10.03.2012

The last step is kind of important, too.

No real news that catches my eye, so you'll have to satisfy yourself with more hunting stories.  I promise, I won't step by step through 7 days of elk hunting like this.

After passing up numerous deer on the side of the freeway, I finally made it to my happy hunting grounds.  While I had identified several farms where I could hunt in the Pomeroy area, I really hadn't put boots on the ground prior to the season.  So, when I spotted a few deer on a hill side, I figured that was as good a place as any to get out and start walking.  Figured if I saw three deer, there might be another few I couldn't see...and there were!  Half-an-hour of tromping through waist high, bone dry grass convinced me I wasn't going to be able to work any closer than 150-200 yards away from them. 

I ended up walking a big 1.5 mile loop, and spooked several more deer.  There is little more demoralizing as a hunter than seeing a mule deers white ass 'sproinging' away in that way that only a mule deer can hop. 

With a lot of ground to cover, I got back in my truck and moved to another farm, and after walking in, I found a promising looking draw I decided to keep an eye on for a while, because it looked like 'deer country.' 


What I was trying to zoom in(really, I was just looking for an excuse to play with my phone...it can zoom!) on were two bucks that confirmed my instincts were valid.  About 20 minutes after I sat down, they popped over the top of the hill and worked their way down into the thick brush at the top of the ravine, where they promptly bedded down. 

I waited an hour for them to pop out down below, and finally decided I was going to have to go in after them.  The wind was blowing pretty stiffly right into my face, and for the most part, it was pretty easy walking through a freshly harvested wheat field.

For a while, I looked and acted like a real hunter.  I shimmied in between the 3rd and 4th strands of a barb-wire fence(I had permission to be on the land, the guy just had a few fences running across the property).  About half-way there, I dropped off my back-pack so I could start serious crouching approach.  When I got about 40 yards away from where I thought the bucks where, I eased up to get my bearings, and as I did that, both bucks jumped up.  Both were legal, with the bigger one being a 4 or 5 pointer.  I brought the rifle to my shoulder, and promptly forgot EVERYTHING I ever learned about being a shooter. 

I was looking at the bigger buck while I had the rifle pointed at the smaller, but closer, buck.  I didn't pause half a second to hold my breath.  I jerked the trigger instead smoothly pulling it.  And I flat out missed.  The deer was quartering away.  It wasn't an easy shot, but you didn't have to be Annie Oakley either. 

After doing everything else right, I was very depressed...and even more so because I then spent the next hour walking around in a circle to see if I could find any sign that I HAD hit the buck.  It was then a much longer walk back to my truck than it had been walking away from it in the morning. 



1 comment:

  1. It makes for excellent reading, for my part. I'd sure like to be out there myself. But, literally, getting out of my chair a few times a month to do shopping... So, keep up the stories. I particularly liked the notion of instinct with regard to where to wait.

    As for whether you are a hero for hunting within the rules? Sure, that might not make you a hero, but it is the basis upon which heroism begins. It's a naked honesty and regard for something more than just what you want. There are things more precious than a deer in the freezer, bragging rights, or even our lives. And it isn't simply "following the rules". It is a nuance thereabouts, concerning doing the right thing with or without rules to go by. But for those weak with the force, perhaps the rules are a good place to start?

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