Caribou Gear Tarp

The Hunt For Pamela Anderson

squirrel

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Dec 29, 2013
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27 years and 25 pts were cashed in this year to get the Princess her big shot. Pre-season scouting was incredible and started in mid September in between sending llamas out. First trip the best I saw was what would have been a 380 bull if he had had a normal symmetrical 3rd on his right antler, but he didn't. While I was watching him at 250 yards I glanced over and saw a perfect 190" Muley typpy 200 yards the other way. I about broke my neck swiveling between the two with the scope.
The country was very pretty, but incredibly dry.IMG_0023.JPG

The second trip I went into a different environment and immediately found a lot of 6x6's, but on the second day i saw him/her... Pamela, as in "look at the rack on that one!"
I continued to scout but there was never really any way I could be impressed after seeing Pam rake a tree at 100 yards. As he walked away i got done peeing down my leg and realized I had my good camera with me that day and took a few pics of him at around 200 yards.

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We continued to date casually (about every other day) and i saw others but I just really wanted to commit to Pam, and i knew deep down that she felt the same about me but did her best to play hard to get. I did have this nagging suspicion that I was a bit out of my league, like back in college, but I assured myself that I was a much more desire-able studmuffin than back in '82.


The 3rd and final trip for pre-season I found Pam and did my best not to creep her out while stalking her from a distance, it was impossible i just had to get close to her, this was love, no doubt.DSC07460.JPG


The royal castle was built just in time for the carriage bearing her highness to pull in for the ceremonial (and foregone) pulling of the trigger on opening morning as our 'every other day" dating pattern had been kept up right until two days before the opener. I always left her wanting more and withheld my blessed presence by seeing different bulls on the in between days.DSC07525.JPG
 
...here's a thong Lincoln, keep dancin' ;)


ah yes, the tawdry topic of coin... twould be more effective if in the denomination of the old french bound womanizing statesman rather than merely a politician...

Upon the opener things went pretty much to shit. The elk were large numerous and none too wily, but the people, Oh my the people. Outfitters, clients, observers, and all seemingly had no clue how an elk should be hunted. It did play somewhat into her highness' favor in that they paraded past within bow range. Princess chafed at the pamela leash around her trigger guard, but I kept assuring her "wait until you see PAM.
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Just after daylight an un-forseen wrinkle was upon us. We got an escort, a full time escort of the CPW variety. He parked, he watched, he followed, every move we made. He was our own little personal shadow wherever we went, staring at us through his glass. When we went back to move to another location he would take off circle and come in on us again once we chose our next observation hill, when we put a mountain between us and the road he would circle far and watch from several miles away through his scope. In the afternoon this girl who never read anything in her life but "50 shades of gray" started poring over the regulations. Hours of study resulted in "I can't find any thing we are doing wrong..." Yes dear that is kinda the whole idea.

Early in the second day of this princess announced that she was not going to shoot anything no matter what. As it would have repercussions on her job. We were simply observers now to the outfitter and client fiasco un-folding around us. I knew better than to argue as the royal pain-in-the-ass can be a bit... shall we say stubborn.

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and Harley there is room in my ample thong for a weatherby. But alas I must go chunk up a doe now.
 
Franklin's peccadilloes notwithstanding methinks the pace of the tale is nearing Jeffersonian gratuity....
 
Squirrel & Princess are/were actually after Samson, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
CPW looking to make someone famous.
 
Last edited:
Squirrel & Princess are/were actually after Samson, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
CPW looking to make someone famous.
Actually Princess' theory was they were looking to make someone broke, as in $13,640 broke. but I digress...

So with each outfitter vehicular chase and each 1000 yard volley of well aimed client fusillade these docile creatures were starting to resemble real elk, and do what real elk do, disappear. We always seemed to be right where they wanted to go and got to see some nice bulls quite close. Danny and Arnold (two twin 6x7's) tempted princess into asking for a shell, but a glance over the shoulder showed our little badge buddy right there 300 yards away staring. Elephant head was an awesome bull, well, half of an awesome bull anyway but there was lil green gestapo making her paranoid as @#%$.

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Finally he followed us to camp and checked her tag, she beat me with the royal scepter and sent me into the castle with explicit instructions to stay and keep my mouth shut. I listened in as she barked at him more than I thought she ever would. He stammered and stuttered out some lame excuse about it was his right to watch the elk too but it must have made an impression as our tail gave us considerable space after that.



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Finally some elderly nimrod emptied a magazine or two at Arnold while he had the herd bull status and it blew everything up. I knew it was time to take the shells out of my pocket and give one to her highness if she would actually fire it, since our sampson ticket in waiting seemed to have been chastised enough to disappear for substantial intervals. We had a gimme opportunity on Elephant head the next morning and the outfitter blew it up chasing him with his vehicle, then on foot, then by truck again until he crossed completely out of the unit, never to be sighted again by us. It would be late in the season before we would have anything over 330 sighted. On day 8 or 9 I was getting my ass kicked at chess by my phone when Princess hissed she saw an elk. 3 hours before dark??? A quick check revealed a 350 bull at exactly 401 yards. I had spent some of the crown jewel money on a sendero with vx-5 and she had never shot worse than an 8" 400 yard group during any of our practice sessions all summer, she smiled and said hes not 400 he's too far. I asked if I could call she said no then changed her mind, a couple cow calls changed his mind from grass to ass in about .5 seconds. He came in and hung up for half an hour at 75 yards as I listened to what amounted to an ongoing heart attack from beside me. I asked her if she could see him and the coffee cup size eyes answered without a word being needed. I think right then she would have shot him through the bill of the little cpw pricks' hat. But he didn't get big by being stupid and after half an hour broke back and huffed a muted bark at us from about 150 yards away.

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She second guessed herself all night until sleep came on the head shot he offered and the bits n pieces of hide she had to shoot at. She was worried I was pissed that she had blown her big chance after a lifetime of waiting, far from it I was proud as hell of her decision. Not many hunters wouldn't have thrown some lead under that amount of stress. We had one more near miss with he who was now named "Heart Attack" on the last day but he broke from a perfect ambush to chase a cow at the last minute and our hunt was officially over, and that worthless Pam chick... never did show, I guess she was out of my
league after all?

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