PJ BUCK

I had put in a lot of days and hours in the timber trying to find a buck and punch my tag. Hunting an area I have become very familiar with and learning its secrets with each day I spent in search of my Muley buck. The only problem was that not unlike past early rifle seasons, it was bone dry in the Jack Pine forests. The Bitter brush and pine needles were giving away my location with just about every step. I slowed way down, so much so that it was becoming fatiguing. My leg muscles were not accustomed to holding my foot up while I looked for a quiet-er spot to step. It became a wonderful sort of meditative stalk challenging my balance, strenght,  coordination and patience. It also brought me back to my alpine ski racing days in the sense of having to look many steps ahead and plan my route, much like skiing Slalom or Giant Slalom. All the while scanning visually throughout each step for that glint of white or an out of place branch. Something a bit askew that becomes an ear flicking from front to back and a glistening black nose that turns and catches you with eyes sharply focused, and you've just been busted!

I travel fairly light when I hunt this area, as I can hunt directly from my friends house without having to fire up the truck. I relish this experience and the ability to hunt right off the front porch and not having to drive to a specified location.
Hunting the timber means having to wait a bit longer for sufficient shooting light. Oh no problem, perfect to nab a second cup of strong coffee. I have adapted well without issue on that front. The early mornings are cool with temps in the 20's and low 30's then warming to mid 60's or even 70's by afternoon. Layering is key as is typical for Fall. I love the crisp mornings lightly frosted and the smell of seasonal changes as it stirs memories of past hunts, those successful and others not so much. More so the possibilities of what hunting encompasses and that of which is vast and leaves much to be experienced, even after close to 40 years afield. Every year, every hunt is special and unique, no two are ever alike .  .  .  thankfully!

Oops I digressed, back to my buck hunt. As I was noting the challenges  of an early season hunt there was plenty of fresh sign. There were  well defined rub lines and also lots of scrapes. Some of them were separated by not more than  a quarter mile, thus indicating several bucks in the vicinity. Just wasn't able to catch them in their zones during daylight. I did sneak in on a large doe the first evening and watched her browse on Bitter brush for about 10 minutes. It was fun mirroring her and finally we parted ways as my focus turned back to looking for horns. Mind you I am not a horn hunter, I don't have the luxury shall we say of being such an accomplished hunter or availability of multiple tags to fill each season. Oh and lets not forget location, location, location. Just as important here as in real estate, in fact maybe more so. After hunting hard for the better part of a week I returned to my temporary home for a day to regroup, rest and recharge.

I was optimistic as the forecast was finally calling for precipitation before my hunt was to end. Phew, I thought to myself this is just what I needed and indeed found new inspiration and focus. There were only 3 days left to the 10 day season and I was back with patience renewed by a brief respite.

I heard a distinct single "thump" that made my heart jump and my body stop in a nano second. It was the unmistakable sound of a hoof thumping semi hollow, duffy ground. My pulse quickened as my eyes strained to hone in on the location of this deer. I didn't know if it was a buck or doe. A flash of brown streaks through the trees and I catch a glimpse and follow its direction. I am squatting down and ready to shoulder my rifle if I am so lucky, and if I can muster a shooting lane akin to Swiss cheese. The deer stops less than a hundred yards away but I still can't see any horns. I slowly move to my left to gain a sliver of a shooting lane. Snort and then a series of "blows" and I'm busted as the deer alerts all creatures in the vicinity that there is a threat about. I did see a large bodied deer with big ears and a white rump but never did see horns. I surmise that at least I got a little closer than  previously, as most times out I hadn't even see a deer. Ahh, dang it as my heart sank a bit and at the same time feeling more motivated. The clouds were moving in and temps were on the rise from early morning. By mid afternoon the smell of rain was in the air. I was thrilled as I had only 2 more days left to hunt.

I returned to where I was staying and settled in for the evening and as is my habit, brought my rifle in the bedroom with me. More so as an optimistic possibility if there just happened to be a buck within eye shot of my friends house. I slept well and woke hours before daylight and stepped out to the front porch to take inventory of the weather mans accuracy. Yes indeed it had and was still raining. Yes, yes, yes, about time I exclaimed to myself, finally!

 I had a quick breakfast and waited for the downpour to subside a bit. Another  friend stopped by and we were shooting the breeze about my hunt so far and as he looked out the window he said, "there's some deer out there". This was about 7:30a.m. and the rain had turned to drizzle, so I thought to myself it's time to get dressed and get out hunting. I jumped out of the Lazy Boy and ran to the kitchen window just about the time one of the guys said "hey one of them is a buck, Terry do you have your rifle in the house?" I was already half way to my bedroom peeling up the carpet in my slippers at the time. I exclaimed excitedly, but quietly that I sure did and was fast en route to the laundry room door. There were 4 deer total and 1 little buck hanging with the girls. I looked at my friend over my right shoulder as I began to open the door and he was opening the clothes dryer door to stop it. I took a knee and took aim then squeezed and nothing! Dang it forgot to take the safety off, regroup. Internal conversation was something like this; try again, stay calm, focus, breathe don't get ahead of yourself, remember to squeeeze the trigger. BOOM! The little 2 x 3 buck dropped right in his tracks at 60 yards, the does scattered instantly. PHEW what a relief. I actually listened to myself and did what I needed to. Even being able to watch the little buck drop through my scope, never flinched or pulled the shot.

Hugs all around and the rain began to come down harder again. The boys were on their way out to look at my buck and I flew to get changed out of my pj's(literally, flannel pants, deerskin slippers and a sweatshirt) and into my Carhartts, flannel shirt and some decent footwear. Mind you, not exactly my typical hunting clothes.  None the less I had made a good shot, high through his neck not wasting an ounce of meat. It was also my first harvest with my Roberts 256 that I'd bought from my friend Larry 2 summers ago.

I had worked my tail off hunting for my buck and not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth I took the shot that presented itself. I had learned much in the days leading up to my success. I was patient and persistent and in the end who knows how it might have been different. This was how this hunt unfolded and I wouldn't trade a minute of it. I had a blast from start to finish and learned some things along the way too. It didn't take long to get my buck skinned,  field dressed and bagged up hanging. Wow, it happens so fast when you finally get the shot you've been looking for. That is one reason why I enjoy the entire process of hunting. All of it from start to finish. Ultimately leaving me dreaming about the next hunt, whenever, wherever that may be.

Women's Hunting Journal   Integrity For The Hunt

Season Update

So far it has been a slow hunting season with limited results. After spending the month of September archery elk hunting I switched gears to rifle deer and then some early season waterfowling. Harvest numbers throughout the state are well below average for deer and elk this year. The only days I've brought something home for the freezer has been with shotgun. Even the waterfowl hunting has been one of the poorest years to date so far.

Typically the Klamath basin in southern Oregon is brimming over with waterfowl, but not this year. There is a lull during the migration in mid November historically, yet this year we haven't even had decent early season numbers of migrating birds. The local breeding ducks we had are long gone or in a freezer now. With few northern storms pushing birds south it may be a very poor harvest for waterfowlers overall. Another important factor is the Columbia Basin grain fields and open water year round. Since the mid 70's when farming practices changed to include more grain crops the waterfowl numbers migrating south of the Columbia has dropped significantly. I can't blame the birds for not flying further. If I had food and water I'd probably stay there too for the winter. Certainly a matter of survival and they know the odds it seems and play them to their advantage. There is a saying that goes something like this: There is a time to try and a time to fly and a smart bird knows why.

I am preparing for the second season elk archery cow only hunt, which starts this Saturday and goes thru December 13, '09 on the west side of the Cascade Mt's. in a few select units. I am going scouting on Friday and with some luck maybe even bed down the elk. Sure would be a nice way to start the hunt, especially due to the fact that it will be in very thick timber and underbrush. It will be a wet hunt even if it doesn't snow or rain. We have had good snow in the mountains recently which will be helpful in pushing the elk to lower elevations. Fortunately the cows and calf's move down lower before the tough old bulls do. I will be getting up at o dark hundred, driving for an hour before getting to where I'll be hunting, then get out and commence to find tracks. If the weather gets nasty I'll spend time driving trying to cut fresh tracks before getting out on foot. Just have to take it a day at a time and be prepared for anything, including success.

This week has been sunny and mild temps reaching into the mid 50's and upper teens at night. Snow is in the forecast for Friday and Saturday, so I am once again optimistic about my upcoming hunt. Jet will be keeping the home fires stoked while I am away on my cow quest. Actually on our last duck hunt a week ago she was in rare form and quite enthusiastic about retrieving. Was refreshing after our previous weeks adventure. More on last weeks duck hunt later.

Jet and I want to thank you all for visiting the pages of Women's Hunting Journal and we wish you a safe and happy Thanksgiving. Will catch up with you all next week. Cheers!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Quick and Easy Crock Pot Stew

This is the most simple stew I have ever made and it is delicious. you can vary the meat according to what you have on hand. The same goes for most of the veggies too. That's the beauty of crock pots! Just about whatever you throw together is sure to please.

Ingredients:

Good Quality Olive oil
1 lb. wild game stew meat
1 lb. wild game breakfast sausage
1 large yellow onion
1 large potato
2 sticks celery
2 carrots
12 med. brussels sprouts
4 or 5 large garlic cloves
1 red or orange bell pepper
2 tbl. stone ground mustard
1 tbl. ground cumin
2 tbl. worcestershire sauce
2 14 oz. cans tomatoes w/diced garlic, oregano and basil
1 15 oz. can red kidney beans
1 14 oz. can mild or med. enchilada sauce

Preparation:

Into crock pot empty the canned goods and turn temp on high.
Put 2 tbls. olive oil in cast iron skillet and brown stew meat, then add to crock.
Next cook the sausage, basically ground meat with seasoning. Then add to crock
Chop onion and put in skillet and cook til translucent and add to crock. Make sure to scrape all the good stuff from the skillet bottom at this time
Cut potato, carrots, celery and add to crock
Quarter the brussel sprouts and add to crock
Chop garlic and toss in.
Add cumin, mustard and worcestershire
Add just enough water to cover all ingredients

Cover and cook on high til it starts to bubble around the sides of crock, then turn to low for 4 to 5 hours. Add pepper about 10 minutes before serving.
Garnish with a dollop of sour cream and a sprinkle of cilantro.

This makes many servings, just how many I am not sure . I guess approximately 6 to 8. What I like is that I can freeze a couple containers for later or my next hunting trip. This is a hearty satisfying meal and it only takes me 20 minutes to throw together. A lot of meals for a modest effort. Bon Appetit!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Code Of The West

Alright, you are gearing up for the big game season and you've got some green horns or flat landers in your party. Not the experienced, tried and true hunting partner you've had for the past many years. Which means ultimately there are going to be some bugs that need working out. What I am referring to is the split. So someone in your party harvests an animal and there was no discussion before hand about splitting up the meat . This can either break friendships or create long lasting ones. It is a serious topic which needs to be addressed before leaving home.

Imagine, you just worked your a-- off helping to pack out a big Elk that your friend shot. This was on the next to last day of the season and everyone is celebrating up until the conversation turns to sharing the spoils. Soon you realize that you won't be getting your share. Instead of making a big deal about it you keep your mouth shut and remember to never hunt with that person again. You are more than a bit peeved and rightly so.

Anymore if I hunt with someone new I make a point of discussing it thoroughly. If you are all out there for the same reason and put forth an effort than it ought to be split fair and square. With my friends we call it the code of the west. My hunting partner John and I are about fairness and reciprocating. We make sure if we hunt with a newby that we are all in agreement about sharing of the meat. That way there are no surprises or hurt feelings and everyone has a good time.

Just curious to hear how the rest of you big game hunters and huntresses address this or don't before you head out. Have you had some hurt feelings or folks you won't hunt with anymore or both? What are your codes of the west ?

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Wetlands Buck

I had a wonderful deer hunt this past weekend. I even surprised myself on a few counts. I left town last week having some social commitments to address before getting settled in for my deer hunt which opened on Saturday Oct. 4 th.

I had been keeping watch on 5 bucks in a specific area of southern Oregon where I also spend time waterfowl hunting. I arrived a few days early to continue scouting and to hopefully, locate the bucks. The weather turned cold, wet and windy. I was a bit worried they might leave the area in search of cover. I was in sight of them 2 days prior to opening and on Friday I never saw any of the bucks. The weather was whipping up a strong S.S.W. wind and I figured they headed for cover. I was beginning to realize how ill prepared I was for inclement weather. I didn't bring my rain gear, warm coat, fingerless gloves or a warm hat. What the heck was I thinking? I had at least washed my hunting clothes in Atsko Sport-Wash as well as sprayed them with UV Killer before I left home. So I felt confident that my clothing wasn't going to give me away. It poured most of Thursday and again on Friday. Fortunately I had some friends coming to stay with me Friday night after their sons football game, so I asked Dan to swing by my house and grab some gear for me as they departed Central Oregon for the small town of Ashland, Oregon.

Dan, Pam and their son Zac arrived late Friday night after the game. We stayed up and talked into the early morning hours. Zac and Dan filled me in on the game, and their opponents quarterback before nodding off around 1:00 a.m. I had my alarm set for 5:30 a.m. and didn't even need it. I was awake by 5 and up with coffee brewing by 5:30. Dan and I were the only ones awake and enjoying our first cup of coffee. Hell, it's not like I even needed any coffee, as I was already spinning, twittering and anxious as a fox in a hen house to get out and begin my deer hunt. I had a bite to eat as I double (quadrupled) checked that I had packed the gear I needed in my fanny pack. Dan and I chatted about past deer hunts we've had, as we anxiously waited for daylight to break in hopes that the bucks would show themselves. It was 6:50 a.m. and barely daybreak as we both strained to find the bucks in the lowlands.

"There they are," I exclaimed as calmly as is possible for me on an opening day. Dan saw them too. They were in the field beginning to move around and feed. I wanted to wait and see which direction they would commit too. Either moving to the North for protection from the strong winds or else going into the wetlands and bedding down on a grassy dike amongst the tules and long stem bulrush. I was out the door a few minutes later as they seemed to be heading into the wetlands to bed down. Dan wished me luck and was watching from the cabin using my 10 x 42 bins, while Pam and Zac were still sleeping soundly.

I layered up as best as I could and took the long way down from the hill remaining out of eye sight of the bucks. There were 2 of them, the big 4 x4 (or better) and his smaller buddy a stout (bench leg) forked horn. I worked my way down onto the lower slopes of the hill and began glassing. I saw the forked horn briefly as he followed the larger buck into the wetlands crossing 2 ditches and going out of sight. I eased my way up the hill glassing every few steps to see where they were bedding down. To no avail after an hour and a half I never did see them. Knowing full well they were in there I called Dan and asked if he saw where they went? He saw them slip away into the tules and not come out. I told him I will either take the road or go right in after them, but I wasn't sure what I was going to do yet. We hung up and I began my stalk.

I had the wind in my face from the south at about 10 to 15 mph with the occasional gust nearing 20 or more. It was perfect. The low clouds were holding back their impending showers and I was counting my blessings. I moved to where the bucks crossed the 2 ditches and made my decision to go in after them. This was going to be my best option considering how tall the vegetation was. My new Irish Setter boots were now christened, as I was wet up to my knees after crossing the ditches. There was a dike with a decent channel of water on the other side of it. I inched my way very slowly, staying at the edge of where the dike bank met the flooded marsh lowlands. I would take a few steps then look around and glass for the bucks as I headed for the area where they have bedded down before. It was just behind and off to the side of an old telephone pole on top of the dike that I was following. The distance was not more than 75 yards, yet I took my time realizing this will be my best chance, if not my only one.

It took me about 45 minutes to get within 10 feet of the telephone pole. Then the grasses, tules and bulrush were blocking my view. I sat there a minute studying the vegetation in front of me. I was thinking to myself that they have got to be right here! Moments later I saw the outline of an antler, then an ear and realized it was the forked horn. He was looking right at me, bedded down, well at least facing my direction. My heart instantly began pounding and adrenaline flooded my veins. I was kneeling, with my butt on my heels. I looked around me and realized I was at the end of my stalk. If I moved to my right the telephone pole would block my shot and if I stood to try and find the big buck I may not get a shot at all. So I rolled my safety off and made a clean shot on the forked horn. His head dropped and he died instantly. I was within 15 feet of him and neither buck heard or saw me, wow! I waited about a half minute just to make sure he was done before I got up to go to him. As I stepped into the open the big buck was still bedded til he saw me then he sprang to his feet and gave me a 1 second "buck in the headlights look" and then bolted across the ditch. Wow, he was big and knew right where to lay. His little buddy had saved his a-- this time.

I gave Dan a call and told him I had the forked horn down. He said he never heard the shot over the wind, but only saw the big buck bolt out of there. So, he and his son Zac came down and gave me a hand getting him drug out of the marsh and onto dry ground to begin field dressing him. We found a grassy slope and I began field dressing my buck. This was the first time for me to do this on my own, and I guess I fretted about it enough so that it all went without a single hitch. PHEW! Dan and Zac helped by holding the bucks legs apart which was a big help, as was their moral support. We got the buck field dressed, skinned and was done by noon.

Pam came out and watched the skinning and offered to get some coffee going. That was the best tasting cup of coffee that I've had in a long time. I was a bit chilled by the wind and if it wasn't for adrenaline, I'd have been much colder. After the buck was all taken care of we sat down to a fine brunch and recollected about the mornings adventure. I was so thrilled to have my friends there and be a part of the hunt. Memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Thanks for your help Dan, Zac and Pam, there will be some venison in your future!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Bachelor Bucks

It seems that the older I get, the faster times slips by. I have been busy trying to get work completed before hunting season is in full swing, as well as doing some scouting and the rest of life's day to day chores. On a recent trip I was able to find this small group of bachelor bucks who weren't to concerned about my presence. This is near a rural Eastern Oregon town of which needs to remain anonymous until after the season is over, or I have harvested one of these fine fellows. They are what is termed a "bench leg" deer. That being a mix of Mule Deer and Black tail because they cross over in to each others habitat zones, and inter breed. The ears are a bit shorter than your typical Mule Deer and the forehead considerably darker in some. Yet they have fairly heavy bodies and the wits of both, making them a challenge for sure. These boys have been hanging out for the past month in the same area, and I sure hope they continue to do so into the first weekend of October when the season opens. Just thinking about them everyday makes me a bit nervous and excited. Don't know if I'll find them again or if they'll give me the slip and be gone, gone, gone. It is called hunting for a reason and regardless of the outcome, I will have a good time just being out there. The chase is what really gets me excited, trying to out wit the wily critters on their own turf. So often I am an awkward visitor at best and as those who have gone before me say, "I would rather be lucky than good any day" I am in full agreement.

There are still some things I need to get done before the season opens, like making sure my rifle and I are still on target and sighted in like we were when I put it away last winter. I shoot a Remington 7 mm Mag. and absolutely love it. It came with a Sims Limbsaver recoil pad and the recoil is very mild. I have a Leupold 3 x 9 by 40 VX 2 scope and so far it has treated me very well. I use shooting stix and sight in using them to make things as realistic as I can. I also check it on a bench and do a few off hand shots as well, just to be as comfortable as I can be. There is no substitute for shooting, the more you do it the better you'll be. Then again, when facing your moment of truth be it whatever season it is, nothing can get you prepared for the excitement of seeing that animal in your cross hairs. So stay calm, keep breathing and act like it is practice until after you've squeezed the trigger. Then get excited and twitchy.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Being Present

I must admit that whenever I leave home to go hunting I do have expectations. I don't expect to get my daily limits when hunting birds, or filling my deer or elk tags. Nope, my expectations are about just being there and being present. A witness for whatever takes place during my brief time in the field.

When Larry and I were deer hunting last year, we had the pleasure of witnessing the migration of Greater White Fronted Geese. We were in the woods, and I remember hearing that distinctively high pitched "laugh" of Specs. I looked up and saw a flock in formation heading right for Thompson Reservoir. When I first heard them it seemed out of place, I knew what the sound was although my reference was from a different geography. I was thrilled to be able to hunt deer and be serenaded by Specs at the same time. They continued coming to the reservoir throughout the night too. It was wonderful listening to them as we drifted off to sleep. Very special.

When I was goose hunting last year I had a cool experience with Western Meadowlarks. I was heading back to the cabin with 1 Canada Goose in hand, through about a foot of snow with drifts being 2 to 3 feet deep. I saw a coyote trail following along the edge of the dike in the field. Ah, the path of least resistance I thought to myself. So I am walking slowly, pacing myself and enjoying just being there. Noticing the Northern Harrier's hunting the fields and dikes for voles and Red Tailed Hawks looking for like opportunities. The sun is breaking through the ground fog and it is starting to get warm. I shuffle my load and take a layer off, then continue.

Up ahead in the snow I see where the coyote tracks circled around several holes in the snow. I wonder to myself what they found if anything. As I get closer W. Meadowlarks start coming out of the holes in the snow. About a dozen of them, What? I have never seen such a sight in my life. Maybe I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing. . . I stop in my tracks to see for sure. Yea, I am seeing what I think I'm seeing. I get to within about 10 feet of the holes, and watch several more fly out of the snow. I can hear them scurrying about under the snow pack. Then silence as they realize I (a predator) am near. It has been cold for several days, in the teens and single digits. They have figured a way to stay warm by using the insulating qualities of the snow. Not to mention I bet there is an enormous abundance of insects for them to forage on in the grasses and weeds. I apologize for rousting them out unintentionally and go on my way. I couldn't help but notice their striking lemon yellow throat and belly, bordered by a black breast band. I enjoyed their song on that cold December morning. What a pleasant surprise that I will cherish for many years to come.

The next day I put out my G and H goose shells, plus my silhouettes and hunkered in my ground blind. Tossed a white vinyl mattress cover over my blind to try to blend in to the snow a bit better. I am hunting a large snow covered field with the tops of Triticale ( a cross between Rye and Wheat) visible above the snow. The weather was light overcast and warming into the mid twenties by noon. Pretty comfortable actually. After laying there for about 3 hours and listening to geese off in the distance, I was just about to get up and stretch my legs when I had a visitor drop in. To give you a brief outline of how I lay in a ground blind, just imagine a statue. I do my best to not move unless I absolutely have to. So, this visitor drops in unannounced and lands at my feet on my blind. It's a W. Meadowlark. Wow I say to myself, and become statue woman again. I heard his toenails on the vinyl as he landed. I keep my eyes on him and he starts hopping his way up towards my head. Just as lemon yellow as you can imagine. Wow, Wow, he stops on the mesh camo covering my face. I have to close one eye to be able to focus on him. O.K. now I am holding my breath and watching him up close and personal. Seeing his little toenails on the mesh as he checks out his surroundings. He does have a bit of a serious bill and I hope he doesn't start probing below the mesh. After about a minute he flies off, neither probing nor pooping just perching for a moment. I take a deep breath and say thank you for the visit. Then I was so thrilled I could hardly stand it. I had to give my friend John a call and tell him what just happened. He is one of those rare men that notices the small things and has an appreciation for such. Phew, alright now I can go relieve myself!

You know, I never fired a shot all day and this was one of my most memorable hunts ever!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Mule Deer 2007

My friend Larry and I were hunting the Silver Lake unit in Central Oregon. Finally, we had drawn tags. The plan was to let most of the insanity of opening weekend, settle down a bit before we began our hunt. So we set up camp on Monday and started hunting on Tuesday. Larry had a great camping spot all picked out next to Thompson Reservoir. A beautiful little bay with our own assortment of waterfowl as well as hawks and owls.

Our first day was spent checking out the general lay of the land and deer tracks. There were lots of deer tracks and it seemed just about as many people tracks too. I wasn't thrilled with how many people and rigs there were driving around. We spent Wednesday trying to find the greatest distance between roads, then get out and hunt on foot for the rest of the day. By that night we knew, we had to get away from the roads and people if we were to have a chance in hell of seeing a buck. For me, I was becoming a bit disillusioned with the prospects of filling my tag. Seemed like a needle in a haystack. Larry reassured me and said we're doing the right thing. Being relatively new to big game hunting, I trusted him and did my best to stay positive. I know they can be right around the next bend, or draw or right in front of you when you least expect it. And with those thoughts the butterfly's in my belly returned every time.

We spent some time studying our maps and making a plan for Thursday. We had slept in on Thursday morning, and it was just what we both needed. Had a good breakfast, a quick "camp shower" and got our day packs ready for the afternoon and evening hunt. We got to a good looking draw and the road ended there. Perfect we said, so this is where our hunt began.

We dropped into this dry creek bed with rim rock and we each took a side and headed up. Eventually we came back together because it was to brushy to walk through. We got to some open ground with Mtn. Mahogany thickets and some fresh deer and elk tracks. Ummm, we say to one another. This is looking better, not to mention we haven't seen another person or rig since we started today. We are paralleling each other about 150 yards apart, when we both caught sight of movement ahead of us. We look to one another and Larry signals me to meet him. I move his way and he waves me to pick up my pace, so I do. He tells me he saw 5 deer, 2 bucks and a couple does. We split up and have our eyes peeled. We are dropping into the upper end of the creek that we started out in earlier in the day. I lose sight of Larry then I hear one loud 30-6 BOOM! I think to myself alright he got his Buck, and then I wonder which direction the rest of the deer are headed. I move faster to get into some cover and I see movement to my left. I drop to my right knee and hope it's a buck. It is, he stops at the edge of the trees before entering a small clearing to make sure it's safe. My heart is pounding in my ears, pupils fully dilated and then he steps out and begins to trot. A big 4 x 4 Muley Buck at 65 yards. Oh my god I can't believe this. I begin telling myself to be calm, don't miss, don't blow it, etc. etc. As I shouldered my gun he caught my movement, stops and looks right at me not knowing what to make of me.I think to myself for a split second "my camo is working". I steadied myself as best I could and squeezed off a round. He dropped to his chest and stumbled downhill and across the creek and piled up. Just as I heard a Jeep come round the corner below me. The fellow driving asked if it was a spike and I said "nope, a 4 point".
I told him the spike was with the does and he grunted something and drove off. Wow, Larry and I had our bucks, and within a minute of each other too. He passed on the 4 point, as it was leading and he wanted to do his best to keep them moving in my direction. So he anchored the 3 point and his plan worked flawlessly.

Well the work begins and it's getting dark fast. We get the
bucks gutted and we drag Larry's buck down to mine. He asks if I have fire starter materials and am o.k. staying with the Deer? Yep on both counts. He checks his GPS and makes a b-line for the truck. It's a little after 6:00p.m. and I have a quick snack and make sure I put my knife away. Then I find my headlamp and gather some material for building a small warming fire. It's about 8:00 now and I can see frost beginning to settle so I get a fire going. Ahh, the comforts of a fire. Especially when you have 2 dead deer and 2 fresh gut piles. This is Cougar country. Needless to say I didn't lay my rifle down for anything. Finally I hear some static on my radio and then I see headlights bouncing off the trees. Alright he found me. Not until we saw the fellow in the jeep did we realize there was a road here. It took Larry a bit to backtrack and play Let's Make A Deal . . . is it road #1 or 2 or 3?

We got the bucks back to camp around 10 p.m. and then spent several hours skinning and wiping them down. We were wired and tired and stayed up til 3 a.m. talking about our hunt. That is my first Mule Deer Buck and I owe Larry a big steak dinner for passing on him and taking the 3 point. What a great hunting partner and friend, thanks again Larry!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Idaho Sets Quotas For Wolf Management

For the first time since the re-introduction of the Gray Wolf in Idaho, hunters will take part in managing reintroduced Gray Wolf numbers. Reintroduction of wolves is a very controversial topic for all parties. From the big game hunters to the ranchers to the environmentalist. Nothing gets individuals fired up as quickly or passionately as the discussion of wolves and their reintroduction. Personally I have mixed feelings on the subject.

Ultimately I feel that the Gray Wolf will get the short end of the stick. The wolf numbers need to be managed, if we as hunters want to continue to hunt big game. Each states respective Fish and Game Department will determine wolf management strategies. In N.E. Oregon the wolves have decimated the Elk herds. Or at least, that's what I hear from local outfitters. I feel it's only a matter of time before our own state is faced with the same wolf management decisions as Idaho. Read the full story, http://www.mtexpress.com/index2.php?ID=2005120796

I encourage comments on this topic. I'm interested in finding out if there is a middle ground that can be struck.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt