TransplantHunter
Active member
2025 is going to be MY year!
Over the last handful of years, pronghorn hunting has become a family affair and one centered around my wife - the usual tag holder. 2024 was a special year because my wife had a doe tag and I was able to pull a buck tag with 5 preference points for the area around Kremmling, CO. Well, me being the gentleman, I got her on to a doe opening day (even with a buck in the herd) and she was able to fill her tag the way that she always does. Unfortunately, I spent the next several days watching a buck that would come close to public but he never would commit. 2024 turned out to be great for my wife but disappointing for me.
2025 comes around and my wife told me to just get a doe tag and get that 'monkey off my back'. Well, we both applied but I was the one lucky enough to draw. Back up to Kremmling we go with the goal for me to finally connect on a pronghorn.
The day before the season, I towed our trailer up to an RV campground in town and got everything set up and ready to go. I will be solo for opening day because the kids are both in travel soccer and wanted to get to their games. My wife was going to bring them up after the games. After the trailer was all set up, I went out for an afternoon scout and was able to locate a few different groups of pronghorn in a few different areas. However, I know that this area doesn't have a ton of public land where the pronghorn are - so we will have to play the game against other hunters.
Opening day - I go out into a small patch of BLM that we have had a lot of success on in the past. As I sit on a little hillside, I watched a couple of pronghorn enter the public lands that I am watching all by myself. Wouldn't you know it, every animal that I saw that morning was a buck. Go figure. After quite a while, I decide to drive around the unit to see what is going on. I find a few more herds on private and a TON of other hunters. Looks like they gave out more tags this year.
I went back to the trailer, had lunch, and decide to go back out to the BLM that is behind the trailer and cruise those roads. I am about 1/3rd of the way through that territory when a storm rolls in and starts dumping rain and hail all over the place. The road went from drivable to a muddy mess in about 3 minutes. I am in a real bad situation as the mud cakes on to the tires and since I am not driving fast, the mud doesn't fling off. I am now at the mercy of the grade of the road. I somehow limped to the bottom of a hill and decide to park at a pull-off to ride this rainout. After maybe 30 minutes, another truck drives down the road and I get out to watch how he navigates the terrain ahead of us. He makes short work out of it so I decide to give it a try. The uphill sections were easy - the downhill sections SUCKED. I have never had my speedometer read zero while my truck was still moving so fast outside of winter. After about 2 hours, I was able to get the truck back out to the main road and to safety. I decided that I wanted to go back to the trailer, cook dinner, and wait for my family. After dinner, my wife and I went back out and find where the animals are hanging out. We located some and make a game plan for the morning. I am feeling better already!
Day 2, Sunday, we get up and head back out to the place that we have had success in the past. My wife affectionately named it 'Death Valley' so I will henceforth call it as such - or abbreviate it 'DV'. We park the truck and glass the hills on either side of DV and locate the herd from the night before slowly making their way from private onto public. We get geared up and start making our way up DV and get a hill between us and the herd. Out of sight, out of mind. We move up the valley and at the appropriate point in the valley, we climb the hill that is between us and the herd. We made our way to the top, start to look over the side, and locate the herd - exactly where we want them. Unfortunately, there was a pair of hunters that saw us and decided to lurk behind us and further away from the road. I was between them and the herd, but still felt pressured that they were going to try and sneak a shot in. I belly crawled up, got on my rifle, and ranged the group at 250 yards. I dialed my scope to the correct setting, waited for a doe to break from the group, and took a shot.
The herd stood still for a while but I tried my best to keep an eye on the doe I shot at. After a few minutes, they all start to climb back out of the valley they were in and back into private. I decide to try and get another round in her so I got on the rifle again, steadied, and took another shot. Again, the herd stood still but then after a minute, they all walked off onto private. I stayed on my glass looking for a dead pronghorn. As I scanned, I didn't see anything so I watched the herd leave. None were limping. None were bloody. None were having any trouble at all.
Well - $hit.
My wife and I go down into the valley where I shot and looked for evidence - not finding any. My mind races and I try to think back to the shot. Did I jerk? Did I get the right range? Did I dial my rifle to the right setting? Now I am depressed - can't hit a pronghorn at 250 yards...
We left and went back to the trailer for late breakfast and come up with a gameplan. We went back out to the same valley late morning with the idea of bringing the spotter and looking for a dead doe on the hillside. We approached the hill where I had shot from earlier, looked over into the valley for any strays and saw nothing. As my wife was walking back towards me at the top of the hill, I spot a group of 3 does walking towards us. Excited again, I got set up on my rifle and waited for them to come into range. Just as they crossed the boundary onto public, I ranged them at 250 yards. Redemption for earlier! I triple checked everything this time and got relaxed. I slowly squeezed the trigger and felt a good break. I watched my target doe look around and then ... walk off. Back onto private.
What that actual @!$!@$##
My wife tells me to shoot a rock that is down in the valley that is very easy to identify. Nothing is around now so whatever - send it. The rock is 330 yards away so I dial my rifle to the right setting and ask my wife if she has the rock in the spotter. She does so I send the first round. "You're left - a lot". I adjust and shoot again. "Still left". More adjusting and a few rounds later, I had adjusted 8 MOA. A little over 24 inches. Well, That explains a lot. At least I know it isn't me - the rifle is off.
We go back to the trailer and hang out for a bit. My wife is about to take the kids back home - school the next day, so I play some board games with them, have dinner, and get them on the road. After they left, I decide to go back out and sit in the same valley for sunset. Nothing shows up so I go back to the trailer - optimistic for Monday.
Over the last handful of years, pronghorn hunting has become a family affair and one centered around my wife - the usual tag holder. 2024 was a special year because my wife had a doe tag and I was able to pull a buck tag with 5 preference points for the area around Kremmling, CO. Well, me being the gentleman, I got her on to a doe opening day (even with a buck in the herd) and she was able to fill her tag the way that she always does. Unfortunately, I spent the next several days watching a buck that would come close to public but he never would commit. 2024 turned out to be great for my wife but disappointing for me.
2025 comes around and my wife told me to just get a doe tag and get that 'monkey off my back'. Well, we both applied but I was the one lucky enough to draw. Back up to Kremmling we go with the goal for me to finally connect on a pronghorn.
The day before the season, I towed our trailer up to an RV campground in town and got everything set up and ready to go. I will be solo for opening day because the kids are both in travel soccer and wanted to get to their games. My wife was going to bring them up after the games. After the trailer was all set up, I went out for an afternoon scout and was able to locate a few different groups of pronghorn in a few different areas. However, I know that this area doesn't have a ton of public land where the pronghorn are - so we will have to play the game against other hunters.
Opening day - I go out into a small patch of BLM that we have had a lot of success on in the past. As I sit on a little hillside, I watched a couple of pronghorn enter the public lands that I am watching all by myself. Wouldn't you know it, every animal that I saw that morning was a buck. Go figure. After quite a while, I decide to drive around the unit to see what is going on. I find a few more herds on private and a TON of other hunters. Looks like they gave out more tags this year.
I went back to the trailer, had lunch, and decide to go back out to the BLM that is behind the trailer and cruise those roads. I am about 1/3rd of the way through that territory when a storm rolls in and starts dumping rain and hail all over the place. The road went from drivable to a muddy mess in about 3 minutes. I am in a real bad situation as the mud cakes on to the tires and since I am not driving fast, the mud doesn't fling off. I am now at the mercy of the grade of the road. I somehow limped to the bottom of a hill and decide to park at a pull-off to ride this rainout. After maybe 30 minutes, another truck drives down the road and I get out to watch how he navigates the terrain ahead of us. He makes short work out of it so I decide to give it a try. The uphill sections were easy - the downhill sections SUCKED. I have never had my speedometer read zero while my truck was still moving so fast outside of winter. After about 2 hours, I was able to get the truck back out to the main road and to safety. I decided that I wanted to go back to the trailer, cook dinner, and wait for my family. After dinner, my wife and I went back out and find where the animals are hanging out. We located some and make a game plan for the morning. I am feeling better already!
Day 2, Sunday, we get up and head back out to the place that we have had success in the past. My wife affectionately named it 'Death Valley' so I will henceforth call it as such - or abbreviate it 'DV'. We park the truck and glass the hills on either side of DV and locate the herd from the night before slowly making their way from private onto public. We get geared up and start making our way up DV and get a hill between us and the herd. Out of sight, out of mind. We move up the valley and at the appropriate point in the valley, we climb the hill that is between us and the herd. We made our way to the top, start to look over the side, and locate the herd - exactly where we want them. Unfortunately, there was a pair of hunters that saw us and decided to lurk behind us and further away from the road. I was between them and the herd, but still felt pressured that they were going to try and sneak a shot in. I belly crawled up, got on my rifle, and ranged the group at 250 yards. I dialed my scope to the correct setting, waited for a doe to break from the group, and took a shot.
The herd stood still for a while but I tried my best to keep an eye on the doe I shot at. After a few minutes, they all start to climb back out of the valley they were in and back into private. I decide to try and get another round in her so I got on the rifle again, steadied, and took another shot. Again, the herd stood still but then after a minute, they all walked off onto private. I stayed on my glass looking for a dead pronghorn. As I scanned, I didn't see anything so I watched the herd leave. None were limping. None were bloody. None were having any trouble at all.
Well - $hit.
My wife and I go down into the valley where I shot and looked for evidence - not finding any. My mind races and I try to think back to the shot. Did I jerk? Did I get the right range? Did I dial my rifle to the right setting? Now I am depressed - can't hit a pronghorn at 250 yards...
We left and went back to the trailer for late breakfast and come up with a gameplan. We went back out to the same valley late morning with the idea of bringing the spotter and looking for a dead doe on the hillside. We approached the hill where I had shot from earlier, looked over into the valley for any strays and saw nothing. As my wife was walking back towards me at the top of the hill, I spot a group of 3 does walking towards us. Excited again, I got set up on my rifle and waited for them to come into range. Just as they crossed the boundary onto public, I ranged them at 250 yards. Redemption for earlier! I triple checked everything this time and got relaxed. I slowly squeezed the trigger and felt a good break. I watched my target doe look around and then ... walk off. Back onto private.
What that actual @!$!@$##
My wife tells me to shoot a rock that is down in the valley that is very easy to identify. Nothing is around now so whatever - send it. The rock is 330 yards away so I dial my rifle to the right setting and ask my wife if she has the rock in the spotter. She does so I send the first round. "You're left - a lot". I adjust and shoot again. "Still left". More adjusting and a few rounds later, I had adjusted 8 MOA. A little over 24 inches. Well, That explains a lot. At least I know it isn't me - the rifle is off.
We go back to the trailer and hang out for a bit. My wife is about to take the kids back home - school the next day, so I play some board games with them, have dinner, and get them on the road. After they left, I decide to go back out and sit in the same valley for sunset. Nothing shows up so I go back to the trailer - optimistic for Monday.
