Bullshot
Well-known member
Back home after a swing through WY to fill two doe tags (after an exciting at times but ultimately unsuccessful CO elk hunt). It wasn’t exactly the breezy conclusion to my western trip I had expected and I have some mixed feelings.
I had two tags, one down south and one more central. I first tried the southern unit, which was a Type 7 that limited my huntable area. Adequate BLM but very few lopes on it (and those mostly solo bucks). Lots were seen on adjacent private, along with 200 head of elk on an irrigated field. I decided to try the central unit and come back later if time allowed.
I drove up at night and passed through Medicine bow on the way before realizing I needed gas. It was late and only gas would be 90 miles north or so, so I swung back to the town on way to nearest gas which might still be 20 miles away (if open). I learned that the 70 mph to 30 mph speed trap is not to be trifled with. The Marshall was nice. Use the money well, Medicine Bow. Gas station in MB was also out of gas.
After exploring an addition 50 miles of dark WY highway, finally got gas and headed back to MB for the 3rd time (slowly). Whew, no further tickets.
Got to my area later that night, slept on some BLM awaiting dawn, at which time I went out, immediately seeing more antelope as hoped. Put on one failed stalk, then back to the truck. Drove a few miles, glassed some heads poking up above some gullies a mile or so out and put on stalk #2. I got busted about 3/4 of the way there but the terrain was undulating, giving me a second chance to pursue while the herd calmed down. I crested another ripple in the terrain to find them about 370 yards out, not trivial given my skills, but there was no wind to speak of. I held a bit over the back on solitary doe and let one go. All I saw was running antelope but I heard the delayed “whap!” of a hit. I couln’t see anything down but marked the angle and set that way. After cresting another small rise, there she was, a perfect hit behind the shoulder with no meat loss. Returned to the truck for my pack, got back, got to work, and had the meat on ice at 10 am. A pleasant and easy hunt!
I immediatley set back to the south to the Type 7 tag and was able to grab a delicious burger in Saratoga at the sandwhich shop on the way. I think it was called the Max (the burger that is). Mmmmmm.
After arriving back to the unit, I began scouring the BLM. Pretty vacant. I finally found a seemingly lone doe after leaving the truck and peering down behind a hidden slope. She was walking away from me but didn’t see me. I ran back to the truck to grab my rifle, and set off walking on an intersecting course about 1/4 mile ahead where I hoped I could get close enough for a shot. As I crested the last ridge before that point, she busted me, but then also spooked a buck and two fawns I had not seen earlier. They ran up a ridge and paused, I had to quickly figure the distance and wind, which I estimated at 250 and about 20 from the left. I aimed a tad high and a little left and shot. The whole little herd took off but I still heard a solid “whap!” of a hit. the doe was in the lead, running like hellfire and a bit erratically, until they crested a ridge 700 yards out that I marked. I still felt optimistic I would find her on the other side.
I stalked over to the last sighting and peeked over. The buck was there, and two fawns were bedded, but no doe. The other 3 ran off alone. I was sure my doe was down in the sage. I walked and searched and glassed and walked and searched some more. Nothing. Ah crap, WTH?? I backtracked every possible way she could have ran once out of view, still nothing. I finally returned to the truck to start searching a wider radius to every nearby overlook and ravine. At this point, I was just hoping for an assist from a magpie, raven or eagle. No luck. Finally, I went and peeked over one last knob overlooking a private corner and a doe jumped up on the wrong side of the fence about 100 yards out. It was her. She had a wound high on her back. I could have ended it right there but not legally. This was tough! She started running along the fence and I watched her cross back into BlM about an1/4 mile up. Cat and mouse game commenced. I would locate her, get in range, have to pause to confirm with binos it was indeed her (from the wound) and ONX the ownership, and in that time, she would bolt again, either onto private or further down the line on BLM. Several times this happened. Several double backs occurred. I was amazed that I kept finding her, but each time, that bino delay and ONX check got me. It was several hours of this. Finally she took a dash deep into BLM and that was the last I saw of her. The whole time, she was wily, alert, and fast on her feet. It was obvious though that she would have preferred I left her alone so she could bed. The wound seemed to be in the nape of her neck on the left side exiting to a longer raking wound on the right, above her spine. I overestimated the shot distance and underestimated the wind. I am hopeful it is recoverable, but don’t know, it was a bloody wound. Her strength and stamina give me hope, but I feel terrible. I packed up and headed back east even though I had another full day to hunt, with the unfilled tag as my reminder of the consequences of a bad shot.
Thanks Wyoming for the opportunities at great memories, the only times it went wrong was where I screwed up. I’ll hopefully be back soon someday to do better. Til then…
I had two tags, one down south and one more central. I first tried the southern unit, which was a Type 7 that limited my huntable area. Adequate BLM but very few lopes on it (and those mostly solo bucks). Lots were seen on adjacent private, along with 200 head of elk on an irrigated field. I decided to try the central unit and come back later if time allowed.
I drove up at night and passed through Medicine bow on the way before realizing I needed gas. It was late and only gas would be 90 miles north or so, so I swung back to the town on way to nearest gas which might still be 20 miles away (if open). I learned that the 70 mph to 30 mph speed trap is not to be trifled with. The Marshall was nice. Use the money well, Medicine Bow. Gas station in MB was also out of gas.
After exploring an addition 50 miles of dark WY highway, finally got gas and headed back to MB for the 3rd time (slowly). Whew, no further tickets.
Got to my area later that night, slept on some BLM awaiting dawn, at which time I went out, immediately seeing more antelope as hoped. Put on one failed stalk, then back to the truck. Drove a few miles, glassed some heads poking up above some gullies a mile or so out and put on stalk #2. I got busted about 3/4 of the way there but the terrain was undulating, giving me a second chance to pursue while the herd calmed down. I crested another ripple in the terrain to find them about 370 yards out, not trivial given my skills, but there was no wind to speak of. I held a bit over the back on solitary doe and let one go. All I saw was running antelope but I heard the delayed “whap!” of a hit. I couln’t see anything down but marked the angle and set that way. After cresting another small rise, there she was, a perfect hit behind the shoulder with no meat loss. Returned to the truck for my pack, got back, got to work, and had the meat on ice at 10 am. A pleasant and easy hunt!
I immediatley set back to the south to the Type 7 tag and was able to grab a delicious burger in Saratoga at the sandwhich shop on the way. I think it was called the Max (the burger that is). Mmmmmm.
After arriving back to the unit, I began scouring the BLM. Pretty vacant. I finally found a seemingly lone doe after leaving the truck and peering down behind a hidden slope. She was walking away from me but didn’t see me. I ran back to the truck to grab my rifle, and set off walking on an intersecting course about 1/4 mile ahead where I hoped I could get close enough for a shot. As I crested the last ridge before that point, she busted me, but then also spooked a buck and two fawns I had not seen earlier. They ran up a ridge and paused, I had to quickly figure the distance and wind, which I estimated at 250 and about 20 from the left. I aimed a tad high and a little left and shot. The whole little herd took off but I still heard a solid “whap!” of a hit. the doe was in the lead, running like hellfire and a bit erratically, until they crested a ridge 700 yards out that I marked. I still felt optimistic I would find her on the other side.
I stalked over to the last sighting and peeked over. The buck was there, and two fawns were bedded, but no doe. The other 3 ran off alone. I was sure my doe was down in the sage. I walked and searched and glassed and walked and searched some more. Nothing. Ah crap, WTH?? I backtracked every possible way she could have ran once out of view, still nothing. I finally returned to the truck to start searching a wider radius to every nearby overlook and ravine. At this point, I was just hoping for an assist from a magpie, raven or eagle. No luck. Finally, I went and peeked over one last knob overlooking a private corner and a doe jumped up on the wrong side of the fence about 100 yards out. It was her. She had a wound high on her back. I could have ended it right there but not legally. This was tough! She started running along the fence and I watched her cross back into BlM about an1/4 mile up. Cat and mouse game commenced. I would locate her, get in range, have to pause to confirm with binos it was indeed her (from the wound) and ONX the ownership, and in that time, she would bolt again, either onto private or further down the line on BLM. Several times this happened. Several double backs occurred. I was amazed that I kept finding her, but each time, that bino delay and ONX check got me. It was several hours of this. Finally she took a dash deep into BLM and that was the last I saw of her. The whole time, she was wily, alert, and fast on her feet. It was obvious though that she would have preferred I left her alone so she could bed. The wound seemed to be in the nape of her neck on the left side exiting to a longer raking wound on the right, above her spine. I overestimated the shot distance and underestimated the wind. I am hopeful it is recoverable, but don’t know, it was a bloody wound. Her strength and stamina give me hope, but I feel terrible. I packed up and headed back east even though I had another full day to hunt, with the unfilled tag as my reminder of the consequences of a bad shot.
Thanks Wyoming for the opportunities at great memories, the only times it went wrong was where I screwed up. I’ll hopefully be back soon someday to do better. Til then…
