Friday, October 5, 2012
Ol' Man wisdom
I called the Ol' Man and told him I had a plan for the morning. He grunted while trying to sound enthused, this has been one of the worst years for hunting. The weather is hot and dry, the ground is louder than a "Popcorn Fart" when walking and the deer herds are down in number. Not to mention that my "plans" always involve walking till we drop.
We met at five in the morning and drove to our spot. I convinced him that it was worth the hike off of cliff and down to the rocks. We would sit on those rocks for hours. He never complained but I could see the pain in his face and the lack of excitement toward my hunting spot. You see, all the Ol' Man wants to do this year is "Road Hunt." That is a common style where I live and basically you just drive around and spot animals. Those of us that consider ourselves "real hunters" do not like to road hunt. The Ol' Man on the other hand was trying to convince me that in this weather it was the best way for us to go.
We sat on our rocks until our asses were numb. We did see 10 deer, but no bucks. I decided a new plan was in order. I told the Ol' Man that we would park near the canyon and I would walk down into it. He could stay on the road and wait for me to push a deer out to him. I convinced him that this was a good plan and all he would have to do was wait for the deer to come-a-runnen'. Once again he tried to argue his road hunting idea, but it fell on deaf ears.
I hiked into the canyon and began my push. It was thicker than I remember from years past. Several times I had to crawl through the brush or scale the sides of cliffs to get around an obstacle. After about an hour I emerged at the other end. I was drenched in sweat and bleeding from all the cuts and scratches. Of course neither the Ol' Man or I saw any deer. He gave me a hard time for not pushing him an "easy" deer like I promised.
After drinking a soda the Ol' Man informed me that we were going to road hunt for a while. I agreed, mostly because I couldn't walk anymore. I began to fill him with my vast knowledge of hunting and how road hunting will only produce very small forked horns, because they are young and stupid. I told him that real deer will be in the brush bedded.
As I was educating the Ol' Man we drove around the corner and in front of the truck was a nice three by three buck running in the middle of the road. The buck turned left and jumped off the side into a brush thicket. I bailed out of the truck like a Hollywood stuntman, or a drunken sailor. After gaining my footing I ran off the road where I last saw the buck. The terrain was very steep and loose. I was crashing and sliding and working as hard as I could to stay on my feet.
I spotted the buck in the brush about 60 yards away. he stopped to see what I was. I wanted the Ol' Man to shoot the buck, he earned it after all, but he was still running down the road. I could see that the buck was about to take off again. I had to make a decision and make it fast.
Now, just to explain a little about my hunting supplies. I had my 338 mag. rifle with hand-loaded match grade ammo and 16 power sniper scope. The gun is built for very long range shooting. I had been practicing at 500 and 600 yards all year. Everything on the gun was set up for the long range glassing like we had been doing in the morning. Now I'm looking at a good buck at one tenth the range.
I made the decision and shot the buck at 60 yards with my super long range rifle, ughhh. The 338 dropped him instantly, he never even heard the shot. Then to my horror I watched as he began to roll down the mountain. Luckily he hung up on some brush and stopped about 100 yards from where he was shot.
After a while we had the buck up to the road and cleaned, the Ol' Man didn't say much. We began our drive home and I noticed that the Ol' Man was smiling from ear to ear. It didn't take me long to realize he was smiling because he was going to spend the next hour educating me on how to hunt. I did what any good son would do, I shut up and took my beating.
We met at five in the morning and drove to our spot. I convinced him that it was worth the hike off of cliff and down to the rocks. We would sit on those rocks for hours. He never complained but I could see the pain in his face and the lack of excitement toward my hunting spot. You see, all the Ol' Man wants to do this year is "Road Hunt." That is a common style where I live and basically you just drive around and spot animals. Those of us that consider ourselves "real hunters" do not like to road hunt. The Ol' Man on the other hand was trying to convince me that in this weather it was the best way for us to go.
We sat on our rocks until our asses were numb. We did see 10 deer, but no bucks. I decided a new plan was in order. I told the Ol' Man that we would park near the canyon and I would walk down into it. He could stay on the road and wait for me to push a deer out to him. I convinced him that this was a good plan and all he would have to do was wait for the deer to come-a-runnen'. Once again he tried to argue his road hunting idea, but it fell on deaf ears.
I hiked into the canyon and began my push. It was thicker than I remember from years past. Several times I had to crawl through the brush or scale the sides of cliffs to get around an obstacle. After about an hour I emerged at the other end. I was drenched in sweat and bleeding from all the cuts and scratches. Of course neither the Ol' Man or I saw any deer. He gave me a hard time for not pushing him an "easy" deer like I promised.
After drinking a soda the Ol' Man informed me that we were going to road hunt for a while. I agreed, mostly because I couldn't walk anymore. I began to fill him with my vast knowledge of hunting and how road hunting will only produce very small forked horns, because they are young and stupid. I told him that real deer will be in the brush bedded.
As I was educating the Ol' Man we drove around the corner and in front of the truck was a nice three by three buck running in the middle of the road. The buck turned left and jumped off the side into a brush thicket. I bailed out of the truck like a Hollywood stuntman, or a drunken sailor. After gaining my footing I ran off the road where I last saw the buck. The terrain was very steep and loose. I was crashing and sliding and working as hard as I could to stay on my feet.
I spotted the buck in the brush about 60 yards away. he stopped to see what I was. I wanted the Ol' Man to shoot the buck, he earned it after all, but he was still running down the road. I could see that the buck was about to take off again. I had to make a decision and make it fast.
Now, just to explain a little about my hunting supplies. I had my 338 mag. rifle with hand-loaded match grade ammo and 16 power sniper scope. The gun is built for very long range shooting. I had been practicing at 500 and 600 yards all year. Everything on the gun was set up for the long range glassing like we had been doing in the morning. Now I'm looking at a good buck at one tenth the range.
I made the decision and shot the buck at 60 yards with my super long range rifle, ughhh. The 338 dropped him instantly, he never even heard the shot. Then to my horror I watched as he began to roll down the mountain. Luckily he hung up on some brush and stopped about 100 yards from where he was shot.
After a while we had the buck up to the road and cleaned, the Ol' Man didn't say much. We began our drive home and I noticed that the Ol' Man was smiling from ear to ear. It didn't take me long to realize he was smiling because he was going to spend the next hour educating me on how to hunt. I did what any good son would do, I shut up and took my beating.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Better late than never
Better late than never! That is true of this hunt and the time between my posts. I have been busy with school and have not had time to post in a while. After graduating the Ol' Man took me on a pig hunt. We hunted hard all day without seeing any pigs. We did come across four herds of elk and several turkeys. The day was beautiful and except for the constant brushes with poison-oak and the lack of pigs it was a great day.
Our guide told us that he has only seen pigs with the cattle on two other occasions, so don't worry about looking when we are in a herd of cows. He had mentioned this a few times during the day. At seven at night we were heading back after walking all day. We were in the "Gator" when we saw a few cows feeding a couple hundred yards away. As we drove by I saw something that did not look right in the herd. I told the guide that I had to walk back and check the herd. He was very patients and agreed to walk back with me. I could tell that he was less than enthused to check out a herd of cows, for the tenth time that day. When we got to the edge of the timber I pointed to the "cow" in the middle. His whole outlook changed, from calm and collected to def-com-ten. He announced that several pigs were in the herd.
He ran back and got the Ol' Man, together they ran to where I was setting up my shooting position. I wanted the Ol' Man to shoot first so I was waiting, the Ol' Man wanted me to shoot first so he was also waiting. The guide was now going crazy, lol, he was yelling "shoot, someone shoot!!!"
I picked a large pig and let the air out of it, "BOOM." The pigs took off one way and the cows the other. The Ol' Man could not get a shot so he and the guide were up and running. The guide yelled back at me, "did you get it." "You bet" I said. Then he and the Ol' Man disappeared in the timber. I ran along a ridge line trying to spot for them. Using the best hand signals I could I managed to keep the guide and the Ol' Man headed in the right direction. As they cleared the timber the guide got on their tracks and I watched as he and the Ol' Man disappeared again.
About fifteen minutes later I heard a faint shot off in the distance. "Alright, thank you Lord" I yelled. A while later the guide came back. We retrieved my pig together, a nice two hundred pound'er. We then drove about a mile to where the Ol' Man and the guide had caught up to the pigs. As we walked up to where the guide said that they had shot the pig I saw an absolutely huge pig laying on the ground. The Ol' Man walked down to us with a smile from ear to ear.
That was by far one of the best hunts I have ever been on. I got to witness the Ol' Man take a three hundred plus pound pig as well as making a new friend. The guide was one of the hardest working guys I have ever hunted with. He stayed positive all day and never gave up, he is also one heck of a good cook.
Our guide told us that he has only seen pigs with the cattle on two other occasions, so don't worry about looking when we are in a herd of cows. He had mentioned this a few times during the day. At seven at night we were heading back after walking all day. We were in the "Gator" when we saw a few cows feeding a couple hundred yards away. As we drove by I saw something that did not look right in the herd. I told the guide that I had to walk back and check the herd. He was very patients and agreed to walk back with me. I could tell that he was less than enthused to check out a herd of cows, for the tenth time that day. When we got to the edge of the timber I pointed to the "cow" in the middle. His whole outlook changed, from calm and collected to def-com-ten. He announced that several pigs were in the herd.
He ran back and got the Ol' Man, together they ran to where I was setting up my shooting position. I wanted the Ol' Man to shoot first so I was waiting, the Ol' Man wanted me to shoot first so he was also waiting. The guide was now going crazy, lol, he was yelling "shoot, someone shoot!!!"
I picked a large pig and let the air out of it, "BOOM." The pigs took off one way and the cows the other. The Ol' Man could not get a shot so he and the guide were up and running. The guide yelled back at me, "did you get it." "You bet" I said. Then he and the Ol' Man disappeared in the timber. I ran along a ridge line trying to spot for them. Using the best hand signals I could I managed to keep the guide and the Ol' Man headed in the right direction. As they cleared the timber the guide got on their tracks and I watched as he and the Ol' Man disappeared again.
About fifteen minutes later I heard a faint shot off in the distance. "Alright, thank you Lord" I yelled. A while later the guide came back. We retrieved my pig together, a nice two hundred pound'er. We then drove about a mile to where the Ol' Man and the guide had caught up to the pigs. As we walked up to where the guide said that they had shot the pig I saw an absolutely huge pig laying on the ground. The Ol' Man walked down to us with a smile from ear to ear.
That was by far one of the best hunts I have ever been on. I got to witness the Ol' Man take a three hundred plus pound pig as well as making a new friend. The guide was one of the hardest working guys I have ever hunted with. He stayed positive all day and never gave up, he is also one heck of a good cook.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)