I had a truly fulfilling, wonderful time at the Ryegrass Ranch as a guest of host Vance (Iron Bull) and his most gracious wife, Sandra. Meeting folks old and new, getting acquainted/reacquainted, and flushing out the daily baggage of life I brought with me was my highlight of this Wyoming trad bowhunting rendezvous. I'd never hunted the wide open spaces of sage and hill, and this was a great learning experience for me, one I'll never forget - and hope to relive again.
I arrived at the ranch late Tuesday afternoon, and rather than rush out to hunt I opted to first get myself a bit acclimated to this part of the country, get the scoop on hunting antelope, and spend some time with the gang - including the photo op of Charlie's hunting adventure of that day (his doe harvest).
Wednesday mid-morning found me in a Double Bull blind that was set on a bit of a hillock overlooking mostly sage. The sun was shining, a few distant clouds in the sky, but the wind kicked up a heapin' bunch and rocked that blind (and me) silly. A few times I thought it would upend and launch skyward like a kite, but it didn't. After well over seven hours, no sign of antelope - but I did have a front row seat to view the awesome scenary and constant whir and buzz of nature all around my little bubble hut ... Wyoming is some hunk of magnificent land!
I spent beautiful Thursday morning in the "rockpile" blind that sits just off a "slot" in a ridge line. After a half hour or so, four 'lopes appeared on the ridge, about 200 yards away; two does and two fawns. Within ten minutes those goats were joined by a real nice buck and a doe. They nosed around, bedded down, nosed around some more and then slowly moved off to my blind side of the ridge. Hmmm, were they going straight down the slope or along the other side of the ridge to come to the "slot"? After a few minutes of anticipation I made a quick decision to leave the blind, belly over to the rock pile and see where the game was going. I covered up head to toe in camo and it was maybe a 30 yard or so crawl to the rocks. I ever so sloooowly peering up over the ridge, and ... 'member that scene in Jurassic Park, where the band of newcomers got their first glimpse of the valley, chock loaded with grazing dinos? - now I know that feeling ... I lost count at 13 grazing antelopes. A fine buck was about 30 yards away, but that fat doe at just over 40 yards would fill my permit just fine if she'd only git about 20 yards closer to the rockpile. I waited. They grazed. Inside of 10 minutes, they slowly started grazing away from the ridge, towards the fence line. It was an awesome experience to be this close to such beautiful creatures, and although I had an arrow on string, my bow never got to sing. Time to head back to the ranch house.
Around four that afternoon Brent drove me and Terry up the road to the fence line and Terry got settled into the rockpile blind while I was to settle into the blind along the ridge end ... (tbc).
A bit o' Wyoming scenery ...
The "telephone stump" in the right foreground - hadda stand on it to make a cell phone call, only place I could find Verizon service! ...
Inside a blind ...
Topic: OH NO......IT'S SNOWING/TradGanger adventures and the hunt for old Crooked Horn. (Read 22416 times)
