Alright guys, sorry this has been such a long read...
After harvesting my doe, I was pretty much tapped out due to the long drive, a less than full night of sleep, packing out meat, etc. As such, I was content to head back to town to check in with the wifey and reload on some ice. Before I left home I struck a deal with my wife that we'd communicate on an at least a 24hr schedule. I told her it would be like SERE school---she'd be like the satellite and you gotta communicate when the satellite comes around every 24 hours, haha. Anyways, it was time to call and check in so I did. I drove the 45mins back to where I was camping, set up camp, gathered wood, and settled in for the night. I slept like a baby that night, but the dang Canada geese were migrating all night and I kept having dreams I was goose hunting. I guess there are worse things to dream about.
Sunday morning found me up at about 0500 again, breaking down camp, warming up a meal, and making coffee. I decided I'd stick to the same tract of BLM that I'd hunted the day before since I was seeing a lot of 'lopes and I didn't have any kind of goals as far as "inches" for a buck. I set out around 0600 and waffled a bit on where I wanted to walk into. The day prior, I'd asked a certain landowner for permission to trespass across about 300yds of their land, but she told me that her son-in-law "handled all the hunting." We talked for about an hour about life, family, and this and that-- I really enjoyed that. Turns out her SIL was a pilot and I think it was he that did some "low passes" over my camp around dusk on Sat night in his SuperCub. I never did get to catch up with him, but maybe next year.
Anyways, I'd seen two VERY nice bucks Saturday afternoon just bedded down, watching the wind blow on BLM, but it was landlocked and I couldn't get to them unless I hiked about 4 miles one way. I decided not to push it, being I have a trick back and I never know when it's going to let me down it seems. So, I continued driving along some two tracks and found the same 2 small bucks I'd stalked the day prior. I eventually saw what was making them so skittish, if you want to say that, and found a more dominant buck working a herd of about 10 does off in the distance. His location was nearly the same area the larger buck had been shot by the guy from NC the day prior.
Again, I watched them for an hour or so as there was no pressure and no hunters that I could see. He put on quit a show everytime the two smaller bucks would get close. He'd paw at the ground, squat, pee, rub his neck glands on sage brush, etc. I really enjoyed watching these beautiful animals interact in their native environs. After awhile, I figured I'd put a stalk on the group of does and take another since I still had 2 doe tags left. I was indifferent about taking the buck at this point.
I drove to a spot, reorganized my Mystery Ranch pack, and set out. I played the "bounce antelope from ridge to ridge, circle downwind, bounce them back the other way, etc" game all morning until about 1100. All the while there was the single buck, and by this time 6 does and 3 fawns. I lost one somewhere along the way. I think this would later come back to bite me in the a$$.
Around 1100 they made the critical error of heading dead upwind and over a ridge. I dropped everything and hauled the mail in their direction. I closed the distance in about 20 minutes and when I peered over the ridge they were anywhere from 200-300yds distant. The buck was at 224yds. I looked at him through my binoculars and he seemed a good "first buck." Again, I was up there alone, I have a pregnant wife, and two boys back home...so I wasn't going to be very picky and if I could finish early and head back I would. Well, I decided that this was "the" buck. He stopped at about 265yds. Same song, second verse I told myself. I'd been watching him all morning so I didn't feel like I needed to drag it out any more this time. I racked a live round in the chamber, assumed the sitting position, and fired. He was dead right there. The group of does took off and made a wide circle going as far away as 400yds and as close as 125yds. Finally, they stopped at about 325yds so I figured I'd take a doe.
In hindsight, when it's 75 degrees, 1 pronghorn at a time is plenty, but like they say hindsight is 20/20...
Well, I picked out a doe in my binos, it was the one furthest to the left with her head down. I got in the sitting position again, got a good rest, but then remembered I didn't rack the empty out. So, I broke my concentration, racked a live round in, and sighted back in on the feeding animal with its head down.
This is where the big life lesson comes into play.
I fired, the animal dropped.
Great I thought, time to get to work.
So I walked up on my buck, validated my tag and notched my coupon. I snapped a quick pick of it as it lay before moving on to tag the next animal.
From there it was about another 100yds to my "doe." Yeah, ya'll can see where this is going...
As I walked up on the animal, the hair on the back of my neck started standing up. As I drew closer, I saw what I thought was something on the head. "Please, Lord, let that be a sage brush bush behind the head, please!"
Well, I won't drag it out or get dramatic.
I shot a small buck whose horns were about 1/2 the length of his ears. This is where a life of solid upbringing, lessons learned in school, church, the 'Corps, etc prepared me to do the right thing.
Immediately I knew I'd screwed up BIG. Not a small deal here, big deal! My mind raced and I felt sick to my stomach. I actually looked behind me, as if I was checking to see if someone had seen my transgression. I'm not trying to be dramatic here, as I have a diagnosed anxiety disorder stemming from who knows what, but I started having a full on anxiety attack. I couldn't believe what was happening. How did I do this? Dammit!
Do I just get the hell out of there?
Do I call it in and potentially lose everything?
I'd put a lot in A LOT of work to make this trip happen. Not just monetarily, but I was burning 10 days of leave, etc. All of these emotions occurred in less that 30 seconds. I shook my head, took a deep breath, and knew what I had to do..."I gotta get to somewhere with cell phone service and report myself," I said to myself. I didn't know what to do with the small buck, so I quickly skinned and quartered my buck and got it on ice. I was so mad at myself I didn't get a picture of me with my legal buck. I felt like I didn't deserve it. I was almost ashamed of it, like it was a symbol of how I'd failed to verify my target before pulling the trigger. A complete rookie mistake. "I'm better than that!" At least that's what I told myself. The animal roughly 100yds away begged to differ.
Here's where I learned another lesson. Even when you screw up, the Game Wardens generally don't want to see meat go to waste. I didn't know that, I didn't even want to touch the small buck because in my mind it was a dang crime scene.
So, I hauled my way back to town and had over an hour to think about my mistake. I eventually got in touch with the game warden and we agreed on a place to meet, but he wanted me to go back and get the meat. I made my way all the way back to the downed buck, skinned it out, quartered, and packed it back to my truck and got it on ice.
I made my way back out to the county road at about the same time the warden was rolling up. Here's another lesson. He already knew I'd screwed up, I knew I'd screwed up. I didn't make excuses, I told him what I did. He said he appreciated my honesty and that I was an exception to most of what he sees. He checked my licenses, obviously everything else checked out, and did his due diligence with regard to all other things under his purview.
After talking for awhile he made his decisions on what to do with me and the game. He cited me with a warning for wrongful take, took a doe tag from me, and made sure I knew what I'd done wrong We went over some ways to avoid these types of mistakes in the future. I'm not going to lie, even with a warning, I didn't feel any better about what I'd done. He was professional and courteous and for that I'm very thankful; but, by that point my "fun meter was pegged."
I decided that even though I still had a doe tag left and plenty of time, I was done hunting. I made my way to Gillette, WY for the night. As I drove back I thought about all the lessons I'd learned, not just the one involving the GW. I found it very ironic, and oddly soothing, that there was a heck of a thunderstorm in Gillette when I rolled in. It washed my truck clean. I couldn't help but notice the irony--just like the rain was washing away the grime of the world, doing the ethical and right thing with respect to illegal take allowed me to lay down my regrets and anxieties of the day. I'd sleep good that night...
I made it back to SoCal in 2 days of driving and I already miss WY.
Thanks for following along, I hope maybe someone learned something from my mistake.
