Nice vs. Nasty

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

Spot

Stalk

Shot

Success

Hard at Work

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

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

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.