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

Scrambling, Spinning and Quandering

Where in the world has the time gone? I have been in a vacuum of sorts lately. Spinning in circles and wondering if I am making any headway at all.

Spring cleaning turned into staging my house to put it on the market. It has never ever been this tidy or clean. If anyone is interested in a nice home that is an easy keeper here in Central Oregon please raise your hand NOW! Time for me to scoot back up the road and get into Bend proper. Here's the listing information and as always please email me with any questions.

What else is new? Well going to see the Dr. this morning and hopefully I will be able to start doing some cardio. my knee is doing much better and with the warmer weather just days away I am really getting the itch to get out on my road bike. In all reality though that may not happen for a bit longer. Patience, patience, patience. I do realize in the big scheme that it's only been 2 1/2 months since I got hurt and I only wish I had a faster metabolism these days. I'll tell you, when he says I can start walking miles, you can bet I'll be putting them in! So will my little hunting buddy Jet. Time to shed a layer and I'm not talking clothes either.

My work in the shop has come to a screaching halt and I continue to stay optimistic in an ever disappointing economy. It's better than the alternative in my book. Guess I'll make some more bird houses. I am hoping to get down to Lowlands in May and do some birdwatching. It's a great place and a wonderful time of year. The mating rituals are in full swing around here now. Have lots of Red Crossbills, White Crowned Sparrows and some Tree Swallows hanging around my home now. Several other species too, but those are the cream of the crop for now.

The 8th. Annual Quail Flats Wild Game Feed is scheduled for next weekend and looks to be a wonderful turnout with all sorts of good food. Will let you know the details post event. Lets just hope it doesn't snow.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Wapiti

This season's Elk hunt began with the usual enthusiasm and energetic spirit. My friend John and I didn't draw our controlled hunt tags, so we hunted the Cascades general rifle season. Neither of us had heard any news regarding Elk numbers in the region, so we went about our business and put in our time.

We hunted in the same area as last year, so we are getting to know it better and better. We had permission to hunt private property adjacent to public land. We hunted the same season last year, so we were somewhat familiar with it. When it comes to Elk it pays to scout and get to know your hunt unit as best you can, and even then there is certainly no guarantee you'll be successful in harvesting an Elk. We had heard sightings of 2 bulls in the area the day before the season opened. One a 5 point and the other a 6 point. We never saw either of them, yet our hopes were high that we might get lucky. It seems that they know when the season opens and when it closes and make themselves able to evaporate in a moments notice.

The weather leading up to opening day had turned mild with cold nights and sunny days. No precipitation and a growing moon. This is your typical Indian Summer, yet not so welcomed when it's hunting season. Also known as bluebird weather by the waterfowlers. Anyhow we crunched our way through the timber and over hill and dale to no avail. We worked the low river bottoms covered with Willows and only once did John push a couple Elk out of their hidey hole. The cover was so thick that a shot was not possible. My heart raced with the sounds of antlers ticking through the willows and the hooves pounding along the edge of the stream. It is so darn frustrating to have adrenaline surging and yet unable to use it. It is like an invisible target that you can hear but not see. For such a large animal as Elk are to be able to hide themselves so well is truly amazing. Hiding in plain sight, the elusive obvious. I do wonder what I did not see and was I ever close enough for a shot? Those questions will remain unanswered, yet I give myself the benefit of the doubt and say nope, and repeat the question.

We were in the woods before daybreak and back to camp after dark every day and saw very few tracks. I never did find fresh droppings, not even close. The few tracks we did find were from night time movement or just before day break. No frost in the tracks, yet no Elk in the tracks either. The dirt was very dry and little moisture in the ground. Up in the woods was even tougher to track with the pine needles and no moisture. After 5 full days of hunting our optimism was seriously waining. We hadn't heard of many bulls being taken. Also with fewer hunters in the field it was tougher to get the Elk pushed out of their hiding spots. Just to much real estate to cover. We put in a solid 1/2 day on this past Thursday then called it. Neither John or myself throw in the towel easily and yet, we just didn't see enough fresh sign to convince us to go back out Friday for the last day of the season. The tracks we saw were only a handful of Elk at most, no large numbers. As John says "Elk are like gold, they're where you find them". Truer words were never spoken.

So we called her quits and broke camp all the while scratching our heads. We had a fun time none the less and saw River Otters, White headed Woodpecker, lots of Specs and other waterfowl. We groused (startled) a Grouse and he Groused us back and all the while figuring we'd have limits of Specs if only we had our shotguns with us. We ate like kings and queens, laughed and told stories and enjoyed our time together in the pursuits of the still elusive Wapiti. We are already discussing next years controlled hunt and the points that we have. Hopefully we will draw our tags and have something to put in the freezer when we return home. I guess ordering that half beef wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Going The Distance . . . Pt.3

Pt.1
Pt.2

Oh my aching body! I think to myself as I begin to wake up from a fitful slumber. The wind howled all night slamming into the west side of the cabin. Then we heard some rain, not good. Oh boy, this will be a doozey of a day. After about 10 minutes of rolling around in bed I began the process of trying to get to my feet. This was not pretty, nor was it a graceful sight. My hip flexors were screaming at me from being bent over, head down pushing the boat and having to high step the foot plus deep snow. O.K. lets take this slow, we are not in any rush. Larry is groaning too and agreed that we not be in a rush. The coffee tasted great and for a minute I forgot how much I was hurting. Jet and Oyster (Larry's Brittany) are eagerly awaiting their breakfasts. So we finally get moving after a hearty meal ourselves.

The weather is overcast with drizzle and a warm SW wind. Going to be a wet one today. We drive to the dike and start walking out to the river in a slow metered pace. I am looking forward to the snow melting as this will make walking less painful. We get the field shells set and because the wind is so strong we decide not to put out the floaters. The Klamath River has whitecaps and waves nearly 3 feet high. It was the right decision cause we only spent about 2 hours hunkered in and called it a day. Nothing was flying, absolutely nothing! No hawks, no Mergansers, Magpies or even Marsh Wrens. They knew long before us what was going on. We picked up the field shells before they blew away and headed back to the cabin. The wind was so strong I had to lean into Larry. We couldn't hear each over the wind. No doubt, we were a bit nuts to be out there. So we hung out in the cabin and took it easy, still hurting from yesterday's efforts. It was out of our hands that the birds were grounded for the day. We'll try it again tomorrow.

So it is day 3 and the pain upon waking is a little less than yesterday. The best news is that the warm wind and rain have melted much of the snow. We were able to drive closer to the river and less walking which is a big relief. The storm had passed and all was calm again in the basin. We began the usual routine; me setting out field shells and Larry putting out the floaters. Most of the river ice was gone. All that remained is the large shelf ice on some of the corners. There will still be work to keep decoys clear of ice chunks, but at least we have open water at the rivers edge on our side now.


There are geese across the river in the fields and even some Goldeneyes and Scaup on the river. We get comfy in the tules and are optimistic we'll get some shooting. We heard geese as we were setting out the decoys, glad they didn't all leave the Klamath Basin. I was doing some light goose calling when, out of nowhere came 4 geese right into our decoys on the river. They were in total stealth mode. We rolled around and eventually got to a position to shoot from, and as luck would have it we got all 4. This time we had a couple in the river to retrieve but they were dead and in open water, phew. We hunker back down and waited patiently for a couple hours before we had a few more geese come our way. We were 1 shy of a two possession limit and the last goose we shot was a cripple that landed in the river. We both got in the boat and began the wild goose chase. It took us rowing hard over a 1/4 mile before we got into range. That goose had us frothing in sweat before we finally got within shooting range and put it out of all our misery.

We headed back and began breaking down our set. The sun was coming out and we were tired and ready to call it a hunt! Fortunately we were able to drive to the river and load up all our gear, especially the boat. Otherwise I was going to leave it in the ditch til Spring. We agreed that we were indeed a bit nuts, as we chuckled about the great goose hunt boat drag of 2004. Wondering just how long that dike really is?




Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Going The Distance . . . pt. 2

pt.1

We have worked our tails off by the time we get our modest spread of goose decoys in the water. Now we keep our fingers crossed that the water will stay open for awhile. This is challenging hunting for sure and patience is important. Even more difficult is continuing to keep the ice chunks out of your open spot. The river is still flowing, so anything that gets a hold of decoy lines can be trouble. Thus making your decoys look more like cord wood than decoys.

Anyhow, we gave each other a big pat on the back and a, "I can't believe we did that" look then began to settle in. We were tired, and rightfully so. We'd just dragged a 10' Jon boat down a 1/4 mi. snow covered dike, with all the trimmings in it for a river goose hunt.

The sky was overcast and the air temp around freezing. Quite balmy for a January day on the Klamath River. We were comfortable laying in the tule's at the edge of the river. All we had to cover ourselves was some camo burlap. Just across the way in the fields the geese were really chatting it up, and I was getting that warm feeling all over anticipating the fruits of our efforts. It was about mid afternoon and we heard wing beats and before we knew it, the convention across the river was breaking up. It wasn't more than 20 minutes after we had our little patch of open water that we had geese trying to land in it.

We both had our faces covered making it tough to see what the geese were doing, and who was going to give the signal to shoot. Well, needless to say it all worked out just fine. The first small flock doing a fly by, made the mistake of swinging over the river dike for their final approach. We could hear their wing feathers cutting through the air and especially those that were a bit out of place or worn. We rolled, jumped up simultaneously and fired 5 shots and had 5 dead geese on the dike immediately behind us. Larry dropped them quicker than I could believe and and not a single cripple. WOW! I knew it would work, I just knew it! I was thrilled beyond belief and we were well on our way to our daily possession limit. It just about seemed to easy. Last thing you want to do is have to retrieve a goose out on the river ice somewhere. So, we timed our shots so as to attempt to drop them over the dike or fields immediately behind us. We kept our dogs at the cabin cause conditions were sketchy at best. I didn't do much calling, just enough to let them know which direction to get to open water. The next group came and we had our limits. It was the most economical hunt that I had had in a long time.

We were grinning from ear to ear and Larry had now experienced a goose hunt of a lifetime. Re invigorated from our success we began the careful process of retrieving the decoys. Getting the boat on the ice pointed in the right direction, with the rope tied between the boat and head gate in the ditch behind us. Larry carefully scooted the boat towards the open water then gets in it and continues to inch his way over the ice to the decoys. Using a combination of the oars and mall to get there while I keep a semi taught line from the bank. The ice is slicker now from the first time that the boat was pulled over it from the open water. Larry carefully slips the boat into the water and picks up the decoys. He gets to the edge of the ice and I give it the old heave ho and get'em on top and pull him on in. That was the easy part. Relieved that it went smoothly, we drag the boat over the dike top into the ditch behind us and stow the gear for the night.

Now the walk back to the truck. . . again. Only this time with 4 Canada Geese each. It was just about pitch black when we finally got to the truck, tired, hungry and even a bit amazed with our efforts. We grabbed a quick meal and some more coffee, then began plucking etc. It was 11 p.m. before we finished processing the 8 geese. I was starting to get more than a bit stoved up and was wishing I hadn't quit drinking the firewater. We were both exhausted, totally spent and I knew we'd be paying for it tomorrow. After all, this was only day one of our 3 day hunt. Larry was feeling it too. I guess Tylenol pm will have to do for now.

Don't go to far, Pt. 3 is on its way!

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Going The Distance . . . pt.1

The story I am going to share with you all is perhaps the most dedicated, die hard, insane and fruitful wild goose chases, I have ever had the pleasure of participating in.

The following events took place at a location known as Lowlands, in the Klamath Basin of southern Oregon. My good friend Larry and I set out on a cold morning to hunt geese in early January of 2004.

There was quite a bit of snow and the flooded fields, as well as most of the ditches were froze up. The local waterfowl population was long gone by now and only migrating Canada Geese were in the vicinity. We decided to take some goose shells with us for the field and we'd give it a try, in hopes the river might not be completely frozen. We broke trail through the foot deep snow for about a quarter mile or so before getting to the river. Well, there were geese across the river in the fields, although the entire Klamath River was frozen solid. Ummm, as we hunkered in after setting up our field shells I kept thinking to myself, "all we need is open water". Eventually I began repeating this out loud to Larry. The geese were pressured to find open water and need to drink on a daily basis. They can go days without food if they have to, but not water.

Because of all the snow we were unable to drive to the river and bring the Jon boat. So with much encouragement and enthusiasm I was able to convince Larry that what we had to do would be worth the effort. We headed back the same dike we came out and stepping in the" post holes" we'd made 2 hours earlier. We got back to the main road, jumped in the truck and headed up the hill to the cabin. We each grabbed a really strong cup of coffee, and began the checklist for our mission.

Life jackets? check
200' rope? check
8lb. splitting mall? check
Oars? check
Plug in boat? check
5 G and H floating goose decoys? check
Goggles/ eye protection? ? ?
Sanity? ? ?

We loaded the 10' Jon boat in the truck with all the gear and set off on our mission. Got back to the dike, parked and unloaded the boat with the gear in it when reality began to set in. "We're really going to do this, aren't we"? I was beginning to think I might have bit off more than I could chew this time. With the boat loaded, on the snow covered dike we commenced to drag it to the river. Larry was on point pulling and I was in the rear pushing with my head down hoping to stay in our tracks. We stopped a few times in order to keep shedding layers as we were really sweating buckets. The temperature was warming rapidly and the snow was sticking to the boat worse each time we stopped. It took us 40 min. to get there, but we made it! With a collective sigh we rested a few minutes, and listened to the geese chatting across the river. I was relieved they were still there.

Safety is always first when you do this sort of hunting. My mall has a whole drilled through the end of the handle just for the purpose of tethering it to the boat. (We've lost a few malls). The rope was our safety line between shore and the boat and always wear a life jacket when breaking ice on a river. It took awhile to get enough ice broke and cleared to set out our floating decoys. Larry did most of the ice busting and clearing, as it was about 4 inches thick and I was barely making a dent. Yes, these are the extremes to which a die hard dedicated huntress and hunter will go through for the opportunity to shoot a wild goose.

With a modest puddle of open water about 40 feet off the bank with 5 G and H floaters in it, I was feeling more optimistic by the minute. We had gone far and above the average hunters efforts, and I had a real strong hunch the pay off was just a field away.

Part 2 later this week.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Cabin Work

I am headed to Lowlands tomorrow with my good friend Dan. This is where I waterfowl hunt as well as some Pheasant hunting. It is in Southern Oregon in the Klamath basin, once a mecca for waterfowling. There is a modest cabin at this location that a few of us use. Being the resident woodworker, I typically do a few minor improvements during the off season. This trip Dan and I are replacing the sink counter and adding an extended counter next to it. The best part of this improvement is that the sink will now be at its proper 36"H. Another member did this counter originally and it has stood for some 20 years. Although it was built at 32"H. and needless to say gets to be a back breaker after awhile. So Dan dropped off donated materials yesterday at my shop and I have been busy cutting, ripping and figuring. Doing as much as I can before we get there tomorrow. We will also re-do the shelving in the mud room and dispose of any and all items which are no longer of use. When you have a small space, optimizing is critical. The cabin has 3 beds, a frig, wood stove and hot water tank. The thought of a shower has become part of the conversation of recent years. Maybe just do a small addition, it really wouldn't take to much. Oh and how good that would feel after a wet, cold day of hunting. Heck I may not want to come home . . . ever! Well I guess I'd eventually need to do some laundry and catch up on e-mail etc. Shucks, still sounds pretty darn good to me.

We are going to take our shotguns and shoot some skeet during our "work" breaks. Also taking our .22's and shoot some Sage rats (Belding's Ground Squirrels) and Marmots. Oh and lest we not forget, we will be in Skunk habitat. We will take our bins (binoculars) and go for some bird walks along the Klamath River. Typically there are White Pelicans, Western Grebes, Terns, Gulls, and a plethora of local waterfowl. We even have 1 to 2 pairs of nesting Sandhill Cranes on our property, very special indeed!

The top photo is from 2006 when my friend John and I replaced the old aluminum track windows with energy efficient vinyl windows. Wow what a difference that has made. The bottom photo is looking to the South with the Klamath River. off in the distance. I put in the fixed counters last year and we disposed of an oval table. Sure has made it easier to sweep the floors and come and go out the door without the table being in the way. The Fung Shway is far from perfect, yet isn't that what makes "hunting cabins" what they are? Gotta go get busy, have a great weekend everybody!

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

Quail Flats Annual Wild Game Feed

This is an event that I have been doing for several years now and a great source of new game recipes. One of the experiences I enjoy about all types of hunting is being able to share wild game with my non hunting friends. I ask my hunting friends to bring a wild game dish of whatever they're inspired to make. My other friends who don't hunt are asked to bring the side dishes, salads and desserts etc. The types of wild meat vary due to the success or lack there of during the previous season. This is quite informative to those who don't hunt. They seem surprised when there aren't any Elk dishes or Venison, let alone Bighorn Sheep etc. Well I tell them it's not as easy as it sounds, being successful each year harvesting Deer , Elk, etc. Sometimes we don't draw a tag and sometimes even when we do draw a tag, we still get outsmarted. After all, it is called hunting for a reason. This year is a fine example. The main dishes will be waterfowl served in a variety of ways and venison thuringer. Types of waterfowl will be Canada Goose cooked Parmesan Style and several species of ducks marinated in rosemary, orange juice and seasonings then barbecued. All harvested from the Klamath Basin in Southern Oregon this past season. The formal recipes will follow in a day or two, so be sure to check back in. There won't be any waders, wet dogs or soggy clothes to dry....just a lot of good food and more stories than you can shake a stick at......second thought, maybe I best keep my waders on hand.

Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt

Hunting In Montana

During my training in woodworking in Missoula MT. my friend Jerry and I would take advantage of days out of school. We hunted the Bitterroot River in icey conditions floating it in his canoe and jumpshooting ducks and geese. Some folks looked at us as though we has a few extra holes in our head...and we just smiled back. Maybe we got some birds that day or not, it was more about just being out in those wild places and being a part of something bigger than us.



Women's Hunting Journal Integrity For The Hunt