Pronghorn junkies look here

[Commutair]

Can't wait for October

Ditto ditto

 

[Hot tent]

I found a landowner who let me hunt. Antelope meat is the best. I ate one tenderloin tonight and soaking the heart in balsamic vinegar. It really is good meat. Cooked the liver for the dogs and cat. They know what's good.

No antelope on public land in Montana but some ranchers will allow access.

 

[Rack Daniels]

No antelope on public land in Montana

 

[Seahawkfan]

Love your antelope hunts will download for sure

 

[Frequently Banned Troll]

Author: Colton Timmons (PHA Co-founder)​

Check this story out and come book a hunt through us!​

https://www.premierhuntingadventures.com

SPOT & STALK PRONGHORN: EARNING IT ON THE OPEN PLAINS​

Spot-and-stalk antelope hunting on the open plains is a unique challenge. The grass is grazed down by cattle, and cactus seems to find you no matter how careful you are. There is little to no cover, and every movement matters.

I have hunted pronghorn with a rifle most of my life and have taken several solid plains bucks. In recent years, however, I have shifted toward bowhunting—chasing everything from javelina in western Arizona to Rocky Mountain elk in high alpine basins, and even black bears in thick chokecherry patches.

Part of the ongoing pursuit of hunting is challenging yourself and discovering what success truly means to you. There are countless ways to hunt the same animal, and I decided I wanted to take a pronghorn buck with a bow—spot and stalk—on an over-the-counter hunt in eastern Colorado on private land my family has hunted for two generations.

After a summer of building arrows, paper tuning, and practicing realistic shot scenarios, I felt prepared to face the challenge. When opening day arrived, I was on bucks at first light, watching them push does at full speed across open, rolling hills.

BUILT FOR THE PLAINS​

The American pronghorn is a survivor of the Pleistocene Epoch—a time when North America held far more, and far faster, predators than it does today. Animals like the American cheetah helped shape what the pronghorn has become.

Today, pronghorn can reach speeds of 55–60 mph and sustain 30–40 mph for miles. On top of that, they possess roughly 320-degree vision and can detect movement from several miles away.

In real terms, this makes getting within 100 yards of a mature buck one of the most challenging spot-and-stalk hunts in North America.

GRINDING IT OUT​

After three days of nonstop stalks on multiple bucks, I found myself repeatedly busted—often by does that seemed to pick me apart from impossible distances. More than once, I lay face down in the dirt, trying not to breathe too heavily, hoping the buck I had seen minutes earlier was still within range.

By Sunday, I told myself I needed a reset. But like any hunter knows, that feeling doesn’t last long.

I woke up and went anyway.

Driving my old 4Runner down a washed-out dirt road, country music playing low, I shut it off and pulled up near an old oil derrick. I stepped out, grabbed my bow, and ranged my target at 55 yards.

I drew, settled, and released—missed.

No excuses. Just a miss.

I reset, drew again, and this time center-punched the target.

At that moment, I knew I was ready.

THE OPPORTUNITY​

Back in the truck, I rolled slowly down another familiar road where I had been seeing bucks. Then it happened.

A lone buck.

He had been running with a group of does all week, and I hadn’t been able to get within 400 yards of them. But now he was bedded alone between two rolling hills, completely exposed.

The only advantage I had was a small creek bottom with a few scattered trees that could get me within roughly 200 yards.

I grabbed my umbrella decoy—something I hadn’t yet made work—and slipped on moccasins.

From there, it was slow, deliberate movement.

Toe to heel.
Step by step.
Constant wind checks.
No wasted motion.

CLOSING THE DISTANCE​

At the final tree, there was no more cover.

I knew he was bedded somewhere below me, and from here it would take a crawl.

I set down my bino harness, slipped my rangefinder into my pocket, and removed my quiver—holding two arrows in hand.

Heart pounding. Heat rising.

I opened the umbrella decoy and began moving forward slowly, scanning every ridge line for movement.

Then I saw him.

Exactly where I had left him.

He looked directly at me.

Perfect.

I set the decoy down gently and slid back, legs out in front, bow in hand.

Minutes passed like hours.

At 90 yards, he began working toward me, trying to get downwind. He moved broadside, then stopped, then angled in again.

Each time I felt exposed, I adjusted slightly, staying hidden behind the decoy.

Finally, he closed to range.

My rangefinder struggled through the grass and gave me 66 yards.

I dialed for 70.

I drew.

He turned, then paused.

I took a breath and released.

THE MOMENT​

He spun and ran.

I assumed I had missed.

Then, as he crested back toward where he had bedded, he slowed… wobbled… and went down.

Relief hit first.
Then emotion.

This plains monarch—earned the hard way—was finally mine.

WHAT MAKES A HUNT SUCCESSFUL​

In that moment, my thoughts weren’t about inches of horn.

They were about, the land, the animal, my family, and the effort it took to get there.

A successful hunt is subjective.

For me, it comes down to the preparation and effort put in long before the moment arrives. Success is giving yourself a real opportunity—whether that ends in harvest or simply in growth.

The animal lives every day in the elements, constantly fighting to survive. To honor that, we should challenge ourselves in the same way.

Because in the end, success isn’t guaranteed.

But the pursuit always is.View attachment 405567