Blessings of THE GREAT HUNT-pics added page 5

[Roughcountry]

Really enjoying this one Vance & Charlie. I'm more than happy ta wait as long as your out after the speed goats, er rabbits & badgers.

Vance, you have no idea how much I enjoyed the visit & pics last night. Thanks bud

[Charlie Lamb]

Terry (P)... good too see you here. You just ain't around enough anymore.  

[Pinecone]

Oh...c'mon Charlie!!  The suspense is killing us!

Claudia

[Charlie Lamb]

Very soon dear. Vance is typing now and I'm waitin in the wings to compliment/ contradict what he's got to say.

 

[hormoan]

Dang no wonder it takes so long, Vance typing    


One question, was there backstraps and eggs for breakfast?

                  Brent

[IB]

So far this wee adventure of "Two Ole Fat Boys Eatin Leftovers" Has been of exploits of the field with brief mention given to the CULINARY adventure that has also gone on.

First JC lays some awesome Chow Chow and Dry Javie sausage on the alter. Which by the way promptly was consumed in true Sweat Fashion washed away with Tecate.

Lam"o" shows up packin 341# of the BEST Fudge ever created, 63 & 1/2 loves of Natures best Banana Nut Bread ever ta cross the lips of Mankind along with countless pans of Bread Puddin.

Mr. Green, not to be out one sends us a COOLER full of BUFF. Flat Iron Steaks, burgers, and Sausage. Now these ALL gave my new Wood Pellet BBQ a great work out.

Add to this, the CARE PACKAGES that have found their way to our camp. The FRESH SMOKED Salmon that Hermoan sent to someone else, and was re-routed through or camp, Absolutely OUTSTANDING Brent....THANKS.

Then Whip sent Norb a package of Cheeses and Venison Sausage. Sorry Norb     Yep we got that also, PLEASE try that one again Whip.

As you can see even though I have been BATCHIN fer a few weeks, we have been looked after and are doing our part to stave off starvation.

However we are roundin the corner into the final week and we have NOTHING LEFT. What will we ever do           "Two Ole Fat Boys Eatin Leftovers"

           PHOTOBUCKET

[Charlie Lamb]

Brent... don't give Vance any grief about his typing. He's pretty dang fast with his system... caloused index fingers and the tattoos on the back of each one with the letters he uses that finger for.

Then on the back of his hand are tattooed the phrase "righty tighty, lefty loosey". Further up the arm he's got various curse words inked just for quick reference if he gets flustered.

I want to thank everyone who sent goodies this year. Yum!!

[hormoan]

Wonder he has any fingers at all way he sharpens broadheads            


I no I no I was'nt suppose to  :D  

He is just irrestiable!

                  Brent

Fresh meat!

[Charlie Lamb]

I'd made a serious decision before Vance and I left the house. With only one deer tag in my wallet, I'd have to forego hunting the big guy we knew was hanging around the ranch if I shot a smaller buck.

While, like most people, I'd really like to tag this old boy, I really wanted to fill a tag (and my freezer with prime mule deer steaks).

The decision was made to take the gift of any legal buck that presented himself.

The buck in front of me certainly wasn't "BIG" in the antler department, but he was in front of me...the arrow slipped away on it's mission.

I don't know if any of you have ever experienced it (I suspect if you've been hunting with the bow long enough you have), but I know I have.

There are times when the arrow flies like a neon lazer, almost leaving a visible trail as it flies to the target animal like it has eyes.

Then there are those times when you don't see it at all.

My shot on the buck was a combination of the two.

I was aware of the arrow as it first left the bow, but almost at the same instant my senses were hammered by a whirling mass of legs and gray bodies flying in every direction.

There was the distinct feeling that the whole herd was moving before my arrow found it's mark in the buck and that he was part of that equation.

It was if my arrow had disappeared into this vortex of hide and hair as if transported into a different dimension.

I was moving in slow motion while the world around me flashed by at hyper speed.
I was aware of the sound of broadhead meeting heavy bone (unmistakable once you've heard it a few times) and of the buck disappearing into the forest.

After that I was totally confused. There were deer running everywhere back in there and a couple of confused individuals that came back out in the open to figure out what the problem was with the rest of the crowd.

Try as I might from my entranced position I couldn't make out the deer I'd shot from any of the rest... then there was silence and the woods were empty except for Vance who made his way quietly to me.

[Charlie Lamb]

There was no doubt in Vance's mind that it had been a solid hit. Hell, it sounded solid as could be.
That didn't help my spirits any. I still didn't know what kind of hit I had and the gathering gloom was really starting to close in on us as we talked.

Since we both had a good line on where the buck had entered the trees, we headed there first. If we could find first blood at least we could attempt to a guess on the hit.

We wandered around for quite a while looking for blood, hair or perhaps the arrow to no avail, until finally as the last light faded off into night I found 4 drops of blood on the broad leaves of an elk thistle.

While encouraging, the blood didn't tell me as much as I wanted to know. It was bright red, no bubbles (damn) and basically what any muscle wound would offer up.

A quick pow wow and we decided that the deer was best left alone until morning.

We'd had temperatures in the 30's for the last two nights and it was looking like we'd be getting that again so spoilage wasn't even on our minds.

The question that nagged at both of us was of the four legged variety. Would the buck, if mortally wounded make it through the night with all his parts and pieces.

Coyotes are a universal problem with downed game and it's a problem most all of us face... danged things are everywhere.

Up here there is another dimension to consider. Bears!!!

[Charlie Lamb]

We beem sleuthing around the woods for a couple of weeks in this grand wild country, seemingly oblivious to the dangers that lurked back in the shadowy places.

Both Vance and I have been mountain hunters since our youth and we pretty well understood what the mountain could throw at the unexpecting and unprepared hunter.

An unanticipate storm could drop temperatures 30 degrees in a matter of minutes, bring with it rain (the worst) or snow and the possibility of hypothermia.

We might even run into a black bear. Almost cute and cuddly we courted opportunities to meet these cousins of Yogi with bow in hand. It had seldom happened in our lifetimes.

But there is a new element in these mountains. Grizzly bears!! Bald faced, aggressive, Wyoming grizzlies.
Since their reintroduction they've had no hunting pressure and do as they please.

If a coyote, black or grizzly found the deer it would be reduced to part and pieces in short order.

Were we to find the deer there could certainly be a surprise at the end of the blood trail. Coming up on a black bear feeding on venison could make for another adventure in bowhunting.

Coming up on a grizzly guarding the deer could be an adventure of a much higher order... I suppose it would be a neater way to go than being run over in traffic on the way to work!

So we went home to refresh and refuel for what would be an early start in the morning.

[Charlie Lamb]

The next morning came and the back porch thermometer read 29 degrees. The sage scent laden air tingled in my nose and on the back of my neck.

No rain over night and a heavy dew promised to keep the blood trail fresh. Not long after first light.

At this point let me explain what "first light" means where we are hunting.

There are the towering Wind River Range of the Rocky Mountains miles to the east of "our" mountains. I mean they are big... as most mountains are.

When the sun first peeks over the eastern horizon it must rise above the peeks before direct light hits the mountains to the west.

It makes for long lingering mornings, in sage or damp cold stalks through heavy timber without sunbeam or shadow.
Any moisture in the air lingers until the bright sunlight comes, and then is sucked away from the earth in short order.

[Charlie Lamb]

I found the four original drops of blood easilly and without fanfare Vance and I took up the trail.

The blood I was seeing could have been arterial. It was bright red enough, but I'd seen muscle hits in the past that looked little different.

We were having little trouble finding the blood spoor, which was encouraging, but again, I'd seen muscle hit blood trails that were the same.

When after 50 yards I suspected the worst. I'd probably only gotten a muscle hit and we'd most likely not find the deer.
We tracked on.

Where the shot had been taken and the hit made was pretty open timber. Lots of low growth and scrub pine, but little down timber and more open, grassy, meadow like, areas.

The buck had immediately headed for heavy timber and jumbled blowdown. It's something I would have expected him to do and is natural for most any animal.

The blood was becoming increasingly more difficult to find and we lost the way several times in the first one hundred yards.

The buck had followed trails through the cover all the way. When we lost the blood sign at the convergence of three different travel areas we stopped to pow wow.

As we discussed the situation in low tones, a Gray Jay (or camp robber as it is commonly called)flew calling to a nearby pine.

I looked around for others and saw none, but I thought it odd that the bird, which can be associated with ofal in the high mountains, should be right here, right now.

Circling the area slowly, it was Vance who picked up blood again and we slowly made our way to a huge old forest monarch which might have fallen when Vance and I were just boys.

I hoped/suspected that the buck had gone to lay up under the limbs of the dead giant, but he was not to be found.

The trail led us in a circle here and back into the bottom of a little draw. Then we lost it.

It took more scrutiny to find two separate blood spots, one after the other, pointing the way down an indistinct trail.

Vance had circled ahead looking for more sign when I heard him call out in a low voice, "there's a deer over here."
 

The words came like a fist in the chest. I wasn't expecting that. I made my way over to my friend and my mule deer buck.
   

[vermonster13]

Well told as always

[BigRonHuntAlot]

           Congrats Fellas. Great tracking and story.

[hormoan]

Congrats Charlie    

                Brent

[Pinecone]

Great story and a wonderful deer.  Congratulations, Charlie!

Claudia

[Gary Kellar]

Congratulations Charlie and Vance . . What a team!!  Makes it that much sweeter doesn't it.

Looks like some mighty fine steaks.

[Roughcountry]

               

[Ted Fry]

Good job Charlie , now it will be easier to go home when Vance's wife gets home and kicks you out. Good to see your vigilance paid off , Thanks for sharing the story.