Youth Opener 2010

Thursday and Friday of last week marked the very first Youth Deer Hunt in the state of Montana. I was able to take Jayden to a small place on the Upper Smith River to do some creeping around for critters.

We arrived in the dark to the sounds of bugling elk at the edge of the alfalfa field. The bugling continued as we settled into our make shift ground blind. Jayden had never heard an actual elk bugle and hearing one so close was an amazing experience for both of us.

The morning light became brighter and it was apparent that we had missed the exodus from the field by about 500 yards. The steady stream of does through the binoculars forced us to get up and try to sneak a little closer, but, as you well know, it is extremely difficult to sneak up on a white tail doe in the open.

We saw a lot of white flags bound away as we neared closer. One small doe stayed and offered Jayden a parting shot. This parting shot promptly cleared the field of all stragglers and ended our hunt on the alfalfa field.

We then dejectedly hiked over the hill to a rock outcrop that over looks another field of grass. We knew there would not be as many deer on the next field, but our chances were still okay. As we sat on the outcrop overlooking the field and the river, two bucks immediately below us had all that they could take and bolted through the river to the other side. The bucks stopped and looked back at about two hundred yards away and Jayden touched one off.

The bullet must have grazed the latter of the two bucks; it jumped and ran across an open field. We watched him run across the field to the other side and look back. We were able to seem him stop and then bed down, and I thought we had him.

I looked at Jayden and said, “We have to go after him.” She looked at me in disbelief because this would require crossing the Smith River. We found the best spot we could and started across. It was freezing! The look on Jayden’s face was priceless.

We reached the other side and wrung out our socks. When the laughing and wringing was over we started our circle to get behind the buck. Amazingly we were able to circle around behind him and find him bedded on the edge of the field about two hundred yards away. He could see us, but did not move and Jayden tried another shot. It sounded good, but obviously a clear miss, because he ran back to where he had come from with no apparent problem.

Thinking it was over, but not knowing for sure we headed back to where we had crossed the creek. As we came over the small ridge before the creek bed, we spotted him again just 70 yards away, his head peering over the small pucker brush. Jayden once again tried to get set for a shot, but he ran into the willows before she could get set.

I decided to do a makeshift drive for Jayden through the small willow thicket. After setting Jayden up with just the safety on, I grabbed a stick and started to circle around and beat the brush. I was singing, “Here deery deery,” which Jayden obviously found amusing. She later told me she was trying not to laugh out loud after hearing her Dad in the bushes. When I got close to where I thought the deer was I hollered to Jayden, Take your safety off and get ready, but don’t shoot me!” As soon as I said this, the deer stood up and took off directly to where Jayden was sitting. I kept waiting to hear her 30-30 bang………..The deer was just standing in front of her. It then began to run again and finally she fired. I watched her shoot three times which never connected on the running deer. She jacked her final shell in and I yelled, “Wait that’s your last shot!”

I climbed back up the small hill to her location and asked what happened? “My safety was stuck,” she said. When she showed me what she had done we had a laugh. She had let the hammer down and then tried to take it off safety. This of course does not work and this was her dilemma as she watched the buck stand 70 yards away while she fiddled with her rifle. Just as she figured it out it ran. Bummer!

To make a long story short she watched where the buck had stopped, but she only had one bullet left. I hiked back to the truck as she continued to watch the area. This hike included one more trip across the river, cold! I made it back to her in short order and as we walked to the area we saw him stop, and he stood again. It happened quickly, but she got one more shot off as he crossed the river back to where the truck was.

We trudged across the river one more time to check for blood. We found a little, but not enough for a fatal hit. This last time the deer ran like the wind and never looked back. I’m sure tonight he is licking his wounds and counting his lucky stars.

Jayden learned a ton on this trip, not the least was how to operate her rifle properly! She also learned to give every effort to recover a deer you might have hit and we both learned you don’t have to bring something home to have an awesome time.

We had a blast over the last two days and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Thanks Jayden for being an awesome hunting partner. I can’t wait until next time.

Dad

New Country

It’s amazing how fast September comes and goes every year. There is no doubt it is the best time to be in the woods, but each year the priorities are stacked against me. Family, school starting, always work and all the little chores that have been neglected over the summer.When does a guy have time to hunt?

2010 would be different though; new job, tons of vacation time and a whole week off just before the peak of the rut. Things were looking good!

I was able to take Labor Day off and take Cooper up to the top of Little Hellgate. We had been in there earlier that summer and seen elk. This trip there were no elk, but the campfire was great! Cooper is quite the hiker, I can barely keep up. This year he received his own grunt tube and cow call. Next year, I’ll have some competition.

The very next Saturday on September 11, 2010 was a busy weekend. Cooper had football that morning and Heather had planned a garage sale with our friends the Christensons. Friday night was spent loading the truck several times in the dark and packing all the crud from our garage to their garage. My job was done, now I can hunt.

The next morning I woke up early and drove to Nunya Creek (2). I had never been there before and I considered this a scouting trip; "I’ll be home this afternoon", I told Heather. The hiking was surprisingly easy and the country looked great, open timbered rolling ridges with northern slopes for all the elk to bed.

I had hiked for about an hour after sunlight when I heard the first bugle. I hurriedly hiked towards him for the next ten minutes before spotting a spike bull. He had spotted me as well, but amazingly after a twenty minute stare down, he gave up and went back to feeding. I was able to creep forward another 200 yards before spotting a cow. I then realized that I had crept up next to the herd, mostly undetected.

One toot on the cow call and I was able to locate the bull, just over the lip of the rolling slope. The rest of the herd started to move closer to me. The little spike bull was back and three cows. There was a slight breeze blowing towards me and one of the cows continued to feed within four yards of me before skidding to a stop and staring me down. She bolted out twenty or thirty yards, but then continued feeding. Amazing!

Her bolting changed the direction of the herd. They were too close for me to move, so I held tight in hopes of getting a shot at the bull. All I saw were the tips of his antlers through the trees. Then without any fanfare they melted into the trees, gone.

I slowly got up and moved another 100 yards mostly in the opposite direction in which they were last traveling. I sat down and began dejectedly writing Heather a text to let her know I was a knuckle head and would be home early. (I know, texting my wife on the top of a mountain while hunting? What is the world coming to?) Nearly half way through the text I looked up and again saw the spike bull 20 yards in front of me. He was watching me punch numbers into the phone! We again had another 20 minute stare down before he lost interest. His head went behind a tree and I knocked another arrow. This time the herd bull was coming. He walked straight at the spike with his head lowered and herded the spike away from his girls. He turned and offered me a shot at what I thought was about 45 yards. I released and watched the arrow travel a straight line towards his boiler, but the arrow never dropped. He was on quite a slope and I should have shot for 35 yards instead and the arrow sailed about an inch above his back.

Aggghhhh! That miss was painful. The herd eventually sounded like buffalo running down the drainage and I did start heading back to the truck.

I had made it about 15 minutes from the painful miss when I hit a saddle where three ridges converged. Out of desperation I gave a bugle. Another bull answered and I saw him within seconds. He ran across the open saddle directly at me. I had time to knock an arrow and grab a tree. He stopped short at about 100 yards and circled to my left and downwind. It was just too open, he knew he should have seen me and when he got my scent he was gone.

Two bulls within 20 minutes of each other what an awesome morning! I continued down the ridge and back to the truck. At this point it was nearly noon and I knew the morning hunt was over. The rain gutters needed fixing all summer. This afternoon would be a good time to get that done.

One more bugle for the road….

I launched a parting bugle down into the dark drainage, wishing that I could stay for the evening hunt. I got out my sandwich and started to eat as I walked. A moment later there was a whistling answer from below in the drainage.

The truck was at the bottom of this drainage where it connected to the forest road. It would be harder hiking than the ridge, but I might as well try for the bull. He was, after all, on the way to the truck.

I dumped off the south facing talice slope down into the bottom. The bull was still farther down the drainage, so I entered the timber of the North slope to come down on him from above. I bugled one more time to locate him and then went in silently, just cow calling now and then. When I reached the small finger ridge in the dark timber of the North slope, I stopped about 30 yards from the crest.

He was close, probably within 100 yards. I cow called, no answer. I bugled and he busted loose just over the small ridge. My arrow was knocked as his antlers appeared over the hill and I drew my bow. He crested the top and stopped his vitals behind a small tree. I held my draw as he bugled and then looked down. I dropped my arm and readjusted my feet so the tree was not in the way.

His head was still down as I drew for the second time. As he lifted his head my pin settled just behind his shoulder. Before I knew it the arrow was gone and so was he, running wildly down the hill.

What had just happened? It was all so fast I didn’t see the arrow hit. I sat down and tried not to let the shakes get the best of me. I looked at my watch, 1:30 PM. After a little wait I went to find the arrow. I didn’t find the arrow, but I eventually found a blood trail that led to a stinky bull elk on the other end.

It was all over, but the packing and storytelling after that. Thanks again to Ryan and Kenny for helping and to their good wives who let them out of the house to help their no good cousin pack out a stinky elk. Without your help it would have made for a long weekend.

Cooper now thinks that he is my good/bad luck charm. I have only hunted elk four days in the last two years. He has been with me twice, neither time did we see elk. The other two times I lucked out and stuck one. Next year he can pack a bow and it will be his turn.

Thanks again to Ryan for this site. It’s fun to check out. Sorry my story was so long. Happy hunting!

Jared