I worked the bolt, I heard "he's down! You got him!" We ranged the shot at 281 yards. When I walked up to him I found his right front foot shot almost to pieces below the ankle joint. The wound was still fresh, it must have happened around noon or so.
The boys were tired by this point but still jumped into action to help with the meat and ask lots of questions. And they insisted on doing their bit to pack back to the truck, so they loaded up their packs, and we headed out, very thankful for the meat and for the great memories.
 

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I love following along on the hunts where the kids (young or old) are out hunting with their parents. That is how I started, and it is refreshing to see you guys teaching by example.
 
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