LAST EDITED ON Oct-24-08 AT 10:42AM (MST)[p]This hunt got pushed back over a week so my pops could recover from a surgery he had 5 weeks ago. He gave us one hell of a scare and had a large mass removed from his chest. Fortunately all tested clear. What a blessing! I was really looking forward to this hunt. Dad had never been much of a big game hunter so I was eager to be the one to take him on a hunt. His success and enjoyment was to take priority over my own on this trip. Believe me, I do not take a back seat well but I was happy to do so on this hunt. It was great enjoying some QT with the old man and showing him some of the stuff I've been talking about for years.
The first morning out I noticed that I was not seeing anywhere near the amount of antelope I had in years past. My brother had mentioned the same thing when he hunted earlier during the first season in this unit in Sept. Evidently it was true. Extended drought followed by last years rough winter had apparently taken some toll. There were still enough to play with, it just wasn't going to be as easy as I thought. The second thing I noticed was that there sure seemed to be a hell of a lot more hunter traffic than I'd seen in the past. Then it dawned on me, deer season had just opened so we had those crowds to contend with. The last thing I noticed once we got on our first group on antelope was, holy crap, these things were spooky. Way more so than normal. I guess the 500 antelope hunters from the first season and the 300 hunters over the last 10 days of the second season had really educated these goats. They were like different creatures altogether from what I had seen while hunting the first season on opening day in years prior. I had a hard time even glassing them from 7-800 yards away. I could tell right away this was going to be tough. The animals had been pressured greatly and having to hunt late into the second season meant that we would be picking up the scraps, at best.
Mid morning, after a long blown stalk and a few groups that we could not get on at all we decided to move to spot number 2. As were leaving we bumped into a buck who thought he was sneaky. He was bedded down with just his antler tips visable over the sage. I think he thought he was hidden. I almost missed spotting him. Dad got ready, I whistled, he stood up and hesitated just a second too long quartering to us a bit. Dad hammered him from 130 yards. Knocked the goat over, a few kicks and it was back on its feet, ran 30 yards and tipped over for good. I almost talked Dad out of shooting him thinking we could get on a better one. We would later find out that shooting him was definitely the right move. He ended up being one of the best goats we saw on the whole trip. Call it a fluke or a dumb antelope but he also ended up being the most approachable buck we would see the whole trip too. On the pack and humped back to the truck in a few minutes. For those who care, he was right at 13", 6.5" bases and 70" gross. No monster but actually not bad at all given what we had to cope with. I certainly would have been happy with him. My turn now!
I wanted one with the bow, spot and stalk. A long shot of course, sepecially on highly pressured public land during rifle season. I gave it a go and had a couple failed stalks before we took Dad's animal into the processor and then headed to my honey hole in another part of the unit. This area is perfect for bowhunting because there is usually lots of critters and there is topography and cover for stalking. This is where my bro got his buck with his bow last month. I looked over that area for several hours and the only buck in there was a dinky 6" little guy. I was really disappointed as I was really looking forward to bowhunting this little pocket. It was not going to pan out.
I tried several more stalks in other parts of the unit but no luck. My best chance was 3 animals I glassed up at barely grey light one morning. They were way down and out in this pasture with a brushy draw running right through the middle. I could just see three antelope but it was still too dark to see what they were. I needed the cover of darkness to get into the draw so I had to hurry and take my chances one was a buck rather than waiting for light to verify. I got in there and executed a perfect 1 mile+ stalk only to pop out 42 yards from 3 does. I was hoping one would have been a buck but no luck. The look on their faces was priceless though when I popped up in their kitchen. One even dropped a clump of grass out of her mouth and gave the look of "doh!" when she saw me. I just laughed.
The next close call was when I glassed up a group of goats as I was walking back to the truck from my that long stalk. By the time I got over there and in position they had moved. I figured they had to be right in front of me as that was the only area I couldn't see. I crept up and yep, there they were. I worked around and again executed a perfect stalk to within range. As I straightened up on my knees to draw my bow one of his does busted me and the gig was up. That was so much fun!
By this time I had strung my Dad along probably a bit too much while I was playing with my bow. He was totally patient and very accomodating but I felt bad leaving him in the truck time after time as I went on long and fruitless stalks. Did I mention bow hunting with a bright orange hat on sucks? I also knew that the meat processor in town was slammed and if I wanted to have an animal cut and wrapped by the time we had to leave I needed to get on with it. Out came the rifle. I was Ok with the decision since I knew I gave it everything I had with the bow. Time was just running out and conditions weren't in my favor.
We got on another group with a decent buck and I had a topographical advantage. I got behind the rise they were on and started my stalk. When I popped up and they were long gone. When I got back to the truck my dad said they had me pegged the moment I started my stalk 800+yards from them. As soon as I was out of their sight they up and bolted. They would allow no margin of safety like they usually do. If they saw you, from any distance no matter how far, they were running hard.
On to a new area. Found another group where I had a good hill to block my approach. I started my stalk only to have a buck walk up to the top of the hill I was on from the other side and spot me. He then dropped back down to his group on the other side and ratted me out. I boogied up to the top but my the time I got there they were already moving out. I took a rushed and out of breath shot at 286 off my backpack and missed. This was demoralizing.
Then we got on another buck that I easily could have shot as he ran right at the truck because it was near the only fence opening around. He was just too young so I let him walk. One more blown stalk on a good buck and I was totally dejected. On to the area where my dad had killed earlier.
On the way in we spotted a big herd with several semi decent bucks in the group. They were way out in a flat. We back out and I start my stalk again from the backside of a slight hill. I popped up 3/4 of a mile later I glassed the herd of 75+ animals trying to find the best buck. None were at all big but my patience had run out. I couldn't shoot over the sage in front of me so I had to get up a little higher and reposition. As soon as I moved they nailed me and bailed. I was pissed, this was darn near impossible.
One big doe hung up at 366 yards. I figured she'd eat good and would be a better animal to remove than one of the younger bucks so I held over her back and let rip. I heard the bullet hit. The rest of the trotting herd kicked it into high gear and I lost sight of my doe in the herd. Finally, and several hundred yards later one animal slowed up and started to hang her head. She was hunched up and looked gut shot. I could tell she was hurt. She bedded down. She was 500+ yards away so I really couldn't fire a finisher. I waited a few minutes and walked up to her. One pop to the back of the neck sealed the deal.
I looked back towards the truck and it was just a speck 1.5+miles away. This was going to suck. Gutted and on the pack she went. Man I love that pack. It handled the weight like a champ and was actually not bad at all.
We spent the last day sightseeing and relaxing. I took a bunch of pics of antelope on private land and around town. It was agonizing to see all these bucks that would let you get right in on 'em. They sure didn't act like their public land cousins just a few miles away.
All in all, it was a great trip with my dad. The circumstances were less than ideal but we made the best of it. On the 4hr+ ride back to Denver all we talked about were other hunts to plan in the future together. Simply awesome!
The first morning out I noticed that I was not seeing anywhere near the amount of antelope I had in years past. My brother had mentioned the same thing when he hunted earlier during the first season in this unit in Sept. Evidently it was true. Extended drought followed by last years rough winter had apparently taken some toll. There were still enough to play with, it just wasn't going to be as easy as I thought. The second thing I noticed was that there sure seemed to be a hell of a lot more hunter traffic than I'd seen in the past. Then it dawned on me, deer season had just opened so we had those crowds to contend with. The last thing I noticed once we got on our first group on antelope was, holy crap, these things were spooky. Way more so than normal. I guess the 500 antelope hunters from the first season and the 300 hunters over the last 10 days of the second season had really educated these goats. They were like different creatures altogether from what I had seen while hunting the first season on opening day in years prior. I had a hard time even glassing them from 7-800 yards away. I could tell right away this was going to be tough. The animals had been pressured greatly and having to hunt late into the second season meant that we would be picking up the scraps, at best.
Mid morning, after a long blown stalk and a few groups that we could not get on at all we decided to move to spot number 2. As were leaving we bumped into a buck who thought he was sneaky. He was bedded down with just his antler tips visable over the sage. I think he thought he was hidden. I almost missed spotting him. Dad got ready, I whistled, he stood up and hesitated just a second too long quartering to us a bit. Dad hammered him from 130 yards. Knocked the goat over, a few kicks and it was back on its feet, ran 30 yards and tipped over for good. I almost talked Dad out of shooting him thinking we could get on a better one. We would later find out that shooting him was definitely the right move. He ended up being one of the best goats we saw on the whole trip. Call it a fluke or a dumb antelope but he also ended up being the most approachable buck we would see the whole trip too. On the pack and humped back to the truck in a few minutes. For those who care, he was right at 13", 6.5" bases and 70" gross. No monster but actually not bad at all given what we had to cope with. I certainly would have been happy with him. My turn now!
I wanted one with the bow, spot and stalk. A long shot of course, sepecially on highly pressured public land during rifle season. I gave it a go and had a couple failed stalks before we took Dad's animal into the processor and then headed to my honey hole in another part of the unit. This area is perfect for bowhunting because there is usually lots of critters and there is topography and cover for stalking. This is where my bro got his buck with his bow last month. I looked over that area for several hours and the only buck in there was a dinky 6" little guy. I was really disappointed as I was really looking forward to bowhunting this little pocket. It was not going to pan out.
I tried several more stalks in other parts of the unit but no luck. My best chance was 3 animals I glassed up at barely grey light one morning. They were way down and out in this pasture with a brushy draw running right through the middle. I could just see three antelope but it was still too dark to see what they were. I needed the cover of darkness to get into the draw so I had to hurry and take my chances one was a buck rather than waiting for light to verify. I got in there and executed a perfect 1 mile+ stalk only to pop out 42 yards from 3 does. I was hoping one would have been a buck but no luck. The look on their faces was priceless though when I popped up in their kitchen. One even dropped a clump of grass out of her mouth and gave the look of "doh!" when she saw me. I just laughed.
The next close call was when I glassed up a group of goats as I was walking back to the truck from my that long stalk. By the time I got over there and in position they had moved. I figured they had to be right in front of me as that was the only area I couldn't see. I crept up and yep, there they were. I worked around and again executed a perfect stalk to within range. As I straightened up on my knees to draw my bow one of his does busted me and the gig was up. That was so much fun!
By this time I had strung my Dad along probably a bit too much while I was playing with my bow. He was totally patient and very accomodating but I felt bad leaving him in the truck time after time as I went on long and fruitless stalks. Did I mention bow hunting with a bright orange hat on sucks? I also knew that the meat processor in town was slammed and if I wanted to have an animal cut and wrapped by the time we had to leave I needed to get on with it. Out came the rifle. I was Ok with the decision since I knew I gave it everything I had with the bow. Time was just running out and conditions weren't in my favor.
We got on another group with a decent buck and I had a topographical advantage. I got behind the rise they were on and started my stalk. When I popped up and they were long gone. When I got back to the truck my dad said they had me pegged the moment I started my stalk 800+yards from them. As soon as I was out of their sight they up and bolted. They would allow no margin of safety like they usually do. If they saw you, from any distance no matter how far, they were running hard.
On to a new area. Found another group where I had a good hill to block my approach. I started my stalk only to have a buck walk up to the top of the hill I was on from the other side and spot me. He then dropped back down to his group on the other side and ratted me out. I boogied up to the top but my the time I got there they were already moving out. I took a rushed and out of breath shot at 286 off my backpack and missed. This was demoralizing.
Then we got on another buck that I easily could have shot as he ran right at the truck because it was near the only fence opening around. He was just too young so I let him walk. One more blown stalk on a good buck and I was totally dejected. On to the area where my dad had killed earlier.
On the way in we spotted a big herd with several semi decent bucks in the group. They were way out in a flat. We back out and I start my stalk again from the backside of a slight hill. I popped up 3/4 of a mile later I glassed the herd of 75+ animals trying to find the best buck. None were at all big but my patience had run out. I couldn't shoot over the sage in front of me so I had to get up a little higher and reposition. As soon as I moved they nailed me and bailed. I was pissed, this was darn near impossible.
One big doe hung up at 366 yards. I figured she'd eat good and would be a better animal to remove than one of the younger bucks so I held over her back and let rip. I heard the bullet hit. The rest of the trotting herd kicked it into high gear and I lost sight of my doe in the herd. Finally, and several hundred yards later one animal slowed up and started to hang her head. She was hunched up and looked gut shot. I could tell she was hurt. She bedded down. She was 500+ yards away so I really couldn't fire a finisher. I waited a few minutes and walked up to her. One pop to the back of the neck sealed the deal.
I looked back towards the truck and it was just a speck 1.5+miles away. This was going to suck. Gutted and on the pack she went. Man I love that pack. It handled the weight like a champ and was actually not bad at all.
We spent the last day sightseeing and relaxing. I took a bunch of pics of antelope on private land and around town. It was agonizing to see all these bucks that would let you get right in on 'em. They sure didn't act like their public land cousins just a few miles away.
All in all, it was a great trip with my dad. The circumstances were less than ideal but we made the best of it. On the 4hr+ ride back to Denver all we talked about were other hunts to plan in the future together. Simply awesome!
