tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26867200575995566232024-02-19T03:16:56.560-08:00At First LightThe Exploits and Outdoor Adventures of a HunterTristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-18948813924480955982015-08-17T21:35:00.004-07:002015-08-17T21:41:57.596-07:002015 Any Bull Trail Cam PicsHey Hoser! I put 3 cameras up and here are some pics.<br />
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The first series of pics are from where I shot my bull last year. Pretty underwhelming actually.<br />
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Beef</div>
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A little buck</div>
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Finally an elk!</div>
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My next trail cam was set on the trail to the secret meadow. It was a little better than the first one.<br />
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More beef</div>
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Some riders, I don't think they noticed the camera</div>
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A decent little 4 point buck</div>
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Finally some elk!</div>
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Here come the boys! 3 spikes and a curious 4 point</div>
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The last camera was in the secret meadow. It got some cool pics, none got a bunch of big bulls, but we definitely got some diversity.<br />
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Nannies and kids! Pretty cool</div>
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A walking $50 bill...</div>
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A couple dinky Fritz type bucks </div>
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I liked the looks of this guy. Gotta almost be deja vu for you to see a bull like this right here</div>
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<br />Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-28335519560820201452012-11-25T19:19:00.000-08:002012-11-25T19:19:48.613-08:00The Gem StateI miss the steep sagebrush hillsides of central Idaho. I haven't been since 2007 and I am itching to go back. The terrain is steep, the air is thin and roads are scarce, but there are a few decent bucks hanging around.<br />
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I have some good memories of these canyons and ridges and I hope to make some new ones soon.<div>
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Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-84608661927315459352012-10-03T20:17:00.003-07:002012-10-03T20:22:03.393-07:00Passing the BuckThey say that you will never kill a monster if you kill the first "good" buck you see. <br />
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That may be true, but nobody talks about the flipside that you may also run out of time and wish you had taken one of the "good" bucks you passed.<br />
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I hunted beautiful country.</div>
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Saw tons of elk and heard so many bugles the first couple days I couldn't belive it. Too bad I didn't have an elk tag!</div>
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I passed some pretty cool looking bucks, several of which I had within easy muzzleloader range. </div>
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I hit it hard for 8 days and never did turn up my monster. I saw 15-25 bucks each morning with many being big mature deer. With my time running out I took a character buck to end the hunt.</div>
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I didn't want to take a 23-25" 160 class 4 point. I passed that exact type of buck at less than 70 yards before walking over the hill and taking a heavy old 3x4 with a little cheater on the 3 point side.</div>
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The view from where I took the shot at 143 yards</div>
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Looking back to my shooting perch from where the buck was standing</div>
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Looks like a hit!</div>
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Glad he hung up in the brush and stopped rolling, that is a deep canyon!</div>
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As he lie</div>
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From the front</div>
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From the back (notice the little cheater)</div>
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I can't wait to do it again, hopefully I beat the odds and draw sooner next time.</div>
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Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-402094687737608062012-05-25T13:34:00.000-07:002012-06-04T21:28:47.326-07:00Back to the BooksAfter a hunt ends often one of the thoughts that often crosses my mind is "I wish I could do that again knowing what I know now". Typically with a hard to draw tag a "do over" isn't usually an option, at least not without a looooong wait to draw the tag again. Luckily for me I am getting the chance to try the Book Cliffs muzzleloader deer hunt over again this year! I had the tag in 2010 and while I enjoyed some success, there were a lot of things that just didn't quite go right (read about my 2010 hunt <a href="http://www.huntingdax.blogspot.com/2010/10/fun-and-frustration.html" target="_blank">here</a>). I learned a lot and feel like if I had it to do over I would do some things differently.<br />
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Well, the draw is done, my credit card has been charged and I am getting my chance to try again! I have had some time to reflect and plan what I would do differently, but not so much time that my memories of the hunt and knowledge of the animals and area aren't still fresh. I am ready to gear up and go for it again. <br />
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My lovely wife gave me a new muzzleloader for Christmas after my 2010 blackpowder frustrations. Last fall I verified it works by putting the hammer down on a nice little general season meat buck. Thanks Tristie! <br />
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I have a hunting buddy that drew with me this time around, and I am going to do the horse thing completely different. This September I will be back in the highest part of the Book Cliffs hoping to maybe find one of the bucks that eluded me in 2010.</div>
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Based on what I saw after the 2011 hunt I know there are still a few good ones running around out there.<br />
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Some hard lessons have been learned and the future looks bright. It is a brand new day and the sun is just rising on my 2012 hunt.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG97iALqVw4ZvwYFk6wRKeF_REP_Rb7KLrMAcCTABZh-PPO6WqPGII7l2hiCPPNWX5yYeDwupzdNlYYTfBB9phEtY4wYY0M8TIRzeQdGvdYI8xeVAOBv6uq7pM13fRUpbI1NTRofgBeDo/s1600/sunrise.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" qba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG97iALqVw4ZvwYFk6wRKeF_REP_Rb7KLrMAcCTABZh-PPO6WqPGII7l2hiCPPNWX5yYeDwupzdNlYYTfBB9phEtY4wYY0M8TIRzeQdGvdYI8xeVAOBv6uq7pM13fRUpbI1NTRofgBeDo/s400/sunrise.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-29037259131735872802011-11-10T12:48:00.000-08:002011-11-10T13:18:52.814-08:00Practice What You Preach...Or NotAfter telling my wife and in-laws all week not to shoot smaller bucks because if they could hold out there would be some big ones, I finally had a chance to employ my own advice and do some buck hunting of my own in Colorado. Just call me Mr. Hypocrite because with 5 days left to hunt I somehow got caught up in the moment and blasted a tiny 4 point. Tristie wins the big deer of the year contest at our house.<br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><br /><div>In the past I haven't had too much experience with "ground shrinkage" but this one really got me. I had passed this same buck earlier in the day twice! He was hanging out with a gnarly old 3 point with some character and I snapped photos of both bucks. </div><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 372px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673475941875602338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HFIq9Zb-HWBwxQ5P6HGPNLgx_6nDeutlWlL_8z4MUbi0i6G2gEv59DZyEk-Yb_YdOtiI9iQWEMCkNo5au4vbhWFiE9QWuWlpfHkzcJsLtzDiuFzktb-TYlo4y3waem4oLHjF1Nj-u7Y/s400/before.JPG" /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir2WeGHZQl48NiwF05siKyV6qDUn9LiYw4TgTpPP_trtI8TgDuLQxYaTgxrv3KSJXnjr7ZzByGbicRlJeoKMOBl-Ox8G4zReYskl8UWGNaDl4o_rDi8OJ1qCnxi7NMBydH_p4GIpXNawc/s1600/heavy3.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 322px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673478148189288514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir2WeGHZQl48NiwF05siKyV6qDUn9LiYw4TgTpPP_trtI8TgDuLQxYaTgxrv3KSJXnjr7ZzByGbicRlJeoKMOBl-Ox8G4zReYskl8UWGNaDl4o_rDi8OJ1qCnxi7NMBydH_p4GIpXNawc/s400/heavy3.JPG" /></a><br /></div><br /><br /><div>After passing him for the second time he went over a hill and another hunter shot at him. The other hunter missed and the buck came back towards me for the 3rd time.<br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='354' height='284' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzWjY7xq_hQwnivU8Bl5vaD9rgHKdq0v5zFNIQx0v3qgdqYFtO_iS6nuEQwbCj3aUEPCQGjU9k8JK4SHxQuMg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div><br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>He looked bigger as he came back over the hill and when I saw the other hunter coming after him it must have triggered some competitive instinct honed all those years on the general season hunts in Utah and something snapped and I shot him. I still feel a little sick about it. I can't complain about shooting a 4 point, but at the same time I know there were some big bucks out and about this year. I stuck around a couple more days to try to find an elk for Shane and saw some really nice ones that really twisted the knife. It was great to get out and hunt, but I was disappointed in myself for not holding out.</div><br /><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq2td_tVbxbxJNX9YEkC60RKNXOyzgxliuWJIFaOp9JQSymXH9UavlMWjwTLBrmxKrpDezHTmXSnUqzA_4QNySKJffqBzXq2TMauB6gMIfKjtHTuL-g81Z5zfujQsyzTzKolqcsSf2HPc/s1600/buck1.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 292px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673477505412878290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq2td_tVbxbxJNX9YEkC60RKNXOyzgxliuWJIFaOp9JQSymXH9UavlMWjwTLBrmxKrpDezHTmXSnUqzA_4QNySKJffqBzXq2TMauB6gMIfKjtHTuL-g81Z5zfujQsyzTzKolqcsSf2HPc/s400/buck1.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div>All I know is that I can't wait for a chance to redeem myself.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-3172769074761261682011-10-29T16:44:00.000-07:002011-10-29T21:05:53.471-07:00Started with a Fist Fight, Ended with a StabbingOpening morning began with an all out fist fight between two grown men over the thermostat setting in a camp trailer. To say there was some major excitement, tension, emotion and anxiety as our Book Cliffs deer hunt began would be an understatement. It took years to build enough points to draw the tag, and expectations and emotions were running high. My wife, two of her brothers, and her Dad had drawn rifle tags for the Book Cliffs, one of the units I manage as biologist.<br /><br />Tristie's family has a strong tradition of hunting. The deer hunt is an institution in the Warner Family. Typically they convene in Salina Canyon and hunt the general season deer hunt. On those excursions the first (and sometimes only) antlered deer they come across is usually taken. Rarely do they pass a two point, and the hunt is more about meat, family, and tradition than taking a trophy. I realize that everyone hunts for different reasons. The goals and expectations on the exact same hunt can be totally different for two different people. I tried to persuade my wife and in-laws that deep down they were trophy hunters and that this was their chance to finally take some mature trophy bucks. As this hunt progressed I learned that not everyone is a trophy hunter, and that a trophy can have different definitions depending on the person. While my definition of trophy might be a buck with big antlers, to others a trophy might be a buck with an enormous body, or a unique looking rack.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsojGkGXTxT3QAB2_qye-_fVqVXBOd8aRC4m6OxZxAq4V8jZZ-mCuoB-7PfUIX5cObhHECjSrSDpGsk1y5oHnDWCLaRsC16dD6F6vEZp81xDpp4UPNXGLtJQT7U9jsPfohM9vNxNg3mc/s1600/deer+hunt+016.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669083575488163090" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVsojGkGXTxT3QAB2_qye-_fVqVXBOd8aRC4m6OxZxAq4V8jZZ-mCuoB-7PfUIX5cObhHECjSrSDpGsk1y5oHnDWCLaRsC16dD6F6vEZp81xDpp4UPNXGLtJQT7U9jsPfohM9vNxNg3mc/s400/deer+hunt+016.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Back to opening morning. Things were still a little tense after the fight. I also was guilty of being a little too anxious and after announcing that "I didn't drive 3 hours and wake up at 5 am to eat bacon and eggs. I came to hunt and it is time to go." I corralled my wife and half asleep kids into the car, passed out some pop tarts and left most of my in-laws sitting around the breakfast table. I was supposed to serve as the guide, but when nobody else was ready to go as first light approached I told them where they could catch up with us and took off<br /><br /><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669084303632394178" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgAmyhHD-SxsZnMYORq-EzIKYggmKs8i26LAFZF5hTh8uvfg1PQ5mr2maxXgPQDD4YXOWtu3DDmfaZefDfPQbinhASlAqlQsRr6wUmpRFOYufsydP537hH58cF1TTM3qPXj9SWJPmvyWw/s400/IMG_8624.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><div>We were looking for some of the bucks that we had seen the day before and sure enough we turned up several decent ones right off. It was hot and dry and the deer were really concentrated around water. The night before Tristie had commented how much work it was to get everything and all the kids ready for this, and that she wanted to shoot a buck and get it over with so she wouldn't have to come back out. I was hoping that she would want to keep hunting and return for the 2nd weekend, but I was sharing in her exhaustion and decided that if she wanted to shoot I would let her. We passed a couple nice 4 points at less than 200 yards. Both were feeding and oblivious to us and let us watch them for quite a while. Tristie had a dead rest and could have easily killed either of them. She surprised me by having a change of heart and announcing that she wasn't ready to take either of them on opening morning and that she would keep hunting. </div><br /><div><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 290px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669084287077607762" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjCkuDQqTsortrqcp-9Flou4EYAoZ3wnlecazYVrC-vT0FY60mb4ByUNsTe1Q-7Z_SMXl9fdiNB6Qr8MgiNvwq0nhg_cAhsW2YI348zG4rqSo9ZTHjMzx8o-GBmpHOO6gvA02l2PyHwaI/s400/passerbuck.JPG" border="0" /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK7I3SOhk1p1mYmr9gRWGRxIGkYM8mReGfSqP5OaVEx9EQ9GBy-vidLPos5rFzoJ5JEgE4JhY8sy2sLKp2t0fj-EWQRHH9dSXVlktCA4afRjvHR19zG1KSGH6-7LtbES0j_m9pc6mrd0I/s1600/passerbuck2.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 370px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669084293293776098" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK7I3SOhk1p1mYmr9gRWGRxIGkYM8mReGfSqP5OaVEx9EQ9GBy-vidLPos5rFzoJ5JEgE4JhY8sy2sLKp2t0fj-EWQRHH9dSXVlktCA4afRjvHR19zG1KSGH6-7LtbES0j_m9pc6mrd0I/s400/passerbuck2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Opening day came and went without anyone pulling the trigger. One of my bros-in-law, Tyrel, had work commitments and could only hunt opening weekend. Tyrel had always come along on the family hunt, but had never killed a deer before. Tyrel loves to camp, hike, 4-wheel, etc., but when I comes to pulling the trigger it just isn't his thing. Tyrel killed a deer on the 2nd day, I think more than anything to get his Dad and brothers off his back. As they walked up to the deer Tyrel told his Dad, "this is it Dad, don't put me in for any more hunts". Tyrel is happy to come along and be there, but just doesn't want to be the trigger man. My brother is the same way and while it is something that at first I didn't understand, I have come to respect their perspective and appreciate where they are coming from. Killing isn't for everyone, and that's okay. Tyrel took a heavy, mature 3x4 buck. A great first buck for anyone. Probably Tyrels first and last deer. Good work Tyrel! (shown here as modeled by Tyrel's lovely wife Kaeli)</div><br /><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi03ofl14QxIH5HsOKuDHBMkZxco6TtNMfZkaYYFtA-GdK9KKfBefjT7UUYGRrHLw70JmceoXruLOGTJsNPaDmK_RN5iSLgTa146q0gr209IWPLL8yHZfYItHPQ291wZ2sHyDmWcFQdJU4/s1600/tyrel+buck.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 239px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669084309461974098" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi03ofl14QxIH5HsOKuDHBMkZxco6TtNMfZkaYYFtA-GdK9KKfBefjT7UUYGRrHLw70JmceoXruLOGTJsNPaDmK_RN5iSLgTa146q0gr209IWPLL8yHZfYItHPQ291wZ2sHyDmWcFQdJU4/s400/tyrel+buck.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>I had to return to work for a couple days and the kids had school. While back at home my father-in-law, Paul, and brothers-in-law, Trent (with a tag) and Matt (no tag, just along to help) kept at it. I got a text from another bro-in-law, Lance, telling me Trent had killed a beast. I was dying to know what kind of buck he had taken. I kept getting reports from my in-laws that Trent's buck was indeed one of the biggest they had ever seen. "He's a monster! He's a toad! He's a Beast!" Finally I got the one and only photo taken with the buck after he was killed sent via cell phone...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2Y_Rg03ng_6gfEoTXBNFD0FOEOi82Gk4RGGcTgkL9Bs5cnsOPq2QVh8hX73AZOZ_Cz26qa9f70DV82u8fVcFgIo0dqOdIF-VRz_LtgwHELPZpgudKyB_wTWfJFTEqtaMQVtT2T_j0ko/s1600/trentbuck.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669084307108241938" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI2Y_Rg03ng_6gfEoTXBNFD0FOEOi82Gk4RGGcTgkL9Bs5cnsOPq2QVh8hX73AZOZ_Cz26qa9f70DV82u8fVcFgIo0dqOdIF-VRz_LtgwHELPZpgudKyB_wTWfJFTEqtaMQVtT2T_j0ko/s400/trentbuck.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><div>Not exactly what I was expecting. The old school hunting tradition had rubbed off hard on my in laws, and they could not get over the body size on Trent's 2x3. Trent had shot it and loaded it whole on his 4 wheeler and ridden on top of it all the way back to camp. When the 4 wheeler rode into camp after dark, Matt's first thought was "oh no, a deer stole Trent's quad!". Trent's buck had an absolute beast of of a body, and the antlers will put all the little yearling 2 points hanging in his room to shame. Good work Trent!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0usbYT0QkiP77i08WCsaZk5QS1z1nM481tDue4duauYCjbfT4PN2DLF7qm8CRJS9GTDiXf8gW4ayCgNQSjmb3i36a4hiLktWNo8WhCHKmTdsb8VbKVkeJlwKZf62jfxj-oRGBX4qK5DI/s1600/trentbuck2.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 292px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669085899017515874" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0usbYT0QkiP77i08WCsaZk5QS1z1nM481tDue4duauYCjbfT4PN2DLF7qm8CRJS9GTDiXf8gW4ayCgNQSjmb3i36a4hiLktWNo8WhCHKmTdsb8VbKVkeJlwKZf62jfxj-oRGBX4qK5DI/s400/trentbuck2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div>The weather had been hot and dry, but a storm was forecast for Tues and Wed. We made arrangements to have our big kids go home from school with friends and Trist and I took the babies an headed out at 4 am Wed morning. We drove in rain, snow and some serious mud all morning without seeing many deer. Tristie did pass a 25-26" 2 point, but it was slow going. We met up with Paul, Matt, and Trent, had lunch, and then piled in together to hunt the rest of the afternoon. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0yx1l7DKAQbJ2f6z4gkHL2_OCUTYwP9ajRj2ROWr71W3lxHQ7iN7sfBOh1roOuvGVV2FSxhNNHiXJqwnwRWpzAtPuzrn0XCVLF6ocU6DBxyisAoYa84A0nreSNK0hUpXyH-noYsp-yos/s1600/IMG_8647.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669085899114430498" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0yx1l7DKAQbJ2f6z4gkHL2_OCUTYwP9ajRj2ROWr71W3lxHQ7iN7sfBOh1roOuvGVV2FSxhNNHiXJqwnwRWpzAtPuzrn0XCVLF6ocU6DBxyisAoYa84A0nreSNK0hUpXyH-noYsp-yos/s400/IMG_8647.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br />The sun came out a little and finally the deer started to get up and move. After seeing mostly does and small bucks we saw a big mature buck run across the road. Paul hesitated, and Tristie said "if Dad doesn't want him I'll shoot him" and proceeded to jump out of the car, rack the bolt, shoulder the rifle and take a freehand shot, nailing the buck in the shoulder. I beat everyone up the hill while holding our 1 year old and managed to jump the buck out of what would have been his death bed and force a 2nd shot on the back side of the ridge. Tristie got it done like a champ, and her buck is beautiful with great mass and height. Way to go Babes! I am so proud of my hunting wife!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQm47VVTveTUJL1ICzokPHRJzawSpqFNteDALi6UQUKM6WR47Cb11Hrx1ZmyzurcGEK3o9reasvwyvWPxnd7u8UrhNA_CgKrbKjme2ZkUkJop6ACDNW38DXiVh3kF76yfxzfS4ami6X0/s1600/buckb.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 305px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669085903389783586" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhQm47VVTveTUJL1ICzokPHRJzawSpqFNteDALi6UQUKM6WR47Cb11Hrx1ZmyzurcGEK3o9reasvwyvWPxnd7u8UrhNA_CgKrbKjme2ZkUkJop6ACDNW38DXiVh3kF76yfxzfS4ami6X0/s400/buckb.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYk9vbjf7TF83S7HDfRer8GC-Y4cXJ3VBKBg14AEBkBfletUH461npdqk-yRX6fdfbHBRs9cx2BSDlrW59n-TeRo3jkTET3Q9pVr4Ikwwd2HYys6ae6gC4SgarjCMW1VeII7lDHEcQYB4/s1600/bucka.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669085912626890674" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYk9vbjf7TF83S7HDfRer8GC-Y4cXJ3VBKBg14AEBkBfletUH461npdqk-yRX6fdfbHBRs9cx2BSDlrW59n-TeRo3jkTET3Q9pVr4Ikwwd2HYys6ae6gC4SgarjCMW1VeII7lDHEcQYB4/s400/bucka.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwRDOOe4JUknLJXSQpXIlUuDgNrH5mUzLatl8n8jNTa9XNhC_xdochd32YFvOcNDkSDiGQMtSVDy5Cph-aPirNiaY6WVAIZNZwpLVVZfbLJ3U5RAnNe_cgpsIzwkygAEicIWdVdrxv5U/s1600/dax+trist+buck.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669088240043219314" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEwRDOOe4JUknLJXSQpXIlUuDgNrH5mUzLatl8n8jNTa9XNhC_xdochd32YFvOcNDkSDiGQMtSVDy5Cph-aPirNiaY6WVAIZNZwpLVVZfbLJ3U5RAnNe_cgpsIzwkygAEicIWdVdrxv5U/s400/dax+trist+buck.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Paul was the last man standing. The weather had turned and the big boys were starting to show up. He had had some mishaps in the hunt with a pair of over-sized gloves forcing an unexpected early warning shot on a big buck. A couple of follow-up shots at the running buck did little more than put some chinks in his shooting confidence. With his mojo shaken Paul had a couple other close encounters on big bucks that didn't work out. Matt and Trent took Paul back to a spot where he had earlier had a chance at a nice buck. Shortly after arriving they found a buck.<br /><div><br />"Is that the same one that was here this morning?" asked Paul "<br /><br />No, it's a bigger one, shoot it now!" they answered.<br /><br />Paul shouldered the rifle, took aim, and fired. The buck dropped like a rock! They ran up to check him out feeling relieved. When they got to the buck he was still breathing, and Paul noticed that there weren't any holes in his body.<br /><br />"Should I shoot him again?" Paul asked.<br /><br />"No, don't waste another bullet or ruin any meat, I'll just slit his throat" said Matt.<br /><br />As Matt straddled the deer and began to cut the throat the deer started to stand up. Paul's shot had passed through the bridge of the nose halfway between the nostrils and the eyes. The buck had been knocked out cold, but was far from dead. Matt began the rodeo of a lifetime stabbing the buck in the side multiple times with a 3 inch blade pocket knife as he used every ounce of his body weight to keep the buck from running away. Blood spurted from the half cut throat with every beat of the bucks heart, and a mist of blood and air sprayed from the holes in the lung Matt made with the tiny pocket knife. After a wild ride that I am sure seemed to last much longer than it actually did, the buck finally gave in to blood loss and keeled over. They stood there in shock for a few minutes. Matt was covered in blood, and I am sure they all had more than a little adrenaline flowing. The 4th and final buck was dead, victim of a stabbing, and the hunt had come to a dramatic ending. Pauls buck is an old guy with dark stained teeth worn to the gumline and lots of character in his antlers. An awesome old timer Book Cliffs buck. </div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF37bKvpn24w2QpBJN0k-uXF_482-Qhg-5bbgHfCXEBLl03FKZmUNtkJIsIAEQX7rYSkHp3rb-D53KfObnLGrC4nzE9VB0ig4fgIVaIiMc2F-__A72_hHd0FmouWrziVhA0ll-bwxJSTI/s1600/paulbuck2.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 288px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669088247294966130" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF37bKvpn24w2QpBJN0k-uXF_482-Qhg-5bbgHfCXEBLl03FKZmUNtkJIsIAEQX7rYSkHp3rb-D53KfObnLGrC4nzE9VB0ig4fgIVaIiMc2F-__A72_hHd0FmouWrziVhA0ll-bwxJSTI/s400/paulbuck2.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0FRJOw9QrTaHhp3SZK29sdllp4AsDYb4SJRIjkYg8LdirtvWQU14TfxRymoT1tsOJag984CHS02GOnlzhM6ifaVKXZEkLVIzMWd2sCwdMVhZMkk2Mrn8QSEiNH9gqEfgQMaaw4gydEQ/s1600/paulbuck.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 331px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5669088237466803650" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0FRJOw9QrTaHhp3SZK29sdllp4AsDYb4SJRIjkYg8LdirtvWQU14TfxRymoT1tsOJag984CHS02GOnlzhM6ifaVKXZEkLVIzMWd2sCwdMVhZMkk2Mrn8QSEiNH9gqEfgQMaaw4gydEQ/s400/paulbuck.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>It was a great hunt, different than I imagined it being in many ways, but also better than I had expected in ways I hadn't anticipated. I learned that it was futile to try to convince everyone to hunt the same way and for the same reasons I do, and that my way isn't necessarily right for everyone. It started with a fist fight and ended with a stabbing. If a hunt can be described like that, you know it had to be exciting and this one sure was. I can't wait until the next one! </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-59483815424798297862011-06-06T07:45:00.000-07:002011-06-06T07:51:48.039-07:00IT IS DONE!Better late than never. <a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=explorer&chrome=true&srcid=0B9uFrL8TTocOOTBjZTNmNzQtNjEwMC00MmNjLWIyNjUtNWVlMjJiNjFlY2Yz&hl=en_US">Thesis</a> and MS degree are done!!!Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-5967967380980295062010-10-04T14:59:00.000-07:002010-10-20T14:13:28.362-07:00Fun and FrustrationAfter way too much anticipation and lots of last minute stress about my gun, my Blackpowder deer hunt arrived. I hopped into the truck with a friend heading to the same area early Tuesday morning and we were off. The hunt opened Wednesday morning but I wanted to allow plenty of time to ride the horses into the remote spot I was planning on hunting. I guess the mid-day heat and trailer full of horses was too much for his truck and we broke a serpentine belt and had the radiator overheat just a few hours into our trip. Although it only took a couple hours to get a new belt put on, it seemed like forever and it was all I could do to keep from totally freaking out. We got to the trail head later than I had planned and ended up not making it to the spot I had hoped to be on opening morning. On the bright side, another friend of mine who was in the area hunting bears took a nice boar that evening. We rode to his bear in the dark, took pictures, and skinned and packed it out on the horses on a very dark moonless night. I didn't go to bed until after 1:00 am.<br /><br />Opening morning I decided to put in a couple hours in a nearby spot, and then I figured we would come back to camp and pack up the horses and ride in the rest of the way. I saw some elk and a 2 point buck, but not much else so I headed back to camp to pack the horses.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM87bZo-g7AMXtl48KVgXdDWKMjbhikqJMv-ntQi2OwXjmfuaEyzsOoloVwxeQv10XhD_1Sa9jWumXDedJb99juIlgcGMiRygwXyUMqv9Y2d-WeRCibFecYWZLAWlCMU0yTq-uIHbL00g/s1600/opener.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM87bZo-g7AMXtl48KVgXdDWKMjbhikqJMv-ntQi2OwXjmfuaEyzsOoloVwxeQv10XhD_1Sa9jWumXDedJb99juIlgcGMiRygwXyUMqv9Y2d-WeRCibFecYWZLAWlCMU0yTq-uIHbL00g/s400/opener.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524328409199356818" border="0" /></a><br />After a long ride I made it to my desired destination and got the horses settled Wed. night at about 6:30 pm. I was almost out of light and I hurried out to see if I could find any bucks. Right off the bat I spotted what I could tell from a distance were 2 nice bucks feeding in a little patch of sagebrush. I planned a stalk and before I knew it I was right above where I had last seen them. I couldn't see anything so I wondered if they had smelled/heard me and taken off? Suddenly a buck stood up and looked right at me. It was a nice buck, but the smaller of the 2 so I waited. A couple seconds later the bigger buck stood up. He was really really heavy with deep forks, even though it was only the opening day I didn't hesitate and I raised my gun and took a bead.<br /><br />I have my rifle sighted in to hit a couple inches high at 100 yards, right on at 150. At 50 yards it actually shoots almost 4 inches high. Couple that with the steep downhill angle, brush covering the bottom half of the buck, and probably more than a little bit of buck fever and I watched in disbelief as my bullet kicked up a puff of dust right above the back of the massive old buck. The bucks bolted, but stopped at a couple hundred yards and waited around taunting me as I tried to hurry and reload my muzzleloader. Just as I got my second shot ready to go, they were gone.<br /><br />I pulled out my rangefinder and I felt sick to my stomach that I had missed a monster buck at only 65 yards! I can still almost cry if I think about it too much.<br /><br />The next morning I hoped I might turn him up again, but didn't find him. I had his buddy the smaller buck, a 26-27" wide 4 point with huge backs and tiny fronts come within 80 yards of me, but I held off hoping the heavy guy would show up. He didn't.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQSwrT58ZTem-FLnjQDP5bby6CzQSVOymOqn0tDQm4wfe1lU6cK_ku_F5oJon5I4Q63ZAci4X9EaiDCzYk0C-jbC5hx48-wMoGIy2viUOUr-ni9WbbxMffVOlBz3bN_4EnYmFLIzsNTQ/s1600/glass.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsQSwrT58ZTem-FLnjQDP5bby6CzQSVOymOqn0tDQm4wfe1lU6cK_ku_F5oJon5I4Q63ZAci4X9EaiDCzYk0C-jbC5hx48-wMoGIy2viUOUr-ni9WbbxMffVOlBz3bN_4EnYmFLIzsNTQ/s400/glass.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524328421168733442" border="0" /></a><br />Over the next couple days I glassed and passed multiple bucks, some that were pretty decent. I made a stalk to within 25 yards of this young 4 point, but let him go. Even after I stood up and busted him, he circled back to 75 yards to have another look at me and let me snap his photo.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqW8pUuZdspTEQan0gVrNofOELK7_6qKHqnvWrgQYYodK-59GQzLqoZ9ojIQ5FPImpffSabm7Xt26RgA2_md-QEOda8BKX6wv-1JKrspzZ_XtRVnW4nxtID-DhUPEJ8ji6m8-pcx1H2Vg/s1600/curious.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqW8pUuZdspTEQan0gVrNofOELK7_6qKHqnvWrgQYYodK-59GQzLqoZ9ojIQ5FPImpffSabm7Xt26RgA2_md-QEOda8BKX6wv-1JKrspzZ_XtRVnW4nxtID-DhUPEJ8ji6m8-pcx1H2Vg/s400/curious.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524328417497322274" border="0" /></a><br />After a morning of glassing a beautiful basin and watching a bull elk chase his cows around I was headed back to camp to let my horse eat and to escape the record heat wave afflicting my area.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IkVuXBTv61b32x6vGvLE4I_14n5r8kNF3_WMnD0hQvpvlSXsjgXmEcvSzeALxyQ_KOb3kZWcqSnexd5xlEqRErtr21SG_qwPkTS9MxDGn6gRNl_ZzmESnBruYivOrGfVELRt8CqLRRs/s1600/bull.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9IkVuXBTv61b32x6vGvLE4I_14n5r8kNF3_WMnD0hQvpvlSXsjgXmEcvSzeALxyQ_KOb3kZWcqSnexd5xlEqRErtr21SG_qwPkTS9MxDGn6gRNl_ZzmESnBruYivOrGfVELRt8CqLRRs/s400/bull.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524329728530684610" border="0" /></a><br />While walking back I jumped a buck even bigger than the one I had missed earlier. He stopped at about 80 yards and looked back over his shoulder. I had a dead rest on a tree and the crosshairs right on his back rib when I squeezed the trigger. I heard the loudest "CLICK" I have ever heard. It was too much for the buck and he ran into the bottom of a deep thick canyon. The bolt on my rifle had made a good dent in the 209 primer, but it had failed to go off. The primer was a DUD! I had to watch a 190 class buck with beautiful deep forks bound away wondering what I had done to deserve this kind of karma!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijivNN0zZj5L9WhhEqjF4IMJ9wrjSJMuNkuH5aYDW1aEvvw3txMRc8S0-Cz-sMryZ3jAp9tPF6d_wXJgRPxnO_xu02bE1Kz1NyVWpQ2jL6u_foXR159uVwSFwOqrXPGzWsqXCyCVu-rkQ/s1600/scenery2.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijivNN0zZj5L9WhhEqjF4IMJ9wrjSJMuNkuH5aYDW1aEvvw3txMRc8S0-Cz-sMryZ3jAp9tPF6d_wXJgRPxnO_xu02bE1Kz1NyVWpQ2jL6u_foXR159uVwSFwOqrXPGzWsqXCyCVu-rkQ/s400/scenery2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524329728942463106" border="0" /></a><br />The next day I had a black bear walk to within 5 yards of me before we both startled and he took off. I saw multiple bear tracks, and even took photos of one through my spotting scope.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4BVJwyL1PLPJ33fJc3GMb_9NOZgcZ_K9dWtP4-9GymZ17a1Gea4Ia_vKsqCSLUcEAGMVVJ6DW0zC6JZmcuurVQxii-O54nMDoyk21b4MBWE2W54o7WacDTNcC7iR9LxT7PxKKVKDdERs/s1600/bear.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 356px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4BVJwyL1PLPJ33fJc3GMb_9NOZgcZ_K9dWtP4-9GymZ17a1Gea4Ia_vKsqCSLUcEAGMVVJ6DW0zC6JZmcuurVQxii-O54nMDoyk21b4MBWE2W54o7WacDTNcC7iR9LxT7PxKKVKDdERs/s400/bear.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524329725485513250" border="0" /></a><br />I enjoyed the country and had a couple more frustrating encounters with big bucks, including a standoff with the heavy buck from opening day at 35 yards. There was a boulder between us and all I could see was a perfect view of his antlers. After several days of hard hunting in the sweltering heat I am sure I was pretty ripe and he could smell me. We both waited to see who would make the next move. He moved, taking just the right path to stay out of sight as he stotted down a ridge into the thick oakbrush where I would never see him again.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBlDZE_knTbAD-V_nLhxuLGi1N02YqNRD8Benfk7Q6glWVWcPtqpbj55pauusIx_icu7Q71oGRMiAyGervjgsOeFPwzf9Md7x9sqzpzLanv8tye5V2IEZmVfSuH3dC1gVNhCdM67QvFU/s1600/scenery.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDBlDZE_knTbAD-V_nLhxuLGi1N02YqNRD8Benfk7Q6glWVWcPtqpbj55pauusIx_icu7Q71oGRMiAyGervjgsOeFPwzf9Md7x9sqzpzLanv8tye5V2IEZmVfSuH3dC1gVNhCdM67QvFU/s400/scenery.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524328428405980162" border="0" /></a><br />It had been beautiful, and I had seen lots of nice animals with chances to take several decent bucks, but it had just never come together on any of the big ones.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFChdfMpUx05A9r_vMJcDiUIo6G3H1Oj6do_4eKtlQ45HfN1GNBspF93gScPtYvQU2PlLypDSHrA-oRK-LtBEnNykUstVMNBRs12QLGrIqGWinghTNOrbTgMnuQJlMTOUX_yQq8yQJK_Q/s1600/spotter.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 395px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFChdfMpUx05A9r_vMJcDiUIo6G3H1Oj6do_4eKtlQ45HfN1GNBspF93gScPtYvQU2PlLypDSHrA-oRK-LtBEnNykUstVMNBRs12QLGrIqGWinghTNOrbTgMnuQJlMTOUX_yQq8yQJK_Q/s400/spotter.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524329738221900562" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHcKyBY_WfCH4l0AG7yUvy0OQIRgTu5TkhEXKYD1JvWUWDqC9Nhboj5NAqtz58RJjPnT8MFjFxhQSTj4qu1enKZMDA4u28qk5nHo-o_x-NfVJR-9m73YR-ONHAz9pMJmsUxBM-Xey-E-w/s1600/bedded.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 264px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHcKyBY_WfCH4l0AG7yUvy0OQIRgTu5TkhEXKYD1JvWUWDqC9Nhboj5NAqtz58RJjPnT8MFjFxhQSTj4qu1enKZMDA4u28qk5nHo-o_x-NfVJR-9m73YR-ONHAz9pMJmsUxBM-Xey-E-w/s400/bedded.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524328416011259554" border="0" /></a><br />My friend showed up with the pack horse and we loaded camp up Saturday after the morning hunt. I headed for home feeling frustrated and discouraged. Right at noon a we jumped a couple bucks right on the trail. I hopped off the horse, grabbed my gun and walked up the hill where they had ran. To my surprise they bucks were just standing there. Without really thinking I took aim at the biggest of the two and pulled the trigger half expecting to miss. Well, as Murphy's law would have it I nailed him and he rolled back down the hill coming to a rest right on the trail.<br /><br />It was probably close to 80 degrees, so we did the best we could to get the meat taken care of and packed onto the horse. That and several other horse related delays didn't let me get home Saturday night as planned, and I didn't make it home until Sunday afternoon. Nothing went quite like I planned, but I did have a good time.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4PhCfrDOGcTx8a0V9WVF4TzJxyH2Vaqk5tO1-fIGu48d6g2YZW-aNMh6kdpFDLGPug6uf-XA5GFZQ1RKkXczWbuWsfrDOUABAgU2NoyPMWj1woFWWnSoVr5wCPcfBjOseNuDEEpvNb8/s1600/front.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4PhCfrDOGcTx8a0V9WVF4TzJxyH2Vaqk5tO1-fIGu48d6g2YZW-aNMh6kdpFDLGPug6uf-XA5GFZQ1RKkXczWbuWsfrDOUABAgU2NoyPMWj1woFWWnSoVr5wCPcfBjOseNuDEEpvNb8/s400/front.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524772674993792818" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpk5Z28qTZ1E_jTS29JJMiGqNZ_g-ujoYvdPRfXFkNUBpDX56PE1ffhmor6aOLzTuRZY7V8TavXuBXAMAZkudEgVUWhVhOYpZV5EglwPPvh45OCTZye2_cDzkFd5JtVF3liuvfYX9-qOs/s1600/close+side.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpk5Z28qTZ1E_jTS29JJMiGqNZ_g-ujoYvdPRfXFkNUBpDX56PE1ffhmor6aOLzTuRZY7V8TavXuBXAMAZkudEgVUWhVhOYpZV5EglwPPvh45OCTZye2_cDzkFd5JtVF3liuvfYX9-qOs/s400/close+side.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524331294950185890" border="0" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialWGlTp-_oXNI31BjimpuDjJT7PijRlMQUA9zjz7OtsWSF-2K8ojlLT34Vdudlp-ri4zH_W3z2wYqC7tfOythkVDMWkybPW9nwfzQjZn63zz5lI5T_0xB8mYmnS6u8muJHyzhPJ3siKs/s1600/close+front.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialWGlTp-_oXNI31BjimpuDjJT7PijRlMQUA9zjz7OtsWSF-2K8ojlLT34Vdudlp-ri4zH_W3z2wYqC7tfOythkVDMWkybPW9nwfzQjZn63zz5lI5T_0xB8mYmnS6u8muJHyzhPJ3siKs/s400/close+front.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524329742452753698" border="0" /></a><br />I still wish I could have put the pieces together on one of the bigger bucks I had seen, but there is always next year...Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-40331934144576638472010-08-09T16:19:00.000-07:002010-08-09T16:33:16.280-07:00Finding Mr. RightI got really lucky and ended up with a great mule deer tag this year. My hunt starts the end of September and man summer seems to be flying by! I have been lucky enough to be out in my hunting area a little bit over the last couple weeks and have seen some great looking deer. I am still hoping to find something a little bigger, but here are some of the better looking bucks I have found so far.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh96FT-2ti5gsSP0Mf-Y6aBLrD4hKA0pcBVgykcRGHBZzss-_VI34qMAWtAW-GmLaYFgURuOCsxwHNxKgZfkpGX4vRHEsdtqWyaes7h6FglCQnTVWTidKmmPiud6kiVkED_Qp5adVkCJIQ/s1600/sr1.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh96FT-2ti5gsSP0Mf-Y6aBLrD4hKA0pcBVgykcRGHBZzss-_VI34qMAWtAW-GmLaYFgURuOCsxwHNxKgZfkpGX4vRHEsdtqWyaes7h6FglCQnTVWTidKmmPiud6kiVkED_Qp5adVkCJIQ/s400/sr1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503556935926555874" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfV34O5fSYZOYiX579rhAXKxawMSykwDj2IL2V9sm6rv1yQEsIDg3nR0x8U_zka5ZPLcDCfb-gI6DNE-Mtn_y7_Ds_98ILxsdveoiDZWZCiqhGDpq3z-fhInXXZniVKDTa2HFQmDgdstY/s1600/ww3.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 391px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfV34O5fSYZOYiX579rhAXKxawMSykwDj2IL2V9sm6rv1yQEsIDg3nR0x8U_zka5ZPLcDCfb-gI6DNE-Mtn_y7_Ds_98ILxsdveoiDZWZCiqhGDpq3z-fhInXXZniVKDTa2HFQmDgdstY/s400/ww3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503556942168271650" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdf94i24v4gs09NvqRBPrFTYLV4sRcTpaBPcQLBBUrsJV0aNkCUiW5Gv2djVMkm8vf7GbixXLvrnE2qgA9vcmPJ65AK62mK-MjNv3CFqoALMfdVb0JMpYHJiJjVwFf6l1lZbB4VuXXA8/s1600/sr4c.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 311px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtdf94i24v4gs09NvqRBPrFTYLV4sRcTpaBPcQLBBUrsJV0aNkCUiW5Gv2djVMkm8vf7GbixXLvrnE2qgA9vcmPJ65AK62mK-MjNv3CFqoALMfdVb0JMpYHJiJjVwFf6l1lZbB4VuXXA8/s400/sr4c.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503556956447511170" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb87EjKCJD-j2SWEilJoicKWZccpcdy0oxPdKia9nE9-90hNzjs_PKPVaOezJUbxm3z0Q07UeVC9X0W4Y-q8LEEaDrh0ikrFPukbrMijFq_QSIT46cLt_Y9xVdvIgJb1garM2CmGIVp2Y/s1600/sr4e.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb87EjKCJD-j2SWEilJoicKWZccpcdy0oxPdKia9nE9-90hNzjs_PKPVaOezJUbxm3z0Q07UeVC9X0W4Y-q8LEEaDrh0ikrFPukbrMijFq_QSIT46cLt_Y9xVdvIgJb1garM2CmGIVp2Y/s400/sr4e.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503556951716448386" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcazgZDKtcLWmGhsVxh2LgcIyjk0xSgakBa_g5AVLXjgme2RRdfX0Ooh1HDg8kYQDQEPGg7zjZDocOrPAVwv7ZqwR75WMhTdUxah_pQ_HaxcGLeWhvV0d-prGg_OxwNy_EMXmgP8pyW5w/s1600/1b.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 232px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcazgZDKtcLWmGhsVxh2LgcIyjk0xSgakBa_g5AVLXjgme2RRdfX0Ooh1HDg8kYQDQEPGg7zjZDocOrPAVwv7ZqwR75WMhTdUxah_pQ_HaxcGLeWhvV0d-prGg_OxwNy_EMXmgP8pyW5w/s400/1b.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503555567528762418" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9T0KraOlaCiXv-bSbCtVF-HbdOvP1o7nni7M6MXnx7RxFyYRGmnnVnpa9l9w9nJE2XQ7JzHN5KzM4ZcqmZRAiw3TG2BJ4pAJ4Kkuk8ZxiyS9oDpwE5bumFUt9-__kUcL_PUYB9EgJJ_I/s1600/1c.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9T0KraOlaCiXv-bSbCtVF-HbdOvP1o7nni7M6MXnx7RxFyYRGmnnVnpa9l9w9nJE2XQ7JzHN5KzM4ZcqmZRAiw3TG2BJ4pAJ4Kkuk8ZxiyS9oDpwE5bumFUt9-__kUcL_PUYB9EgJJ_I/s400/1c.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503555576644961458" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoS2xeFfa1NF5zksp4IEQNmbA-EOWRcJ7aFjV7Q6oRUubJvcRuaeMZbJdlHtiZmi9Tq7v4FXVXkFO21fy2Uho2fY-PtjQUCfHt02hxnubrRY612heHx14V8TSwtehCd9B_Nf3PFtP7oq8/s1600/2c.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 352px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoS2xeFfa1NF5zksp4IEQNmbA-EOWRcJ7aFjV7Q6oRUubJvcRuaeMZbJdlHtiZmi9Tq7v4FXVXkFO21fy2Uho2fY-PtjQUCfHt02hxnubrRY612heHx14V8TSwtehCd9B_Nf3PFtP7oq8/s400/2c.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503555582986061922" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyGPKBxLmvY-HV03a6ncQWR1GrNjm5o17_wJZiB89TGtJcJzMhqvHSXR_gnqDxbMo29HC5Ri-C6SMyALrbEXpYQQyWWDiGel8Mhm0tKGwOLOPVUA93NKxbVf-BKnFARgOvyDDkj0lGDE/s1600/2d.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 353px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifyGPKBxLmvY-HV03a6ncQWR1GrNjm5o17_wJZiB89TGtJcJzMhqvHSXR_gnqDxbMo29HC5Ri-C6SMyALrbEXpYQQyWWDiGel8Mhm0tKGwOLOPVUA93NKxbVf-BKnFARgOvyDDkj0lGDE/s400/2d.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503555585237032034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSehIAyLNe6ZYpqe6X-cnwx81hP9jFiWr-Z0b5tgmwgJk8OZdDuOF0d_J07Q4VOOuNfFe6DkvgbLlvgxuHB6NUda5LOn66q3FPVr-4ZGCSDt4XMyJMgxVt0jaqLmVVIUJgXW37FNGqUg/s1600/4a.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 322px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsSehIAyLNe6ZYpqe6X-cnwx81hP9jFiWr-Z0b5tgmwgJk8OZdDuOF0d_J07Q4VOOuNfFe6DkvgbLlvgxuHB6NUda5LOn66q3FPVr-4ZGCSDt4XMyJMgxVt0jaqLmVVIUJgXW37FNGqUg/s400/4a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503555588933538370" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjaM1bxkBQB8vf7nwoii-IuHSw_FFfpR4EWEG1bYrocPJCEFySIAIZ8txtK5tFOQgz7h8ZgRGgUc4IHBBBqK0nzWWwBhpDM7j5tFiKDrDtV0e1tnoMa1Nd4JJTjI4sQLGT65Pk-wU5uYo/s1600/4c.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjaM1bxkBQB8vf7nwoii-IuHSw_FFfpR4EWEG1bYrocPJCEFySIAIZ8txtK5tFOQgz7h8ZgRGgUc4IHBBBqK0nzWWwBhpDM7j5tFiKDrDtV0e1tnoMa1Nd4JJTjI4sQLGT65Pk-wU5uYo/s400/4c.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503556931705748514" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-19276846988618527612010-05-20T19:59:00.000-07:002010-05-21T21:22:32.027-07:00Oryx Oryx Oryx!!!My Dad told me stories of how tough Oryx are to kill, and how delicious they are to eat. I was lucky enough to learn both of those lessons firsthand. Oryx or Gemsbok as they are also called, have striking black and white faces, heavy front shoulders, thick neck, a long hairy tail, and long straight black horns. Ken took the first Oryx of our trip. He shot his bull on a steep hillside in thick brush. The bull spotted us and started to run, he stopped for a second thinking he was hidden in the brush. The moment of truth arrived as we all heard the click of a firing pin hitting an empty chamber, in this instance that click seemed louder than the expected gunshot would have been. It was quickly followed by a mumbled "s**t" and a furious racking of the bolt on Kens rifle and a fantastic high shoulder/spine shot that dropped the bull in his tracks. We got a flat tire trying to get the truck closer to the bull so we wouldn't have to drag the beast so far.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwh3mZqtKs52rt30RLV0lnfSzvzv6rYXkZK20Bm85IYOLVYa-uhZKFNka_Nd8oqn6LUNVZC2dSw249vpLQh4_q05M7DfapoAAUm6cIK7PV_hi-7k1O0Zogq90RFSO2spFN3p0eW5DP2vY/s1600/ken1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 354px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwh3mZqtKs52rt30RLV0lnfSzvzv6rYXkZK20Bm85IYOLVYa-uhZKFNka_Nd8oqn6LUNVZC2dSw249vpLQh4_q05M7DfapoAAUm6cIK7PV_hi-7k1O0Zogq90RFSO2spFN3p0eW5DP2vY/s400/ken1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473918827345118770" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>A couple days later we found ourselves glassing from the top of a rocky hill. I was blown away by the views of the Kalahari stretching out in front of us. Big open plains with islands of brush covered mountains in between.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNDrElU-VlV-ZCWrkk4n_yd4XXphULV90iFnKmzW6gcnEfpnW7Ef4RhxiiAVHFSlFrTbGGmirIG_bKZXYYPNOkgFy8HsVP4-ADmCY071nAVgzrAuyVmgO5LHOGyk0uI1y1jBKU_0IRNT4/s1600/kalahari.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNDrElU-VlV-ZCWrkk4n_yd4XXphULV90iFnKmzW6gcnEfpnW7Ef4RhxiiAVHFSlFrTbGGmirIG_bKZXYYPNOkgFy8HsVP4-ADmCY071nAVgzrAuyVmgO5LHOGyk0uI1y1jBKU_0IRNT4/s400/kalahari.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473919726243972994" border="0" /></a><br />We saw a herd of springbok down in the open plains, and George and Albert spotted a lone Oryx on the next mountain over. It saw us and went over the top of the hill and out of sight before we had much time to size it up. We got in the Land Cruiser and drove down off our mountain, and around to the back side of the mountain where we had seen the oryx. I spotted it standing perfectly still in the shade of an acacia tree at 210 yards. I held right on and let one fly. It was a good hit, but the oryx turned and ran uphill like it hadn't been touched. I got nervous and let a couple more bullets loose at the running oryx. It again crested the mountain, and we hurried and drove back around to the other side. I went into the thick brush with George and Alfred and watched this tough old beast still sitting up finally take its last few breaths and expire. The first shot had penetrated the front shoulder and gone through lung, liver, and exited on the opposite side of the animal, the second running shot hit right at the base of the tail, a Texas heart shot. Not my favorite shot ever, but about all I had at game that was running away.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi58um59JndpfGaU5hxNLobY0PHeU6wb3z2Fu2thjvbR1QirTlylRuSeqe7kXIXVueWu6GgpCSsp-PsG8ODggZWjgyVN0JpXqMD7qDhRTIlDyip76hGkpwvELEG1ihTTzWnJNS7Vyah_ow/s1600/dax1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 374px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi58um59JndpfGaU5hxNLobY0PHeU6wb3z2Fu2thjvbR1QirTlylRuSeqe7kXIXVueWu6GgpCSsp-PsG8ODggZWjgyVN0JpXqMD7qDhRTIlDyip76hGkpwvELEG1ihTTzWnJNS7Vyah_ow/s400/dax1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473918834525789938" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>What I thought was an old lone bull, turned out to be an old lone cow. Still she had good horns, and was a pretty trophy, but I was hoping to take a bull. As fate would have it, I ended up being part of taking 2 more oryx bulls on this trip. I took one for our guide when he mistook it for a wounded bull and asked me to shoot. When we discovered that it wasn't the wounded one, he apologized and told me he wouldn't count it against me as he had asked me to shoot. The sunset that night was unreal.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNV515LlyNXRwOEpJGZ06DmKv0VCctoxOFIjC7SqiwdSBCVyZx4hgyrHbL5TFcDzMKEV-699bXhIUOCbsWyJfuK1MUiglDtofSXhGzfe97-V38VeiNXls-_MW93jj-5qFFsi3Q_58clg/s1600/dax2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 377px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUNV515LlyNXRwOEpJGZ06DmKv0VCctoxOFIjC7SqiwdSBCVyZx4hgyrHbL5TFcDzMKEV-699bXhIUOCbsWyJfuK1MUiglDtofSXhGzfe97-V38VeiNXls-_MW93jj-5qFFsi3Q_58clg/s400/dax2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473918839905441298" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBKCGFstiwasWQLNs97UkqcX2XWk-McZUzhyphenhyphenFUrynaF8E9hfde8G9ZNKJKE3su3E0QjRUL5ul9EHOpm0oI88lzB5QnDsQgDRxjtGA-m5VJ43tkq1XgQsV46wUx1fEqXtHQZZNVQtUHRbs/s1600/dax2b.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBKCGFstiwasWQLNs97UkqcX2XWk-McZUzhyphenhyphenFUrynaF8E9hfde8G9ZNKJKE3su3E0QjRUL5ul9EHOpm0oI88lzB5QnDsQgDRxjtGA-m5VJ43tkq1XgQsV46wUx1fEqXtHQZZNVQtUHRbs/s400/dax2b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473918851051992514" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The next day we found the wounded bull we had been looking for, and I finished him as well. He had been hit low in the front left leg, but was still up and moving around. A couple more shots from the .338 and he was finished. 3 for 1 oryx for me this trip, not too bad a deal.<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEg9GNxP0YK4AUACjv_M7FQ0sT4zX8-Ys2DHdRL0CIEbGfPNURezh8Mknf30w3lXxIYzNwxC__s9OMBH8plRXS3AtN_PCSmfqT1Nh_Mk4YTqp5JWVJESQXPlTMqBzhDsl37opHQAV2VA/s1600/dax3a.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 337px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghZhNXFBHf3CIASx1CU1U8glPOBolTYHBNIL0neeaM0Jomap_YMKt49qS3IfFsbD3y-Q1MucujMkpGhejdxIoVRKm11yAQroeVQYnijVNDepeIYdPIQoZb1E2RS7QgGIbUALbp0bb3MqQ/s400/dax3b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473919710353267746" border="0" /><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 353px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXEg9GNxP0YK4AUACjv_M7FQ0sT4zX8-Ys2DHdRL0CIEbGfPNURezh8Mknf30w3lXxIYzNwxC__s9OMBH8plRXS3AtN_PCSmfqT1Nh_Mk4YTqp5JWVJESQXPlTMqBzhDsl37opHQAV2VA/s400/dax3a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473918856973006194" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>Beautiful animals, tough and delicious. I especially enjoyed the oryx Bushman Fondue. Chunks of oryx meat and bread dough deep fried in a cast iron pot heated over an acacia wood fire.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDB8YwGR7u5RWBMXn_HVltkiqZ75ZVNt-FnpHyKWMh4Zlrte1KTcSu4K_t_xZZWpkAic2mtMOovMzdIV1B07W2jffkk4wacV9__e2XSQ-Oub3jod73rmXX5YA8dJKTNjYV66HWeoGsnjU/s1600/fondue.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 356px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDB8YwGR7u5RWBMXn_HVltkiqZ75ZVNt-FnpHyKWMh4Zlrte1KTcSu4K_t_xZZWpkAic2mtMOovMzdIV1B07W2jffkk4wacV9__e2XSQ-Oub3jod73rmXX5YA8dJKTNjYV66HWeoGsnjU/s400/fondue.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473919718314698498" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-15433199039426705442010-05-13T14:40:00.000-07:002010-05-14T09:28:23.190-07:00Big BoreSince my trip to Africa I have been fascinated (Tristie might say obsessed) with African hunting, especially dangerous game hunting. I would love to go back to Africa to hunt the Big Five (Cape Buffalo, lion, elephant, rhino, leopard).<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWV3Jr-qZlThaeEdDCMab8MJzbb-KetPvY248ErjozlG8nSyxvCfG2JQYARN6hwdYN79qBVz3JQgKBgLJ9qioQifCgyrHjUosZ6Gq-8PbN0lnVIocF08Sgt3QshwM68AuXMPCJMO1VrA/s1600/cape-buffalo1_large.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 276px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWV3Jr-qZlThaeEdDCMab8MJzbb-KetPvY248ErjozlG8nSyxvCfG2JQYARN6hwdYN79qBVz3JQgKBgLJ9qioQifCgyrHjUosZ6Gq-8PbN0lnVIocF08Sgt3QshwM68AuXMPCJMO1VrA/s400/cape-buffalo1_large.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470877493773509890" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>I have also been fascinated with the rifles used for dangerous game hunting in Africa. While I would love to pick up a classic double rifle in 500 Nitro Express, I just can't quite handle paying in excess of $10,000 for a rifle. The $10,000 dollar models are the bargin bin variety, if you want a really nice Holland and Holland double with engraving and all the bells and whistles you are looking at paying around $150,000. That is a little rich for my blood, but I did decide that I could sell one of my AR-15's and pick up a nice express rifle in a dangerous game caliber. I found a great deal on a CZ 550 Safari Classic in .458 Winchester Magnum and bit the bullet and sold an AR. It was hard letting the AR go, but I have others. Now I am the proud (and sore-shouldered) owner of a big bore dangerous game rifle.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59Nd-eBfcsYKcI1neti9egzdixtlWYjao2uT0WN0YecCkOXcKe9_eAqITcKdSg69VAwY5W_txyFAzeTGyHJEoWgRx7phsQew6UkJrOOHf6gbpDaI2M45ZOMaJ57iLSdAicF4NPWcjwNQ/s1600/full+1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 83px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg59Nd-eBfcsYKcI1neti9egzdixtlWYjao2uT0WN0YecCkOXcKe9_eAqITcKdSg69VAwY5W_txyFAzeTGyHJEoWgRx7phsQew6UkJrOOHf6gbpDaI2M45ZOMaJ57iLSdAicF4NPWcjwNQ/s400/full+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470877438193974050" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div>.458 Win Mag is capable of killing anything big enough to die including elephant, rhino, hippo etc. It also kicks a little more than your average deer rifle. This picture shows how the cartridge shapes up compared to a .22 and the venerable .30-06.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXMB-UMQh4eWEmWsBw7skcUiv-PjqRI0ou6a7_3a4g7CyRNJFP51lpdUaWsDv5UzufcLGwLsKgzK6PPChGhenm6kP9J6hWjGqLYGCaFMne5Gfga_gkg17thr34nNwd1F330lz3Q_fZTE/s1600/comparisonlabel.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXMB-UMQh4eWEmWsBw7skcUiv-PjqRI0ou6a7_3a4g7CyRNJFP51lpdUaWsDv5UzufcLGwLsKgzK6PPChGhenm6kP9J6hWjGqLYGCaFMne5Gfga_gkg17thr34nNwd1F330lz3Q_fZTE/s400/comparisonlabel.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470877450703657826" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />Today on the range I decided to see what the .458 would do to a slab of rock. I strained my back lifting an 8" thick slab of rock and then set my camera up to see what would happen. At 50 yards the 500 grain bullet completely penetrated the rock and broke it to pieces.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxNlLsQDsKy1j9AD5VZIeYSVn_i0Gra0XhwCmlPTHOMgiJCxPlZt6Po3mtha_2RnZUacvD8RC9CszYx1dzmow' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br />"I am strictly a heavy-bullet man myself. I cannot abide wounding things that could be simply killed if you used enough gun" Harry Selby, Professional Hunter on Robert Ruark's first safari.<br /></div></div>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-33100875774701544152010-05-04T20:44:00.000-07:002010-05-04T21:21:59.413-07:00Red HartebeastThe Red Hartebeast is an interesting looking creature. They seem to like to hang out in the lower grasslands in large herds. All the Hartebeast we saw were extremely skittish and didn't stick around long. My friend Ken took a Hartebeast with some really quick reflexive shooting after we surprised an old bull as we crested a Kalahari dune. After several days of hunting I was beginning to wonder if I would ever have a chance to take a Hartebeast bull. We were moving slowing through the bottom of a wash when our tracker George told me that he had caught a glimpse of Hartebeast in the thick brush.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh8QDvGT09-e6A_2-AMdj9RiBj-XumCeWUg0PVt2SYAwd9lrE-IgA8aBLEKs89CGSZhn0y7YVrowJuuuN7MvRiiW4U1yy9TAzkkuqJLvDISOAOvBVGlJVq4w3YKHgxptTNBYJxA69oyvA/s1600/IMG_4283.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh8QDvGT09-e6A_2-AMdj9RiBj-XumCeWUg0PVt2SYAwd9lrE-IgA8aBLEKs89CGSZhn0y7YVrowJuuuN7MvRiiW4U1yy9TAzkkuqJLvDISOAOvBVGlJVq4w3YKHgxptTNBYJxA69oyvA/s400/IMG_4283.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467633189486197074" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />I got ready, and we kept moving. Suddenly a herd of animals started running across the opening in the bottom of the wash. They looked like red streaks, and I thought that once again I had missed an opportunity at the wary Red Hartebeast. Then I noticed a straggler that had not yet crossed the opening, he hung up as he paused to take a fateful look to see exactly what it was that had spooked the others. I didn't waste any time and I quickly took a shot at 330 yards. It was a hit, but he took off on a dead run. I started to question my shot placement considering the distance and haste with which I had made the shot. We moved to the spot where he had entered the bush, and starting tracking. It is amazing to watch the native trackers work. They seem to track as much by instinct as they do by following sign.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2qkpzpvxIQD_8ulb1z0m2jgpU0vJBOAOsL8ws4SvIYLFBW2F1LXG6B1njX0PyYJNUXVp0DO0ULZkAwkbj0kIO5nLLwckV2a9aSTLP5WOCqOyu9OLsEvF4eQvoj246r1fzPDs3oyVIcI/s1600/IMG_4263.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2qkpzpvxIQD_8ulb1z0m2jgpU0vJBOAOsL8ws4SvIYLFBW2F1LXG6B1njX0PyYJNUXVp0DO0ULZkAwkbj0kIO5nLLwckV2a9aSTLP5WOCqOyu9OLsEvF4eQvoj246r1fzPDs3oyVIcI/s400/IMG_4263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467633161591601218" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />Not long into our tracking I saw some pink frothy lung blood. This was followed by more blood, a drop here, a smear on a blade of grass there, we knew he was close.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Kj-QfrTMnNqU2fFasKFXRWzn47jQWPrcYHZJKkXmPlhrRmjlgkzhePrAgWRce8l3DmOYaWd18WmLbd8dvmll5IJeyl2E4_kO3s9e_469DMKXK2S_ijbMVkBVWnM3oPaikb93Zfl1AXw/s1600/IMG_4266.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 338px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Kj-QfrTMnNqU2fFasKFXRWzn47jQWPrcYHZJKkXmPlhrRmjlgkzhePrAgWRce8l3DmOYaWd18WmLbd8dvmll5IJeyl2E4_kO3s9e_469DMKXK2S_ijbMVkBVWnM3oPaikb93Zfl1AXw/s400/IMG_4266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467633172854423074" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />The blood lifted my spirits, and I stopped doubting my shot. Soon George and Alfred were waving at me to come to the front and be ready. We saw the old bull walking along, I put another 225 grain slug into his front shoulder at 104 yards. He didn't even flinch. I racked another shell into the chamber and put another one in him.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPUOiqmeJf4OmHHYlX6W4AqyceBy2e13wpWeQ95FWHmidpmu0bmFrCMQhv50GMxTesEKBgFPKmkNkM79oySMs2F-sMbaah-HC0apC-C6v85Bhzh8nkXxJ18FWLhyEDVQkYRnmZMMCDCs/s1600/IMG_4270.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 340px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPUOiqmeJf4OmHHYlX6W4AqyceBy2e13wpWeQ95FWHmidpmu0bmFrCMQhv50GMxTesEKBgFPKmkNkM79oySMs2F-sMbaah-HC0apC-C6v85Bhzh8nkXxJ18FWLhyEDVQkYRnmZMMCDCs/s400/IMG_4270.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467633175683404770" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdsEXL3VCaJWFHsw0eM5CzQiBItfGf3q_nstcNA1R6pcRxEmnFCVMMb3kCSaqzirjEcfee9L3hRUnTHHuo0XoNuTXjr9M2bt9vVG1dWD-uWY5odCTo3xH-bESHj02tjHrqoIyjSLMchoM/s1600/IMG_4271.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdsEXL3VCaJWFHsw0eM5CzQiBItfGf3q_nstcNA1R6pcRxEmnFCVMMb3kCSaqzirjEcfee9L3hRUnTHHuo0XoNuTXjr9M2bt9vVG1dWD-uWY5odCTo3xH-bESHj02tjHrqoIyjSLMchoM/s400/IMG_4271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467633185825679618" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />Finally the tough old Gold Medal bull went down. I was so impressed with the trackers. What a thrilling hunt! In its' own unique way the Red Hartebeast is quite handsome.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimRgznq8oo7XBmF6kk-gr5XOFBzROGrL2WVpK4a_yOZBLA2X_FlnbRNFOdPQhG8xXda150xoidkWPR6P19maH0MIWS-vs2PVS8AWUT0bu5JMxdkcDL1NItg9w8zsS8BU6KcV57bYpmlKY/s1600/IMG_4327small.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimRgznq8oo7XBmF6kk-gr5XOFBzROGrL2WVpK4a_yOZBLA2X_FlnbRNFOdPQhG8xXda150xoidkWPR6P19maH0MIWS-vs2PVS8AWUT0bu5JMxdkcDL1NItg9w8zsS8BU6KcV57bYpmlKY/s400/IMG_4327small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467634209992152354" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwL9-_vXxiHEld5seQ0vocUzdTY9xn523lFkIJNuE4gqg5HDu3u35R5lhLnpoM9S5nSBlja73x0dNdUDr3f2ShZGWyt0ZfP4V_XRsVktligedmszkq8IOrmilR0FVGC21pn_cq_vXbv1I/s1600/IMG_4312small.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwL9-_vXxiHEld5seQ0vocUzdTY9xn523lFkIJNuE4gqg5HDu3u35R5lhLnpoM9S5nSBlja73x0dNdUDr3f2ShZGWyt0ZfP4V_XRsVktligedmszkq8IOrmilR0FVGC21pn_cq_vXbv1I/s400/IMG_4312small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467634201376151090" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz9ZMReTf1d9RyrtBKyyPZtVmIoPwIGUkieYwy4ov-hezfPFYMkS4ci0vjw3wsSkx2ctASCJo8-oNPbiTINisMYgpT7ySkN-XBJ-tGIB5B0-G5gk24j7URrWk6_xZsoB4sWzpxt7aM4I8/s1600/IMG_4308small.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz9ZMReTf1d9RyrtBKyyPZtVmIoPwIGUkieYwy4ov-hezfPFYMkS4ci0vjw3wsSkx2ctASCJo8-oNPbiTINisMYgpT7ySkN-XBJ-tGIB5B0-G5gk24j7URrWk6_xZsoB4sWzpxt7aM4I8/s400/IMG_4308small.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467634199479213986" border="0" /></a><br /></div>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-67991654981381403332010-04-18T21:13:00.000-07:002010-04-18T21:30:50.093-07:00RibsI still have more I plan on posting about my Africa trip, but in the meantime I had to share these ribs. I have always had an interest in barbeque. By barbeque I mean real barbeque, not just grilling burgers. I have made my own barbeque sauce with a "secret ingredient", and I mix up my own dry rub recipe. I rubbed this rack of ribs Saturday night and let it sit in the fridge overnight. This morning at 8:00 am I put them in my improvised smoker and got the heat set to where it stayed right at 225 F. I opened it up and basted them with ginger ale every couple hours, and at about 3:00 pm after 7 hours of smoking I did one last basting with some barbeque sauce and we sat down to eat at about 3:30. Cornbread muffins with butter and honey and fall of the bone smoked ribs, what a lunch!<br /><br />Before<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaIxU2a-8Wizbk6wd4Bjg54LovY3RQR4xrBzQl3ujEJYbrDitgl_y79auyiFYmUQVgHAClIh7a_iMkEMOJUnc08KW9Ee2EnnFLRp8J2Q-GfkmVPEwmvZaq3SagWpz6J3OmaoZCfQfFTg/s1600/ribblog.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaIxU2a-8Wizbk6wd4Bjg54LovY3RQR4xrBzQl3ujEJYbrDitgl_y79auyiFYmUQVgHAClIh7a_iMkEMOJUnc08KW9Ee2EnnFLRp8J2Q-GfkmVPEwmvZaq3SagWpz6J3OmaoZCfQfFTg/s400/ribblog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461699174194010578" border="0" /></a><br />After<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4jazIY8qNfWNulsie8JZAt0AXsl9kmR9qtaH2RPjnQFDl_bIdEgRBBYHqB8Sb7XTdpHzyEcO9p15axghAXxZq60YOQa8CwF5TC8n7JXgtwSoaUVUeadoDOlx1AkdCXb3ncfG8h-MR0Y/s1600/ribblog2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 327px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe4jazIY8qNfWNulsie8JZAt0AXsl9kmR9qtaH2RPjnQFDl_bIdEgRBBYHqB8Sb7XTdpHzyEcO9p15axghAXxZq60YOQa8CwF5TC8n7JXgtwSoaUVUeadoDOlx1AkdCXb3ncfG8h-MR0Y/s400/ribblog2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461699182228589202" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-3004936604827075322010-04-10T13:17:00.000-07:002010-04-10T15:33:57.514-07:00Kudu, How Do You Do?The morning of my second day in Africa I woke up at 4:30 am and could not go back to sleep. I spent a couple hours writing and drawing pictures in my journal. I couldn't wait to get back out there and see more of Africa. I figured I could catch up on sleep when I got home. Finally the sun came up and we had a bite to eat before hitting the road. I tried a piece of blood sausage for breakfast, and decided that it definitely wasn't for me. It was all I could do to choke it down without hurling. I relegated myself to safer breakfast fare, homemade white and whole grain bread, marmalade, and cheese. Much better.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5c9zo44K0x6OCBmK3_UTiOw_dUK7ePXJ7pFuuAp5D3W7uarDw_djUXOG11GCQgPsyAHJlu7akAULzwE82esxGT3tbgC2cbAMeWceJDfzS7sYheZmG5W4JrME0CjaRFCweWDX4xmfASw/s1600/spider.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 167px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5c9zo44K0x6OCBmK3_UTiOw_dUK7ePXJ7pFuuAp5D3W7uarDw_djUXOG11GCQgPsyAHJlu7akAULzwE82esxGT3tbgC2cbAMeWceJDfzS7sYheZmG5W4JrME0CjaRFCweWDX4xmfASw/s400/spider.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458616493828964626" border="0" /></a><br />Ken had harvested a nice Oryx bull the night before, so it was again my turn to hunt. We saw oryx, kudu, and warthog that I could have shot, but they were all too small. George, our tracker, just kept telling me "young one", which meant it wasn't a good trophy and that I shouldn't shoot. At one point I had my crosshairs on a warthog hiding under a small acacia tree, and I was really close to pulling the trigger. At the last minute George convinced me he was just barely too young, and I let him go. I hadn't fired a shot but I sure got my heart rate up.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6YR1iXIJQ4j3B7ad7uVEI0qSX4HKMXuNmGwpnqSBmZk8WXy9XjBG6_0CgArUUWLfETRkaI0CAKkr0WImXJulSep9xIqDp9-xtCD77J5eHWuoP1NtYpuZC76zo_ccD24_2LOFFcJPmXvY/s1600/smallwarthog.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6YR1iXIJQ4j3B7ad7uVEI0qSX4HKMXuNmGwpnqSBmZk8WXy9XjBG6_0CgArUUWLfETRkaI0CAKkr0WImXJulSep9xIqDp9-xtCD77J5eHWuoP1NtYpuZC76zo_ccD24_2LOFFcJPmXvY/s400/smallwarthog.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458615034260136098" border="0" /></a><br />We were headed back to the farm for lunch when George spotted a good kudu bull standing like a statue in the shade on a hillside. The bull had us pegged, and there was no way we could get any closer without spooking him. We ranged him at 380 yards. A long shot, but I felt like I could make it. However, I didn't want to risk a poor shot and I decided not to shoot.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZZAPhqTi1ovTDG8W3yjuBfjxJ_RJIFO7lBN8FBbmLttp620fCxa_UA2sNCPSp1yNyJoUNmJWrJNT0r6hLMWTYZta_hU7mAeyc0iNMYpAHrDubKsZpUcOMd1_vZvFo4fPiA_k0mn0jhg/s1600/frozenkudu.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 344px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZZAPhqTi1ovTDG8W3yjuBfjxJ_RJIFO7lBN8FBbmLttp620fCxa_UA2sNCPSp1yNyJoUNmJWrJNT0r6hLMWTYZta_hU7mAeyc0iNMYpAHrDubKsZpUcOMd1_vZvFo4fPiA_k0mn0jhg/s400/frozenkudu.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458615037372938194" border="0" /></a><br />George and Hans Peter, our guide, had a heated conversation in Afrikaans about what we should do. Hans Peter told me to shoot the the mountain above and behind the bull to see if it would get him to run downhill closer to us. I was worried that I might be missing my chance, but didn't feel like I had many more options. I shot and the bull ran downhill, but right into a thicket of trees where we couldn't see him. Now what? Hans Peter and George went the rounds again in Afrikaans, and it was decided that I would set up for a shot and George would hike up the hill and try to push the bull out into the open. I ranged the areas where I thought he might come out at 300 yards and I set up to shoot. In just a few minutes George had climbed the hill, and the bull, hearing George, decided it was time to move. When he busted out of the thicket it didn't look like he was going to stop, and I was unsure about taking a running shot at 300 yards. However, I only had a small window to shoot before he was over the hill and gone. When the bull slowed down to look over his shoulder to see what had spooked him, I put a 225 grain .338 Winchester Magnum slug in his front shoulder. He stumbled, and I shot one more time, anchoring him for good.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWu6mpKTuJ5ANeZqsFEGO8FXJwi3oCCRXNsJ9LdBJPGP7XuecF7vxIZizzKeB4_OaE5A-5syrTQfVRIa71DWZG3UL-0_4jcnwR4koyn0RU4gPqBLK5FMw24LJko6CdtJBpp2wvUJsz7vY/s1600/kududown.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWu6mpKTuJ5ANeZqsFEGO8FXJwi3oCCRXNsJ9LdBJPGP7XuecF7vxIZizzKeB4_OaE5A-5syrTQfVRIa71DWZG3UL-0_4jcnwR4koyn0RU4gPqBLK5FMw24LJko6CdtJBpp2wvUJsz7vY/s400/kududown.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458615055753914290" border="0" /></a><br />We hiked up the hill in the heat, and I made my way to my bull. The beautiful spiral horns of the Kudu were one of the factors that had most excited me about hunting in Africa, and I couldn't believe that on only my second day of the hunt I had taken the Gray Ghost of the Kalahari.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gE3pdHT_Kf0mSwF2bOJQIb2S1bQ3c3he3K7XADAT-uo_8ceaxhfiGt7SONS-nG6cFQT5fya9tvzamzcKsZiFAnvYklgrlKv_mZuPUikdgAnZoaRiy4gG_uQkadCmWRM5X3Iqz5l_4Zc/s1600/horns.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1gE3pdHT_Kf0mSwF2bOJQIb2S1bQ3c3he3K7XADAT-uo_8ceaxhfiGt7SONS-nG6cFQT5fya9tvzamzcKsZiFAnvYklgrlKv_mZuPUikdgAnZoaRiy4gG_uQkadCmWRM5X3Iqz5l_4Zc/s400/horns.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458615043993034674" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqd2tV7agizrhlP6SagR2LI_2JtohIFxJNQY4YiywbKgZDUtxep6nXl51Q_ZYRleIC4h1SDIUD4K53uCzKAWdceiEcQZYL43Yv-kTIXexUllf-RABLOGzoILKA7s75mquemyClOqwwzg/s1600/kudu.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 387px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqd2tV7agizrhlP6SagR2LI_2JtohIFxJNQY4YiywbKgZDUtxep6nXl51Q_ZYRleIC4h1SDIUD4K53uCzKAWdceiEcQZYL43Yv-kTIXexUllf-RABLOGzoILKA7s75mquemyClOqwwzg/s400/kudu.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458616489560001250" border="0" /></a>There was no getting a vehicle anywhere near my Kudu, so after a few photos, Hans Peter radioed the farm and a group workers showed up to help pack out the animal. They made short work of the task, and we were only about a half hour late for lunch.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhIsClbx7KH6WNuXegrJXiL1Hj1v5gd_wL4PkBjWo_8Ig-W_bcUEBw_gIYOkc54_XHX1R8UZ1UeGor4LTFGz84CwYpexM3MyVuNedU9AYEyz8Cz8X74txRK-xU6s8mTO5JzF7tkeBbR4/s1600/kuducrew.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 336px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyhIsClbx7KH6WNuXegrJXiL1Hj1v5gd_wL4PkBjWo_8Ig-W_bcUEBw_gIYOkc54_XHX1R8UZ1UeGor4LTFGz84CwYpexM3MyVuNedU9AYEyz8Cz8X74txRK-xU6s8mTO5JzF7tkeBbR4/s400/kuducrew.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458615059188488114" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-92030658215455017342010-04-09T11:59:00.000-07:002010-04-09T18:47:49.445-07:00Springbok, The Begining...A couple years ago my Dad fulfilled one of his lifelong dreams and went on an African Safari. <a href="http://accuracysports.blogspot.com/2007/08/africa-trip.html">His first safari</a> was highly successful and he had the experience of a lifetime. I listened to his stories about the animals, the people, and the landscape. It sounded amazing, but to me it just wasn't quite "real". It was something that you hear other people talk about, see on TV, but it was something that I knew I would never experience. My Dad talked about going back and taking me with him. I was sure that he was sincere and that he really did think it would be nice to go back over together, but I didn't think it would ever actually happen.<br /><br />Even after he announced to me that we were officially going and bought air tickets, etc., it still just didn't quite feel like we were really going to do it. I stayed so busy with work and other obligations that I didn't have much time to think about it or prepare. And, all of a sudden it was time to pack up and head out on MY African Safari.<br /><br />After traveling for what felt like a week and a half (but was only actually 3 days) we landed at the airport in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Windhoek,_Namibia">Windhoek, Namibia</a>. We met our hosts and were off to the <a href="http://www.farm-garib.com/">ranch</a> where we would be hunting. The warthogs running across the road and baboons sitting on the telephone poles as we drove were surreal. Even though I hadn't slept more than a couple hours in the last 2 days I sat with my eyes wide open trying to take in every detail of the totally foreign landscape.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9PO_pTg-Q_VQi17R407Vi3jdaMJUPuDXJtvK_cFPJcAY5ueSYJKr21YthpRDWgYLrDpOrJgRY8BSz0U_8QF-3Zt5ICfnd-3mCN1cqdIWwq1G1nAl2lvDS24ej25DedFEA36XWyorQxs8/s1600/baboonpole.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 328px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9PO_pTg-Q_VQi17R407Vi3jdaMJUPuDXJtvK_cFPJcAY5ueSYJKr21YthpRDWgYLrDpOrJgRY8BSz0U_8QF-3Zt5ICfnd-3mCN1cqdIWwq1G1nAl2lvDS24ej25DedFEA36XWyorQxs8/s400/baboonpole.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458220068169653634" border="0" /></a><br />It felt incredibly good to sleep in a real bed compared to my futile attempts to catch a few winks in the economy seats of a crowded airliner over the previous two days. Despite the excitement and anticipation I slept like a baby, and woke the next morning ready to start my adventure.<br /><br />After a few shots at the range making sure that the rifle case was the only item the jerks at the TSA beat the crap out of, I was ready to go. My Dad's friend Ken who accompanied us won the "choose a number between 1-10" challenge and had the opportunity to hunt first. As we headed out across the Kalahari desert in search of game I was still just soaking up the scenery, the plants, the birds, the smells. Africa just feels electric and alive, and it is contagious.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1h6Jde9m6D5FKq6xMeuoi2tDsksyo2oGxbcOCwAlFaUl0cmQ-i9GiDZijbMP6Dtt8inn_DsSwCiUldBF6dWC4olrPnZCYL7kVbJORMgY2EXOtX7dFrKI1AALNpMEhOd0LqOlrlvwlDE/s1600/scenery1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1h6Jde9m6D5FKq6xMeuoi2tDsksyo2oGxbcOCwAlFaUl0cmQ-i9GiDZijbMP6Dtt8inn_DsSwCiUldBF6dWC4olrPnZCYL7kVbJORMgY2EXOtX7dFrKI1AALNpMEhOd0LqOlrlvwlDE/s400/scenery1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458230988918142370" border="0" /></a>After a short drive we spotted a bedded Springbok snoozing in an open meadow. Ken and the trackers made a stalk. After getting into position they had a long wait until the old man decided to stand up. After a warning shot, Ken shook the jitters and anchored the first big game animal of our trip. The Springbok was an old male with striking coloring and beautiful dark horns.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdPOb2em9rt3WeNNT6iebQ27gFxXoVdqiyD-D7Sb885bwP3KEhYj1iM7e4n7i_GFsKCeuAMttmd0E-YMiqSRbi5OwmNIs4jIOyhPn_6PY7IQ4mAwG_LCJAYmsKLhgtt_mkNygz7g_1Wc/s1600/springbokstalk.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFdPOb2em9rt3WeNNT6iebQ27gFxXoVdqiyD-D7Sb885bwP3KEhYj1iM7e4n7i_GFsKCeuAMttmd0E-YMiqSRbi5OwmNIs4jIOyhPn_6PY7IQ4mAwG_LCJAYmsKLhgtt_mkNygz7g_1Wc/s400/springbokstalk.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458231001702833554" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2HRt10_tdZ2Yavbm0M4TEC7_WipFNBnj6s-llfJCCspjw-UI65bPE1MX68odKXnPxw-zxOi5qWYKf4bAQcpntXUaGVpyTvCQiXlScMPafEenhrubnn7FxBO2zk-mbo_h4zDncFw7ApY/s1600/springbokclose.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 264px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj2HRt10_tdZ2Yavbm0M4TEC7_WipFNBnj6s-llfJCCspjw-UI65bPE1MX68odKXnPxw-zxOi5qWYKf4bAQcpntXUaGVpyTvCQiXlScMPafEenhrubnn7FxBO2zk-mbo_h4zDncFw7ApY/s400/springbokclose.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458231020669608738" border="0" /></a><br />After the trackers took Ken's springbok back to the butcher at the farm house, we continued our hunt. Now it was my turn, and I didn't have to wait long before I had the opportunity to take my own springbok. After my shot, he turned and ran 30 yards before expiring in the tall grass. The grass was so high that it took us several minutes of searching before we found him. I had taken my first animal on the dark continent and my Safari had begun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZUQ3hWx9n1kDPg7Y_2ldSgQJqvHdsaxcdlYAUC1AeV7seL5oksLqKdFYCReIMFMwkJEbSS-8S3MI6KM9gRSJ94L-Xf40ZVtKbZnwXGgNJy0BHSD5Vxvfe6NtH4PZLIav_mD_sz1cRPs/s1600/daxspringbok2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 282px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSZUQ3hWx9n1kDPg7Y_2ldSgQJqvHdsaxcdlYAUC1AeV7seL5oksLqKdFYCReIMFMwkJEbSS-8S3MI6KM9gRSJ94L-Xf40ZVtKbZnwXGgNJy0BHSD5Vxvfe6NtH4PZLIav_mD_sz1cRPs/s400/daxspringbok2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458231539824426002" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZOm5dKPK7LWPUmOVQhR39A17h_nZycLkLNrVWY-iYPL_mEtictcwPbGkg0iOtaEQy_J3Aak_bMN6AWsuGIf7x_FvjhRPmUgB9TWGlBNaPsHpsmZ3BZhzgDYoLY8YU06XQ4TUfXA1bQ0/s1600/daxspringbok.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgZOm5dKPK7LWPUmOVQhR39A17h_nZycLkLNrVWY-iYPL_mEtictcwPbGkg0iOtaEQy_J3Aak_bMN6AWsuGIf7x_FvjhRPmUgB9TWGlBNaPsHpsmZ3BZhzgDYoLY8YU06XQ4TUfXA1bQ0/s400/daxspringbok.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458231529866901154" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-76131923297918028292010-01-24T19:49:00.000-08:002010-01-24T19:57:50.619-08:00Wooly SnowplowI ran into 4 huge bulls the other day. They were digging through the snow with their heads to get at the grass beneath. I managed to get really close without spooking them and I ended up with some great photos. I wish I could convey the size of these animals through the photos, just massive. It is really neat to see free-ranging wild bison.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQL9EuAIxxsBLKPbp80c9G5iDKi8Mu4dG8URyAdL2dWbwuIXFnVOTuuoJcyYHTA-iY-_H-DkEu7TqpvSmbja9xU6hlmdpRjAfhlzXg93kQFjj70wJFVZoUnfQ6DbtXpPZCMvN3JRomz4/s1600-h/group.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQL9EuAIxxsBLKPbp80c9G5iDKi8Mu4dG8URyAdL2dWbwuIXFnVOTuuoJcyYHTA-iY-_H-DkEu7TqpvSmbja9xU6hlmdpRjAfhlzXg93kQFjj70wJFVZoUnfQ6DbtXpPZCMvN3JRomz4/s400/group.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430520786641143986" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9BHLfYzwUIEicaV1y9VZENEquQIY68rZWKI28xdEJM8h2Pb_ZBDbwn-kQXUVsSV3DETIUfSr0FET2r9bhC-8ElC1fcWYtf-SZPeWMIVtfq4W_0lgwNS98qn_Gi9GBsuPJtDjifUsdHY0/s1600-h/facedown.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9BHLfYzwUIEicaV1y9VZENEquQIY68rZWKI28xdEJM8h2Pb_ZBDbwn-kQXUVsSV3DETIUfSr0FET2r9bhC-8ElC1fcWYtf-SZPeWMIVtfq4W_0lgwNS98qn_Gi9GBsuPJtDjifUsdHY0/s400/facedown.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430520798142193458" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrrRjGkmZZGIDbA908Nc-RGHcuXWmdTbyxkzacx2Xue8L8Nek5Mz5ErR7D1mxTU3C3CQvW2lhm-rZdwjIqyqRCocoJCDY8zr6C0aHAz37Kxthwb61I6ubW6bxDwkLxvGrnAHOlkMkV68/s1600-h/snowface.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 329px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrrRjGkmZZGIDbA908Nc-RGHcuXWmdTbyxkzacx2Xue8L8Nek5Mz5ErR7D1mxTU3C3CQvW2lhm-rZdwjIqyqRCocoJCDY8zr6C0aHAz37Kxthwb61I6ubW6bxDwkLxvGrnAHOlkMkV68/s400/snowface.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430520805970982450" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQt-rKq2BU9PoWi3AopB5GrfpDOTJk1vwBRQljTWjJv5HmdINz4RdDpSt2fEVaVUxxOHEruTHWHVAeZLg0ciq5zCbFoD_dRX9O2z0gLQtaWcIb815Q1rTEgM7WYTAluAtrkC2uF4gclS4/s1600-h/face.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 398px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQt-rKq2BU9PoWi3AopB5GrfpDOTJk1vwBRQljTWjJv5HmdINz4RdDpSt2fEVaVUxxOHEruTHWHVAeZLg0ciq5zCbFoD_dRX9O2z0gLQtaWcIb815Q1rTEgM7WYTAluAtrkC2uF4gclS4/s400/face.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430520812344389570" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-26136163735915303252009-12-12T08:36:00.000-08:002009-12-12T08:53:22.338-08:00Nice vs. NastyI have been seeing some neat bucks this year in the Book Cliffs. I just fell in love with a big old nasty 2x3. He had a huge frame, massive body, gnarly bases, a couple cheaters, and one of his eyes had been gouged out fighting. Not some peoples idea of a trophy buck, but all that character and nastiness makes him awesome to me. I would love to take a buck like him.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUZty4LhgpJC9oB-HAWL7Iy8A7PIjd840F14tLwmq7QasZk1Ty7wBcXobteJBuZRCYbxziZxFx066Kma1Gu_Xcsz_dxxR5_3MkKD5jcWMDIanDoiormigPtlaXSeDoTN62nphSiJfLeM/s1600-h/one+eye.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUZty4LhgpJC9oB-HAWL7Iy8A7PIjd840F14tLwmq7QasZk1Ty7wBcXobteJBuZRCYbxziZxFx066Kma1Gu_Xcsz_dxxR5_3MkKD5jcWMDIanDoiormigPtlaXSeDoTN62nphSiJfLeM/s400/one+eye.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414392199312623122" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I also saw a buck that would probably meet most hunters definition of a trophy. A wide, symmetrical, clean 4 point. He was impressive too, but I still like my nasty buck. I am not sure what I would do if I had to choose between them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKANwH40uaTHz98qN_5tsq8LqJBGdMIEQs6jYKW3t_i5rJEjZ8vkn1I16P2Kw_hRNEMqn3bRBA_HvopIIjpgbI0I-EYlllE9lE0wFALe5GHxmKyrSv3CacLguXWGsSFCTZNgSst2EndE/s1600-h/wide+b.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKANwH40uaTHz98qN_5tsq8LqJBGdMIEQs6jYKW3t_i5rJEjZ8vkn1I16P2Kw_hRNEMqn3bRBA_HvopIIjpgbI0I-EYlllE9lE0wFALe5GHxmKyrSv3CacLguXWGsSFCTZNgSst2EndE/s400/wide+b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414392587864172514" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This buck was still in full velvet in late November, typically a sign of missing the family jewels which logically has a negative affect on testosterone levels.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJydDxLg8x0wYjLLRhJcMUhE3VN1Fg3lmggpUJt6Q5kukYVCA4hxxmYcvMnsR93bWHonb8eM9x9rDcEpQsyk0Zplz0nQFpCk3FkY8kzjOFKFTJoPSvu3U8uicl0_bbTcpOFpK9-MxWe4/s1600-h/velvet.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJydDxLg8x0wYjLLRhJcMUhE3VN1Fg3lmggpUJt6Q5kukYVCA4hxxmYcvMnsR93bWHonb8eM9x9rDcEpQsyk0Zplz0nQFpCk3FkY8kzjOFKFTJoPSvu3U8uicl0_bbTcpOFpK9-MxWe4/s400/velvet.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414392594715555954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is my favorite time of year in the Book Cliffs.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ix06YO_0IH385wV96H8yCLjJQFCOjQ5mZy5U1u68qMtwiTAoZxiOiWXWnL_TsTuaIH07RFboCNSLXA8bc1B1yVSwmXxGU8U5UEgeghOwR6ezD2cv2ziXQGr37P8WdCcIKkUbJQvQDQ0/s1600-h/lip+curler.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 305px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ix06YO_0IH385wV96H8yCLjJQFCOjQ5mZy5U1u68qMtwiTAoZxiOiWXWnL_TsTuaIH07RFboCNSLXA8bc1B1yVSwmXxGU8U5UEgeghOwR6ezD2cv2ziXQGr37P8WdCcIKkUbJQvQDQ0/s400/lip+curler.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414392601493990978" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-20120446091072439722009-11-14T20:30:00.000-08:002009-11-14T20:34:49.353-08:00Tatonka<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Spot</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_PjBKJa3PmvS0YFQZ81R8NxHvCwRP8tZaVpGBLUOVJtKzN9hCYa80BgdJrlntl2gjlBHg0FxlApiZNh3ytK7bm2y1Q1gJMrJDKeQMn1IzaCqzw06-LvyIChPLed2JJ6S-M7rokOeEGPs/s1600-h/spot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_PjBKJa3PmvS0YFQZ81R8NxHvCwRP8tZaVpGBLUOVJtKzN9hCYa80BgdJrlntl2gjlBHg0FxlApiZNh3ytK7bm2y1Q1gJMrJDKeQMn1IzaCqzw06-LvyIChPLed2JJ6S-M7rokOeEGPs/s400/spot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404183632255790882" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Stalk</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeDkFe7r9zTTYgUePMZ74bQD6j2MBfGHpg4ffHQxz8TzugJLNHyLpsOnl2EOIcPRjNgGSJ-U3P0ytui5OzJ-iO83SRf8ENP0pMfi8lr-k4k2wtDdM2FpQueH4iMdUxpvrVv2r8ZiIjVQ/s1600-h/stalk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWeDkFe7r9zTTYgUePMZ74bQD6j2MBfGHpg4ffHQxz8TzugJLNHyLpsOnl2EOIcPRjNgGSJ-U3P0ytui5OzJ-iO83SRf8ENP0pMfi8lr-k4k2wtDdM2FpQueH4iMdUxpvrVv2r8ZiIjVQ/s400/stalk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404183641716254386" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shot</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2geLImqUFSJ_gE-YgPMHPUEYmhd-Qe5XyNZNfZkwGLaIGhiFmTztEa0zlhNYPGun7XyvP638pmP31CryliIwPuBBSLdkwPBJrvZy9klqvaNOFoz0qVEZYNA7qKx5zEtKTmNj_5IF92lc/s1600-h/sticks.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2geLImqUFSJ_gE-YgPMHPUEYmhd-Qe5XyNZNfZkwGLaIGhiFmTztEa0zlhNYPGun7XyvP638pmP31CryliIwPuBBSLdkwPBJrvZy9klqvaNOFoz0qVEZYNA7qKx5zEtKTmNj_5IF92lc/s400/sticks.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404183644182129234" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Success</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbf6mddz9TXH7mgyL4hbDqNaW5Ywkz05Rjgi3NOdn46wL9QnvSWw11zoqkmtMgFU32Ek4vep6Tg7yiQQ2ez_l8tEoxy2SkGZVmAAiyqLi0jAMibNxghcr4yet7duQdhI-SJquvzN28RVw/s1600-h/ground.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbf6mddz9TXH7mgyL4hbDqNaW5Ywkz05Rjgi3NOdn46wL9QnvSWw11zoqkmtMgFU32Ek4vep6Tg7yiQQ2ez_l8tEoxy2SkGZVmAAiyqLi0jAMibNxghcr4yet7duQdhI-SJquvzN28RVw/s400/ground.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404183629388254578" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-45658553275370886292009-11-09T19:45:00.000-08:002009-11-09T20:17:41.673-08:00Hard at WorkThese photos pretty much show my work schedule for the last couple months. I haven't included any photos of my desk in the basement where my thesis was written, or my office in Vernal where I do spend a considerable amount of time, but these ones are more fun.<br /><br />The family chillin' the chopper before I went up to count Mountain Goats.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8s8JdhcDeLymdS_RxdJgMODwx1IPC_H2TrO41rpf2euaaayzf5SLbdJwfE3ZrQg2uezmsCd2Hw56yaWSCVaMnEk3CAA-RApmNH19YuEr3ZJqdFrm2FbbwkEM74G-xjbZ6fLJZOFmTZM/s1600-h/chopper.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8s8JdhcDeLymdS_RxdJgMODwx1IPC_H2TrO41rpf2euaaayzf5SLbdJwfE3ZrQg2uezmsCd2Hw56yaWSCVaMnEk3CAA-RApmNH19YuEr3ZJqdFrm2FbbwkEM74G-xjbZ6fLJZOFmTZM/s400/chopper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402322059604450402" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Radio-collared bighorn sheep at Flaming Gorge. Found the live ones and recovered the collar from a dead one too.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3JccQH1NLuTkS3A2BtGeLvZ2LNDbR1HEz0JlJHOxItu36S8Y0PCjsVDRatN-jGsLk_B_BMXUyZw4nWXs6fRM-dLZnWImD4jaPiQZhi0_Kp-dz4rD_fZjnQKtQ2m3qnNkNYbdqrvvjP8o/s1600-h/collar.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 302px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3JccQH1NLuTkS3A2BtGeLvZ2LNDbR1HEz0JlJHOxItu36S8Y0PCjsVDRatN-jGsLk_B_BMXUyZw4nWXs6fRM-dLZnWImD4jaPiQZhi0_Kp-dz4rD_fZjnQKtQ2m3qnNkNYbdqrvvjP8o/s400/collar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402321586956160146" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NGUS_DZW_hmg6yBhE5tMgbHQAXDiSFdzkncDklmfssdTg73DGnIQeSSWpHmDIzygp_UhZ0L2Nx1cG2YklaBJviKFxcrOIUEP6hVtCe4lWsxXR9vXu8CquhYctbPOkFkWRh_8NddC6QY/s1600-h/bighorn.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9NGUS_DZW_hmg6yBhE5tMgbHQAXDiSFdzkncDklmfssdTg73DGnIQeSSWpHmDIzygp_UhZ0L2Nx1cG2YklaBJviKFxcrOIUEP6hVtCe4lWsxXR9vXu8CquhYctbPOkFkWRh_8NddC6QY/s400/bighorn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402321593775074514" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Jalapeno bacon cheeseburgers for lunch at the deer hunt checkstation. Mmmmm.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheEbYJb-x1SoOecJXIo3-sUlttNdMxdmyNaSdkqixwG7t5JNu9CHcy1-ldQtRVy41uvBTJCN9ezkA42sh7ow3nkRu2yez51CrcgNvyiXVhcuIcR-yOHhL5wl_17MUHRBjQIsQseeC6M6M/s1600-h/burgers.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheEbYJb-x1SoOecJXIo3-sUlttNdMxdmyNaSdkqixwG7t5JNu9CHcy1-ldQtRVy41uvBTJCN9ezkA42sh7ow3nkRu2yez51CrcgNvyiXVhcuIcR-yOHhL5wl_17MUHRBjQIsQseeC6M6M/s400/burgers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402321577017924770" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Bison photo taken out the window of our little 4-seater airplane. We did lots of circling and I didn't even puke.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1-meTEQ4woXCRVRnskFuh27TRYJLWxbrakyGH2KBjp3Si2hI7K7EnQwVg4cbUuLuZcq5ioFXCx6PTnikkH1BGIoUByGFIzLX3MHH9kUr6OmhCETSVW1RGRglwIFTJqgbqm_8aaDy9hc/s1600-h/buffs.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 354px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr1-meTEQ4woXCRVRnskFuh27TRYJLWxbrakyGH2KBjp3Si2hI7K7EnQwVg4cbUuLuZcq5ioFXCx6PTnikkH1BGIoUByGFIzLX3MHH9kUr6OmhCETSVW1RGRglwIFTJqgbqm_8aaDy9hc/s400/buffs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402321574699065570" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Caught this bull digging through the snow for his breakfast.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-g4B7sEXfIAfQZbnM7FMM4_eZ1IM5AAPacEAHnTdtCqfxP95p5SdcBK_Xq-Nf7u098CxpCWnPDLhjQvCA4VKho14Al2z9yA0-NffeE3IkbQ55lBQ0I5HL9DwMhwxzhGb-a7ND9PDmwqA/s1600-h/snow+bull.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 313px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-g4B7sEXfIAfQZbnM7FMM4_eZ1IM5AAPacEAHnTdtCqfxP95p5SdcBK_Xq-Nf7u098CxpCWnPDLhjQvCA4VKho14Al2z9yA0-NffeE3IkbQ55lBQ0I5HL9DwMhwxzhGb-a7ND9PDmwqA/s400/snow+bull.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402320829526535634" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LuXwdfAf7ahMGfoaMtwF8mgoKZvTx7EOPfeSbassmh0GjWTg8NUHCgl3_qGpQ6uHjeaSHn0O4vPyALXH6bMuI-hM3W4a3rgTvJYHiftK3o0TAS-z__94mKVHzNdVvYcTKxPU40zaO6A/s1600-h/snow+bull2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LuXwdfAf7ahMGfoaMtwF8mgoKZvTx7EOPfeSbassmh0GjWTg8NUHCgl3_qGpQ6uHjeaSHn0O4vPyALXH6bMuI-hM3W4a3rgTvJYHiftK3o0TAS-z__94mKVHzNdVvYcTKxPU40zaO6A/s400/snow+bull2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402321565799745122" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This smaller buck hopped out of the way when his bigger buddy let him know he was invading his personal space bubble. Once the bubble was restored, they seemed to get along just fine.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerb1jScGLjZGHmkhGfYE6G6DvGut4seCABZSX4ObYtJvJRMx0kOLPqGsBv-7bq9V7Av2wkdo-dJJwUG2bV2SI1acaOf3y4veuNWwpts8geEate04WMPQTCnzm_ReSbmjp5gDntSzah6E/s1600-h/jumper.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgerb1jScGLjZGHmkhGfYE6G6DvGut4seCABZSX4ObYtJvJRMx0kOLPqGsBv-7bq9V7Av2wkdo-dJJwUG2bV2SI1acaOf3y4veuNWwpts8geEate04WMPQTCnzm_ReSbmjp5gDntSzah6E/s400/jumper.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402320821292392098" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEfn5ANxAG_g2gy6Bqbx-vVaRzLKFhhZtv3n7enDbwSxoaOI3eYc0lyzQ3wKg_14GwoDx_ycNhI0LhLthuv-JNAqJXXFa6Y7wSw4XLh8iY6-AvA_Ld4wYLmcNUVQpjHxXCWppbCvWJYw/s1600-h/pair.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 296px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEfn5ANxAG_g2gy6Bqbx-vVaRzLKFhhZtv3n7enDbwSxoaOI3eYc0lyzQ3wKg_14GwoDx_ycNhI0LhLthuv-JNAqJXXFa6Y7wSw4XLh8iY6-AvA_Ld4wYLmcNUVQpjHxXCWppbCvWJYw/s400/pair.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402322064331763538" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I just caught of glimpse of these heavy antlers above the brush and stopped and watched this old buck for a few minutes. Big and chunky, just how I like 'em.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvUCWik_XWLE3ovUT3PYmJbX7WcLrSZ_Kqp8aGo3bGA7FzJmo25uQXp8voxsbULLz7PqPMBGEbPPZgop8Bt71rR2tJSdo4QMC0UydjXGBCWh_jqbO1LEUsiLmv4fSXTQHO08ExCTuJuL8/s1600-h/cheaters.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvUCWik_XWLE3ovUT3PYmJbX7WcLrSZ_Kqp8aGo3bGA7FzJmo25uQXp8voxsbULLz7PqPMBGEbPPZgop8Bt71rR2tJSdo4QMC0UydjXGBCWh_jqbO1LEUsiLmv4fSXTQHO08ExCTuJuL8/s400/cheaters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402320818580000866" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfS1JE5ssm6DGyLR3KV29cHlLozzxf3kt_cUbYEGZZGZWl4uIfpDm6abg_rnKBNvWpAYtO7bLJ3FCCxTs6j9Ow5k6LAELlq639iU3iDChyphenhyphentdg00BPT0rQNJ41O3rAPELlwwV4OElxi0o/s1600-h/side.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOfS1JE5ssm6DGyLR3KV29cHlLozzxf3kt_cUbYEGZZGZWl4uIfpDm6abg_rnKBNvWpAYtO7bLJ3FCCxTs6j9Ow5k6LAELlq639iU3iDChyphenhyphentdg00BPT0rQNJ41O3rAPELlwwV4OElxi0o/s400/side.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402320816266164274" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqc7xfUi-twsfCh3JFKijRVO0A3CFBVneoPsaWh4gHik9Wz7tztPj5rX2c41r0iypslyIc1aaDk1fncRwIPoAiycbOkxM5Xomwmyi7vEWyo1LKQZcPV6iUgJn-FXNrqoivZodBb_AxG8g/s1600-h/mass.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqc7xfUi-twsfCh3JFKijRVO0A3CFBVneoPsaWh4gHik9Wz7tztPj5rX2c41r0iypslyIc1aaDk1fncRwIPoAiycbOkxM5Xomwmyi7vEWyo1LKQZcPV6iUgJn-FXNrqoivZodBb_AxG8g/s400/mass.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402320806832270050" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Hopefully I will be getting some more good deer photos in the next few weeks. Counting deer in November has to be my favorite part of my job.Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-20343524692708418932009-10-24T16:15:00.000-07:002009-10-24T16:44:07.595-07:00H1N1 BuckThings didn't go exactly as planned on my Colorado deer hunt. After building preference points for 5 years, finally drawing the tag, months of meticulous planning and lots of anticipation, things started to go wrong. My usually mellow boss flipped a 180 and told me I was required to stay in Utah and work the first 3 days of my hunt. After 3 very long days I finally finished my work obligations and headed out Monday night. I arrived in camp in the late evening and got ready for the next morning. Tuesday morning started with a light rain shower that got stronger and stronger and lasted most of the day. I gave it my best, but didn't accomplish much other than getting soaking wet and freezing cold. Tuesday night I called home to find that Preslie was in the hospital with post-influenza related respiratory complications. I drove home and spent most of the next couple days in the Hospital. We brought Preslie home from the hospital Thursday afternoon. After a follow-up Dr. visit Friday morning confirmed that she was doing better I decided to run back out to hunt one more day before the season ended. I left Friday after lunch, and shot my buck at about 6:30 pm just a few minutes after getting back to my hunting area. My friend Shane and I packed him out, I slept a few hours, and got up and made it back home for a total trip time of about 24 hours. While it is not the buck I had hoped to get on this hunt, considering the circumstances, I am thrilled. Thanks to God for watching over my Little Babe, to Tristie for handling all the stress at home and for letting me go back out to try to fill my tag, and to Shane for sticking around to hunt with me for one more day.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwQ-ZeP90nAHjAupXQH000GeopYaHvty1em5_cnh3OP_e-alVsCuvrZFRsFXm7eTEcdpIgRo5HnJc7EsFt2iQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-q1C2gsFaKl9CiW-sJvtESO3x1u6FRaQD5g9EUG2dHPIBCy4EOKgUwlTqpN5c_g3mgFnv4dfDx896kpGlvMt4rbvNd09kR8rVvsegp5G-5vvwpDZcPe_8BsRT44XdtmhGe8ThJhdnngQ/s1600-h/co1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-q1C2gsFaKl9CiW-sJvtESO3x1u6FRaQD5g9EUG2dHPIBCy4EOKgUwlTqpN5c_g3mgFnv4dfDx896kpGlvMt4rbvNd09kR8rVvsegp5G-5vvwpDZcPe_8BsRT44XdtmhGe8ThJhdnngQ/s400/co1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396316132001607490" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaXWvctep9hXFTAKthxUWpM2ow7b9vCKBGz0xXY-4gYrn_MFOdH7iS8fcTLDGTvhdfjPguhoGynMCtOi4euU03MoqhtRz9e9X_zQDUWqSuhWk1bg_mjwloN5sID3sZtcUKOsL6Nv4sNY/s1600-h/co2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaXWvctep9hXFTAKthxUWpM2ow7b9vCKBGz0xXY-4gYrn_MFOdH7iS8fcTLDGTvhdfjPguhoGynMCtOi4euU03MoqhtRz9e9X_zQDUWqSuhWk1bg_mjwloN5sID3sZtcUKOsL6Nv4sNY/s400/co2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396316135754627010" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-33685720140673595442009-10-09T16:50:00.000-07:002009-10-09T17:01:44.349-07:00And then God created Mule Deer CountryI just got back from a deer hunt in South Central Wyoming. You just couldn't make better mule deer habitat. It was cold, and the hunting was slow for big bucks. I had a ball with an old friend from school/work and his brother. We ate well, put lots of miles on the 4-wheelers, saw tons of deer, and passed bucks every day. After a few days without turning up anything big, I saw this 2-point and my itchy trigger finger got the best of me. I made a 302 yard shot with my Dad's .300 Ultra Mag and my first Wyoming mule deer bit the dust (hard). After I broke the ice, my friend and his brother put the hammer down on bucks of their own later that same day. Not the monster you always hope for in the back of your mind, but it was probably one of the most relaxing hunts I have ever been on. Good friends, gorgeous country, and some venison for winter too. I can't complain.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ViSShF80nEttchFe4GXracCQl3uyXZhmsW8StNkClUxQMUSxylvxFWaUk9byqeKdHasrhVBJUcRZjU7s0HjZqv4CE6ySV2ZAqiODNS-oDyAE6U-QIQF7_S1A03B5eUfzic5rMJf_7yQ/s1600-h/w+buck+2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ViSShF80nEttchFe4GXracCQl3uyXZhmsW8StNkClUxQMUSxylvxFWaUk9byqeKdHasrhVBJUcRZjU7s0HjZqv4CE6ySV2ZAqiODNS-oDyAE6U-QIQF7_S1A03B5eUfzic5rMJf_7yQ/s400/w+buck+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390754049348056242" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIgo0tlduOfkNs8oulkxQ_iqVMjUz4UoQFoxyP2VN9I37o9g2eZW-aVE6b_8PFR7z8RhRxyx2Q0I3XOBVkmW-ttmU5wCLE0V5NR2uEExNrBgHzK5pp3iXXl4bQqns0YMh8ha1hO65azw/s1600-h/w+buck+3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIgo0tlduOfkNs8oulkxQ_iqVMjUz4UoQFoxyP2VN9I37o9g2eZW-aVE6b_8PFR7z8RhRxyx2Q0I3XOBVkmW-ttmU5wCLE0V5NR2uEExNrBgHzK5pp3iXXl4bQqns0YMh8ha1hO65azw/s400/w+buck+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390754060486569106" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJN0hkWkhj6qIalg0njqA_excxOp6gHWPZjaf87FhONpoVdCk3jxolIEcYc_o8T2JpJmbe89MSE-m2UCH7pEQ3iFKDzrakRQ_W-4ixn-rNsY9luLjfhOd9hoCaZmGJkM7oTKcTHiIjiE/s1600-h/w+buck.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAJN0hkWkhj6qIalg0njqA_excxOp6gHWPZjaf87FhONpoVdCk3jxolIEcYc_o8T2JpJmbe89MSE-m2UCH7pEQ3iFKDzrakRQ_W-4ixn-rNsY9luLjfhOd9hoCaZmGJkM7oTKcTHiIjiE/s400/w+buck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390754043255211714" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-17410179113755894062009-09-17T14:55:00.001-07:002009-09-17T15:12:48.883-07:00Do or DieThis is it. I took a full time job in August 2007 even though I was just in the preliminary stages of writing my thesis to finish my MS degree at Utah State. I had completed my coursework and research project and just needed to run the data through analysis and write it up. Not a problem to do that evenings and weekends while working full time right? Wrong! I know some people seem to be able to do that, but I have not.<br /><br />We moved to Roosevelt and I started a rather demanding full-time job with an unpredictable schedule and lots of overtime. I loved it and dove in headfirst trying to learn my area and the duties of my position. We had baby Mack in October which added some additional stress and time commitments, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Life got full and complicated and before I knew it, a year had passed and I had made very little progress on writing.<br /><br />In August of 2008 after an exhaustive and frustrating real estate search we decided to build our own home. We did our own framing, electric, paint, finish carpentry, tile, stone, etc. I spent every extra evening and weekend minute at the house from Sept to February. In the spring we moved in and I started doing a little thesis work again. I found some time here and there and finally finished my data analysis. In the meantime my university colleges, my employer, my family , and about everyone else I know hounded me constantly about when I was going to finish my degree. Then I got the news that 2 of my 3 committee members were retiring and the 3rd was moving to California. We dedicated that fall 2009 was the last window of opportunity for me to defend. I figured I would have lots of time in the summer to get my writing done and be ready to defend in the fall without a problem.<br /><br />Well here we are mid September and I am really starting to sweat. I have turned in 2 drafts to my committee and both times was asked to do major re-writes. I am halfway through the second re-write and I can hear the clock ticking (loudly). I have been royally chewed out by my boss and my wife (I will let you guess which chewing was worse). I turned back in a deer tag that took me 9 years to draw to give myself more time to write, and after paying $1200 in tuition to register for the required 3 credits of thesis defense this is it. Do or die time. If I can't finish this semester...Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-2192088130843356692009-07-15T18:10:00.001-07:002009-07-15T19:19:59.672-07:00A Home with Roaming Buffalo and Playing DeerI got to spend another night in the Book Cliffs looking for roaming buffalo...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_j2ub9LfGHGO9aJrmUc3sO7EkLkVYCkATF1tHv5u5Winrm-w5QeJjBJamAzqmeH2C486Er_SWht1lJL7X4LJh2gsnoKvx2B9nJc0KlxbSdJYwHwf5vMSTCnrsNFL109P9ydNzPVi-FE/s1600-h/bison.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358875798288578162" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_j2ub9LfGHGO9aJrmUc3sO7EkLkVYCkATF1tHv5u5Winrm-w5QeJjBJamAzqmeH2C486Er_SWht1lJL7X4LJh2gsnoKvx2B9nJc0KlxbSdJYwHwf5vMSTCnrsNFL109P9ydNzPVi-FE/s400/bison.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />After I found the bison, I got to play with the deer a little too.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbgXd2Z4gkLENHSBJAdXf0eHZU8bfB2HOcG5ZzUSRi0KsJAoUG2_O9fJG8-9RxkJvy3q6bCBwnvk4t9AdRIZH-avL6MmBjrGxD8auwbV8EDEZPlwupvNgotkvqA6alvNFHUUgq7Tcuqk/s1600-h/bucks1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358875769566245378" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNbgXd2Z4gkLENHSBJAdXf0eHZU8bfB2HOcG5ZzUSRi0KsJAoUG2_O9fJG8-9RxkJvy3q6bCBwnvk4t9AdRIZH-avL6MmBjrGxD8auwbV8EDEZPlwupvNgotkvqA6alvNFHUUgq7Tcuqk/s400/bucks1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0oVKq0Xue9ayEYiXKTKlo53uceNWeVTKJMNGDWsRk0itU5wFeVswbgi-FhfYdwiwGfcISQ7boqg6lDU2t5YtNMsZsfrMngRTherBxkUSE8BdfnFGSuNjPMnlxjSkRxwDzht-LkRoMpo/s1600-h/bucks4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358875778332354994" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 309px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR0oVKq0Xue9ayEYiXKTKlo53uceNWeVTKJMNGDWsRk0itU5wFeVswbgi-FhfYdwiwGfcISQ7boqg6lDU2t5YtNMsZsfrMngRTherBxkUSE8BdfnFGSuNjPMnlxjSkRxwDzht-LkRoMpo/s400/bucks4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfVffwqRQb9AUoBHP7OrqTiR10kYhz96u8nUpH6vVu0Qapo1T8s20-jng0sp9GZ9u89Jr_ztU6CUL8AAMVb42_HfMSeiyRDa-9Ph0siP47GCXSo-2hq2SJEd6QLmyrpQIEB0Zaq06-kM/s1600-h/wide+eyeguards.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358876471237908034" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 304px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIfVffwqRQb9AUoBHP7OrqTiR10kYhz96u8nUpH6vVu0Qapo1T8s20-jng0sp9GZ9u89Jr_ztU6CUL8AAMVb42_HfMSeiyRDa-9Ph0siP47GCXSo-2hq2SJEd6QLmyrpQIEB0Zaq06-kM/s400/wide+eyeguards.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Next I met up with my Peruvian friend that had a late night scare with a bear. He was alone in an old cabin without electricity, a gun, or even a dog. He scrapped together a spear for himself with some baling twine, a fence post, and an old knife and spent a long night sitting alone in the dark waiting to see if the bear was going to come back. We got him a dog, a .30-30, and set a trap just in case the bear did come back. I think he is sleeping a little better now.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp22DNt-I7bgDOkuLRAety_M4cqMS-m14H6RAYKw60WKjt_T1LeWJX4CwkhJq5KkiB3XbsKrsauRJFkfYuB5ll7BoXm9FW_ylEx1DJxLDCtXP6dAr6c5QgRSD-uaL9McUVt-sjhsYJn64/s1600-h/P1010319.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358875793706491186" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp22DNt-I7bgDOkuLRAety_M4cqMS-m14H6RAYKw60WKjt_T1LeWJX4CwkhJq5KkiB3XbsKrsauRJFkfYuB5ll7BoXm9FW_ylEx1DJxLDCtXP6dAr6c5QgRSD-uaL9McUVt-sjhsYJn64/s400/P1010319.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Another great trip to the Books.Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-69398758750668693462009-07-02T16:18:00.000-07:002009-07-02T16:32:05.645-07:00Dax Likes RacksI like big racks and I cannot lie.<br /><br />I spent an awesome night out in the Book Cliffs and saw about 70 different bucks. I also saw all kinds of elk, 3 coyotes, bison, antelope, and a bear eating a dead cow. What a great trip!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBJJ0AVt0_Q3dI_TYNx5JH5NjOaEepzcJJ9KpJrhnF2cME2C9GhKRX0PWBZqtuOPFDITxdACBqlLL5zcETqf9qgQvAlYBvl8NzV55MNxhj23_7gFv5sNKGl7AELjxLGEGeQLnzmtZS_4/s1600-h/P1010296.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354008671258720066" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieBJJ0AVt0_Q3dI_TYNx5JH5NjOaEepzcJJ9KpJrhnF2cME2C9GhKRX0PWBZqtuOPFDITxdACBqlLL5zcETqf9qgQvAlYBvl8NzV55MNxhj23_7gFv5sNKGl7AELjxLGEGeQLnzmtZS_4/s400/P1010296.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div>The bucks still have a little growing to do, but you can get a pretty good idea of what they are going to look like. I am not just watching for fun this year, my hunt opens on my birthday in about 2.5 months. I can't wait.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWwtmltlPk9_DsCN3Xs0ok5E2tbXoUfEiC1q7H8fJJxkX3fMAahuCY0V8udpbzboVa0A4qSNkrt45-hgz8s0yWE2GkURDa5BYi6Qy411rEl6IAqKjSHYUpi8ZxEWPO7xp9wK6fjaM2PQ/s1600-h/skyline.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354008089087939330" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsWwtmltlPk9_DsCN3Xs0ok5E2tbXoUfEiC1q7H8fJJxkX3fMAahuCY0V8udpbzboVa0A4qSNkrt45-hgz8s0yWE2GkURDa5BYi6Qy411rEl6IAqKjSHYUpi8ZxEWPO7xp9wK6fjaM2PQ/s400/skyline.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHILvziAPxzRasClAscC2JazD7EWK7ZzBvjSAlK7RcjspDOzjpDVHUjHQLUqYaEQdBKMcmci2pgOV8GFBSqcEtZFaxuR3B9o8OIJM3pXRgfzgTRhs2uWV42wXbUTT-bxdh1TY_K1IV61c/s1600-h/cheater.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354008106252532130" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 327px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHILvziAPxzRasClAscC2JazD7EWK7ZzBvjSAlK7RcjspDOzjpDVHUjHQLUqYaEQdBKMcmci2pgOV8GFBSqcEtZFaxuR3B9o8OIJM3pXRgfzgTRhs2uWV42wXbUTT-bxdh1TY_K1IV61c/s400/cheater.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopJkf1WzAtY5x2-mYCcUBgzt-XVZlktk5caT_1Acg7rsZ6GXpBVqeDk7s9ePwO4uPw3yfCjOdLvY5BRgWowow9jYneZlR_0tDR_iVrcaag3E_BicufKm8CwWdpEc7tFefsnv-22qv2wA/s1600-h/P1010298.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354008103800512738" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopJkf1WzAtY5x2-mYCcUBgzt-XVZlktk5caT_1Acg7rsZ6GXpBVqeDk7s9ePwO4uPw3yfCjOdLvY5BRgWowow9jYneZlR_0tDR_iVrcaag3E_BicufKm8CwWdpEc7tFefsnv-22qv2wA/s400/P1010298.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44muQLYvRhxJPsOtfpJmASqm2gaxTe7J8TxxlV4WAh_33u8vU8HzOpiCU1ULsCvTOXjQwiBn1ioDiO0izkEs0fJTbIspi_vMLCckM9ioDMDI6JRdoEnU7FTOcM-0wZpNGxQjhfXcEvck/s1600-h/P1010286.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354008093984595602" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44muQLYvRhxJPsOtfpJmASqm2gaxTe7J8TxxlV4WAh_33u8vU8HzOpiCU1ULsCvTOXjQwiBn1ioDiO0izkEs0fJTbIspi_vMLCckM9ioDMDI6JRdoEnU7FTOcM-0wZpNGxQjhfXcEvck/s400/P1010286.JPG" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2686720057599556623.post-6784464388196590262009-05-22T13:02:00.000-07:002009-05-22T13:09:31.877-07:00SpotsThis week while I was hiking down a canyon, I saw a cow elk with her newborn calf. She went around a hill out of sight and the calf laid down. When I came over the hill she ran around trying to divert attention from where her calf was hiding, but I went straight over to the calf. I found him lying in the sagebrush holding perfectly still. He couldn't have been more than a day or two old. After a quick inspection the calf was released and made his way back to his mom. It was a pretty neat morning.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbvKTKjBKRtopaoj0l2GJCdC0YPJOfVUsipnuLRWbAagf1s9KBC7FKFdMRNI7VyGP3E3PKWOV8bzKxQ2k4SQjQ0WTbP8WQN2k1wq5q_8XM-1CVg7k_R6ZboXsM_rl-xsl483v2zJhLHQ/s1600-h/spots.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338742731049670754" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 338px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinbvKTKjBKRtopaoj0l2GJCdC0YPJOfVUsipnuLRWbAagf1s9KBC7FKFdMRNI7VyGP3E3PKWOV8bzKxQ2k4SQjQ0WTbP8WQN2k1wq5q_8XM-1CVg7k_R6ZboXsM_rl-xsl483v2zJhLHQ/s400/spots.jpg" border="0" /></a>Tristie hearts Daxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01677465008038908933noreply@blogger.com2