OH NO......IT'S SNOWING/TradGanger adventures and the hunt for old Crooked Horn.

[kojac]

great job guys!!

[Charlie Lamb]

Curtis... not sure I can swing the trip to Gunnison. Sounds great though and I'd like to see ya.

I still have a doe/fawn permit left to fill...that can change at any moment, but certainly not while I'm in front of the computer.

Be sure and take your super hero outfit... the mornings are...er...brisk!! This weekend is supposed to be "brisker".

Robin... anyone can shoot an antelope like that. If they have a month to do it! I'll share my secret for getting off that long some time. It's all based around being a pain in the arse until they say, "get the hell out of here!"
     :D

[hormoan]

Ok you two quit clowning around.
 
 

And get off the porch,
 
 


 

[Charlie Lamb]

Well Brent, it's raining like...er...cats and dogs?
  :D  

Really looks ominous off toward the western mountains. Charcoal colored clouds keep coming in waves and under them that life  giving liquid that so many take for granted.

It way over due and both Vance and I figure a change in hunting luck with the passing of the storm.

This is the first day of the sage hen season and we've just been waiting for a chance to get out. It's been doing this all day long with only minor breaks showing blue sky.

We did a little scouting yesterday afternoon and the prospects for fun with chickens seemed too good to be true.

They'll be there when the storm breaks and I don't want to be the one to complain about the moisture. I think you can be shot around here for even frowning at the weather.

If the temperature drops another 10 degrees tonight, we'll probably wake up to a coating of the white stuff.

The antelope have cleared out for whatever reason, with only scattered small bunches here and there across the length of the ranch.

Even Old Crooked Horn has broken from his usual habits. He's around and I can see him through the scope most anytime. He's just staying off in the flats with his girls.

Heck, the rut hasn't even kicked in seriously yet. We're still seeing small bachelor groups of bucks and none of the usual high speed chases between bucks like we normally do.

I'm thinking about cracking the seal on that jar of Kentucky "shine" just to kill the boredom. (I mean to celebrate the rain.
   

I did the entire interior of my truck this morning. Removed the dust (left my windows open because I thought little dust would get in the truck while it sits in the shop building), applied Armourall to all Vinyl surfaces, made the glass clearer than ever before and added a good coat of RainX.

In my idle time I even broke out the Glock and fired off a round. That would have worked out better if I hadn't got by thumb behind the slide. Ripped the nail right off and reminded me why I don't mess with guns.

Anyway, we're standing ready with bows strung, strings waxed and chicken arrows at the ready. When we get out, I'll have pics and stories about the adventure.... sure not gonna wait on Vance.

 

[Guru]

and Vance's story......

[Missouri CK]

Great read as always.

Congratulations Charlie on the awesome pronghorn.  

Can't wait to hear more.

Chris

[Whip]

Yeah Curt, that's what I was thinkin.  The old white bearded fellow still has some 'splain ta do  

[Jim Jackson]

Congrats Charlie.  I know Antilocapra americana has been elusive.  Nice to see you get a big buck! Congrats!

[Barney]

[Roughcountry]

Dang Vance, if it was the neibours herford you shot it's ok to tell the tale now. I'm sure the coyotes got the hide & brand drug off so's no one will find it.    

Get any chickens yet?

[hormoan]

OK the gloves are off,     I have pictures ya know


   

[Charlie Lamb]

Nine degrees!!! Yessir! nine degrees this morning. Brrrr. About frosted my cookies first thing this morning. What a night to run out of propane in the furnace!!

   

And that's what the last 4 days have been about... weather. Mostly it's been about rain and lots of it. Long slow soaking rain that's good for everything... everything except antelope hunting.

Those brown and white buggers go underground or something when it rains. They have sure vacated the ranch.

I finally got a break yesterday and with permission to hunt a different ranch I headed up the road.

Most of the morning was spent glassing for situations that would lend themselves to a stalk. Late in the afternoon one came my way.

[Charlie Lamb]

I'd watched one herd feeding in the sage above a hay meadow for quite some time and had decided that they had no interest in leaving the sanctuary of their wide open retreat.

There were twenty head in the group. All does escorted by a single, very respectable buck. The rut is in full swing now and bucks have their harems and will not stand intruders or even the distant approach of an outsider.

With my buck tag filled and a doe tag in my wallet, all I wanted was to relieve him of one of his does... a yearling would do just fine.

I went about my business but had little luck finding a situation I could do anything with. I needed a break and wasn't getting one.

After lunch I'd spotted a small group way down the creek and thought I might know where they were going. It would be a gamble, but it seemed to be all I had going on. But before committing to the long walk, I decided to check further up the creek.

Low and behold the twenty had decided to hit the hay meadow after all. They'd found a nice spot near the willows and had bedded down to process their latest meal.
It was the chance I'd been wanting. I quickly assembled my gear, slung my ghillie suit over my shoulder and cut a line directly across the creek bottom toward the herd.

Remember how I'd said I was hunting a new ranch. Well, that meant that there was a lot I didn't know about the property and the time I'd spent behind the lense of the spotting scope hadn't told me all I could have known either.

As I had for my buck I stopped at the creek and removed shoes and socks, leaving them slung over my shoulder after the crossing just in case I had to cross again.

It's just as well I did. As I was enveloped by the ten feet high willows I found that the whole bottom in that section was one soggy mess. Beaver runs were everywhere, making footing tricky and forcing me to watch every step carefully lest I step into a hole.

I thought constantly of the big bull moose I'd seen just the day before in this very section of willows.
Actually I was less worried about running into him than I was one of his lady friends that I knew had to be in there somewhere.
I could just imagine being up to my knees in mud and confronted by a cow moose with calf. I'd not be able to run through maze of muck and willow and would be forced to shoot it out with her.

I could think of a lot of reasons that wouldn't be a good scenario to be caught in.

(cont.)

[Caddo]

Char-lie, Char-lie, Char-lie......  

[beachbowhunter]

Fantastic stuff guys. This hunt keeps on giving!

[Charlie Lamb]

By the time I'd negotiated the "swamp", the antelope were up from their nap. I'd thought this was gonna be a piece of cake, but I should have known better.

The goats had moved from their little cove next to the willows and had moved out into more open country. There was, however, a chance that I could still close the distance if they'd just move behind an intervening clump of willows.

They'd have to all be out of sight or the plan wouldn't work.

As if the buck had read my thoughts he herded the girls into a clump and they ALL moved behind the screening cover.

I wasted no time closing the distance. My very last cover would be a lone willow right next to a very tight fence. No way could I get through the fence and make a final approach. I knelt down and waited.

As it turns out my luck was holding. Soon the girls came mincing out from behind the shielding willows headed for a gap in a cross fence that was just 20 yards from my position. PERFECT!!

This is going super, I thought to myself.
With no need to be picky I held my bow ready as the lead doe cleared the fence and passed my hideout.

Slowly and smoothly I bent the bow, when just an inch before anchor the wind blew the fringe on my ghillie mask (which I'd never used before) across my eyes.

I foolishly thought that I could make the shot. Afterall the fringe wasn't completely blocking my vision.
As it turns out it was just enough interference to turn my duck soup shot into a clean miss.

The antelope bolted, but didn't have a clue what had startled them. I remained still hoping they'd somehow drift back to me, but of course that wasn't going to happen.

The best I could do was to stay hidden until they had moved far enough away that I could make my exit without disturbing them more.

[Charlie Lamb]

After it was all over, I'd been at the stalk for something like 4 hours and I was mentally and physically drained.

The walk back to the truck was a long one and I needed a drink of water badly.

When I finally pulled into Vance's drive, he was standing waiting for me. "Let's go get some sage hens", he hollered almost before my truck had come to a stop.

Oh hell, why not!

Within another half hour we were up to our necks in chickens. What a blast. I wish I could say my shooting was stellar. It sure wasn't! But then sage hens are a tricky target.

As soon as they spot you they start drifting away through the sage brush. Usually you are lucky to spot them at 15 yards and they never seem to let you get any closer.

Move too fast toward them and they flush... and for such a large bird they are feathered rockets.

Move to slowly and they'll simply walk away from you.

It's best to take the shot as soon as it presents itself, so you are dealing with a moving target, 15 to 20 yards away, weaving in and out of the sage brush.

We gave a bunch of them close calls before I finally connected on one.

My usual pick for a chicken arrow is a broadhead, but I'd decided to see what would happen if I used something with more shocking power.

That first bird went down to a Judo tipped carbon arrow. I didn't care much for the results of that. A little messy and not at all quick. A finishing shot was needed.

As the evening wound down, I was missing closer, but still not up to par. I'd switched arrows and had an Ace Hex Head Blunt up front. That should do the trick.

In the waning minutes of the day we came upon another group of birds. I picked out the closest one and drew the 67# recurve to anchor.

I knew the shot was good even though I couldn't see the arrow fly and was not surprised to here the sound of a solid hit... WHOCK!!

The arrow slipped through the center of that bird like he wasn't even there. He literally jumped into flight and I watched him as he skimmed low over the short sage brush. He didn't seem hurt much as he landed out around 150 yards.

I was sure he was gone.

But Vance had a trick up his sleeve. Maybe I should say he had a dog up his sleeve. Calling for Andy, his black Lab, we watched as he flew from the back of the truck and headed our way.

Andy knew what we wanted and better yet he knew his business. If Andy cut the scent of the bird he'd be on it.
So I guess I can say I wasn't surprised when Andy ran off downwind of where we'd last seen the sage hen and in mid stride changed direction, loping easilly into the wind.

He suddenly stopped and jammed his head into the sagebrush all in one move. When Andy brought his head up he had my bird in his mouth. It was quite dead, but I decided right then and there that there would be no more "experimenting" on sage hens.
A broadhead is the only way to go.

   

[Guru]

[Killdeer]

I just love hunting with these guys! Thanks Charlie and Vance, for stories that get the juices going first thing in the morning.

Do any surgery on that ghilly mask?
Killdeer          

[Charlie Lamb]

Killy... I did a trashcanectomy on the mask (I've always hated face masks for hunting... they are good for those early morning withdrawals at the 7-11, however) and put a fresh cork in the pocket of my hunting pants.
    :rolleyes: