Pronghorn hunting slipping in CO, or, "Why Oak applied in WY..."

[Nut]

Truly it sounds sad for the lopes in Colorado.

But it is a heck of alot easier for a non-resident to hunt them in other western states.

 

[Oak]

For hunters, hardly a horn of plenty
March 5, 2004

The animal that defines the West in the eyes of many might as well be called "the other red meat" for all the attention Colorado hunters and even wildlife watchers pay to it.

The pronghorn - antelope or goat in the vernacular - seems to have dropped off the radar screen, at least in Colorado.

Elk and deer are the glamour species in the current limited-license shuffle with an April 6 application deadline. In the months before hunting season, drums of ink will be spilled rhapsodizing elk, in particular, and examining the status of overstuffed elk herds.

In September, TV cameras and thousands of still cameras will focus ad nauseam on bugling bull elk. But viewers will remain oblivious to the high drama on the plains and in the mountain valleys, where haughty pronghorn bucks will be herding does at breakneck speeds.

There are passionate pronghorn fans, including many hunters, but their numbers have declined in Colorado. That's partly because the state's residents have gone urban and partly because pronghorn numbers are declining.

"There are a couple of things going on with antelope that have us concerned," said Rick Kahn, terrestrial manager for the Colorado Division of Wildlife. "There are short-term effects from drought in certain places. And there are some long--term problems; out east, a variety of habitat conversions are going on that don't benefit antelope."

Drought has slashed pronghorn reproduction and hampered fawn survival, particularly on the Pawnee National Grassland and in the sagelands of far northwestern Colorado. The green forbs that pronghorns need to survive have shriveled and died.

In the southeast, farmers have swapped expanses of native shortgrass for taller crops and grasses fit for pheasants but unfit for pronghorns. South of Lamar, the herds probably never will be allowed to recover from intentional reduction in the late 1980s and '90s, when farmers complained the animals were eating too much winter wheat.

Since 1997, the number of hunters and the statewide antelope harvest have been cut almost in half through reductions in the number of limited hunting licenses. "We've done that ourselves," Kahn said.

Last year, 49,000 applicants vied for about 8,600 licenses. The hunters bagged 5,300 antelope. That doesn't come close to 1997, when 15,000 hunters bagged 10,000.

The division sells every antelope license it issues. But Kahn concedes the historical passion for antelope hunting is fading: "It doesn't seem to be as big a deal as it was 15 or 20 years ago."

He places part of the blame on urbanization, which has estranged the average person, including hunters, from any farmland roots. Out east, where virtually all land is private, if you don't know a farmer, you don't hunt.

Those who prefer to stalk pronghorns on public lands in western Colorado must wait for several years to draw a license. Some quit waiting and applying. The upshot is that Colorado's antelope-hunting heritage is withering on the vine, right behind sage grouse hunting.

Hunters readying their applications should keep in mind the number of pronghorn licenses is expected to drop again this year because of drought hangover on the plains and in western Colorado.

In Unit 2, northwest of Craig, drought has sliced so deeply into antelope reproduction that wildlife managers want to cut hunting licenses in half this year.

Despite the troubles, a fairly strong statewide pronghorn population of 55,000 to 60,000 remains scattered across the eastern plains and the mountain parks. But you wouldn't say the animals are abundant. If you want to see pronghorn abundance, go to Wyoming.

"We're not in a situation where the animals are going extinct or we need to stop hunting them," Kahn said. "But there is a trend here in the decline."

Hunter success remains reasonably high, about 60 percent. But to draw a pronghorn license requires some patience, particularly for hunters eyeing a hunt on the two most popular public lands, near Craig and on the Pawnee National Grassland.

Last year, rifle hunters needed eight preference points - nine years of waiting - to draw a buck license for Unit 3, northwest of Craig. Four points were needed for the doe license.

The wait is much shorter to nonexistent for those who plan ahead and get permission for a plains hunt. In all-private Elbert County, for example, it takes only one preference point to draw a buck license. The doe license is a sure thing - no points.

Don't jump the gun, though, Kahn cautions. Do some scouting and ask first for permission, before even filling out the form for an eastern unit.

Area wildlife biologists recommend hunting license availability based on herd counts, which they conduct twice a year - an August count to monitor pronghorn fawn production and a late-winter count to check on survival.

But Kahn said the division has no plans to do any special research on pronghorns. Again, elk and deer have upstaged antelope.

The agency recently hired a new elk and deer researcher. But its only antelope specialist, Tom Pojar, retired 15 months ago after being assigned for two years to mule deer research.

"We should see, hopefully, a response to this minimal (pronghorn) harvest and we should see populations beginning to increase," Kahn said. "We have no plans to hire an antelope biologist. But if the present trends continue, we may have to look into that."

Oak