Lay Family Hunting

Rolling in does

2010-12-02T20:54:00.000-08:00

It was a fruitful year for our little family. Despite the apparent lack of horn soup, we are feeling VERY blessed this hunting season. Doe #1
For the specific purposes of taking Isaac and making sure we have meat in the freezer, I applied for a doe tag for area 423. I was able to get out with Isaac once in October to the State Section off of Highway 434, West of Wolf Creek. We hiked all the way along the ridge but found only two does that were just off the section on the Dearborn Ranch. We made a second attempt a couple weeks later with the whole family in the car, but had the same results (I wandered around and found nothing while they drove around and saw numberous deer on the Dearborn property). The Friday before Thanksgiving I decided it was too late to come home empty handed again and too cold to take Isaac so I set out on my own. I left town about 10:30 a.m. and went to the State Section lying just North of the Dearborn River on Highway 287. On the way there I did see the nice buck shown in the photos below on the Dearborn Ranch (of course). On this hunt, I was only hunting to fill my mule deer doe tag. It was my first experience on this particular section. I parked my minivan on the side of the road near the North end of the section. I walked west to the edge of the first big draw and turned south following the top of the draw. As I approached the fenceline on the south end of the section I spotted three does just on the other side of the fence. I hoped that there were others on the legal side of the fence, but could not move any closer without spooking the three does. I backed out and crawled into a small gulley. I went down to the fence line out of sight of the deer and then crawled on my knees for about the last 75 yards until I could see three more deer that were actually on the legal side of the fence. I spent about 5 minutes trying to decide which one to shoot. I didn't want to get a fawn. I was forced out of my indecision by three does that suddenly appeared about 10 yards to my left (on the wrong side of the fence). They busted me and began leaving the country. As they did, the legal deer were alerted and started to move. I quickly picked one and shot. (about 80-100 yards). I saw her jump and quickly go out of sight behind a hill. I ran up looking for her to be trailing the other deer. There was one lagging behind the group and for a second I considered taking a shot at her. I wasn't very confident about my off-hand shot, but didn't want to end up with two deer down. So since I couldn't see any blood on or around her, I let her go over the hill with the other deer. That turned out to be a very good decision as I shortly thereafter found my doe piled up in the bottom of the draw. I had mad a good hit and she had only gone about 10 yards. She was a good size doe and I felt VERY blessed. We have enjoyed a lot of jerky and have some good roasts in the freezer.
Here are some pics from this first successful trip.
These first ones are of a big buck I saw from the road while driving in. He was coming my way (towards the road) but I decided not to wait for him to get closer. My camera ended up running out of batter later that day, just before I shot the doe . For a little camera comparison I am including photos of two different bucks. The first three pics are the same buck. I took these pics with my good zoom lens from about 350-400 yards away (In the first, I am zoomed in all the way). They are not great shots, but its fun to be able to zoom like that. The close ones are simply the same (or similar) images of the photo that have been cropped in close to the buck. The fourth image is of a similar sized buck that I took with my cell phone on the way home. He was about 25 yards from me when I took the shot. I was really wishing I had remembered to charge my extra battery when he came walking along so close. The next picture is of my doe on top of my hunting vehicle (not a 4WD, but we are considering having that added and buying some big meaty tires). The last one is me at home.

Doe #2

Seeing how quickly we were going through jerky from Doe #1 we decided I better make sure we had enough to get through the winter. On Saturday after Thanksgiving I called Grandpa Lay and he got permission for me to go with him on the Boulder River and try to get a whitetail with my rifle. It was a fairly warm day and Isaac wanted to come, so we went together. We got there about 3:00 in the afternoon and walked in to the treestand. When we got there I cleared the snow and brush away from the ground under the tree and laid a blue fleece blanket down. I put my seat cushion on top of that and Isaac sat down. I handed him my ipod and put another camo fleece blanket on top of him. He promised to be very still and quiet and I climbed the tree to the stand with my gun. Isaac did awesome! He didn't hardly make a noise or stir for a little over an hour. He didn't stand up or talk until my gun went off. After about 1/2 hour in the stand I saw about 6 deer come out about 200 yards away through the trees. I passed on two opportunities for questionable shots. Another 15 minutes later, the deer came back and approached my stand from another direction. When the lead doe walked into the open at about 60 yards I made a good one shot kill. She dropped right there. Dad called when he heard the shot to see if I got one. Apparently, shortly after we hung up from that call he had a good buck and 4 does come under his stand. He made a good shot on the buck at 40 yards, but the buck was on high alert and jumped the string. Dad said that the buck wasn't even there anymore when the arrow arrived. Meanwhile I climbed down out of the tree and Isaac and I went over and cleaned out my second doe of the year. Grandpa came over after dark and helped us drag it back to the car. Isaac was a great little helper and walked all the way back to the truck.
It was really a fun day to be there with both my Dad and my son. The freezer is full and as stated above, we are feeling very blessed this season.

This is a cell phone photo I took from in the tree stand. Isaac is at the base of the tree to my right, under the camo blanket.

Here is the little man with the doe.

It has been really fun this year and it has made me realize how much more there is to hunting than just walking your behind off looking for large animals. The little ones are also A LOT of fun and fill the freezer very well. Also, the family experiences are much more important than just the hunting. Next year I will again chase the big bucks, but I also plan on filling another couple doe tags.

--Ryan

Youth Opener 2010

2010-10-24T17:27:00.001-07:00

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

2010-10-21T20:34:00.000-07:00

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

September Bugles

2010-09-25T22:12:00.000-07:00

Today I was able to get out and go hunting elk with Dad. We left early in the morning and went up Little Blackfoot past Kading Campground. We left the truck and hiked for about an hour up a really steep draw before we got to the good hunting ground. Once there it didn't take long and we started hearing some bugling. We worked our way closer to the noise and started making some of our own. The bottom was 50-75 yards wide and then steep up both sides. I moved out in front of Dad about 100 yards and he started calling. We stayed in that set up bugling with the elk for about 15 minutes and despite lots of answers to the cow calls and bugles, nothing seemed to move closer to us. We both thought it sounded like there were three bulls ahead of us up the draw. The one that sounded furthest away sounded the most heated up. We moved forward another 100 yards and tried again. Again, they kept bugling, but would not move in. We moved another time and all became silent. Then, of course, we decided to see what the top of the mountian looked like. We hiked in a big circle around the area and came back to where we started. We saw lots of sign, but no more elk. We found a really well used, stomped out wallow, but it was in a really tough spot to get to, so I doubt a tree stand will be going up any time soon.

We stopped for lunch about 1:00 and Dad remembered that he had dropped his whitetail grunt call (the little can) sometime earlier in the day. I am pretty sure that we witnessed a miracle, because it could have been anywhere on that timbered, brushy, steep hillside and we were able to find it in the trail without back tracking too far.

Even though we didn't see any elk, it was really a fun morning. Dad and I were both pretty confident that we could get one of those bulls to come down and check us out. I guess we don't sound as attractive as we look (ha ha).

I had Dad drop me at home in the afternoon so that Celeste could watch Women's Conference. Dad went on to Boulder to hunt whitetails. I talked to him tonight. He said he had elk bugling all around him for most of the afternoon and evening but nothing would come in to his stand. He did have 3 little whitetail bucks walk by, but he opted to pass on all three.

It was a fun day. Hopefully we'll be able to get out again soon. Thanks for the fun, Dad.

Fishing

2009-10-19T21:18:00.000-07:00

FISHING

Lake, River, Stream, Brook
Obtaining counts not
Only preparing and doing

Excites, calms, refreshes
Nerves, thoughts, worries
Go deep, some temporarily forgotten

Lulled, pacified, erased
Concentration of thought
One object in mind

How big will the next one be?

Author:
David Lay
7/27/1997

We spent the month of June this year vacationing in Alaska. One particular fishing trip was really a lot of fun as we went deep sea fishing out of Seward, Alaska with some good friends of ours that we have known since we lived in Anchorage 40 years ago. We went out in the ocean approximately 30 miles on a calm beautiful day. We found a good spot about 70 or 80 feet deep and started getting a few halibut but when we moved to deeper water (over 200 feet) we really got into them. Sometimes we all had fish on at the same time. None were giants but most ran close to 25 or 30 lbs. each. We took our grandson Randy with us and as you can tell by the picture we all really enjoyed the experience.

According to the way this old man thinks, fishing is fun just like hunting but not as much work.

Dave

Dry Creek '09

2009-10-11T20:49:00.000-07:00

It has been a long six months of travel this work season, and not being sure of my schedule, I was ill prepared for the archery season. But, as with all things in life, you must have priorities. Consequently, on September 26, 2009 I found myself on an unfamiliar mountainside with bow in hand and enjoying my first full day of bow season.

Much of the day was spent hiking and learning the territory. I had been in the vicinity before, but five miles away. I had spent most of the day hiking and trying to spot a large muley buck. My permit is for area 390 and it holds some good deer, but my spot and stalk day was cut short, mostly because I had no binoculars, nor my spotting scope. I have since unpacked that box and plan to resume my muley quest, but I digress.

The lack of long range vision caused me to walk farther and bugle more. By the end of the day, I had only seen three black angus cows, they looked tasty and tempting, but I passed. Jayden had a volleyball game later that night, so around 5:30 pm, I started hiking back down the mountain.

I was nearing half way to the vehicle by about 6:15 pm when I heard his first bugle coming from the ridge I was on 45 minutes earlier. I sat and pondered on how much I wanted to shoot a bull; stupidity got the best of me and I started back up to the top.

We quickly met each other about two hundred yards below the top of the ridge and proceeded to cow talk and intermittently bugle at each other. At one point he went quiet and I thought that he had boogied, but he apparently was content just knowing I was there. It was nearing 7:15 and getting close to the end of shooting light. I got as close as I could and tried to figure out the direction that he was headed. This was quickly sumized and I got myself in position for a shot.

He crossed in front of me and I cow called to stop him, this was good because he stopped, but it allowed him to peg my position. I was already at full draw, and when I released he jumped the string and the arrow hit him in a less than perfect spot.

Although he knew my location, he was still confused, and only walked about 50 yards further while I cow called to him until it was dark. Just before the last light I watched him wobble as he bedded down. Knowing that my shot was not the greatest, I decided to give him some time and as I crept out of the area, continuing to cow call in hopes of keeping him calm and in the same location.

As soon as possible the next morning, I headed up the hill. Nearing the area, I again cow called, not really knowing the bull’s location or condition. Just as I was about to crest the rise where the bull would be located, a small black bear popped over the hill about 50 yards away. He was upwind of me and could not figure out what I was. Three rocks, and many shouts later, he finally decided that it was not worth it to hang around any longer and he slowly sauntered off.

Topping the ridge, I found the bull in the same bed that I had left him, but not yet stiff, and none of the meat gone bad. He died just as the pictures show him, and no posing was necessary. My father in law, Dean Powers, Ken Lay, and Boyd Burnett helped me get him off the mountain. My thanks to them and to Ryan Lay, who started the phone tree of people to help.

Jared

So as I was walking down the big ridge...

2009-09-22T05:51:00.000-07:00

Dad and I went up to Bull Creek last Thurs/Fri and had a good time. We hunted the Rocky Basin on Thursday morning, saw some/an elk at about 200-ish yards, and heard him raking his antlers on a tree. We got set up and cow called, but I'm pretty sure he just circled in down wind and got our scent and spooked. Then Thursday afternoon I went way down into the bottom of the Big basin and hunted around. Heard one bugle and went way down the stream. I think I spotted a bear or cougar den or something, but I only glassed it from across the canyon. (didn't want to walk right up and say hello to a grizzly) Then on Friday morning I was walking down the big ridge in between the tip top of the mountain and the point where we walk into the rocky basin. As I was walking along I noticed a dark grey stone amid all the tanish/yellowish stones and soil that are naturaly up there. I bent over and picked it up and sure enough I found an old Native American spear point (or something, whatever it is/was). I think it's pretty cool. Take a look.
Russ Lay

2009-05-29T11:45:00.000-07:00

Hey there Folks
Just want you all to know that I'm going to get a really nice mule deer buck up at Bull Creek this fall. 281-40 that's what it's all about.

.....and that I'm probably going to shoot an elk with my bow too. No high falooting 380 permit needed.

Love you all

Russ Lay

Who's your Daddy?

2009-01-21T11:47:00.000-08:00

Dad once again shows us all up by going out and catching the biggest fish.

You the man Dad

Becoming a Mountain Man

2009-01-16T11:47:00.000-08:00

So I'm in the middle of tanning a couple of deer hides with a friend and it's kind of cool. I'm not sure I want to become a full fledged mountain man, but I'd like to make a buckskin shirt and some leggings. I'll need to do about 4 more deer to get enough hide to make all that stuff, but I'm ok with getting there little by little. Making a buckskin takes a grotesque ammount of effort, but the result will hopefully be kind of cool. I"ll keep you posted on how the hide turns out. So far I've got both hides scraped clean, inside and out, so worst case even if I bail at this point I'll still have some rawhide to play with.

Russ Lay

Wet and Wild Doe Hunt

2008-12-02T10:47:00.000-08:00

Well, these hard economic times made me think I better get an animal in the freezer. Plus, Russell's enthusiasm can be persuasive. (I don't think Bull Creek is in my near future, though. Sorry, Russ.) Yes, this Californian went hunting. Russell thought it would be fun to go get some does on a ranch about 10 miles south of Ulm. He asked after the BYU-Utah game if I wanted to go the next Tuesday. The way he made it sound I thought it would be an afternoon hunt. But Monday afternoon rolls around and he finally calls and asks if I can meet him in Ulm at 6 am with waders. So Monday was a scramble to get a tag, a gun, and waders, not to mention the rest of my gear together. I managed to get it all, but only one set of waders.

I met Russ the next morning and we made our way to the ranch. The landowner then gave us a very rough description of the property. We thought we could handle it and proceeded to walk out toward her meadows. Almost immediately we spooked two whitetail does, and not having a good handle on how Ryan's gun worked (bytheway, thanks for the gun use, Ryan), I couldn't get the safety off in time to even try at a running shot just as it was getting shooting light. We then moved on, spooking a few more but getting a good idea of where they went. We then saw a whitetail paying little attention to us, just feeding and making its way to the Smith River for a drink and swim. I could have had a good shot at HIM, but couldn't (no shooting antlered deer as per landowner request). So we ignored him as he went back into the trees.

As we worked our way to the river crossing (still hoping one pair of waders would do it) we saw another deer on our side of the river and we got down and crawled, slid, grunted and worked our way to get closer. As we lined up on it, sure enough, a buck. A small 2-point; probably the same one as earlier. He knew he wasn't going to get shot, so even as we stood up and moved to the river he didn't pay any attention to us.

Ahhhhh, the river. There was a nice place to cross the river. It was running low and slow, but you still needed waders to get across dry. Russell put the waders on and carried the guns and his boots across. But the river was just too wide to try and toss the waders back to me. Russ got one of his great ideas and found a couple of good sticks. He took one wader off and told me to put it on and we'd "hop" across. So you know what happened next. Russ got across with just getting the tips of his toes a little wet. I got part way out, started losing my balance, and put the other foot down. I just waded across after that.

After ringing out my sock and dumping the water from my boot, we split up. I moved to stay in the brush along the river while Russ worked to scare toward me the few we saw run into the trees earlier. Russ scared them alright. Right up the side of the bluff, running away from me. But we noticed they didn't stay on top of the bluff. They moved along a bench just below the top and then mingled in with a group of mule deer. Our wind wasn't good and we'd be in the open too much to go straight at them, so we followed an old fence line up to the top of the bluff. The top was flat and open. It was easy to see why the deer wouldn't stay up there. We then followed a fence along the top trying to work our way around so our wind would be better. We saw a couple of does up on top but weren't sure if they were on "our" property. We moved to get around to where we'd seen the deer before and up out of a coulee, a mule deer doe, 2 fauns, and a whitetail faun popped up and two whitetail does hightailed it out of there and across the river. At about 200-250 yards, we could have had that doe easy. But we were unsure again as to boundaries. We sat down, called Ryan, talked it out, took a doze, while that doe just watched us, standing pretty. We decided we better not shoot her. After she disappeared into the coulee again, we moved on, unsure of what was next. At least my leg and foot had dried out by this time.

As we rounded down off the bluff onto the bench we saw at least two groups of mule deer along the bench, back the way we'd come. We decided that I would sneak around by going back up on the bluff then come down slow and move them back toward Russ. As I moved along I thought I was near where I needed to come down and ended up spooking a group up onto the bluff. I thought that had done it. I screwed that up. But I kept moving to get behind a group I thought was closer to Russ than the ones I scared. So I started moving back toward Russell.

Meanwhile, Russell thought I was doing a great job as the second group started moving his way. I think they could smell me. He just didn't want to shoot yet because as he looked through his scope, my head kept popping up right in the line of his fire. (I didn't know this, of course.) I kept wondering why he hadn't shot yet. Finally I got smart and decided I better lay back, be patient and stop moving toward him. Shortly thereafter, Russ shot. Several seconds went by and he shot again. I'd moved those deer to within 40 yards of Russ and even after his first shot, the doe ran right at him. He thought he missed the second, running shot. But he got her both times in the lungs and once in the heart. She didn't go very far.

As we went to get her we saw two does that had been with her, lingering about 100 yards away. We quickly got down and decided it was my turn. I slipped down the slope a little to get out of sight, then moved behind a bush and crawled on my belly to get right up to the bush, using it for cover. I rested the barrel on some branches of the bush and had a clean view of the two, who couldn't see me. One was lying down, the other was standing and looking my way. I just lined up on the one standing and waited for her to turn. After several minuted she did and I squeezed off my shot. Both deer took off, but I didn't think I needed a second shot. We went and looked where they'd been and I'd hit her, but there was "grass." We decided to not go look for her yet.

We went back to Russell's doe and cleaned her out. I tried to pay attention hoping to learn how it's done. Then we went looking for my doe. She left us a good trail in the grass and we quickly found her. She'd only gone about 100 yards around the edge of the ridge. I had not gut-shot her as we'd thought. I got her right through the lungs. Russ had agreed before we started to clean out my deer, but I decided I should do it. I'd paid attention to Russell on his deer and he talked me through it as he worked. He talked me through the second time with me doing the work.

The rest of the story is just dragging them out. We dragged them back to the river. Russell wore both waders this time, so I got both feet wet as we took them across, carrying them out of the water so we didn't have the additional wet fur smell to drive home with. I had been smart enough to leave a dry pair of socks and boots in the car so it wasn't too bad driving home.

We had a good time and walked quite a bit, but eventually got the job done. There's meat in the freezer. The only disappointing thing was Russell so badly wanted whitetails. He wants to do some tanning and wanted whitetails. Maybe next year Russ. Thanks for a great hunt.

Ross

Just a picture from my cell phone. But you can tell it was a pretty river bottom to spend the day in. (Russell made that vest on his own, bytheway. He's so domestic!)

2008-11-22T14:59:00.001-08:00

Here are a few pics. More to come later

And now... The rest of the Story

2008-11-18T11:34:00.000-08:00

Well Ken and I worked our tails off all day Wednesday first to get his bull to the top of the mountain and then to get the front shoulders one hind quarter and the head down the mountain to the truck. It was getting dark and we didn't feel like hiking back up the mountain so we decided to drive to Helena and get a good nights sleep on a soft warm bed, fix his truck tire, and come back up Thursday morning to pack out the last hind quarter and a sack with about 50 lb of meat. Well we weren't able to get out of Helena until about 12:30 or so, and Ken decided he was coming back to Helena once he got his elk out, so I called around and then Dad said he would come up and Thursday night and hunt with me on Friday and Saturday. Kathy decided that since Ken was comming back that evening, and she was curious about Bull Creek (never having been to our "little slice of heaven" before) to come with Ken and I up the mountain. I was really excited for Ken but feeling a twinge of desperation for myself. I left Ken and Kathy at camp and hustled up to Uncle Daves log to see if by chance anything was out in the basin. Well I had only sat at uncle dave's log for a minute or two when I noticed a little tan spot WAY WAY down in the bottom of the basin. So I put the scope on it and sure enough it was an elk! Then sure enough it was a bull elk! I couldn't tell how big the antlers were but I knew that if there was enough there that I could see them flashing from almost a mile away that he was legal to shoot. So I SPRINTED down the trail to ask Ken if he minded if I bailed on packing out his bull and went after another bull I had spotted. Ken of course was awesome and said something to the effect of "Russ I can't believe you even came to ask my permission, Hunting is what we came here to do, go get him!" So I RAN up the mountain to the top, made sure I could still see the bull and then RAN like the last of the mohicans guy down the ridge on the left side of the basin as you look down. I made it to the edge of the trees, right about above where the elk was and dropped down the face of the mountain through the spotty trees and open areas. I slowed way down once I was dropping in on him off the ridge to keep from sending a rock rolling down the hill and scare him. The wind was blowing down the basin so my wind was going at about a 90 degree angle away from him. I got about half way down between the ridge and the bottom to a rotten stump where I could lay down on my belly, and not be totally upside down, and where I could see the bull clearly through an opening in the trees. I judged the distance to be about 200 yards, but then all of the sudden I just knew that I needed to aim about 4 inches below the top of his back. I shot once and couldn't tell if I had hit him, but he was still just standing there so I quickly put in another shell and shot again. This time I could tell that I had hit him, but he still was on his feet and I didn't want to take any chances with a wounded elk getting away so I shot a third time, and with that shot he went down. I was way excited! I said a little prayer of thanks and went down to him. He was a pretty good bull!!! Ken ran down the mountain and we hugged and took some pictures. Then Ken had to get back up to Kathy, and I was left to field dress the elk. (you forget how big they are until you have one down) I got him all cleaned out, and just before I was about to leave I heard a rustling in the bushes a little ways away from where I was. Boy did that put the fear in me! I was just sure that I was going to be toe to toe with a grizzly bear in the dark. I ran up to the elk and grabbed my flashlight and the rifle. I didn't see that pair of beady yellow eyes like I thought I would, but just the same I high-tailed it back up the mountain to camp. Dad came up and spent the night and then Friday morning we packed out camp and then went down to the switchback and went in to my elk from below. Dad and I worked on getting the elk ready to pack out, and we were pretty tired from all the exertion. Then the cavalry came. Jared and Micah Christensen came out of the brush about 200 yards down the hill and helped us pack the bull out. We were stoked! I was sooooo grateful to them for the help. After we got the elk all packed out we all went down to the "Shake 'N Burger" down in Lincoln, and I treated everyone to a hamburger and a milkshake. In the end it was perhaps the best week of hunting of my life. I have a great family and now I have a great elk!

2008-11-11T11:37:00.000-08:00

Well here's the story...

OK the week started out a bit rough what with Ken and I meeting in Lincoln eight and a half hours later than originally planned, and then Ken getting a flat tire just before we got to the switchback, and having to go back to Lincoln for a jack and loosing Ken's cell phone. Actually it got kind of funny when neither of us had a watch and the battery on Ken's laptop died. Other than seeing some cool HUGE grizzly bear tracks and some mountain lion tracks, Monday the 27th was a bit of a write-off.
Tuesday morning we woke up a bit late since we didn't have any way to tell time, but we scrambled up to the top of the Rocky Basin as soon as we were concious. We didn't see anything that we couldn't resist so we just chilled at Uncle Dave's log most of the morning. After we went back to camp, Ken had to run in to Lincoln again to call Kathy, and I dropped down to the bottom of the Big Basin to my tree stand by the spring. (which by the way is probably a better bow stand than rifle stand I decided) Anyhow I had only sat in my stand about 40 minutes when I realized that I had lost both of my coats on the way down the mountain. So I decided to hike out and retrace my steps up until I found my coat and I'd just sit the rocky point that evening. Which I did, but only saw one mulie doe. I did hear some elk cow calling, but wasn't able to move on them. So I hiked out of the big basin Tuesday night in the dark, and a bit discouraged. I got to camp and the first thing I said to Ken was "Dude what in the heck are we doing here?" To which Ken replies "well Russ take a look at me." So I shined my flashlight on him and doggonit that stinker was covered in blood from head to toe!! So Ken told me the awesome story of having to drive to Lincoln and then hike his tail off to get up the mountian and just as he peeked his head over to see into the Rocky Basin there.. out in the middle of the basin was a 5-point bull elk! So he backed away took off all his pack and gear etc. and crawled out to Uncle Daves Log. He ranged the bull at 140 yards and with one shot of his lethal 270 short mag Ken had himself a nice bull elk!!

Way to go JAYDEN!

2008-11-07T09:23:00.000-08:00

Jared has reported more success from his family! Here is what he said:
Here are some pics of Jayden's 1st hunt. She was a real trooper and shot this buck from about 150 yards. It was a creative effort from the both of us to get her over the tall grass. I'll write more later for the blog.

2008-11-04T15:58:00.000-08:00

Well, here are the pics of what appears to be a very successful week at Bull Creek. Ken and Russ were really able to pull it together and make things happen! Congrats to them both. Ken shot his at the top of the rocky basin on Tuesday. Russell shot his at the bottom of the rocky basin on Thursday. I will let them fill in the details later.
Here is some additional info from Russell:
Friday, November 7, 2008
Ryan I haven't had time to write up the story of my bull yet, but here's some other tidbits of info for all concerned Lay family hunters. Just so everyone is aware I put a Mouseproof Mailbox in the cache at Bull Creek so that next year the cache will not be filled with nasty mouse-poop. Dad and I inventoried the cache up at camp, and it contains the following items. (all food items are protected inside the mailbox)
4 cans Tuna, 2 cans Salmon, 4 cans Chili, 2 cans spagetti, 1 can clam chowder, 1 can campbells soup, 1 large can Beef ravioli, 3 cup-0-noodles, 2.5 gallons drinking water (in a store sealed water jug), 2 gallons dishwater (in old gatorade jugs (from 2007 but still drinkable), 1 enamel covered steel plate, 1 plastic plate, about 50 ft of yellow nylon rope. We're kind of a bunch of rednecks aren't we?

Jared draws first blood!

2008-10-08T22:02:00.000-07:00

Well, we have our first confirmed report of blood. Here is the brief version of the story from Jared:

"I shot this deer last night (Monday) with Cooper at Nonya Creek (near Toston). The deer spooked past me, ran about 30 yards, and stopped within 5 to 8 yards of Cooper. Cooper was able to see the arrow pass through the buck when I shot. Don't worry, he was safe and out of the line of fire:)

When we got to the buck we noticed an old Zwickey broadhead with a cedar arrow that had passed through the buck's snout and stuck out the side of its face. We couldn't believe that this did not affect the deer, and he seemed to be fully functional until my arrow poked him.

It was a great experience, and having Cooper there to witness the whole thing made it even better; a hunt neither of us will ever forget."

Jared said that there appeared to be some infection inside the buck's chest cavity. He is having it looked at tomorrow to make sure it is safe to eat. Way to go Jared (and Cooper)!

Good luck to everyone else,

Ryan

Introduction

2008-10-03T22:28:00.000-07:00

Brethren,

Welcome! My wife has introduced me to the world of blogging. I thought that this would be a great forum for us to communicate, share, and save for posterity, our hunting experiences and photos. My whole life I have found myself waiting, calling and asking for you all to let me know how the hunt went that day. I guess I have never grown out of my childhood obsession. We can now do this via the internet and that way we don't actually have to talk to each other (ha ha).

Anyway, let the blogging begin!!

Well, so far this year I have bagged one new son and some permission to hunt in a couple weeks on about 6000 acres next to the Dearborn Ranch. That is all I have so far. Feel free to post pics and tell stories from years past.

Enjoy,

Ryan the BlogMaster

P.S. Here are a few of the pictures from last year's exploits. Russ, sorry I don't have any photos of your doe from last year. That was one of my favorite stories.