Opening weekend hunt LONG WITH pic
Snake River Marksman
9/17/07 8:49pm
Opening Day for Deer 2007
Out of the canyon, on a light southerly breeze, the siren song as old as time floated to my ears, the words known only to the elk who still sing it. I was glad to hear it, and just as glad that I didn’t have to heed its call. It was a long ways down into that canyon and I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the night before.
My neighbor, Billy, and I were hunting mule deer, not elk, so I could just relax and enjoy the music without worrying about going down after that elk and how we would get him out of that valley, over the ridge, down into the next valley and upstream of the creek for .88 miles to where we could get him onto the four wheelers and then to the truck. I went back to glassing my side of the hill for deer. I wasn’t really interested in shooting a deer myself. I’ve never shot a mule deer, but I’ve shot enough whitetails to know what its about, that plus four antelope, and a black bear, so I think that qualifies me as a big game hunter, Billy, on the other hand, has never killed any big game and I was along as a quasi sort of guide/helper, in the event that he did kill a deer. Of course, I’d brought my rifle just in case I spotted something I just couldn’t pass up, and Billy wasn’t around to take the shot, or he needed backup or something.
I glassed my ridge and the opposite slope, eventually spotting the rear end of a deer as it disappeared into some trees. Since this was an antlered deer only unit, I didn’t feel it was worth the time and effort to go after that deer, when there were surely just as many deer on my ridge as that one. And without that deep canyon and two steep hillsides to negotiate besides. I also spotted four elk, to far away, even with the excellent Brunton binocular, to see if any had horns. I sat there basking in the sun, munching sweat and salty granola bars, watching birds, picking apart bushes, and noting how the changing sun angle changed the view in the seven or eight small opening that I could see on my ridge. In time the rock upon which I sat, won the battle with my rear, and I conceded defeat. I collected my gear, and crept over the ridge. I glassed it for 10 minutes or so, noting that Billy was fidgeting quite a bit as well. I brought myself into his full view, and he grabbed his stuff and headed up to my level on the ridge. He’d seen nothing but he had heard the elk. He liked that a lot.
We decided, jointly, to walk out the ridge, and then head upstream to the fourwheelers. Billy had left his lunch in the truck so we’d go back to the truck and formulate a plan for the afternoon. We wouldn’t get back to the ATVs till after noon, anyway so it would work out pretty well, though I had planned on staying on that ridge all day. There was a lot of good sign up there.
After the lunch break, I suggested that we go down to a spot where we could look over a large flat at the base of the ridge we had been on in the morning. It had some sign on it, the wind was right, and it didn’t involve climbing. I was tired and a little stiff so it was easy to make the choice.
There were cattle in the creek below us and in the flat across from us when we got there but I knew they wouldn’t influence the deer any. It was early afternoon with a pleasant southerly breeze and the sun was shining, so I got comfortable behind a deadfall, pulled my jacket over me to ward off the flies, pulled my hat low over my eyes and checked out for an hour or so. When I came back to the here and now, I slowly survey the area around me from under the brim of my hat, till I was sure it was safe to move, then I sat up and continued to look around. Nothing had changed. I brought the binocular to my eyes and glassed into the woods on the other side of the clearing. The cows had changed position but that’s about all.
The afternoon passed into evening as I watched a redtail hawk hunting in the flat across from us, and I marveled at how stealthy those old range cows can be, several of them having snuck up behind us in the heavy timber, getting within ten yards before we were aware of their presence. The sun passed below the ridge, the air started to cool and that magic time of day came stealing down the mountains. Billy finally called it done, and I suggested that another half hour might not be wasted here. He declined, and I agreed so we headed back to the truck.
Less than a quarter mile from the truck, riding the ATV, I spotted a mule deer on a small ridge not 100yds away. It paid me little attention, looking my way occasionally and feeding. I figured it for a doe, but put the glasses on it and was surprised to see forked antlers. I got the rifle unlimbered, and put a round in the chamber then paused. If I shot this deer, I’d be hard pressed to continue hunting with Billy till he got his deer. Besides, I’d just as soon shoot a doe as a small buck, leaving bucks like this to grow up into something some trophy hunter could hang a tag on. But Billy would likely shoot it, and he was only just up the road. This buck didn’t appear to be going anywhere. What did I have to lose by going to get Billy and coming back? Decision made, I cleared the chamber and tore off to the truck.
Arriving at the truck, I said to Billy “Are you done hunting for the day or do you want to go kill this buck?” His reply was obvious “What buck?” I quickly told him. He said, “Is it still legal light?” I said “Yes but it’s getting close.” He said, “Well lets go!” We drove back and sure enough that little forkie was right there where I’d left him, offering up a perfect broadside shot. Billy chambered a round, got on the rifle, came off the rifle, looked around, and then asked again, “Are you sure it is still legal light?” I said “Billy, I don’t know exactly what time legal light is, and I know we’re close, but I still think we’re good, and I’d shoot him” Billy said, ” I’m not sure, and I’d rather be safe than sorry, you can shoot him if you want, but don’t want to make a mistake.” I thought it over for a moment and still came to the conclusion that I’d rather go to another unit one evening after work and shoot a doe, so I told Billy I’d pass. Billy unloaded his rifle and we headed back to the truck, loaded up and headed home. I checked the time for sunset when we got home. We had had 15min of light left. C’est la vie!
I went to bed without eating. Bad idea. At 0100 I came awake to the sound of the neighbors dog barking. (Not Billy’s). It continued to bark for a half hour. I finally called the neighbor and got no answer. Of course. I dressed and headed out to see what the heck was going on. There were three raccoons cornered on the top of one three-inch fence post. I wish I’d taken the camera! I left them there, thinking in my sleep-addled mind that they’d climb down; the dog would shut up and that would be that. A half hour later I was putting earplugs in. I awoke at 0430 and that darn dog was still barking. I dressed, grabbed a .22 pistol and vowed that SOMETHING was about to DIE! I headed over and found the coons were still huddled in a ball on the top of the fence post. There wasn’t a safe shot, and to be honest, I didn’t want to shoot the blasted things anyway. I thought about shooting the pit bull, but I wasn’t about to do that either. It didn’t deserve it anymore than the coons. I drew my pistol, cocked the hammer, and lay my finger alongside the trigger guard, and then I grabbed a rake from the side of the fence and raked the “coon ball” off the fence post to the ground at my feet. They hissed and cussed as they ran off around the house. Dusty the pit bull fell silent and that was that. I lowered the hammer on the revolver and holstered it. Went back to the house, made coffee and waited for Billy.
We drove up the road planning on starting today, where we had left off the day before, watching that flat across the creek. We also agreed that it would only be a half-day hunt. I needed to do some chores, and I was going to get a good nap in to make up for the sleep the dog cost me. We watched the woods wake up, saw the cows begin their day and otherwise enjoyed a tranquil if chilly morning begin. (It was 26°F) About nine I decided that I’d had enough of watching cows and there was an abandoned buck and rail fence going up a shallow ridge that would provide excellent stalking opportunities. We drove back to the old fence, and headed out. We hadn’t gone far when I spotted a mule deer’s rump in the aspens to our right. I got a look at her head as she lowered it to feed and pronounced to Billy that it was a doe. She finally noticed us and walked quite calmly away. No other deer followed her. I’m guessing she was alone. We spotted her again, at the bottom of a sagebrush opening, at the edge of the woods, and again she was alone. She’d have been an easy shot had this been an any deer area. We continued up the fence line and I spotted a gray jay headed towards us. He landed on a branch five feet in front of me. Then he flew towards me, and I just knew he was going to land on my head. Unfortunately, he landed on the branch just to the right of me not a foot away. Billy and I stood frozen, till I heard him fly off a few moments later, then we stood and whispered about how totally cool that was.
We continued up the fence line. Presently I again spotted a muley doe standing off to our right, this one fully aware of our presence. She stood there long enough for us to look her over real good, and then she perked up her ears and stotted off into the forest. (Stot is the correct term for the pogo type run that mule deer do) About this time we came to a fork in the trail and it was decision time. It was just a tad early for the noon deadline, but too late really to take the other We figured early was better than late so we went left and started the loop back to the truck. It amounted to a pleasant trip through the forest with no more deer sightings. We ended up not quite where I thought we would, but we still had the ATVs loaded on the truck by 1200 and were home by 1:00, and I, for one didn’t have any regrets about the weekend at all. Exxccept maybe the sleep I lost because of those dratted coons LOL!
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Out of the canyon, on a light southerly breeze, the siren song as old as time floated to my ears, the words known only to the elk who still sing it. I was glad to hear it, and just as glad that I didn’t have to heed its call. It was a long ways down into that canyon and I hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep the night before.
My neighbor, Billy, and I were hunting mule deer, not elk, so I could just relax and enjoy the music without worrying about going down after that elk and how we would get him out of that valley, over the ridge, down into the next valley and upstream of the creek for .88 miles to where we could get him onto the four wheelers and then to the truck. I went back to glassing my side of the hill for deer. I wasn’t really interested in shooting a deer myself. I’ve never shot a mule deer, but I’ve shot enough whitetails to know what its about, that plus four antelope, and a black bear, so I think that qualifies me as a big game hunter, Billy, on the other hand, has never killed any big game and I was along as a quasi sort of guide/helper, in the event that he did kill a deer. Of course, I’d brought my rifle just in case I spotted something I just couldn’t pass up, and Billy wasn’t around to take the shot, or he needed backup or something.
I glassed my ridge and the opposite slope, eventually spotting the rear end of a deer as it disappeared into some trees. Since this was an antlered deer only unit, I didn’t feel it was worth the time and effort to go after that deer, when there were surely just as many deer on my ridge as that one. And without that deep canyon and two steep hillsides to negotiate besides. I also spotted four elk, to far away, even with the excellent Brunton binocular, to see if any had horns. I sat there basking in the sun, munching sweat and salty granola bars, watching birds, picking apart bushes, and noting how the changing sun angle changed the view in the seven or eight small opening that I could see on my ridge. In time the rock upon which I sat, won the battle with my rear, and I conceded defeat. I collected my gear, and crept over the ridge. I glassed it for 10 minutes or so, noting that Billy was fidgeting quite a bit as well. I brought myself into his full view, and he grabbed his stuff and headed up to my level on the ridge. He’d seen nothing but he had heard the elk. He liked that a lot.
We decided, jointly, to walk out the ridge, and then head upstream to the fourwheelers. Billy had left his lunch in the truck so we’d go back to the truck and formulate a plan for the afternoon. We wouldn’t get back to the ATVs till after noon, anyway so it would work out pretty well, though I had planned on staying on that ridge all day. There was a lot of good sign up there.
After the lunch break, I suggested that we go down to a spot where we could look over a large flat at the base of the ridge we had been on in the morning. It had some sign on it, the wind was right, and it didn’t involve climbing. I was tired and a little stiff so it was easy to make the choice.
There were cattle in the creek below us and in the flat across from us when we got there but I knew they wouldn’t influence the deer any. It was early afternoon with a pleasant southerly breeze and the sun was shining, so I got comfortable behind a deadfall, pulled my jacket over me to ward off the flies, pulled my hat low over my eyes and checked out for an hour or so. When I came back to the here and now, I slowly survey the area around me from under the brim of my hat, till I was sure it was safe to move, then I sat up and continued to look around. Nothing had changed. I brought the binocular to my eyes and glassed into the woods on the other side of the clearing. The cows had changed position but that’s about all.
The afternoon passed into evening as I watched a redtail hawk hunting in the flat across from us, and I marveled at how stealthy those old range cows can be, several of them having snuck up behind us in the heavy timber, getting within ten yards before we were aware of their presence. The sun passed below the ridge, the air started to cool and that magic time of day came stealing down the mountains. Billy finally called it done, and I suggested that another half hour might not be wasted here. He declined, and I agreed so we headed back to the truck.
Less than a quarter mile from the truck, riding the ATV, I spotted a mule deer on a small ridge not 100yds away. It paid me little attention, looking my way occasionally and feeding. I figured it for a doe, but put the glasses on it and was surprised to see forked antlers. I got the rifle unlimbered, and put a round in the chamber then paused. If I shot this deer, I’d be hard pressed to continue hunting with Billy till he got his deer. Besides, I’d just as soon shoot a doe as a small buck, leaving bucks like this to grow up into something some trophy hunter could hang a tag on. But Billy would likely shoot it, and he was only just up the road. This buck didn’t appear to be going anywhere. What did I have to lose by going to get Billy and coming back? Decision made, I cleared the chamber and tore off to the truck.
Arriving at the truck, I said to Billy “Are you done hunting for the day or do you want to go kill this buck?” His reply was obvious “What buck?” I quickly told him. He said, “Is it still legal light?” I said “Yes but it’s getting close.” He said, “Well lets go!” We drove back and sure enough that little forkie was right there where I’d left him, offering up a perfect broadside shot. Billy chambered a round, got on the rifle, came off the rifle, looked around, and then asked again, “Are you sure it is still legal light?” I said “Billy, I don’t know exactly what time legal light is, and I know we’re close, but I still think we’re good, and I’d shoot him” Billy said, ” I’m not sure, and I’d rather be safe than sorry, you can shoot him if you want, but don’t want to make a mistake.” I thought it over for a moment and still came to the conclusion that I’d rather go to another unit one evening after work and shoot a doe, so I told Billy I’d pass. Billy unloaded his rifle and we headed back to the truck, loaded up and headed home. I checked the time for sunset when we got home. We had had 15min of light left. C’est la vie!
I went to bed without eating. Bad idea. At 0100 I came awake to the sound of the neighbors dog barking. (Not Billy’s). It continued to bark for a half hour. I finally called the neighbor and got no answer. Of course. I dressed and headed out to see what the heck was going on. There were three raccoons cornered on the top of one three-inch fence post. I wish I’d taken the camera! I left them there, thinking in my sleep-addled mind that they’d climb down; the dog would shut up and that would be that. A half hour later I was putting earplugs in. I awoke at 0430 and that darn dog was still barking. I dressed, grabbed a .22 pistol and vowed that SOMETHING was about to DIE! I headed over and found the coons were still huddled in a ball on the top of the fence post. There wasn’t a safe shot, and to be honest, I didn’t want to shoot the blasted things anyway. I thought about shooting the pit bull, but I wasn’t about to do that either. It didn’t deserve it anymore than the coons. I drew my pistol, cocked the hammer, and lay my finger alongside the trigger guard, and then I grabbed a rake from the side of the fence and raked the “coon ball” off the fence post to the ground at my feet. They hissed and cussed as they ran off around the house. Dusty the pit bull fell silent and that was that. I lowered the hammer on the revolver and holstered it. Went back to the house, made coffee and waited for Billy.
We drove up the road planning on starting today, where we had left off the day before, watching that flat across the creek. We also agreed that it would only be a half-day hunt. I needed to do some chores, and I was going to get a good nap in to make up for the sleep the dog cost me. We watched the woods wake up, saw the cows begin their day and otherwise enjoyed a tranquil if chilly morning begin. (It was 26°F) About nine I decided that I’d had enough of watching cows and there was an abandoned buck and rail fence going up a shallow ridge that would provide excellent stalking opportunities. We drove back to the old fence, and headed out. We hadn’t gone far when I spotted a mule deer’s rump in the aspens to our right. I got a look at her head as she lowered it to feed and pronounced to Billy that it was a doe. She finally noticed us and walked quite calmly away. No other deer followed her. I’m guessing she was alone. We spotted her again, at the bottom of a sagebrush opening, at the edge of the woods, and again she was alone. She’d have been an easy shot had this been an any deer area. We continued up the fence line and I spotted a gray jay headed towards us. He landed on a branch five feet in front of me. Then he flew towards me, and I just knew he was going to land on my head. Unfortunately, he landed on the branch just to the right of me not a foot away. Billy and I stood frozen, till I heard him fly off a few moments later, then we stood and whispered about how totally cool that was.
We continued up the fence line. Presently I again spotted a muley doe standing off to our right, this one fully aware of our presence. She stood there long enough for us to look her over real good, and then she perked up her ears and stotted off into the forest. (Stot is the correct term for the pogo type run that mule deer do) About this time we came to a fork in the trail and it was decision time. It was just a tad early for the noon deadline, but too late really to take the other We figured early was better than late so we went left and started the loop back to the truck. It amounted to a pleasant trip through the forest with no more deer sightings. We ended up not quite where I thought we would, but we still had the ATVs loaded on the truck by 1200 and were home by 1:00, and I, for one didn’t have any regrets about the weekend at all. Exxccept maybe the sleep I lost because of those dratted coons LOL!
1,430
Sounds like you and your buddy are the kind of guys I'd like to hunt with! I love just sittin' on a lonely hillside, enjoyin' the views and the sights/sounds, and catching a "Z" or two in the wide-open countryside during the slow times. After all, that's the stuff you enjoy...after you knock and animal over the WORK begins! (Not necessarily the bad type of work though)