| Author | Message | ||
     matt carpenter (Southcats)  BOC PALADINPost Number: 164 Registered: 8-2002 Rating: N/A |
i thought it would be neat to hear some of the hunting adventures you guys have been on | ||
| Jerry Trew (Jtrew)  BOC ROYALTYPost Number: 2305 Registered: 3-2002 Rating: N/A |
My Montana hunting buddy had a friend who just couldn't seem to kill an antelope one year, so we took him out to get his antelope. His problem became apparent when we discovered that he couldn't hit the broadside of a barn--from the inside, with the doors closed. So, my buddy decided to shoot the antelope for his friend. We came up on a small herd, my buddy let loose with his 7mm magnum, and we all heard the 'splat' of the bullet hitting. My buddy opened the bolt, racked his gun, and we went over to the dead antelope. They started to field dress it, and I walked a little distance off to offload some morning coffee, when I noticed another antelope laying on the ground. My buddy's friend was already a little nervous about my buddy shooting his antelope for him, so I had to turn the knife a little. I said, "Hey Steve, I thought you only shot one time." Of course, he said that he had only shot once, and I said, "Well you've got another dead antelope over here!" I thought his buddy was going to pass out. He wouldn't even believe it at first, but on closer inspection, we decided that the bullet had gone completely through the first antelope, then cut the juglar of the second antelope behind it. The second antelope had been able to run about 75'-100' farther than the first one before it bled to death. We only had one tag, but we weren't about to leave an animal there to waste, so we dressed them both out and went home. The extra meat went to some tenants that were having a hard time making it on Social Security.  Jerry A stranger ain't nuthin' but a friend you ain't met yet. | ||
| Robert Plemmons (Rango) BOC ROYALTYPost Number: 371 Registered: 5-2002 Rating: N/A |
are we supposed to be telling truths or lies? | ||
| Bryan Shrum (Whistler) BOC PALADINPost Number: 138 Registered: 7-2002 Rating: N/A |
I don't know why, but I wrote one of these after every year I hunted in Colorado. I generally just highlighted the trip. I was stationed there 81-89 at Ft. Carson. I never hunted in my entire life until 1985. I had 3 hunting partners Jeff, Bob and Paul. This hunt was my last in Colorado, then I was reassigned to Italy. I hope it doesn't bore anyone too much. The hunt near Buena Vista, Colorado October 1988 We had been hunting in the area where we had drawn cow tags, near South Fork, Colorado. We decided to move near Buena Vista that day after the morning hunt, we got packed and were on the road by 12:00 PM. It took about 2 ½ hours to make the trip, and another hour or so to get setup. We had just enough time in the evening to do a little scouting, I had hunted here just one other time, two seasons ago. This is where I shot my very first deer, during my second hunting season. I had gone out with Bob opening morning and shot her by 7:00 AM, I remember the excitement of my first deer, and getting blooded by Jeff, but I also remember that my season was over as soon as it started. I spent the next two weeks squirrel hunting and trying to find another deer for Bob. Anyway that’s another story. While we were out scouting we saw a pretty good number of deer, but it was too late to do any shooting. So we decided to return to this part of the valley in the morning. We were camped in a small primitive campground that was right next to the road. The road went on to cross the pass at 11,000 feet about 3 miles farther up. We were right amongst the collegiate peaks and it was definitely a beautiful place. The peaks looked so close you could touch them. Right along side of the campground was a mountain stream, that you could almost freeze sodas in, and the trout were big and plentiful. These kinds of things are what make people come here and never want to leave. If you went across the stream and began climbing you would soon be on top of a 13,000 ft mountain, of course you would have to be a pretty skilled rock climber. Some of the cliffs up there were straight up and down for more than 500 feet. We were ten miles out of Buena Vista, and the people there were some of the friendliest I had ever been around. My friend Bob had shot a small cow elk the day before we moved, the small elk weighed about 450 lbs. We stored Bob’s elk in a small store’s meat locker, and they didn’t even charge him anything. In the morning we were up at 4:00 AM, all you had to do to get yourself alert was step out into the 10 degree air. It had been snowing most of the night, and then cleared up and that made for very cold air. Not only could you see your breath, you could hear it crackle the air. After we had breakfast, Jeff and I paired up and left for the spot we had picked to hunt. We parked on the side of the road and started walking, within about 30 minutes it was light enough to see, and we started hunting. We had gone about a half a mile when Jeff lifted his hand, meaning he had a deer in sight. He looked at me and motioned for me to come closer to where he was(this was very much against the rules). I knew whatever he was seeing had to be spectacular, or he wouldn’t have done any of this. My heart was racing along at about mach 1. When I got to the little ditch he was standing in, I looked and couldn’t believe my eyes. There on a path going up the hill, were probably 50 to 75 deer. I had never seen so many in one spot before! Jeff and I backed down into the ditch and quickly talked about what we were going to do. He suggested that I stay here and he would crawl down the ditch and get behind a small boulder to our right side. We agreed that if he hadn’t shot within 2 minutes, then I would pick the biggest deer I saw and shoot her. After he left, I started watching my watch. When 2 minutes were up, I peeked up over the lip of the ditch and started looking for a big deer. I picked out 2 trees that were about 3 feet apart where the deer seemed to be stopping, and waited another few seconds. I had picked out a big doe, and she was almost to the 2 trees. It had probably been about 2 more minutes now, so I took aim and when she bracketed herself between the trees, I fired. I saw her bolt and run up and over the hilltop. When I fired, all those deer looked like an ant hill someone had just poured gas on. They went everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Some of them just stood there, while most of them took off on a dead run. I even saw one jump right over Jeff. I had heard his shot almost at the same instant as mine. When we stood up, there was only one deer on the ground, his. I was so upset that I sat on a stump and said that’s it, I give up. This would be 2 deer in 2 years I had wounded, and I vowed never to do it again. Jeff was field dressing his deer and said that mine may have run just up the hill and died, but I had already looked and figured that I would wait for him, this would give the deer time to lay down. When he was done, he went around the hill and I started back up the hill again, and there she was. She had only ran about 50 yards, I had been looking in the wrong direction and too far down the trail. I knew she would weigh more that 200 lbs, and she did. When we got her to the butcher in Colorado Springs, she weighed 247 lbs. That is probably the biggest deer I will ever shoot. We stayed for two more days waiting for Paul to get his doe, which he did. When we got back to Colorado Springs we had 4 deer and 2 elk. Not bad for a week’s hunting. Every year while getting ready to hunt here in TN, I end up thinking about this place. I guess this place was the special one for me, it's where I got my first deer, and learned how to hunt mule deer. (Message edited by whistler on October 1, 2002) | ||
| matt carpenter (Southcats) BOC PALADINPost Number: 165 Registered: 8-2002 Rating: N/A |
great story whistler thanks for sharing it that place sounds so nice an they way you described it i can almost see it | ||
| Bryan Shrum (Whistler) BOC PALADINPost Number: 143 Registered: 7-2002 Rating: N/A |
That's a good story Mike. I think what keeps me going every year is the fun of getting out there with friends and having a good time. I don't mean just fun, I mean a forget the world, house, kids, work, school, bills good time. In the treestand with no sirens, booming car amps, traffic sound is just rejuvenating to me. Getting the meat is the reward for all the planning and scouting. Each and every trip to the woods for me is special. I feel the same way about fishing. Being with friends and doing something you love so much is priceless. Just how I feel about it. Bryan | ||
| matt carpenter (Southcats) BOC ROYALTYPost Number: 176 Registered: 8-2002 Rating: N/A |
it was opening day of bow season 5 am in the morning my first time ever hunting with a bow im all excited i couldnt wait to get out the door but my dad insited on us waiting till it got a little lighter well after he drank what seemed like 30 cups of coffee we were headed down the road we got 2 miles down the road an THUD!! i wasnt sure what it was at first until my dad stoped an got out of the truck an there was a nice 8 pointer laying there i thought the day was over from there but the truck was still running so my dad insisted on dropping me off at my stand an taking the deer back home to hang. well i finally get into my stand an its cold real cold around 10 degrees i sat in my stand until i couldnt bare it anymore even with all those cloths on i was still froze mostly my feet so i decided to walk around stop a little an walk some more i came upon a little nole next to a bunch of acorns an decided to rest i got really comfortable TOO comfortable i was sitting indian style next to a tree watching squrilles off to my left when i caught movement out of the corner of my eye coming from the other way sure enough it was a deer a buck even i thought.He would walkstp look around im still indian style so i am gradually getting up trying pick up my bow that i set down next to me well what seemed like hours was minutes an i was to my feet with bow in hand an the buck was close like 10 feet from me behind a tree so i drew back an waited he came walkin out an i let one zip right thru him he reared up an then walked off slowly wow what a rush that went thru my body i went back to the road an waited to see where my dad was figuring i would give the deer some time to lay down thinking i got a bad shot well i waited 20 min an my dad drove up he was upset that i didnt stay in my stand the adrenalin was still runnin thru me an i was talking a mile a minute finally i got the words out i shot a buck so we went off to where i shot it to track it my dad told me the blood looked good cause all the bright blood an bubbles it just looked frozen to me after 75 yards there layed my first deer with my bow a nice 6 point buck after i field dressed it an drug it back to where i shot my dad told me he shot a buck 10 years before at the same exact tree an was also his first deer. | ||
| Bryan Shrum (Whistler) BOC PALADINPost Number: 146 Registered: 7-2002 Rating: N/A |
Getting that first deer with a gun is definately exciting. I'll bet that getting the first one with a bow is heart attack material! That was a good story, I think I'm gonna take up bowhunting! Bryan | ||
| H D Burgess (Knothead) BOC ROYALTYPost Number: 233 Registered: 2-2002 Rating: N/A |
Great story Southcats Knothead | ||
| Bryan Shrum (Whistler) BOC ROYALTYPost Number: 219 Registered: 7-2002 Rating: N/A |
Here is another one of these stories I used to write when I got back from hunting. I have to type these things up each time because I didn’t have any clue about computers back then. The original was written in third person, but I thought this would be better. I hope it’s not too boring. The Del Norte Hunt As we neared the old log, we decided to take a break. We had been walking since sun-up and it was now 9:30 AM. We had seen only two does and a spike elk. Both does within a few minutes of where we had parked, and the elk about a half mile in. We were very near treeline on the peak and could feel that oxygen was at a premium up here. Last year in a meadow near this very spot, I had seen and taken a shot at a big cow elk. But for whatever reason, I missed. This was Del Norte peak, and it topped out at 12,400 feet. We were very near treeline where we intended hunt the remainder of the day because it is full of grassy meadows, and the elk seemed to like it up here. The terrain up here was not all that bad, but you had to have a good sense of direction, or know how to read a compass to keep yourself from getting turned around (lost!). The forest coming up was thick pines, with scattered aspen stands, and was crossed by just two small old logging roads. As with any still hunt, we had taken about 3 hours to come this far, probably no more than a mile or so walking distance. We had seen many elk tracks and a few fresh wallows as we had come through the forest. The pesky little pine squirrels were out in force as usual, but hadn’t been too much of a bother today. We weren’t far from where the trees gave way to pulverized granite, we had been here before and were looking forward to the view from the top. Even if we didn’t take an animal, the whole trip was worth while because of the view. From the top you could see about 30 miles down the valley (on a clear day). The peak where we were headed overlooked the towns of South Fork and Del Norte, which were down at about 8,000 ft. but looked much farther from up here. We had been hunting for three days now, and had seen nothing but a bunch of does. We hunted the day before at the upper end of Park Pass, a saddle between two small peaks that was nothing but a long series of parks(meadows). Bob and Paul had decided to try again today, but we wanted to hunt this peak. When we were finished with our break, we looked at the map to decide which way would be the best to get to the top, and also continue the hunt. If we went a little more to the east, we would come to a stretch of meadows that would take us straight to the top, and also give us a reasonably good chance of seeing an elk or buck mule deer. That is what we decided to do, and set off again. We had taught each other about still hunting over the past 4 years, Jeff had been hunting a couple of years longer than me, so he was really the teacher. Last year, I had finally started to feel confident in my still hunting skills, when I walked right up to a big doe that was bedded. The doe looked like she was gonna have a heart attack when she realized she wasn’t alone. As we walked, we would take 2 to 3 steps and stop, listen, glass the entire area and move on. All movement was deliberate and slow, that way you never drew any attention to yourself. We would always be at least within sight of each other and only used hand signals to communicate. We would move up to one of the meadows and approach it very slowly, taking probably 15 to 20 minutes to move the final 30 yards to the edge. Always, we would stop to look just before we actually got to the edge, and we never crossed in the open. We would go completely around the meadow. We would find a tree or some other unique thing on the other side and move around the meadow until we reached it so our direction of travel would be the same once on the other side. As we approached the meadow ahead, Jeff slowly pointed three fingers to the ground, meaning he saw an animal ahead, but hadn’t identified it yet, he probably just saw fur or movement. He was probably 30 yards to my right through the trees. I watched as he moved from tree to tree without making a sound. This time he pointed his hand toward the sky and extended four fingers. This meant that the animal was a legal bull elk, and that he was going to try and get a shot at him. He moved forward for what seem like an hour, but was probably only a couple of minutes. When he was close enough to the edge, he knelt down and took aim. He hesitated a second,looked at me and showed two fingers and then pointed toward the meadow, this meant that there was more than one elk and he would wait for me to move up if I wanted to, but I pointed my forefinger at him, meaning to go ahead and take the shot. I had a very limited view of the meadow and couldn’t see anything through the trees. I got ready and was prepared to shoot if a legal animal went anywhere other than between us. Jeff was sighted in on the elk now, and gave a quick nod of his head to indicate he was going to fire. We had talked about this scenario a hundred times, and now it was going off like a charm. The gun fired, Jeff bolted the rifle and was aiming again, then lowered his gun and stood up. He slowly started to move toward the open meadow, and so did I. When I reached the edge of the meadow, I could see that the elk was down about 70 yards away. The elk was not dead, but could only lift his head a little every couple of seconds. Jeff put him out of his misery, looked at me and let out a scream that would have woke the dead. He was so excited that he started hopping around like rabbit with it’s tail on fire. It was his first bull, and he was a nice 4 X 4. Now came the hard part. A deer shot this far from the road is just a carry out or long drag. An elk this far away was work, very hard work, especially in the thin air at this elevation. Even a small elk could weigh over 300 lbs, and this one looked to be double that or more. At least it was all downhill. As Jeff field dressed the elk, I started looking for a suitable log to make a yoke out of. It would take us the rest of the day to get the animal back to the truck and hung in a tree. We had come only about 2 miles or so, but with a 600 to 800 lb dead animal along, that was a long 2 miles. When we finally got back to camp it was pitch dark outside, Bob and Paul had started the fire and cooked dinner. When they saw what was in the back of the pickup, they took over and hung the animal up. Every year we split evenly all the animals we harvest, that way no one gets skunked. So everyone worked together when an animal was taken. This was a very memorable hunt for me. I never did get to shoot a big elk, but I enjoyed every minute of these trips. The clear air, the rugged mountains and just the friendship and comraderie that you feel while you're there is an incomparable feeling. The campfires, BSing, teasing each other about the crazy stuff we did or saw, eating tenderloins cooked over an open wood fire, just all of it makes for memories you just never forget. Bryan |
