Gerald Martin
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jul 3, 2009
- Messages
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With the recent changes to Montana law now allowing ten year old's to hunt without hunter's safety, my ten year old son Timothy was quite excited to learn he was going to be able to hunt two years sooner than he had previously expected.
I know there was a lot of heated discussion on this board and I'm sure other places around Montana about the wisdom of these new changes. As most of you know, I was completely ambivalent in my opinion about the matter and kept my thoughts to myself.
As daylight fades on the last day of Montana's general season, I haven't heard yet of any serious accidents or threatened mass extinctions of game populations,(with perhaps the exception of localized regions where Crittergetter's son Braden, was unleashed on trophy whitetails.) But, I digress. Back to the subject at hand.
Most of my posts this fall have been focused on my daughter Olivia, and her first season as a newly minted licensed hunter. She had a stellar first hunting season and ended her year with a turkey, black bear, antelope, and two whitetails. Only her elk tag is added to the pot of tag soup that I have heartily contributed personally to.
I made it clear to Timothy at the beginning of the year that since Olivia was older and had waited longer, if there was a question of who would get to go hunting, it would be weighted in Olivia's favor. He was fine with that and it really was not an issue since luck seemed to be Olivia's middle name. Opportunities came and lingered around her nearly every time she came out and it seemed like the harder Timothy and I hunted, the luckier Olivia got. He actually deferred two shot opportunities to her because of various conditions or difficulty and she made them good.
Timothy had actually killed his first big game animal when he was eight on a trip back to my parent's farm in Virginia. He made a great shot with a .50 cal muzzleloader on this button buck.
Our plans for the children's first hunting opportunity consisted of a combined family camping/antelope/youth deer hunt in region 3 where Olivia and I had drawn antelope tags. I picked up an OTC region 3 whitetail tag for the children so they could hopefully fill two deer tags this fall. We set off on the trip with high expectations and hopes for what the next four days would bring.
Timothy stayed in camp as Olivia and I set off for our first day of antelope hunting. He watched us drive back into camp with her first buck taken on the first stalk of the first day with one shot.
He was with his brother Gareth when he bagged this red fox at 80 yards with an open sighted .22.
Youth deer season began the following morning and after taking care of the antelope and the fox, we headed out to scout for the following morning. Our first glassing spot turned up two bucks that were definitely big enough to hang the children's tags on.
Opening morning found us sitting on the ridge 250 yards from where we had seen the bucks the previous evening. As dawn began to break, I was glassing in earnest trying to find the bucks. First light turned up some does 800 yards out, when I glanced down the draw to where the bucks were emerging from a cut in the valley at 265 yards. It was Timothy's turn to shoot first and the deer were definitely within range, but the tall grass prevented him from getting prone on the bipods and he was not steady from a sitting position. The deer disappeared from view only to come back into view on the opposite ridge. They were now 310 yards but we still couldn't get steady. Finally, about 15 minutes later the bucks were at 370 and he was steady from a prone position. He felt good, but a stiff breeze and the extreme distance were more than I was comfortable with so I called off the shot. He and Olivia dry fired 15-20 times on the bucks as they fed further up the ridge. As we tried to close the distance a bit later, we ended up spooking the bucks and they blew over the ridge into the timber. First chance blown.
I didn't mention Timothy's personal standard for a deer he wanted to tag. He had his hopes set on at least a 3x3 before he punched his tag. As we chased after the bucks, a forked horn jumped out of his bed and posed at 150 yards. Timothy passed and watched him stott over the ridge.
We headed back to camp for lunch and a regroup and decided to drive to the other side of the unit for a chance at a whitetail doe. As hunting luck would go, when opportunity knocked, Olivia was the one with the bipod on her gun and she made a one shot kill on this mature doe at 250yds. With the doe down, Timothy settled in behind the gun and had several fleeting chances at the fawn. He just needed a few seconds before firing but the opportunity was gone before he could squeeze the trigger. He was genuinely happy for his sister, even though it was technically his turn to shoot.
Late night getting back to camp led to sleeping in and processing the doe before heading back out for an afternoon hunt. Again, whitetail does were our priority as we would not be returning to region 3 for the remainder of the season. We saw several does that night but again, fleeting opportunity in the brush never materialized into a shot and eventually a bull moose wandered into the setting and spooked the deer. As we were trying to get back on the does, an unsuspecting forked horn whitetail browsed with 20 yards of us for nearly half an hour. Nope. Too small. Later that night, we shared a can of sardines in relative silence as the moon rose over the mountain. There was a quiet disappointment, but a growing sense of understanding that desire and effort do not necessarily guarantee the hoped for outcome.
I know there was a lot of heated discussion on this board and I'm sure other places around Montana about the wisdom of these new changes. As most of you know, I was completely ambivalent in my opinion about the matter and kept my thoughts to myself.
As daylight fades on the last day of Montana's general season, I haven't heard yet of any serious accidents or threatened mass extinctions of game populations,(with perhaps the exception of localized regions where Crittergetter's son Braden, was unleashed on trophy whitetails.) But, I digress. Back to the subject at hand.
Most of my posts this fall have been focused on my daughter Olivia, and her first season as a newly minted licensed hunter. She had a stellar first hunting season and ended her year with a turkey, black bear, antelope, and two whitetails. Only her elk tag is added to the pot of tag soup that I have heartily contributed personally to.
I made it clear to Timothy at the beginning of the year that since Olivia was older and had waited longer, if there was a question of who would get to go hunting, it would be weighted in Olivia's favor. He was fine with that and it really was not an issue since luck seemed to be Olivia's middle name. Opportunities came and lingered around her nearly every time she came out and it seemed like the harder Timothy and I hunted, the luckier Olivia got. He actually deferred two shot opportunities to her because of various conditions or difficulty and she made them good.
Timothy had actually killed his first big game animal when he was eight on a trip back to my parent's farm in Virginia. He made a great shot with a .50 cal muzzleloader on this button buck.
Our plans for the children's first hunting opportunity consisted of a combined family camping/antelope/youth deer hunt in region 3 where Olivia and I had drawn antelope tags. I picked up an OTC region 3 whitetail tag for the children so they could hopefully fill two deer tags this fall. We set off on the trip with high expectations and hopes for what the next four days would bring.
Timothy stayed in camp as Olivia and I set off for our first day of antelope hunting. He watched us drive back into camp with her first buck taken on the first stalk of the first day with one shot.
He was with his brother Gareth when he bagged this red fox at 80 yards with an open sighted .22.
Youth deer season began the following morning and after taking care of the antelope and the fox, we headed out to scout for the following morning. Our first glassing spot turned up two bucks that were definitely big enough to hang the children's tags on.
Opening morning found us sitting on the ridge 250 yards from where we had seen the bucks the previous evening. As dawn began to break, I was glassing in earnest trying to find the bucks. First light turned up some does 800 yards out, when I glanced down the draw to where the bucks were emerging from a cut in the valley at 265 yards. It was Timothy's turn to shoot first and the deer were definitely within range, but the tall grass prevented him from getting prone on the bipods and he was not steady from a sitting position. The deer disappeared from view only to come back into view on the opposite ridge. They were now 310 yards but we still couldn't get steady. Finally, about 15 minutes later the bucks were at 370 and he was steady from a prone position. He felt good, but a stiff breeze and the extreme distance were more than I was comfortable with so I called off the shot. He and Olivia dry fired 15-20 times on the bucks as they fed further up the ridge. As we tried to close the distance a bit later, we ended up spooking the bucks and they blew over the ridge into the timber. First chance blown.
I didn't mention Timothy's personal standard for a deer he wanted to tag. He had his hopes set on at least a 3x3 before he punched his tag. As we chased after the bucks, a forked horn jumped out of his bed and posed at 150 yards. Timothy passed and watched him stott over the ridge.
We headed back to camp for lunch and a regroup and decided to drive to the other side of the unit for a chance at a whitetail doe. As hunting luck would go, when opportunity knocked, Olivia was the one with the bipod on her gun and she made a one shot kill on this mature doe at 250yds. With the doe down, Timothy settled in behind the gun and had several fleeting chances at the fawn. He just needed a few seconds before firing but the opportunity was gone before he could squeeze the trigger. He was genuinely happy for his sister, even though it was technically his turn to shoot.
Late night getting back to camp led to sleeping in and processing the doe before heading back out for an afternoon hunt. Again, whitetail does were our priority as we would not be returning to region 3 for the remainder of the season. We saw several does that night but again, fleeting opportunity in the brush never materialized into a shot and eventually a bull moose wandered into the setting and spooked the deer. As we were trying to get back on the does, an unsuspecting forked horn whitetail browsed with 20 yards of us for nearly half an hour. Nope. Too small. Later that night, we shared a can of sardines in relative silence as the moon rose over the mountain. There was a quiet disappointment, but a growing sense of understanding that desire and effort do not necessarily guarantee the hoped for outcome.
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