Favorite Pic That Brings Back a Good Memory

MattB · Apr 28, 2006

LAST EDITED ON Apr-28-06 AT 12:46PM (MST)[p]LAST EDITED ON Apr-28-06 AT 12:43?PM (MST)

Just thinking it would be cool to have a post of everyone's favorite picture (hunting or not) that brings back a memory of past times.

This photo reminds me of last years hunt. The best memories werent about getting the deer i was packing out. They were about how one of my buddies drove 300+ kilometers in a ford escort, 70-100 kms on a dirt road, 20 kms on a road a car shouldnt even be on, and then jumped in my truck for another 6kms to the trailhead. The next morning we packed into the high country 18 kms, crossed a raging river in which he dunked his $500 camera, then hunted that evening. In the morning we get up and my friend has to leave to make it to a wedding, so he packs out 24 kms, jumps in the escort and drives all the way out on the sh!tty dirt roads and makes it to the wedding!

Now thats dedicated!

This was supposed to be posted in the photography forum, could one of the mods possibly move it?

Kirby · Apr 28, 2006

LMAO, ya I still can't believe he left in the morning.

Kirby

When in doubt, floor it.

Diplomacy is the art of saying "nice doggy" until you find a big stick.

Torch · Apr 30, 2006

"MattB", great picture and story! It doesn't look like this post will be moved to the photography forum, but I thought I would respond anyways.

This is a picture that brings a lot of memories back to me. I drew a late season tag in November 2000 and spent the first three days hunting alone. I was sleeping in a wall tent and the temperature was -30F at night and for the first three days it never got above 0 degrees. On the second day of the hunt I couldn't feel my feet or fingers, because they were so cold. I tried to start a fire and was lucky enough to get one started with my last piece of TP to warm up for a bit and prevent frost bite.

On the evening of the third day of the hunt I met my dad in town so I could show him where camp was set up. He was all pumped up and ready to go, but I told him I wanted to stay in a motel and unthaw for a night. He couldn't believe I wanted to stay in town, but the next night he found out the reason I wanted to sleep in a motel room...haha.

On the evening of the fourth day I spotted a good buck bedded with some does about a half mile away. I decided to put a stalk on him while my dad watched through the spotting scope. I quickly closed the distance crawling through a foot of snow with the temperate well below zero and a good 20mph gust of wind every few minutes.

Once I got to the small sagebrush knoll that was approximately 200 yards from the buck, I slowly took my backpack off and pushed it in front of me to use as a rest for taking the shot. My backpack was made of saddle cloth and it looked and felt like a solid block of ice.(I haven't used saddle cloth since this hunt) I took my gun off my shoulder, chambered a round, and slowly rested it across my backpack. The buck was still lying there, but he was looking around and starting to get nervous.

I placed the crosshairs right behind the bucks shoulder and slowly squeezed the trigger...click! The gun didn't fire! I got up on my knee, pointed the barrel strait in the air, and opened the bolt. BOOM!! The gun fired straight in the air. The bucked jumped to his feet and started running to the top of the ridge as I jacked another shell into the chamber. He stopped just before cresting the top of the ridge and I had the crosshairs settled right on him. CLICK!! It didn't fire again. I brought the gun back to my knee with the barrel pointed straight in the air and opened the bolt. BOOM!! It fired straight in the air again! The buck had disappeared and I just shot twice straight into the air!

I made my way back down off the mountain to where my dad had been watching everything through the spotting scope. He said "didn't you want him." Apparently he couldn't hear the shots I had fired because of the wind and the fact that I had shot strait in to the air. Apparently, there was enough moisture in my bolt that it froze up and wouldn't release the firing pin until I opened the bolt.

That night, I cleaned my gun thoroughly and ended up taking a decent buck the next day. He's not a big buck, but the memories I have from the hunt will last a lifetime. As we were leaving my dad told me that he didn't want to go on a hunt that cold again, but I think he has changed his mind now that it's been a few years

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