Wyoming pronghorn is our happy hunt

[270.Rose]

"We interrupt this marriage to bring you Hunting Season." My cousin, who knows we like to hunt, sent me this meme a few weeks ago.
Well, not this marriage. Our 'quality time together' is packs and lace up boots and tags in pocket. Our early 10th anniversary celebration was an exhausting and ultimately empty-handed elk hunt. On to a birthday celebration of a Wyoming pronghorn hunt.
If elk hunting is the crucible that tests the bonds of your marriage and proves you must be best friends because you can come out of an eight mile hike through cactus and still be holding hands, then antelope hunting is the fun day at the fair, complete with snacks, rides, and even the occasional troop of clowns. Too many clowns for me to be totally comfortable and relaxed roaming around out there!
It's late in the morning by the time we arrive at our favorite hunting spot, and we're already seeing pickups with happy, tagged-out hunters. We're also seeing antelope. Plenty of nice, fat, healthy antelope. The sun is shining. The temperature is a comfortable 72 degrees. It's a perfect day.

It doesn't take long to spot a good possibility. A larger buck with several does and a smaller buck, at a comfortable 342 yards. We discuss him for a bit and decide to pull the truck over the hill and make a stalk.
When we crest the hill, the game warden is parked there inspecting two trucks full of successful hunters. Well, there's no way in the world that I intend to do any kind of stalking or shooting with the game warden and two truckloads of fellow hunters looking over my shoulder!

 

[220yotekiller]

This doesn't exactly break my heart into a thousand pieces. We were only a mile from the pavement. The day had just started for Pete's sakes!

 

[270.Rose]

We reminisce about past hunts, admire the weather and the scenery, snack, and watch antelope. Hike the ridges, look through the spotting scope, watch other hunters.
(I have to add a note here about hunting with my husband. He likes to comment 'hey honey, wanna walk a little ways up that ridge and glass?' but neglects to mention that 'a little way' is never any less than two thousand yards and done at a pace that most people would have to jog to keep up with. He did promise me a certificate for keeping up with his style of hunting after we'd hiked twenty miles in three days.....)
There's a nice buck down in a valley but he's on full alert watching a group of hunters with a just-harvested buck. He's stamping his foot and although he's too far away to hear, through the scope we can see him making those warning noises. Another bunch is about a mile away on the other side of the valley, but we would have to hike over open ground right past the other hunters to get to them. It's not worth it when we can't tell how big the bucks are. Back to the truck.

 

[220yotekiller]

The closest we could get before we ran out of cover was about 450 yards, well within the shooter's and the rifle's limits but I know that there are enough bucks that will be easier to get to. This buck isn't big enough to worry about for now.

 

[270.Rose]

There are plenty of sizable and handsome bucks ensconced cozily on private land without the slightest intention of moving. We watch the blinking blue arrow on the GPS screen and the moment it crosses into blue or yellow, out come the binoculars. In a particularly large section of state ground, we see several groups of antelope and grab packs and rifle to hike to the top of a hill over a mile away.
An almost completely white doe is bedded on the side of the hill at 650 yards. She's watching us but not spooked. There are a couple of does above her, with a small, juvenile buck. On the hill at our backs, another group of does with two bucks on the skyline are feeling spooked. They stream down the hill, silhouetted against the clouds.
I'm standing a pace behind my husband as we glass, and step forward to see what he's looking at. A buzzing in the sagebrush just an inch or two from my foot has me leaping backwards and saying something I'm glad the kids weren't there to hear. Rattlesnakes and I do not get along, and this one is cranky at having his space invaded. For the rest of the day, I'm inspecting every bit of brush and jumping at the buzz of cicadas flying up at me.

 

[270.Rose]

We go prone on the top of a rise and glass for a while. The buck high on the hill is too small and too far away. The other bunch has come down the hill into the valley below us and they are on edge, watching us. The bigger buck is a nice size but there's no sneaking up on him.
Directly in front of us. 375 yards. He pops up over a ridge, looking at us, but he's curious, not spooked. He actually starts walking toward us. I like the little wave in his horns and he's fully mature, not a juvenile. We discuss the wind. The distance is well within my comfortable shooting range with this rifle. I check the drop chart taped to my binoculars and dial.
He turns to watch the antelope down in the valley. He's broadside, motionless. Rifle over the pack. My finger on the trigger. Breathe and squeeze. In the scope I see him leap and disappear back over the ridge. The white doe is still bedded. She doesn't move as we gather our packs and hike over to where he vanished.
He only went a few yards before he dropped. It was a good clean shot and I'm thankful that he didn't suffer and we didn't have to track him. The bullet hit about 2 inches lower than I was holding but nailed the heart dead center.

 

[220yotekiller]

She did great, all the practice and competition that we did over the summer has paid us back in dividends. The buck went over the edge of the hill and in a moment his herd of does boiled out of the draw, we watched for several minutes. When he didn't follow them we decided to hike over to see how she did. The bright white belly was a welcome sight as we topped the ridge, no tracking job here!

 

[270.Rose]

In less than an hour the antelope is skinned, quartered, packed into game bags, and loaded into a cooler full of ice in the truck. Down the road looking for the next one. The sun is shining, the breeze is barely blowing, it's 72F and couldn't be a prettier day.

 

[220yotekiller]

We headed down the road, toward where I had shot my first antelope three years ago. On the way, we passed a couple of other rigs obviously after bucks of their own. Off the right there was a buck standing in a flat, not far off the road. She and I were looking him over with our binoculars. He wasn't bad, an average buck but his prongs were nice. Suddenly there was a puff of dust off to the right (meaning 5 feet to the right) and the sound of a shot. I looked in the direction of the shooting and see a guy dressed in all orange laying prone, his rifle on a bipod, his wife (I am assuming) dressed in orange pants was standing "spotting for him". I panned back to the buck who had walked a whole twenty yards and stopped broadside to the guy, there was another shot and another puff of dust probably 8 or 9 feet to the right.
We decided to leave them to it and find a buck for me.

 

[270.Rose]

I think that buck is destined to live a long and happy life. My apologies if the shooters on the hill were fellow HuntTalkers with a rifle that got dropped in transit or some such scenario, but when you watch someone miss a standing target by feet at a distance of a hundred yards while prone with a bipod it's kinda hard not to think a few judgmental thoughts. I raise a ginger beer toast to the antelope's lack of sense in standing there to be shot at and we giggle our way down the road.
There are antelope in a far-distant bowl between two hills, almost out of range of the spotting scope. Is it worth it to hike over there when we can't even tell if they are bucks or does? Let's glass in the other direction. (That means hike a half mile. Briskly.) We come over the top of the hill and he's standing there looking at us. He's clearly bigger than the buck I just harvested with beautiful prongs and a wide, heavy base.
Let's turn around and let him see us leave.
We come down the back side of the hill and work our way slowly towards where the buck is grazing, going to hands and knees before he can spot us. It's easier to crawl without having to juggle a rifle and I'm reminded of last year's hunt through mud and cactus thorns. Compared to last year, this is a piece of cake. We're prone. 325 yards. I watch through binoculars while my peripheral vision catches my husband's deep breath in preparation for the trigger squeeze. The antelope drops straight down without even taking a step.

 

[220yotekiller]

We crawled up the ridge and got as comfortable as possible, dialed my scope to 325 yds and shot (thanks Shmalts). The buck dropped picture perfect where he stood. She hiked my rifle and spotter back to the truck, then pulled it around so that we wouldn't have an uphill hike out and brought her pack and the rest of the game bags.

 

[270.Rose]

It takes less than an hour to get the antelope quartered, skinned, and picked clean of the ants living in the anthill that the buck unfortunately died on top of. They are not happy ants. We're very happy hunters.
We have friends hunting in the area but they aren't seeing the same numbers of antelope, so we send them our location and head out to join up with them. It doesn't take long before he's stalking a buck that has about average horns but an incredibly large body. For a fill-the-freezer hunt, this one is exceptional.
We're driving out of the unit before sunset, coolers packed full of ice and meat and a pile of good memories to enjoy.

The next day is a long and satisfying day of processing the meat and getting it in the freezer. Twenty pounds of blueberry maple breakfast sausage takes pride of place, wrapped and decorated by a five year old who wants to draw 'happy antelope with stub tails'. Roasts, backstrap, tenderloins, all cut and trimmed just how we want it. I'm glad my kids know where their food comes from and thankful for my husband who is the best hunting buddy ever.
Wyoming pronghorns are definitely our happy hunts.

 

[Sask hunter]

Looks like a fun trip congrats!

 

[fishing4sanity]

Congratulations on two fine looking pronghorn and an obviously great marriage!

 

[kansasdad]

Loving the tag team reporting on your adventure.
Congratulations to the both of you.

 

[SCliving Outdoors]

Good job yall. Sounds like a fun trip! Meat in the freezer is hard to beat.

 

[Sheltowee]

Twenty pounds of blueberry maple breakfast sausage takes pride of place, wrapped and decorated by a five year old who wants to draw 'happy antelope with stub tails'.

Would definitely like to hear more about these blueberry maple breakfast sausage. What is your meat to fat ratio? Do you have a recipe handy?

 

[WNC2500]

I enjoy the tag team posting and play by play as well. Great speed goats for both of you!!

 

[270.Rose]

Would definitely like to hear more about these blueberry maple breakfast sausage. What is your meat to fat ratio? Do you have a recipe handy?

18lbs antelope meat, trimmed for the grinder,
3.5lbs pork fat,
3lbs frozen wild blueberries,
3/4 cup maple syrup,
8oz milk powder,
3tbsp dried marjoram,
1/2tsp ginger,
1/3tsp nutmeg,
1/4tsp red pepper flakes,
7tsp pink Himalayan salt.
We ran the antelope meat and frozen chunks of pork fat through the largest grinder plate so it was semi-mixed and then set it in an enormous bowl in the freezer while we ate supper to chill a bit more. On the second grind we used the next smaller plate and mixed the frozen blueberries in before we put it through. The milk powder, maple syrup and spices are mixed in by hand after the second grind (this is so that you can take some of the blueberried meat and mix in a bit of seasoning, sample, edit recipe, sample again etc). The key is keeping it all cold enough that the blueberries stay frozen through the process.

 

[CPAjeff]

What a cool way to tell about the adventure - congrats!