Pudelpointer
01-20-2013, 11:31 PM
Wow, what a busy year I have had.
After working much of the 2011 season, I was determined to put in more days in the field in 2012.
Didn't happen.
My work was supposed to slow to a trickle in late August, but due to unforeseen Cluster***ks caused by others, I ended up having my highest grossing (and net) year since I started consulting many moons ago. I have pretty much spent 1 to 4 days a week in Medicine Hat since April, and there is no relief in sight.
HOWEVER, I did manage to take a week off to hunt with some good friends, and managed a few weekends (along with EVERYONE else it seems) to chase elk around the hills, and the odd day here and there looking for whitetails.
I managed 5 days during bow season (Sept.1 to Oct.25 in the zones I hunt), and had a couple close calls with elk, but just couldn't seal a deal. Got to hunt some new areas though, and see some beautiful sunrises.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_14-1.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_8.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_13.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_10.jpg
The snow came early in the south this year, which sure helped with tracking and ageing sign. I usually avoid the rifle opener like a swim beach next to a sewer outfall (cough... Victoria BC... cough), but with limited time to hunt, I hunted the first 3 days.
Wow. Was immediately reminded why I don't hunt the first week of rifle season. Opening morning started out uneventful enough; guys ripping around in the dark trying to get to a spot before other guys, every pullout filled with a truck full of guys, a shot 10 minutes before legal light. I was sitting on a ridge top, with a nice rest so I could watch the swarm of hunters slowly working their way up the far side of the valley.
Then about 9:00, it started.... Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow................... pow, pow, pow, pow, pow............ pow, pow......... pow .......... pow.........................pow
What is it about an elk at 600 yards running flat out across a barren hillside that makes peoples brains fall out their a**? 15 shots IIRC. The shooting started at 600 yards! By the time they ran out of sight, the elk were well over 1200 yards from the shooters (I refuse to call them hunters).
10:15.... Pow, pow, pow, pow........... pow, pow, pow............... pow, pow, pow............
OMG, here we go again. This time the elk were probably close to 800 yards or more when the first shot rang out.... and to the shooter's credit, at least this elk was only walking fast for the first couple shots. In case anyone is missing it, I am being facetious.
I spent the next two days in the deep timber, as far from any access point as I could get. I didn't see many elk, but I didn't have watch any more debacles either.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_9.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_1-2.jpg
A friend pulled a mule deer tag in one of the zones, so I spent every following weekend trying to help him find a good buck. He is a big guy, and quite out of shape (though he worked real hard; I am proud of the effort he put in, even if it frustrated the heck out of me) so we were not having very much luck.
I had a run-in with a cougar, but I already wrote that story up:
http://www.outdoorsmenforum.ca/showthread.php?t=155822&highlight=kitty
I got into a couple big herds of elk in the latter half of the season. The first big group I bumped, but managed a shot with my old model 88 at 240 yards. Should have been a gimme, as I had a solid rest and a pretty good quartering away shot on a standing elk. Problem is, I was shooting from a high point down across a saddle to another high point on top of a ridge, which in and of itself is not a problem. The problem was the hurricane force wind that was ripping across that ridge. In my haste to make the shot (the elk were spooked hard and working themselves into a frenzy trying to decide which way to make their escape) I didn't even consider the wind drift.
At the shot I heard a "whomp", and saw the bull tense up, and then off he went. I took another shot just before he disappeared into some trees, but he was pushing 360 by then. About a minute later I heard a single shot, then about 15 minutes later 5 shots in rapid succession.
I searched for blood for over an hour and a half in the fresh snow, following every set of tracks for a hundred yards or so, before hiking back up the hill and following another set. Did I mention there was over 40 elk in that herd?
Anyway, after finding nothing, and just about getting run over by mule deer bucks chasing does all over the ridge, I decided that maybe it would just be quicker to find the other hunters and see if they shot the bull I was sure I had hit. Sure as heck, as I am aimlessly walking around looking for a person, I look down and there it is, a pink stain in a hoof print! A few more steps and there is another blood stain. I find one more track with blood in it and then the tracks leave the snow.
Last direction they were heading was down the ridge, so that is the direction I go.
A short time later I spot a guy walking out of a little valley with his sleeves rolled up and a knife in his hand. I glassed his tracks in the snow until I spotted an elk that had been gutted. It was a different bull. Damn.
I continued to glass the bowl for a while, and could see human tracks in the snow. I followed them along....... my elk! There he was. It appeared the guy I had spotted had either shot both elk, or the one I had shot at had made it a very long way before he died. I hunkered down and waited. A while later here comes the same guy, but now he has a friend. They walk down to the little bull and put a tag on him.
Normally I would be a bit upset about a guy dumping two bulls and then having his friend tag it, but not this time. I was happy that there wasn't a wounded elk running around, or worse yet, dead in a place I couldn't find it.
I picked up a rifle last spring that had belonged to a friend of mine that passed away. I bought two of his guns from his sister: a .54 cal muzzleloader, and a Safari Grade 700 in 8mm Rem Mag. The 8 Mag he bought new, and only ever fired 5 rounds out of it, and my uncle shot another 5, then it sat in his gun safe until he died. My uncle said he thought it was too pretty to take hunting. I, on the other hand, don't.
I made up my mind during the summer that I really wanted to try and take an elk with Ernie's 8 Mag, and a WT buck with his .54. Well, I managed the elk, but the .54 proved to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, every time I took it out.
The elk walked up on me while I sat in some big timber on a bitterly cold day. I had just finished my frozen sandwich, and was sitting cross-legged on a giant old fir log. I was getting cold and wanted to move on, but talked myself into holding out for another 15 minutes. I was just off a couple hour old set of cow and calf elk tracks by about 15 yards, and I figured if an elk was going to show up, he would pop into view at about 80 yards, directly in front of me. Well I'll be damned if that isn't exactly what he did.
He was walking at a steady pace, not rushing, but not wasting time either. I got the gun up to my shoulder without him seeing me, and pushed the safety off.... "CLICK". He stopped dead in his tracks, on full alert. Not being used to the rifle I had no idea how loud the safety was if you didn't control it while taking it off safe. The bull was almost completely face on, and I figured it was as good a shot as any.... then it dawned on me that although I knew it was a decent bull, I had absolutely no idea how many points he had as the top of his head and his antlers were obscured by a low hanging fir branch. There was no way I could get my binos up to look, so I just watched through the scope and waited. After a minute the bull started to walk again and I didn't have to look very hard to see there were more than 3 points on those antlers. The angle was still not great, but after the earlier issues I had with elk this fall, I was going to take him.
I slid my finger onto the trigger..... oh crap, I still have my mitts on. I slide my hand over to my face and pull the mitt back with my teeth. My (now) free finger finds the trigger just as the bull's angle improves and the Big 8 barks in my hands. The bull stops dead, tightens up, and falls over straight legged. He lays still for a second or two, then kicks wildly, throwing snow and dirt for 30 feet. He only kicks for a few seconds, lets out a breath of steam in the ice cold air, and then is still. Turns out he was a little 6x6.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_6-1-1.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_7-1-1.jpg
I hit him just inside the near shoulder, and I found the bullet stuck in the hide just behind the far shoulder. The 220 grain Sierra weighed 168 grains IIRC.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_3-2-1.jpg
Fortunately I had 4 friends with me that day, which made packing that elk out a breeze! Unfortunately I had 4 friends with me that day, so my freezer isn't near as full as I would like it to be!
On the very last day of the season I got up EARLY, and made the drive to my buddy's place in Brooks. He had missed a monstrous WT the day before, and wanted me to hunt with him one last time before the season ended. I packed the .54 and my .270 A-bolt into my Jetta TDi, cause it gets stupid good mileage. We would be taking my buddy's truck, so why pay for the extra gas to take my truck?
My buddy couldn't make up his mind how he wanted to approach the day's hunt. It was starting to get light and I was getting frustrated, so finally I said "just make up your mind already!" He decided he wanted me to walk across an open 1/4 until I hit a fence line, then I was to work my way back to him through the scrub. I had planned on sitting in a spot where I could get a good 70 yard shot, but now I was going to be lucky to see a deer at 200. It was also very foggy and snowing. Visibility was probably around 100 yards.
I decided to take the .270 and leave the .54 in the truck. Now, I had turned down 5 good little bucks that season with the 8 Mag, that I would have shot in a second with the muzzleloader. And sure enough, as luck would have it, what do I see walking right at me in the fog? A nice little 8 point buck. I went to my knees, then slid out on my stomach. Little bugger sees me, and then walks by me at 40 yards..... would have been perfect for the .54.
I continue on with a nagging feeling that maybe, since it is the last day and all, I should have shot that buck. Too late now, and I continue on. When I reach the fence I hear a buck grunt a couple times off in the fog somewhere ahead of me. I bumped a few does out of a clump of brush, and decide that their beds would make a great spot to lay low for a while until the fog lifts a bit.
After sitting for about 20 minutes, I figure doing some calling might be in order. I make a series of grunts and doe bleats. 5 minutes later I make another series of calls, only louder. 5 minutes late, another series. I contemplate moving to a different spot. One more series of calls......
The fog and snow thins enough that I manage a reading with my rangefinder to a likely looking clump of brush; 287 yards. I contemplate some more calls, or maybe even rattling. I dig my rattling antlers out of my pack and scrape one of them on a branch for a bit. I pick up the other antler and am just about to start rattling when I notice movement; right where I had ranged. I get the binos up and.... buck. Better than the last. I get behind the rifle, make a small adjustment to the bipod, and flick off the safety.
The turret on the scope is set for 250, but the buck is moving straight at me, and fast. I figure he is going to stop at the fence between us, which I had ranged at 140, so I quickly take off all the elevation; should put me 1" low at 140. Deer walks to the fence and hops right over without so much as a pause. Now he is starting to move to my left, in an attempt to get the wind in his favour. I follow him through the scope. He keeps walking, and walking, and walking. For over 200 yards the deer has not stopped and he is about to hit my scent stream, so I hold tight inside his shoulder and send a 130 TTSX.
I have killed a lot of deer in my life, not as many as some, but a lot. Except for an occasional head (spine actually) shot, I have never, ever, seen a deer die like this one did. It was as if someone just flicked a switch. He hit the snow face first and never moved.... AT ALL. He didn't breath, he didn't twitch an ear, he didn't flick a leg.... nothing. He.... just..... stopped.
I dragged him over to the fence line, then remembered I had my calf sled in the truck.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/photo-9.jpg
I got him in the truck, and then hunted with my buddy a little bit until there was a bunch of shots and the deer got pushed out. When we got to his house he said I could hang the deer in his garage if I wanted. "Why?" I asked. "Cause you brought your car?!?!?!"
Problem solved:
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/JettaHuntingWagon.jpg
After working much of the 2011 season, I was determined to put in more days in the field in 2012.
Didn't happen.
My work was supposed to slow to a trickle in late August, but due to unforeseen Cluster***ks caused by others, I ended up having my highest grossing (and net) year since I started consulting many moons ago. I have pretty much spent 1 to 4 days a week in Medicine Hat since April, and there is no relief in sight.
HOWEVER, I did manage to take a week off to hunt with some good friends, and managed a few weekends (along with EVERYONE else it seems) to chase elk around the hills, and the odd day here and there looking for whitetails.
I managed 5 days during bow season (Sept.1 to Oct.25 in the zones I hunt), and had a couple close calls with elk, but just couldn't seal a deal. Got to hunt some new areas though, and see some beautiful sunrises.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_14-1.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_8.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_13.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_10.jpg
The snow came early in the south this year, which sure helped with tracking and ageing sign. I usually avoid the rifle opener like a swim beach next to a sewer outfall (cough... Victoria BC... cough), but with limited time to hunt, I hunted the first 3 days.
Wow. Was immediately reminded why I don't hunt the first week of rifle season. Opening morning started out uneventful enough; guys ripping around in the dark trying to get to a spot before other guys, every pullout filled with a truck full of guys, a shot 10 minutes before legal light. I was sitting on a ridge top, with a nice rest so I could watch the swarm of hunters slowly working their way up the far side of the valley.
Then about 9:00, it started.... Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow................... pow, pow, pow, pow, pow............ pow, pow......... pow .......... pow.........................pow
What is it about an elk at 600 yards running flat out across a barren hillside that makes peoples brains fall out their a**? 15 shots IIRC. The shooting started at 600 yards! By the time they ran out of sight, the elk were well over 1200 yards from the shooters (I refuse to call them hunters).
10:15.... Pow, pow, pow, pow........... pow, pow, pow............... pow, pow, pow............
OMG, here we go again. This time the elk were probably close to 800 yards or more when the first shot rang out.... and to the shooter's credit, at least this elk was only walking fast for the first couple shots. In case anyone is missing it, I am being facetious.
I spent the next two days in the deep timber, as far from any access point as I could get. I didn't see many elk, but I didn't have watch any more debacles either.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_9.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_1-2.jpg
A friend pulled a mule deer tag in one of the zones, so I spent every following weekend trying to help him find a good buck. He is a big guy, and quite out of shape (though he worked real hard; I am proud of the effort he put in, even if it frustrated the heck out of me) so we were not having very much luck.
I had a run-in with a cougar, but I already wrote that story up:
http://www.outdoorsmenforum.ca/showthread.php?t=155822&highlight=kitty
I got into a couple big herds of elk in the latter half of the season. The first big group I bumped, but managed a shot with my old model 88 at 240 yards. Should have been a gimme, as I had a solid rest and a pretty good quartering away shot on a standing elk. Problem is, I was shooting from a high point down across a saddle to another high point on top of a ridge, which in and of itself is not a problem. The problem was the hurricane force wind that was ripping across that ridge. In my haste to make the shot (the elk were spooked hard and working themselves into a frenzy trying to decide which way to make their escape) I didn't even consider the wind drift.
At the shot I heard a "whomp", and saw the bull tense up, and then off he went. I took another shot just before he disappeared into some trees, but he was pushing 360 by then. About a minute later I heard a single shot, then about 15 minutes later 5 shots in rapid succession.
I searched for blood for over an hour and a half in the fresh snow, following every set of tracks for a hundred yards or so, before hiking back up the hill and following another set. Did I mention there was over 40 elk in that herd?
Anyway, after finding nothing, and just about getting run over by mule deer bucks chasing does all over the ridge, I decided that maybe it would just be quicker to find the other hunters and see if they shot the bull I was sure I had hit. Sure as heck, as I am aimlessly walking around looking for a person, I look down and there it is, a pink stain in a hoof print! A few more steps and there is another blood stain. I find one more track with blood in it and then the tracks leave the snow.
Last direction they were heading was down the ridge, so that is the direction I go.
A short time later I spot a guy walking out of a little valley with his sleeves rolled up and a knife in his hand. I glassed his tracks in the snow until I spotted an elk that had been gutted. It was a different bull. Damn.
I continued to glass the bowl for a while, and could see human tracks in the snow. I followed them along....... my elk! There he was. It appeared the guy I had spotted had either shot both elk, or the one I had shot at had made it a very long way before he died. I hunkered down and waited. A while later here comes the same guy, but now he has a friend. They walk down to the little bull and put a tag on him.
Normally I would be a bit upset about a guy dumping two bulls and then having his friend tag it, but not this time. I was happy that there wasn't a wounded elk running around, or worse yet, dead in a place I couldn't find it.
I picked up a rifle last spring that had belonged to a friend of mine that passed away. I bought two of his guns from his sister: a .54 cal muzzleloader, and a Safari Grade 700 in 8mm Rem Mag. The 8 Mag he bought new, and only ever fired 5 rounds out of it, and my uncle shot another 5, then it sat in his gun safe until he died. My uncle said he thought it was too pretty to take hunting. I, on the other hand, don't.
I made up my mind during the summer that I really wanted to try and take an elk with Ernie's 8 Mag, and a WT buck with his .54. Well, I managed the elk, but the .54 proved to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, every time I took it out.
The elk walked up on me while I sat in some big timber on a bitterly cold day. I had just finished my frozen sandwich, and was sitting cross-legged on a giant old fir log. I was getting cold and wanted to move on, but talked myself into holding out for another 15 minutes. I was just off a couple hour old set of cow and calf elk tracks by about 15 yards, and I figured if an elk was going to show up, he would pop into view at about 80 yards, directly in front of me. Well I'll be damned if that isn't exactly what he did.
He was walking at a steady pace, not rushing, but not wasting time either. I got the gun up to my shoulder without him seeing me, and pushed the safety off.... "CLICK". He stopped dead in his tracks, on full alert. Not being used to the rifle I had no idea how loud the safety was if you didn't control it while taking it off safe. The bull was almost completely face on, and I figured it was as good a shot as any.... then it dawned on me that although I knew it was a decent bull, I had absolutely no idea how many points he had as the top of his head and his antlers were obscured by a low hanging fir branch. There was no way I could get my binos up to look, so I just watched through the scope and waited. After a minute the bull started to walk again and I didn't have to look very hard to see there were more than 3 points on those antlers. The angle was still not great, but after the earlier issues I had with elk this fall, I was going to take him.
I slid my finger onto the trigger..... oh crap, I still have my mitts on. I slide my hand over to my face and pull the mitt back with my teeth. My (now) free finger finds the trigger just as the bull's angle improves and the Big 8 barks in my hands. The bull stops dead, tightens up, and falls over straight legged. He lays still for a second or two, then kicks wildly, throwing snow and dirt for 30 feet. He only kicks for a few seconds, lets out a breath of steam in the ice cold air, and then is still. Turns out he was a little 6x6.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_6-1-1.jpg
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_7-1-1.jpg
I hit him just inside the near shoulder, and I found the bullet stuck in the hide just behind the far shoulder. The 220 grain Sierra weighed 168 grains IIRC.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/image_3-2-1.jpg
Fortunately I had 4 friends with me that day, which made packing that elk out a breeze! Unfortunately I had 4 friends with me that day, so my freezer isn't near as full as I would like it to be!
On the very last day of the season I got up EARLY, and made the drive to my buddy's place in Brooks. He had missed a monstrous WT the day before, and wanted me to hunt with him one last time before the season ended. I packed the .54 and my .270 A-bolt into my Jetta TDi, cause it gets stupid good mileage. We would be taking my buddy's truck, so why pay for the extra gas to take my truck?
My buddy couldn't make up his mind how he wanted to approach the day's hunt. It was starting to get light and I was getting frustrated, so finally I said "just make up your mind already!" He decided he wanted me to walk across an open 1/4 until I hit a fence line, then I was to work my way back to him through the scrub. I had planned on sitting in a spot where I could get a good 70 yard shot, but now I was going to be lucky to see a deer at 200. It was also very foggy and snowing. Visibility was probably around 100 yards.
I decided to take the .270 and leave the .54 in the truck. Now, I had turned down 5 good little bucks that season with the 8 Mag, that I would have shot in a second with the muzzleloader. And sure enough, as luck would have it, what do I see walking right at me in the fog? A nice little 8 point buck. I went to my knees, then slid out on my stomach. Little bugger sees me, and then walks by me at 40 yards..... would have been perfect for the .54.
I continue on with a nagging feeling that maybe, since it is the last day and all, I should have shot that buck. Too late now, and I continue on. When I reach the fence I hear a buck grunt a couple times off in the fog somewhere ahead of me. I bumped a few does out of a clump of brush, and decide that their beds would make a great spot to lay low for a while until the fog lifts a bit.
After sitting for about 20 minutes, I figure doing some calling might be in order. I make a series of grunts and doe bleats. 5 minutes later I make another series of calls, only louder. 5 minutes late, another series. I contemplate moving to a different spot. One more series of calls......
The fog and snow thins enough that I manage a reading with my rangefinder to a likely looking clump of brush; 287 yards. I contemplate some more calls, or maybe even rattling. I dig my rattling antlers out of my pack and scrape one of them on a branch for a bit. I pick up the other antler and am just about to start rattling when I notice movement; right where I had ranged. I get the binos up and.... buck. Better than the last. I get behind the rifle, make a small adjustment to the bipod, and flick off the safety.
The turret on the scope is set for 250, but the buck is moving straight at me, and fast. I figure he is going to stop at the fence between us, which I had ranged at 140, so I quickly take off all the elevation; should put me 1" low at 140. Deer walks to the fence and hops right over without so much as a pause. Now he is starting to move to my left, in an attempt to get the wind in his favour. I follow him through the scope. He keeps walking, and walking, and walking. For over 200 yards the deer has not stopped and he is about to hit my scent stream, so I hold tight inside his shoulder and send a 130 TTSX.
I have killed a lot of deer in my life, not as many as some, but a lot. Except for an occasional head (spine actually) shot, I have never, ever, seen a deer die like this one did. It was as if someone just flicked a switch. He hit the snow face first and never moved.... AT ALL. He didn't breath, he didn't twitch an ear, he didn't flick a leg.... nothing. He.... just..... stopped.
I dragged him over to the fence line, then remembered I had my calf sled in the truck.
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/photo-9.jpg
I got him in the truck, and then hunted with my buddy a little bit until there was a bunch of shots and the deer got pushed out. When we got to his house he said I could hang the deer in his garage if I wanted. "Why?" I asked. "Cause you brought your car?!?!?!"
Problem solved:
http://i731.photobucket.com/albums/ww311/ian_gazeley/Fall2012/JettaHuntingWagon.jpg