270.Rose
Well-known member
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2020
- Messages
- 273
We had a special hunt this year and I wanted to share it as a shout out to my sons. They have been hunting with us since they were three, and they are 8, 10, and 11 now, so they are well versed in hiking without complaining and sitting quietly. Usually we go out as a family, but my husband's long-awaited elk tag had the same opening day as my antelope tag, so he was gone up the mountain on a very good cause! He had the truck, so I sallied out with my trusty little RAV4 and apologized to the vehicle in advance for the roads I intended to drive it on.
It was a busy opening morning since my mule deer tag was the first priority to fill, and I was so pleased that the boys didn't gripe at all about getting up at four in the morning. With a special buck hanging in the garage by lunch time, perfect weather at a nice 70 degrees, and the snack collection reinforced, we headed back out. There were vehicles parked at every possible spot where a road touched public land, so by the time we found somewhere that wasn't crowded it was getting later in the afternoon and the wind was kicking up. The boys kitted themselves out with binoculars and backpacks and we hiked on in. We had to go about a mile by the GPS before we found antelope, a small bunch of spooky does in the bottom of a wash, and a couple of golden backs just barely visible up a ridge. I was so pleased with the boys that we managed to stalk in to 130 yards on the ridge antelope, but finding just a doe and her fawn I didn't want to punch a type 1 tag and we retreated.
Over the weekend we went back out to a favorite spot and we saw antelope but got very sidetracked watching a bull elk who clearly knew the exact boundary of public and private land and walked in a neat and tidy pattern back and forth three hundred yards over the border. Oh well. At least we got the thrill of elk bugling!
Monday morning saw us bouncing over the ruts in the road with other drivers' headlights in my rearview mirror, hoping to be the first ones to my favorite parking spot. We had the spotting scope and a plan that required hiking in two miles in the dark to get close to water by first light. Aside from the occasional hushed whisper of 'are you sure you know where you're going?' the boys didn't complain once and they had fun taking turns carrying the GPS with the screen brightness turned down. We took a moment about half way in to pause and spot constellations while the stars were still visible and I thought to myself that even if we didn't see a single antelope, the experience with my children was worth the effort of getting up early and driving out.
We made it to the spot I wanted to sit at just as the sunrise was beginning to show gold over the horizon. There was a nice rock big enough for us to hunker down behind it, and my oldest son set up the spotting scope. The other two boys pulled their jackets up over their heads, announced that they were tired, and decided to take catnaps. Of course the naps got interrupted for snacking, but that's the way it goes with hunting.
There is something so special about watching the sun's rays advance steadily over the landscape and seeing the wildlife wake up, stretch, and start their day. I love how you can be looking directly at a spot that seems completely empty, and the next moment a doe is standing there with her fawn just looking around, and then they stroll off to browse.
Far down the valley antelope does are appearing beside a cottonwood tree. One by one they wander for a minute, then walk over the edge of the hill and disappear. I count eight before I see the buck. He's got nice sized horns and a big bulky body. The boys are at full alert with their binoculars and scope but the antelope are over a thousand yards away and a little shuffling around isn't disturbing them. I get my rifle set up prone on my pack and hope that the bunch is headed toward the water we are watching because once they get into the bottom, they could be going anywhere and I'm not going to run around playing hide and seek with three boys and nine antelope.
Sure enough there they are, popping up one by one out of a wash and nibbling at brush. The buck is last to appear. The rangefinder says 250 and they look further than that to me but it's what it says so I dial and squeeze. A clean miss. What the heck? The antelope are bunched up, but they don't know where the shot came from so they are looking around. The buck is moving fine and I don't see any sign of blood, but just to be sure I ask my son to keep watching through the spotter. I range them again and it comes up at 480. It must have bounced off a sagebrush since I was prone. The antelope stream down back into the bottom and disappear. Lots of things muttered under my breath!
I tell the boys that I want to make sure the buck isn't wounded and they insist they are fine where they are. They'll watch through the spotting scope while I slip ahead and follow the antelope. It's the bottom of the hunting emotional roller coaster as I trudge along a game trail along a finger ridge that looks out over a nice bowl shaped meadow, hoping I find them and hoping I didn't just wound a critter and scar my kids for life...and there's the top of the roller coaster because the antelope are there in the bowl and the buck is not wounded, but there is no sagebrush in the way and the rangefinder says 197 this time. In one movement I drop to a sitting position while swinging my pack around under my rifle, and it only takes a second to dial and breathe and pray before I squeeze the trigger. This time the buck drops straight down, rolls onto his back and kicks once, and my "thank You God" is out loud instead of under my breath.
I took a moment to look him over and he only had the one bullet hole, he was in perfect shape other than that. When I stood up on the ridge and looked back to where I left the boys, they had watched the whole time through the scope and had packed up at the sound of the shot and were already hustling down toward me. We took some pictures, notched the tag, and then set to work on the quartering. I've gutted out harvests before, and I've pitched in on the quartering, but this is the first time that my husband hasn't been there at all, not even on the phone to talk me through it, and I really wanted to get it right, so we took a while before we were all loaded up. My pack had two rear quarters and my rifle. My oldest took the big spotting scope and a front quarter, the next boy had the other front quarter and took turns with the youngest to carry the head, while the youngest got the 'goodie bag' with the backstraps and tenderloins.
The thing with hiking in downhill is that, obviously, the return trip is all uphill. It did break up the hike when my oldest asked if he could show off his elk bugle which he has been diligently practicing since he was a toddler. I figured with all the gunshots, and our talking while we worked, what was one more noise? So we stopped so that he could hear the sound of his bugle echo off the hill that towered to our right. I don't know if there was a connection or not, but right after he did that we saw two other hunters decked out in orange appear on top of that hill and glass down toward us. I gave them a friendly wave but they never waved back.
There were so many things to be thankful for! I got to spend a lovely morning out with my children. The buck was big and healthy, mature, with plenty of meat. I didn't wound an animal or have to follow a blood trail. We successfully took care of the meat and loaded our packs. And as we trudged up the hill to where we could see the top of the car gleaming in the sun, I was so thankful that the boys were using their energy to cheer each other on. No one complained. When one slowed down, another would ask if he was okay or if he needed to take a turn with a different pack. They found the energy to speed up when we got to the gate at the parking area because they wanted to hold it open for me, and they all worked to empty their packs into the coolers full of ice. They didn't even squabble over the snacks stashed in the car.
And then the next day they all helped to process the meat and get it wrapped and in the freezer, just in time for Dad to bring home an elk! It's going to be a delicious winter.
It was a busy opening morning since my mule deer tag was the first priority to fill, and I was so pleased that the boys didn't gripe at all about getting up at four in the morning. With a special buck hanging in the garage by lunch time, perfect weather at a nice 70 degrees, and the snack collection reinforced, we headed back out. There were vehicles parked at every possible spot where a road touched public land, so by the time we found somewhere that wasn't crowded it was getting later in the afternoon and the wind was kicking up. The boys kitted themselves out with binoculars and backpacks and we hiked on in. We had to go about a mile by the GPS before we found antelope, a small bunch of spooky does in the bottom of a wash, and a couple of golden backs just barely visible up a ridge. I was so pleased with the boys that we managed to stalk in to 130 yards on the ridge antelope, but finding just a doe and her fawn I didn't want to punch a type 1 tag and we retreated.
Over the weekend we went back out to a favorite spot and we saw antelope but got very sidetracked watching a bull elk who clearly knew the exact boundary of public and private land and walked in a neat and tidy pattern back and forth three hundred yards over the border. Oh well. At least we got the thrill of elk bugling!
Monday morning saw us bouncing over the ruts in the road with other drivers' headlights in my rearview mirror, hoping to be the first ones to my favorite parking spot. We had the spotting scope and a plan that required hiking in two miles in the dark to get close to water by first light. Aside from the occasional hushed whisper of 'are you sure you know where you're going?' the boys didn't complain once and they had fun taking turns carrying the GPS with the screen brightness turned down. We took a moment about half way in to pause and spot constellations while the stars were still visible and I thought to myself that even if we didn't see a single antelope, the experience with my children was worth the effort of getting up early and driving out.
We made it to the spot I wanted to sit at just as the sunrise was beginning to show gold over the horizon. There was a nice rock big enough for us to hunker down behind it, and my oldest son set up the spotting scope. The other two boys pulled their jackets up over their heads, announced that they were tired, and decided to take catnaps. Of course the naps got interrupted for snacking, but that's the way it goes with hunting.
There is something so special about watching the sun's rays advance steadily over the landscape and seeing the wildlife wake up, stretch, and start their day. I love how you can be looking directly at a spot that seems completely empty, and the next moment a doe is standing there with her fawn just looking around, and then they stroll off to browse.
Far down the valley antelope does are appearing beside a cottonwood tree. One by one they wander for a minute, then walk over the edge of the hill and disappear. I count eight before I see the buck. He's got nice sized horns and a big bulky body. The boys are at full alert with their binoculars and scope but the antelope are over a thousand yards away and a little shuffling around isn't disturbing them. I get my rifle set up prone on my pack and hope that the bunch is headed toward the water we are watching because once they get into the bottom, they could be going anywhere and I'm not going to run around playing hide and seek with three boys and nine antelope.
Sure enough there they are, popping up one by one out of a wash and nibbling at brush. The buck is last to appear. The rangefinder says 250 and they look further than that to me but it's what it says so I dial and squeeze. A clean miss. What the heck? The antelope are bunched up, but they don't know where the shot came from so they are looking around. The buck is moving fine and I don't see any sign of blood, but just to be sure I ask my son to keep watching through the spotter. I range them again and it comes up at 480. It must have bounced off a sagebrush since I was prone. The antelope stream down back into the bottom and disappear. Lots of things muttered under my breath!
I tell the boys that I want to make sure the buck isn't wounded and they insist they are fine where they are. They'll watch through the spotting scope while I slip ahead and follow the antelope. It's the bottom of the hunting emotional roller coaster as I trudge along a game trail along a finger ridge that looks out over a nice bowl shaped meadow, hoping I find them and hoping I didn't just wound a critter and scar my kids for life...and there's the top of the roller coaster because the antelope are there in the bowl and the buck is not wounded, but there is no sagebrush in the way and the rangefinder says 197 this time. In one movement I drop to a sitting position while swinging my pack around under my rifle, and it only takes a second to dial and breathe and pray before I squeeze the trigger. This time the buck drops straight down, rolls onto his back and kicks once, and my "thank You God" is out loud instead of under my breath.
I took a moment to look him over and he only had the one bullet hole, he was in perfect shape other than that. When I stood up on the ridge and looked back to where I left the boys, they had watched the whole time through the scope and had packed up at the sound of the shot and were already hustling down toward me. We took some pictures, notched the tag, and then set to work on the quartering. I've gutted out harvests before, and I've pitched in on the quartering, but this is the first time that my husband hasn't been there at all, not even on the phone to talk me through it, and I really wanted to get it right, so we took a while before we were all loaded up. My pack had two rear quarters and my rifle. My oldest took the big spotting scope and a front quarter, the next boy had the other front quarter and took turns with the youngest to carry the head, while the youngest got the 'goodie bag' with the backstraps and tenderloins.
The thing with hiking in downhill is that, obviously, the return trip is all uphill. It did break up the hike when my oldest asked if he could show off his elk bugle which he has been diligently practicing since he was a toddler. I figured with all the gunshots, and our talking while we worked, what was one more noise? So we stopped so that he could hear the sound of his bugle echo off the hill that towered to our right. I don't know if there was a connection or not, but right after he did that we saw two other hunters decked out in orange appear on top of that hill and glass down toward us. I gave them a friendly wave but they never waved back.
There were so many things to be thankful for! I got to spend a lovely morning out with my children. The buck was big and healthy, mature, with plenty of meat. I didn't wound an animal or have to follow a blood trail. We successfully took care of the meat and loaded our packs. And as we trudged up the hill to where we could see the top of the car gleaming in the sun, I was so thankful that the boys were using their energy to cheer each other on. No one complained. When one slowed down, another would ask if he was okay or if he needed to take a turn with a different pack. They found the energy to speed up when we got to the gate at the parking area because they wanted to hold it open for me, and they all worked to empty their packs into the coolers full of ice. They didn't even squabble over the snacks stashed in the car.
And then the next day they all helped to process the meat and get it wrapped and in the freezer, just in time for Dad to bring home an elk! It's going to be a delicious winter.
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