Gastro Gnome - Eat Better Wherever

Popo Agie Canoe Trip

Ha! She’s sitting in the front of the house, but there’s a pesky propeller that hangs down below. Stopped at the mussel check station for the canoes but no one was home :unsure:
Being so cold, they probably thought no one would be interested in floating the Popo Agie. Union slackers no doubt!
 
You’re only allowed to wear that shirt if you can properly pronounce Popo Agie, Gros Ventre, and Absaroka.
Welcome to Montana, yes we know it looks like it's french but you're gonna want to pronounce it like a total white trash hick.

Here are your permanent plates.

Yes, that's correct it's year around elk season.
 
I feel like "Popo Agie" ( 😉 ) isn't specific enough. Can you give posterity a unit number too?
 
Hard asses. Sorry for the delay guys, I got called to work right away Sunday morning. Thought I was going to have a couple days off after getting home Saturday.
 
Hard asses. Sorry for the delay guys, I got called to work right away Sunday morning. Thought I was going to have a couple days off after getting home Saturday.
At least share a picture of the Dutch Oven deserts.
 
No doubt! Reading this thread I was surprised to learn they still make Old Milwaukee beer and people still buy it.
I'm more surprised at Schmidt beer--I haven't seen animal cans since my dad used to drink them in the 80s and 90s.
 
Day 3- Hayden and John had seen quite a few different deer on the main island we were camped on and I had missed my shot at last light so we changed it up a little bit and decided to stay on this island hoping to catch deer moving from timber patch to timber patch. We made a critical mistake right away in the morning by not following the river bank and we pushed a beautiful buck out of the timber only 400 yards away from the tent. Looking back on the entire hunt, I naively expected whitetails to be coming out into the open meadows in the mornings and evenings. I can only assume that the lack of agriculture and the availability of browse in the timber patches prevented them from doing so. It seemed those open meadows were only used to cover ground quickly to get to a different timber patch. Outside of that nice buck right at first light it was a slow first half of the day. After lunch we decided to split up once again and I would canoe back across the river and set in for an evening hunt mainly overlooking the sand bar with the saplings poking up through that the deer seemed to love the night before. Hayden and Scott would travel to the general area we saw the nice buck in the morning head towards. There was an alley way carved by the meandering river scars through the thickest part of the island that was about 250 yards long and about 30 yards wide. Deer had clearly been traveling through the alley all day long to and from the river.

I sat for the rest of the day only to be taunted by pheasants and squirrels. At 2:15 I got a text from Hayden saying a real nice buck walked right through the alley at 220 yards but never slowed down long enough for a comfortable shot. Does were continuing to move through the alley so it felt like it was only a waiting game. At 3:32 I heard a single gunshot come from where Hayden and Scott were sitting. A couple minutes went by before the update came back of “old buck. 100 yards, Definite hit. We’re gonna give him a few minutes before we start trailing.”

I waited until dark with nothing showing up on the promising sand bar, canoed back across the river to camp and waited for good news. About an hour after shooting light, John, Hayden, and Scott made it back to camp without the buck. They followed blood for about 200 yards with no luck and backed out until after dinner to regroup and grab me to help track. Day 3’s dinner was Bison Fajitas and Quesadillas (shout out to the APR for the Bison meat)

We were back on the trail by 7 with our bellies fat and happy. I quickly knew the trail indicated it was a fatal hit. It indicated a slightly high lung shot. In the beginning of the trail there were chunks of lung and occasionally the buck would cough blood along the trail. The blood trail would be consistent for 30-40 yards and then would disappear for 20 yards or so. The shimmer of the head lamps seemed to help reflect off the blood but every time he’d stop bleeding you’d lose your bearings on where you were at and struggle to find the lanes for him to travel in the timber. We searched that night for 3 hours and finally got stumped at his first bedding spot, 550 yards from the shot. We spent another hour at the bed spot trying to figure out which direction he traveled from that point with no luck.

At 10:30 we decided to back out for the night and hit it again in the daylight. It showed to get down to about 10* at night so we felt comfortable calling it a night.5DAAC0EC-E785-4EDE-9E2D-74A6D66C0EE8.jpegF20579B9-F8F8-49AA-80A3-2BFBB5709C9C.jpeg6402DCB3-5278-43A8-9606-D4E1D44FF574.jpeg8421D877-D8CE-4851-B261-DA1D42721683.jpeg
 
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