At First Light

Practice What You Preach...Or Not

2011-11-10T12:48:00.000-08:00

After 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.

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.

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.

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.

All I know is that I can't wait for a chance to redeem myself.

Started with a Fist Fight, Ended with a Stabbing

2011-10-29T16:44:00.000-07:00

Opening 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.

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.

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

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.

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)

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...

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!

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.

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!

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.

"Is that the same one that was here this morning?" asked Paul "

No, it's a bigger one, shoot it now!" they answered.

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.

"Should I shoot him again?" Paul asked.

"No, don't waste another bullet or ruin any meat, I'll just slit his throat" said Matt.

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.

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!

IT IS DONE!

2011-06-06T07:45:00.000-07:00

Better late than never. Thesis and MS degree are done!!!

Fun and Frustration

2010-10-04T14:59:00.000-07:00

After 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

Finding Mr. Right

2010-08-09T16:19:00.000-07:00

I 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.

Oryx Oryx Oryx!!!

2010-05-20T19:59:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Big Bore

2010-05-13T14:40:00.000-07:00

Since 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).

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.

.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.

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.

"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.

Red Hartebeast

2010-05-04T20:44:00.000-07:00

The 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Ribs

2010-04-18T21:13:00.000-07:00

I 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!

Before

After

Kudu, How Do You Do?

2010-04-10T13:17:00.000-07:00

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Springbok, The Begining...

2010-04-09T11:59:00.000-07:00

A couple years ago my Dad fulfilled one of his lifelong dreams and went on an African Safari. His first safari 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.

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.

After traveling for what felt like a week and a half (but was only actually 3 days) we landed at the airport in Windhoek, Namibia. We met our hosts and were off to the ranch 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Wooly Snowplow

2010-01-24T19:49:00.000-08:00

I 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.

Nice vs. Nasty

2009-12-12T08:36:00.000-08:00

I 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.

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.

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.

This is my favorite time of year in the Book Cliffs.

Tatonka

2009-11-14T20:30:00.000-08:00

Spot

Stalk

Shot

Success

Hard at Work

2009-11-09T19:45:00.000-08:00

These 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.

The family chillin' the chopper before I went up to count Mountain Goats.

Radio-collared bighorn sheep at Flaming Gorge. Found the live ones and recovered the collar from a dead one too.

Jalapeno bacon cheeseburgers for lunch at the deer hunt checkstation. Mmmmm.

Bison photo taken out the window of our little 4-seater airplane. We did lots of circling and I didn't even puke.

Caught this bull digging through the snow for his breakfast.

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.

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.

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.

H1N1 Buck

2009-10-24T16:15:00.000-07:00

Things 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.

And then God created Mule Deer Country

2009-10-09T16:50:00.000-07:00

I 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.

Do or Die

2009-09-17T14:55:00.001-07:00

This 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.

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.

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.

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...

A Home with Roaming Buffalo and Playing Deer

2009-07-15T18:10:00.001-07:00

I got to spend another night in the Book Cliffs looking for roaming buffalo...

After I found the bison, I got to play with the deer a little too.

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.

Another great trip to the Books.

Dax Likes Racks

2009-07-02T16:18:00.000-07:00

I like big racks and I cannot lie.

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!

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.

Spots

2009-05-22T13:02:00.000-07:00

This 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.

March 14th to April 17th

2009-04-18T09:33:00.000-07:00

On March 14 late in the evening I spotted a one-sided 4 point. I watched him for half an hour hoping that he would drop his antler. I finally had to move on, and snapped a photo before leaving.

Fast forward to April 17th when I found myself in the same general area. I knew it was a long shot, but I got out of the truck and walked into the sagebrush where I had seen the lop sided buck over a month earlier. Less than 100 yards from the truck in almost the exact spot I had photographed the buck I found my prize. Most likely it had fallen off right after I left the buck.

(By the way, my daughter has camera induced Turrets Syndrome, whenever a camera appears she goes totally nuts!)

Springtime in the West

2009-04-18T08:54:00.000-07:00

Despite the snow storms and freezing weather, I suppose it technically is spring. It would be nice to at least have a little true spring weather before summers heat starts blasting us. I will keep my fingers crossed.

I busted through several snow drifts to get to the top of Little Mountain NE of Vernal and arrived on the top just in time to enjoy a hole in the clouds, affording some really pretty views. The break in the weather didn't last long, and the hole quickly filled back in. I got stuck in a deep snow drift just as the second wave of the storm hit and I got to spend an hour and a half digging my truck out in a blizzard.

I made the trip looking for these little buggers. I didn't find any that day, but went back a couple weeks later and there they were. The status of the Greater Sage Grouse is still under review by the US Fish and Wildlife Service, and we are still waiting on the decision in regards to a possible endangered species listing.

Funny looking dance, eh?

It's That Time Again...

2009-02-23T09:17:00.000-08:00

It's that time again when the cabin fever has reached near terminal levels, and finally the snow starts to melt a little, and the bucks start dropping their antlers. I have been noticing a few bucks that have shed, so I spent a day out scouting for potential shed hunting areas. I have a pretty good list of spots I would like to try. I decided to do a little hiking and had a great time and even managed to luck into a couple freshly dropped brown sheds. One still had a little blood on the burr. I hope this is just the first of many more to come this spring.

I Hate Snowmobiling!

2009-01-29T15:31:00.000-08:00

First, I grew up in St. George and the only experience I ever had with a snowmobile as a kid was when I got hauled home from our Boy Scout cross-country ski trip because I was puking my guts out and too sick to ski back to the truck. I skied all the way in to the cabin where we were staying, it was all uphill, and the ski back to the trucks the next day was supposed to be awesome. Well, that night I came down with some sort of stomach flu, and didn't even get to enjoy any of the downhill on the way out.

Fast forward a few years and still, the only snowmobile experiences I can think of are unpleasant to say the least. Take for example, last Valentines day when I got stuck at least a dozen times while trying to drag out a dead elk in the dark. I didn't get home until 11:00 pm and was too exhausted to do anything nice for Tristie. This is just one in a long list of similar snowmobile experiences. And, the list goes on...

Yesterday I agreed to help a co-worker snowmobile into a remote area to set motion activated cameras for a wildlife survey. Doesn't sound much like work does it? Well, I though the same thing until 10 minutes into the ride when we had multiple machines stuck in 40" deep powder. The next 5 hours were punctuated with multiple episodes of digging, lifting, pushing and pulling snowmobiles out of deep powdery snow. I also somehow managed to tear one of the front skis off my machine when I was trying to get it out of a tight spot. We pretty much rigged the ski back on with some duct tape, bailing wire, and a little faith. It was so cold that any time my fingers touched anything metal, the metal stuck frozen to my skin (remember the tongue on the flagpole Double Dog Dare?). I limped the snow machine back to the trailer and miraculously the ski stayed on until I drove the sled up onto the trailer.

Chalk up another awesome day snowmobiling for me! I can't wait to see what the next one is like.

Blood, Kicks, and Drool

2009-01-07T08:41:00.001-08:00

I got to trap and transport 100 antelope for a transplant. It was pretty wild. I got rammed, kicked, bled on, and covered with antelope drool. However, one little gal stopped and let me give her a hug before she ran off, and it made me forget all about the blood, kicks, and drool.

NBA Bucks

2008-12-03T20:22:00.000-08:00

I saw a couple bucks the other day that reminded me of NBA players.

Tongue Out = Michael Jordan

Huge Muscular Body with Tiny Head = Karl Malone

Utah vs. BYU, RIP Cosmo

2008-11-25T22:01:00.000-08:00

After last Saturdays devastating loss to the University of Utah, poor Cosmo the cougar decided that he just couldn't go on living, and he threw himself in front of a truck.

Invasion of Privacy

2008-11-22T22:57:00.001-08:00

I couldn't help feeling a little dirty taking these pictures, but you don't see this everyday so I snapped a couple photos.

Later he stared me down with that "you pervert" look.

Wildlife Management and Common Sense

2008-11-18T18:00:00.000-08:00

(I took the first two photos, but the wolf is "borrowed" from National Geographic)

Is "wildlife management" an oxymoron? Often it is more about managing people and politics than it is about the science, the habitat, or the actual animals. After a trip to the Oregon Coast last summer and talking with a US Coast Guard officer about the over abundance of California Sea Lions and the lack of Salmon, it made me think about the similarities to managing wild horses and wolves in the Great Basin and Rocky Mountain States. I stated to wonder if there is anyone out there that has both common sense and the authority to manage wildlife? It seems like the ones with the authority often don't have any common sense (have you listened to Nancy Pelosi lately?), and those with common sense don't have the authority. I am sure that at some point the people involved in the Marine Mammals Protections Act, the Wild Free-Roaming Horse and Burro Act, and the Endangered Species Act had good intentions, but now what is the Road to Hell is paved with?

Sea Lions have few natural predators, and are big critters that do a lot of eating. A bull can weigh 850 pounds and be 8 feet long, it takes a lot of Salmon to keep an animal that big full. There was no commerical Salmon fishing season in Oregon this year. Of course the hard core environmental groups want to place all the blame for low Salmon numbers on historic overfishing, dams, and pollution, which may play a part, but the quantity of Salmon eaten by Sea Lions is rarely brought up by those groups. There were an estimated 50,000 Sea Lions in 1972 when the Marine Mammals Protection Act was passed, and current estimates are in excess of 300,000. I think Sea Lions are neat animals, and would like to see us maintain a healthy and sustainable population of Sea Lions, but do we really need 300,000, especially when some Salmon populations are on a serious decline? Who decides which species is more important than another? Is having 300,000 Sea Lions rather than 150,000 Sea Lions worth the livelihoods of all commercial salmon fishermen in the Northwest? Does it make sense to provide complete and total protection to an unmanaged species that has serious impacts on other species, the ecosystem, and local economies? Where does the common sense come in?

In the interior Western States we face many of the same issues with species like "wild" horses and burros, and wolves. "Wild" horses and burros would be more accurately described as feral. They are not native to the west, and are remnants of escaped domestic horses originally brought to this continent by the Spanish. The arid ecosystems of the west are not adapted to these large eating machines. Large native herbivores like elk, deer, and antelope are ruminants, with 4 chambered stomachs that work in synchrony with microbes to break down cellulose and maximize the nutrition extracted from the grasses, forbs, and shrubs that they eat. Horses and burros do have some mechanisms for extracting nutrition from course feeds, but they are less sophisticated and not as efficient. Because of the differences in their digestive systems, horses have to eat significantly more to extract the same amount of nutrition as a native ruminant. Horses are territorial and aggressive. They will often prevent native animals from using preferred feeding areas and water sources that are so critical in the dry west.

While I find it ecologically hard justify having any feral horses and burros on public lands, it would at least be a little easier to swallow if their populations were managed. If public land and wildlife managers could determine a population objective and manage to that objective through round-ups and/or harvest we could minimize impacts to habitats and other species and still have "wild" horses.

The BLM is proposing a removal of some wild horses near my home. If the removal is not stopped in court, receives the necessary funding, and all the stars align, the BLM will pay thousands to round horses up using a helicopter, place them in expensive temporary corrals, truck them to a holding facility, test them for diseases, hold and feed them for a month awaiting the outcome of the disease testing, and then euthanize the horses. The entire operation will cost millions of dollars and has about as much a chance of happening as I do of winning the lottery. The Federal Government at its efficient best eh? If they would issue permits to the public to allow either the live capture or harvest of a wild horse, the BLM could generate positive income and remove the problem horses. Using hunting as a wildlife management tool is the most effective, efficient, and economic method available. But due to poorly designed policy and misleading advocacy groups any significant change in wild horse and burro management is unlikely.

When the US Fish and Wildlife Service started the Wolf re-introductions in the Northern Rockies they defined a "recovered" wolf population as one containing at least 30 breeding pairs and 300 wolves. Based on the most recent estimates there are an estimated 1,545 wolves and 107 breeding pairs. The US Fish and Wildlife Service declared wolves "recovered" in the Northern Rockies and removed them from the endangered species list turning management over to the respective states where the wolves live. An environmental law firm, Earthjustice, filed suit protesting the delisting and was granted an injunction returning wolves to endangered species protection until after the final outcome of the litigation (which could/will take years). Their lawsuit is based on concerns that limited hunting of wolves could limit genetic exchange between wolf populations. There is no provision for genetic exchange in the Endangered Species Act, and the argument is questionable. Earthjustice shopped around, found a judge sympathetic to their cause, and filed the suit in that court. Now the recommendation of the top wolf researchers and the scientists employed by the Federal Agency specifically charged with using the best science available to monitor wolf populations will be thrown out, and the future of wolf management will be decided by one man that doesn't even have a background in wildlife, biology, or science. How does one man overrule the numbers, the data, the science, and the combined expertise of multiple highly educated professionals? How does this make any sense? Activist judges legislating from the bench, is this a good thing for America? This particular issue transcends the field of wildlife management, and has the potential to affect many aspects of life in our country.

The bottom line is that we need some serious reform to well intentioned environmental laws that have taken on a lives of their own. We have created several monsters in the Endangered Species Act, Marine Mammals Protection Act, Wild Horse and Burro Act, National Environmental Protection Act, etc. We can still protect wildlife, plants, and their habitats, but do it in a way that makes more sense. Sure, let's have some seals, some horses, some wolves, but lets manage these species in a way that ensures a sustainable population, and that also takes other factors into consideration and allows for some common sense. Wildlife managers have a proven track record of managing species like black bears and mountain lions in a way that ensures continued survival of the species, and allows for hunters to take some animals to maintain the populations within socially acceptable levels. The North American Conservation Model is unique, and has been proven to work time and time again. Let's let the biologists and scientists define the biological boundaries and limits, and then wildlife managers can work with the public to make additional recommendations. When common sense is part of the equation, Wildlife Management is a win win proposition. The animals and their habitats persist in perpetuity, conflicts with other species and interests are minimized, and the animals are enjoyed by multiple segments of the human population.

Drill Here Drill Now?

2008-11-10T21:45:00.000-08:00

Sky high oil prices and lots of pressure to develop domestic energy sources have really had an impact on our nation's economy. The impacts don't stop there. Oil companies have been working at a frantic pace to drill wells and extract the oil and gas available on public lands in certain areas of the west. Oil and gas reserves in parts of WY, UT, CO, and NM have been the target of massive drilling projects. The drilling process, the well pads, the access roads, the traffic, the roughnecks themselves, all have significant impacts on the local economy, the land, and the wildlife. I took some pictures from the air the other day to illustrate how just how intense the impacts from the extraction industry can be in an area.

Maybe the impacts are justified? This is a tough, and touchy subject for a lot of folks. I can understand both sides of the argument. I understand the "drill here drill now" philosophy every time I fill my car up, or pay my natural gas bill. But, I also understand the "stop the drilling" argument every time I drive through (or fly over) a gas field, or look at the downward trends for deer, antelope, and sage grouse populations. Anyhow, here are some recent photos of the affected areas.

Here is a drillig rig in the process of drilling a well. During the drilling, the site turns into a small city that bustles 24/7 until the well is complete.

Here is a compression station along a pipeline in the middle of nowhere, 2.5 hours from the nearest paved road. They spent some extra money painting it in an attempt to make it blend in with natural landscape. I get a kick out of it every time I drive by.

Redemption, Sweet Stinky Redemption!

2008-10-30T20:32:00.000-07:00

I don't think I have ever been so happy to have that "unique" antelope smell on my hands as I was this week. After what has been a disappointing fall for hunting, I finally had a little break in my crazy schedule and my bad luck. After striking out on my Idaho antelope hunt, my Utah deer and elk hunts (only hunted 1 day for each of these tags), and not even going on my sage grouse hunt, I had had my fill of tag soup for the year. I was starting to wonder if I had lost my killer instinct, if I still had what it took to put something down? Due to my work and house building schedule I had missed the opener of my WY antelope hunt and had pretty much written off taking a trip to hunt. However, this week we passed our 4-way inspection, and my Dad and I decided that we could steal a couple days and try our luck with our WY antelope tags.

The season had opened clear back on Sept. 10th, but it did run until the end of Oct. so it was still open. I talked with a friend of mine who is the BLM biologist in the area, and he said that due to the weather and time of year most of the antelope had migrated out of our hunting area, but that there might still be a few. He advised us not to be too picky if we saw a mature buck. Well that was all it took, and we loaded up my Mom and Dad's teepee trailer and headed out. After a short 5 hour drive, we set up camp in the dark, and tried to get some sleep waiting to see what the morning would bring.

First thing the next morning we spotted a group of antelope from a high ridge, they were over a mile away, but I could tell there were a couple bucks, and we made a plan to get closer. We closed the distance to about 1/3 of a mile in the truck and then started out on foot. I made my Dad belly crawl over the top of a ridge, and we made it to 204 yards undetected by the antelope. The best buck in the group was still lying down, and I think I surprised my Dad by shooting so quickly once we got into position. No more time for being picky, I was ready to have some success and I didn't mess around. I am really happy with my buck, he has great curl at the end of his horns and was a tough old bugger with some broken teeth, and a bunch of scrapes and scars on his hide.

That night we had some great foil dinners and made a plan for the next day. We had spotted another group of antelope in the afternoon after we brought my buck back to camp, but couldn't get into a good position to make a stalk and we didn't want to force it.

The next morning we saw the group again, but we couldn't get close to them from where we were. We had lunch, and regrouped, deciding to find a different access point to see if we could come in from a different direction and get close enough for a shot. Using landmarks we had committed to memory, we started into the area from the other side, and found the antelope right where we knew they would be. We did some serious belly crawling to get to about 400 yards. We were out of cover, and it was as close as we were going to get. For the second time this trip, we had pulled out a successful stalk, and my Dad was able to shoot his buck in his bed. It took a little convincing to get my Dad to shoot the right one... "Dad, you have got to trust me I have a spotting scope, and I can see that the one on the left is definitely bigger". Eventually he listened to reason and made a great shot at 400+ yards to anchor a speed goat slightly larger than mine.

This hunt was a perfect way to end my hunting for this fall. After some frustration earlier in the year, I was able to go on a hunt with my Dad, enjoy a beautiful area, and both of us notched our tags. I guess sometime you have to taste the bitter to really enjoy the sweet. I may put off washing my camo for a few more days, so I can enjoy the "unique" antelope smell of success just a little longer.

A Disappointing Great Time

2008-10-03T19:04:00.000-07:00

If I said it wasn't a great time, I would be lying. If I said I wasn't disappointed, that would also be a lie.

It all started last May, when after finding out that I had not drawn a tag in Utah, Nevada or Colorado (all states where I thought I had a decent shot at drawing), I realized that there were just a few days left to get an application in to Idaho before the deadline. I talked to my friend Mike from Oregon who is crazier about hunting than I am, and he was game to apply. We put in for deer, elk, and on a whim, applied for antelope too. We chose an antelope unit neither of us knew much about, we had heard about the area, and Mike has a friend that lives close, but as far as antelope hunting goes, we would be starting from scratch. There were over 1,500 applicants for 150 tags, and only 5 non Idaho residents drew. Mike and I were 2 of the the 5. We had beaten some daunting draw odds and I assumed we had an awesome hunt in store.

I drove 7 hours from Roosevelt to Grand View, Idaho and after checking all my tires, including the spare, I started out on the 107 mile dirt road to our unit. When I passed the sign that read "You are responsible for search and rescue charges beyond this point, travel at your own risk." I knew that this area was indeed, very remote.

Opening morning found Mike and I starting out under a gorgeous sunrise on the appropriately named "Antelope Ridge". We spotted a nice buck about an hour into the opening morning, but he gave us the slip and disappeared into the endless grasslands. We did manage to find a few antelope later in the day. There were 2 average looking bucks in the group and Mike decided that if he could get to within 500 yards he would take the shot. He sent one warning shot over the top of the bucks back, and anchored him for good on the second shot. We had to quarter and pack the antelope over 1 mile up a hill to get back to the road.

The next two days were much slower than the opening day. Antelope were hard to find. Unlike the typical Wyoming antelope where you spend your time driving around judging animals trying to find one you want to go after, we spend 2 days just trying to find an antelope, any antelope. It was discouraging. One evening just when I was about to give up, we spotted a group of antelope across a large rocky ravine. It was getting dark and I didn't have time to try a stalk that evening, but I knew where I would be first thing the next day.

The next morning at first light I started towards where I had seen the antelope the day before. I found a group of over 20 animals gathered on a hillside above a pond. There were two bucks in the group and while neither of them were huge, they looked respectable.

To get into a good shooting position, I hiked over 3 miles and dropped down to the bottom and back to the top of the rocky ravine. Just as I sneaked over the top of the hill ready to shoot, I saw that the antelope had moved and were only about 20 yards away from me. They were off like a shot, and I never did get an opportunity at either of the bucks. I followed them all day long trying multiple stalks that all were foiled by one thing or another. In the end, they disappeared into a vast yellow sea of grass.

I was out of time, and it just wasn't meant to be. I enjoyed the scenery, the other wildlife, and the company, but I do wish I had seen a few more antelope. I don't know that I will ever apply for an antelope tag for that unit again... but if I ever get a chance to chase deer or elk in the Owyhee Mountains you can count on a return visit.

The last few weeks...

2008-09-22T22:16:00.000-07:00

Things have been pretty busy, but I did manage to snap a couple photos of neat stuff. The Kokanee salmon are spawning and you can see the bright red fish swimming up Sheep Creek.

This blue grouse hen had a good looking brood and her and her youngsters were fun to watch.

I flew over the Book Cliffs last Friday looking for buffalo and noticed that the leaves are changing colors and I snapped a picture of my work cabin on Steer Ridge. I need to get out there and spend a night sometime soon. Can you see the cabin?

I leave on my Idaho antelope hunt in 2 days, so hopefully I will have some good stories and pronghorn pictures to share when I get back. I have also been working on a diatribe regarding the management (or lack thereof) of several controversial wildlife species that I hope to post soon.

High Uintas

2008-09-06T18:38:00.001-07:00

I had the opportunity to spend some time in a helicopter over the High Uintas last week looking for these guys (notice the little group of Mountain Goats).

It was a great flight (no puking), and the scenery was amazing. I did not get a backpacking trip in this summer, and I am really wishing that I had. I might still have to try to get up there this fall before it gets too cold and snowy. What beautiful country.

Gas Prices and Mule Deer

2008-08-23T22:06:00.000-07:00

I had an article published by Hunting Illustrated Magazine, and thought I would post a link to the story. The article is about energy development and how it affects mule deer.

Mule Deer and Gas Prices Article

I also wrote an article for them last year about buck hunting and mule deer population dynamics. I have a link to it as well.

Hunting and Population Dynamics Article

I have enjoyed writing for a magazine, and am currently working on another article on sea lions, wild horses and wolves. If only I put that kind of effort into writing my thesis :-)

Fall is Coming

2008-08-02T10:42:00.001-07:00

I can't wait for fall to get here! This week I spent a night on the mountain and felt that familiar chill in the late evening and early morning that means fall is on its way. I wish it was fall all year long! The bucks are looking good, and the bulls should be stripping their velvet as we speak. What an exciting time of year.

Wooly Bully

2008-07-09T11:37:00.000-07:00

I got to see some wild, free-ranging buffalo yesterday on a huge piece of awesome ground that very few people ever get to see. Often, people associate Indian Reservations with barren, hot, dry, desert, wasteland type areas, but I tell you what, the Ute Tribe in Northeastern Utah has some lands that are unreal! I was on the Hill Creek extension of the Uintah and Ouray Indian Reservation and the country was far superior than any "white man" land in the surrounding area. It was gorgeous and the tribe was a very generous host. I snapped some photos of a couple big old Wooly Bullys. What neat animals.

My Buffalo theme song "Wooly Bully"

The Good the Bad and the Ugly

2008-07-01T20:30:00.001-07:00

That pretty much sums my experience hunting deer in Idaho.

I will start with The Bad:
In 2004 the day before the opener my friend Shane and I were headed up the trail on horseback to a spot where we had seen a few decent bucks while scouting. The lead rope on the pack horse somehow got under the tail of his horse, and she didn't like it one bit. When the bucking stopped Shane was laying on the ground and had smacked his head on a rock pretty hard. I had to use super-glue the get the cuts by his eye to stay shut because they wouldn't stop bleeding. I took a photo with my digital camera so he could see what the cuts looked like. He was acting a little funny, but insisted that he was fine and wanted to keep going. He just didn't quite seem right, so I made an executive decision, and we headed back down the mountain. He had a mild concussion and did some damage to his shoulder that took months to totally heal.

(this was after we had cleaned him up and glued the cuts shut)

The Ugly:
I backpacked all my my camping gear, including a super heavy Wal-Mart 4-man tent (what was I thinking?!) into a remote area and got ready to hunt. I think I overexerted myself and after just one day of hunting I got incredibly sick. It was all I could do to hike out, and I left all my camping gear. I spent several days sicker than a dog lying in bed, then a big snowstorm hit. The forecast called for more snow and it was late October, I knew that if I didn't hurry and get back up there to pack out gear it would be spring before I could get there again. I still wasn't feeling 100%, but I did what I had to do. I had a hard time finding my camp spot as the tent had collapsed under the snow. I was holding out hope that I might just happen into a big buck, but I didn't see a single deer track in the snow. It was a long, slow hike in the wet snow, but I made it out with my stuff.

The Good:
Thankfully my Idaho deer hunting trips haven't all been bad. In 2005 and again in 2006 I had a great time hunting with Tristie's Dad and my brother-in-law. I skipped the horses and backpacking, and camped in style in a 26' trailer with a big slide-out, heater, microwave, and even a TV and DVD player. I almost felt guilty hunting in the lap of luxury... but not that guilty. Luck was on my side, and I ended up with a couple good bucks. My 2005 buck was a pig with a huge body and thick antlers. The 2006 buck wasn't as heavy, but was a little wider and was a lot of fun because my whole family was with me that year. 2007 was a slower year for bucks, but I still had a great time with Tristie's Dad, Brother, and Uncle. Her Uncle Dee might not have as fond of memories as he ended up with a broken back window in his truck (I told you we should tie the 4-wheeler down Dee). The non-resident tag might be expensive, but it's only money, and I wouldn't trade the memories for anything.

(look at the body size on that fat boy!)

(2005 buck)

(2006 buck)

I can't wait to see what Idaho has in store for me in 2008!

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

2008-06-28T18:12:00.000-07:00

So, Tristie doesn't think antelope are pretty, and, well I just flat disagree. I think they are quite handsome. I only have a few months to convince her otherwise, as I have just been informed that I drew hard-to-draw antelope tags in both Wyoming and in Idaho! You know I want to get one for the wall. I was one of only 5 non-Idaho residents to draw, out of over 1,700 applicants! Can the odds of convincing Tristie to let me put a mounted antelope head in our house be any worse? Wouldn't something like this look nice hanging in our front room?

Now you can't tell me that wouldn't look good. I have a really good photo collage that I put together a while back that has a bunch of pictures of me unintentionally making weird faces while getting my picture taken, and I threw in a couple close-ups of antelope faces from past hunts. I promise that my antelope mount will look better than these ones, and if Tristie can put up with my face every day, having a stuffed antelope head staring down at her from the wall can't be that bad.

Ka-Boom!!!

2008-06-19T15:54:00.000-07:00

If I told you that I spent the day doing a waterfowl habitat improvement project in a marsh you might think "oh, that sounds nice", but what would you think if I told you we used 1,100 pounds of explosives to do it?

We used the explosives to blow holes in the ground that will fill with water and make some new ponds for ducks to use. The shock wave from the explosion was something you have to experience to believe. It was so awesome!!!

Bear Release

2008-05-31T20:40:00.000-07:00

These black bears were trapped as cubs last summer and fall after getting into trouble. They had been abandoned by their mothers and ended up in dumpsters, camp trailers, neighborhoods, etc. I actually caught one of them that had climbed a telephone pole south of Vernal last October.

These cubs would not have survived the winter on their own, so they were sent to a rehabilitation center in Boise, Idaho where they spent the winter. We picked them up yesterday, and I released them in the Book Cliffs today. I was able to get permission to take my whole family with me, so the wife and kids could watch the bear release. It was a lot of fun, and a neat experience for the kids to see bears so close up.

The bears were stiff and disoriented from being in a cage for over 24 hours. They didn't seem to want to leave the barrel, so I had to help them out. They looked like they had had a little too much to drink, but after a few stumbles, they loosened up and took off.

Just Getting Started

2008-05-29T21:28:00.000-07:00

The deer are just getting started growing their antlers, and some, like this buck, have a better start than others. Fluctuations in hormone levels trigger the annual growth and eventual shedding of antlers. The amount of calcium and phosphorous that deer and elk have to consume, absorb, and deposit to grow a complete set of antlers in a relatively short period of time each year is amazing to me. I hope to find this guy again this fall to see what the finished product looks like.

Blonde with Blue Streaks

2008-05-21T21:54:00.000-07:00

We trapped this 1.5 year old black bear that had been raiding dumpsters and garbage cans and didn't show any fear of humans. We caught him, painted him blue, hauled him to a new spot really far from any people, and let him go. We marked him with a temporary paint so could recognize him if he returns to civilization and starts causing problems again. It is too bad when young bears learn bad habits. I hope we don't ever see him again, but it was fun to get a peak up close. He is a real neat looking bear with pretty, almost blonde fur.

Tracks

2008-05-20T18:09:00.000-07:00

I was working in neat and really remote place called Rathole Ridge the other day and found these tracks. The first two sets of pictures are of a black bear track, then a coyote track.

This one is way too big to be a coyote, at 4.5"-5" this is probably a wolf. I found these tracks a couple of winters ago in Northern Utah.

Food Glorious Food

2008-05-18T17:37:00.000-07:00

My passion for the outdoors has few rivals, one of them being good food. I thought I would show some of the food that I have prepared, and some of the food that I love most. I hope you aren't on a diet.

This recent original creation was jokingly dubbed "Chocolate Thunder from Down Under ", but I might have to change the name because it makes Tristie think of a black Australian male stripper.

I love pumpkin pie cake. You gotta try this, but keep your Tums handy.

The Double Hunger Buster from a restaurant in St. Maries Idaho, contains four, 1/3 pound patties with cheese, bacon, and ham. What an awesome burger! I put it the whole thing down without hesitation.

You just can't beat fresh made European bread and queso manchego semi-curado. These are my favorite foods from Spain.

Baked ziti made with generous amounts of fresh mozzarella, ricotta cheese, homemade Italian sausage meatballs, fresh basil, dash of red pepper flake, plenty of garlic, and lots of love. Inspired by Livia Soprano.

Western classic, dutch oven potatoes with bacon and extra cheese. The smaller foil-lined oven in the background is full of chocolate cherry cola cobbler.

Good old Sunday dinner, roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and rolls. Tristie is responsible for the vegetable looking stuff.

Homemade venison tamales, these babies steamed up nicely.

Stuffed mushrooms with Italian sausage, cream cheese, onion, and garlic. Notice the copious amount of real melted butter in the bottom of the cast iron skillet.

Grandma Nola taught me how to make her homemade rolls. Perfect with Thanksgiving dinner.

My own Alfredo sauce variant that uses fresh spinach, sun-dried tomatoes, and pancheta. The next photo shows one of the many applications for this sauce.

Another original recipe, chicken breast stuffed with Italian sausage, fresh spinach, and Romano cheese, rolled in seasoned flour, pan seared, then baked. Served with my sun-dried tomato, pancheta Alfredo sauce.

I hope I made you all hungry. I take requests, so come out to Roosevelt to visit!

Two Pair, Jokers over Jakes

2008-05-09T18:08:00.000-07:00

I had a wild week that involved seeing my Brother and Sis-in-Law Graduate, attending my cousin's baby blessing, visiting both my grandmothers in nursing homes, mowing both of my grandma M's lawns (one in Bountiful and one in Santa Clara), shooting chislers, scouting for and hunting turkeys, and a 6 hour drive home in a convertible. It was awesome! My Dad and I both got our birds within 5 minutes of each other in some really neat country right as it started to rain. What a wild week, I had a great time, and am glad to be home with my family again.

Redemption

2008-05-01T14:38:00.000-07:00

So last week I found a really dinky set of elk sheds. Let's just say that I had a much better day this week. I found more elk sheds than I could carry. A heavy pack never felt so good. This shed was a pretty neat little 7 point.

Out and About

2008-04-26T20:01:00.000-07:00

I set a new personal record finding elk antlers this week. Unfortunately, it is my record for the smallest matched elk set I have ever found. I put a few miles on the old boots to find these girly-man sized sheds, but it is still better than getting skunked.

I also spent a couple nights this week looking for black-footed ferrets. It makes for a very very long night when you aren't seeing anything. Finally, on Friday night, one of my coworkers saw and trapped a ferret, and I figured I better get my photo with the little endangered weasel. I had been spotlighting all night and this photo was taken at 5:01 am, you can pretty much tell from the look on my face.

Love/Hate Relationship

2008-04-23T18:29:00.000-07:00

Before I started working for the Fish and Game the idea of spending lots of time in airplanes and helicopters looking for animals and seeing the country from the air sounded awesome! How cool to be able to see everything from above, right?

Fast forward to the present, and I would rather get a cavity drilled sans nitrous than fly in a plane or helicopter. More than once while flying I have thought about how much better I would feel if I just opened the door and jumped out. That thought passed through my mind again last Tuesday morning while counting antelope, just before I did my best to fill the barf bag.

I love seeing the lay of the land from the air, it gives you a perspective of the landscape you just can't get from the ground. I have seen things from the air that many people will never be able to see. Every once in a while in between the bouts of nausea, Dramamine induced dizziness and the suite of nasty side effects from the Scopolamine, I absolutely love being able to take it all in from the sky.

Hardware Ranch Utah, can you see all the elk?

Zoomed in on the computer in Paint, and counted all the dots to make an even 500 elk in Rich County, Utah. There was no way I was going to get an accurate count from a moving airplane. You gotta love digital cameras.

Sometimes the man-made scenery isn't half bad from the air either.

To List, or Not to List? That is the Question

2008-04-17T18:11:00.000-07:00

This is a Greater Sage Grouse male strutting. Male birds congregate on traditional strutting grounds (called a lek) every spring and do this mating display to attract potential mates. Sage Grouse live in the western US in areas with lots of sagebrush. Due to factors like weeds, predators, poor cattle grazing practices, and increased oil and gas development in sage grouse habitats their populations are declining. There is legal petition being reviewed by the federal government to list the Greater Sage Grouse as an endangered species. If these birds are listed, it will have huge impacts on what activities can take place on our federal lands in the west. Sage grouse could be to cattle grazing and energy extraction what the spotted owl was to logging in the Pacific Northwest. There is a huge list of potential negative impacts to rural economies.

If listing sage grouse as en endangered species led to more responsible energy extraction practices and improved livestock grazing techniques, I think it could be a good thing. However, the track record of the Endangered Species Act and the environmental groups that use it as a tool to promote their own agendas is not encouraging. There are many extreme environmental groups with anti-cattle, anti-oil and gas, anti-use of any kind agendas that would file numerous lawsuits and protests against any activity they have a moral objection to. These groups suffer from a sever case of environmental extremist tunnel vision, and are far more interested in stopping livestock grazing on public grounds that they are in actually saving sage grouse. They will use the Greater Sage Grouse, like they have other endangered species, as a tool to stop activities they disagree with. There is strong evidence that properly managed cattle grazing and healthy sage grouse populations are compatible, but these groups will not allow any challenges to their rigid anti-cow dogmas.

The official decision from the US Fish and Wildlife Service is expected in December.

My Little Babe

2008-04-13T20:32:00.000-07:00

My Little Babe loves to get right in the middle of the action when it comes to hunting. I guess taking her along since she was just a toddler has paid off. I shot a couple grouse in Logan Canyon with her when she was 2 years old. I was cleaning the birds and she said "look Dad you have sauce on your hands".

She graduated from this naivety, to a morbid sense of curiosity that led to a routine of poking and prodding of all the dead animals I bring home. Both her and her brother started to cry when I cut the tongue out of my 2006 Idaho deer. I removed the tongue so it wouldn't be hanging out in the photos, but the kids were so upset because they had been looking forward to poking the deer in the eye and tongue with a stick since the year before. Despite the disappointment, Preslie still had me take a couple photos together with her and the deer, and even made me take one of just her with the buck.

Preslie is a good little carnivore, and loves to eat wild game. She devours deer and elk steak and usually eats more than Tristie. Preslie has eaten deer, elk, pheasant, forest grouse, wild turkey, sage grouse, and loves trout. She yells at me if I try to practice "catch and release" fishing, and can't wait to get home and eat all the fish she catches. While I was field dressing a pheasant under her watch, she saw the breast and said "look at all the yummy meat Dad". Last fall when I brought home my Utah deer Preslie was so excited to help me cut up the meat. She sat with me at the table the whole time and even had her own knife to help. I had to take the knife away from her out of fear for both our safety, but she made me promise that I would let her butcher my deer all by herself when she is 7 years old. Sounds like a good deal to me. The funny thing is that her younger brother named "Hunter" doesn't seem nearly as interested in hunting or fishing. Maybe when he gets older?

She can't wait until she is 12 and gets to hunt big game for herself. I am almost as excited as she is. It is great to have a hunting buddy like my Little Babe.

Marty Moose

2008-04-13T20:02:00.001-07:00

A coworker raised this baby moose after his mother was hit by a car. He fed him calf formula, took him for walks, and taught him which plants he should eat to help wean him. The moose really got attached and acted a lot more like a dog than a moose. When it was time to release him into the wild we were a little worried that his affinity for humans might cause problems. We released him on a large private ranch where he would have limited contact with people and moose hunters. Some of the guys hunting deer and elk on the ranch had interesting encounters when out of nowhere a moose would walk right up to them in the woods. One of the guides was pretty scared and thought he was being attacked when Marty came to sniff his backpack. Thankfully, ol' Marty the Moose never did cause any serious problems, and has integrated back into the wild.

Conservation Hero and Legend

2008-04-07T21:33:00.001-07:00

Theodore Roosevelt was one of the original US conservationists. From preserving the first National Park to establishing the Forest Service and National Wildlife Refuge system he has always held wild creatures and the places they call home in high regard. Roosevelt was an avid hunter and outdoorsman, and an advocate for what he called "the strenuous life" which included spending time hunting in the wild to develop character and substance. He founded the Boone and Crockett Club a prominent international organization dedicated to wildlife conservation and hunting. Theodore Roosevelt, a great American president and champion of wildlife conservation.

Calcium + Phosphorus = Big Excitement

2008-04-07T13:51:00.000-07:00

Who would think that finding a piece of calcium and phosphorous could get somebody so excited? There is just something about coming around a corner, or glancing under a bush and catching a glimpse of that familiar shape that makes your heart start beating. I always mean to take pictures before I pick them up, but usually get too caught up in the moment and forget. I do remember on occasion, but 9 times out of 10 it doesn't cross my mind until I have already picked it up.

The other day while conducting fawn mortality surveys I happened on a few of these and it made my day.