2019 hunt journal, UT, WY, and MT

Out of the woods and time for some updates:

Day 1: Monday
I worked from home Monday and then headed up to the trailhead around mid-afternoon. The hike is 6.3 miles back to where I wanted to camp with a lot of up and down to it. I made it to camp around 5:30 and got things unloaded and set up. I wanted to get in an evening glassing session and was able to climb the north ridge of the canyon to class some upper pockets, one deep draw, and the opposite side of the canyon. There weren't many deer on the north side. I spotted a 3 pt some smaller bucks, and a few does. I turned my glass to the south side of the canyon and spotted 2 nice bucks that came out of an aspen stand just before last light. They were a good 1.5 to 2 miles away and I couldn't tell much about them other than they were good bucks. I spotted one bull down off the back side of the north ridge into another drainage and heard a few bugles. That area is mostly private and all I could hunt as far as elk go are cows.

A pleasant surprise this trip was some cell coverage so I could talk with my wife and kids. First time that has happened. Might be the new phone, or maybe just some improved coverage. Made being away from home and by myself not too bad.

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Day 2 (Tuesday): Woke up to some bugles down in the hole to the east of me. Being around elk doing their thing was one of the main reasons I wanted to try the muzzleloader deer hunt. The dates line up with the elk rut and I just wanted to be in the woods, hear the elk, and see them being elk.

Headed back up the north ridge for another round of glassing. Very few deer this morning. Spotted a small buck and a doe in the large draw. Glassed another two miles to the NE on a mountain face and there were deer on it, but they all seemed to be alert, looking up toward the head of that basin, and/or trotting away. Another trailhead comes in over there and that spot gets more pressure. I think some others were scouting and pushing some deer around. I glassed back to the south side of the canyon where I had seen the bigger bucks the evening before. Spotted a group of three bucks, two of which looked decent. These bucks were about 600 yards east, and a few draws over from where I had seen the two bucks the night before. Also spotted some doe groups.

I went back to camp and made a decent meal, if you can call Mountain House that. This ended up being the only meal I actually cooked. Everything else was bagel sandwiches, bars, snack type stuff. After breakfast I made a water run to a spring about a quarter mile from camp. Filled a 10 liter dramadary pack. I always appreciate that backcountry camping forces you to slow down. I use a steripen, so one bottle at a time I squatted down to the spring, filled the bottle, stood, sterilized, dumped, and repeated.

Back at camp I took it easy. I packed in a Louis Lamour and did some reading. Took a mountain nap (also a favorite), and prepped my things for the opener on Wednesday.

That evening I went up on the south rim of the canyon. I enjoyed a snack and then I glassed several places on that side, including where I had seen the two bucks on Monday night, hoping to get a better look at them. All that showed over there were does. I picked out a few more does and fawns and a small 3x4 in a side canyon. Glassing back across to the north ridge, I didn't see much. Finally, at just about last light I spotted a buck in the first pocket near camp. He looked decent, but was at least a mile away in fading light. I raced down closer to camp, up on a small nob and picked him out. All I could tell was he was a decent buck, maybe a 23" deer. Based on what I was seeing and his proximity to camp, I would be happy to take him in the morning.

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Day 3 (Wednesday): Opening day! I got up plenty early, not needing an alarm. As soon as I pulled my earplugs out, there were bulls bugling down in the hole behind camp. I dressed, pulled things together, then headed back to the south to get up on that nob. I wanted to look back to the north ridge to see if I could spot any deer moving in the area I had spotted the buck the night before. Then, based on the wind, I could maybe make a play. I got up on the nob and set up the tripod and binos in the dark. In the gray light, I could make out the white butts of a few deer moving up that pocket. As I was taking down my tripod, I heard gravel crunch on the trail behind me. I turned and there was another hunter just coming in from the south onto that nob. I flagged him down. He had hoped to climb up that north ridge, but once he understood I was planning on making a move on some deer right there, he gave me the courtesy of giving it a try. I thanked him, got my stuff together and headed that way.

I have to say, I made a killer stalk on those deer. I was quiet, stepping over each little branch and piece of brush. I came out of a small stand of aspens and inched my way to where I could see more of the pocket. It was now shooting light. I got right on top of those deer, five does and fawns. No buck to be seen. I backed out without bumping the deer.

This whole time the elk had been talking down in that hole. With no great deer prospects, my mind turned to elk. I got to a point where I could look down into a spot in that bowl and I saw a lone bull by a small water hole. I decided I was going in there.

Now, for perspective, I call this place a hole. A hell hole is most accurate. This is the top of a deep, nasty canyon, that is almost all private, with little inlays of public. It just so happens that this hole is a chunk of forest service. I call it a hell hole because it is walled with 1,000 ft steep faces on almost every side. The most accessible entry point is a 700 ft drop and not quite as steep, but will still have you sweating and cursing going and coming. I had never gone into there but the music of elk lured me in like a siren song.
 
Day 3 (cont.): I drop into the hole, and get near the bottom. I watch that 5 pt move up the ridge behind the water hole and into the timber. I can hear another bull bugling farther the the east, another ridge or two into the hole. I loop to the north, moving very slowly around the bowl. It is thick. Mostly with this terrible brush. I try to follow any semblance of elk trails I can find, but elk can step over and through thing that I can't. I get around the bowl, and push through brush and scrub aspens, finally getting on top of the first ridge. The bull is still bugling, to my east. I move down the ridge maybe 50 yards and hear an animal blowing at me. I have had hundreds of deer blow at me, and this wasn't a deer. I haven't had elk blow at me, but I think that is what this was. It sounded totally different from a deer, just like a bigger animal. I back up the ridge and get to a spot where I can see through the timber to the next ridge to the east. I see elk. About a dozen cows and calves are out in an open spot. I range them for perspective and am shocked to realize they are only about 350 yards away from me. I decide to move back to my south, up the ridge, try to drop into that next draw, and then maybe up the ridge or somehow get in range. I move up the ridge and am close to dropping over the side when I hear the blowing again, this time closer. But it is so thick I can't see the critter. I decide to keep going. I get to a point where I can see the spot the elk had been and there are no elk. I figure whatever was blowing at me got their attention and they moved off. However, the herd bull keeps sounding off, so I know they are within 400 yards of me, just a little farther down that next ridge. I drop into the head of that next draw and find an elk paradise.

There is a small spring in there and the place reeks of elk. The ground is trampled. I think elk have been living in this spot all summer. It is hard to get into and even harder to get out of, and with its proximity to private, I think it gets ignored, or scares people away. I check out the sign and find a small seep about 80 ft up off the bottom of the draw, coming out of the hillside. The elk have made a major wallow here. (Marked that spot on OnX). The elk had been there within the last 30 minutes.

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Day 3 (cont.): I am hungry and thirsty at this point, and feel like I need to let the elk settle down a bit and for the winds to become a little more consistent. I post up just past the wallow and have some breakfast (Green Belly bars, first time, and tasty). I drink some water and feel better. That bull keeps sounding off and I can hear him pushing cows around. The wind begins to get a little better. Instead of drifting straight down the draw, it begins to drift a little more toward the west. I move about 100 yards closer to the commotion and sit down. I am in a fairly open spot, with timber just above me, and a fairly open aspen stand coming down about 100 yards in front of me that reaches the small creek. I swear it sounds like that bull is pushing the group to me. I see movement in the aspens and pull up the glass. I spot a cow elk head, then more movement. Holy crap! They are coming my way. I already had my muzzleloader out of the gunbearer. I place a primer and prop the gun up on my knee. I calf moves into an opening, then a cow moves in above, but still just behind her. I @#)(# the hammer. The calf moves off, I settle the crosshairs and squeeze. Boom, cloud of smoke! The cow takes two steps and is out of view. The other elk mill around in confusion. I reload and the elk move up the hill and out of sight. I sit tight for about five minutes and listen. The bull sounds off again 400 yards down the ridge, working his herd.

Reloaded, I move down toward where the cow was when I shot. At thirty yards, I see her. Her head is up, then down, then up. I sit down, settle the crosshairs on her neck and fire. She is down. I wait a few minutes to make sure she is gone. I move up and she is beautiful. Many of you understand this. Taking a life has become more and more serious to me. I take time to thank her, offer a prayer of thanks, and simply soak it in. Did I tear up? Yup. Just me, by myself, in this beautiful place with an animal that will feed my family, and feed my soul with memories. Hunting is the strange paradox. You kill the thing you love, you thank it for its life. It is a deep feeling.

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Day 3 (cont.): I spend the next two hours breaking her down and loading the meat into three game bags. One new thing for this trip was a chunk of Tyvek to place the meat on. Worked great and kept things clean. She was on a bit of a slope and she made me earn it getting that meat off. I set out a quick InReach to a good friend letting him know I was successful. He replied that he was coming in to help me get her out! He is just that kind of guy. Turns out he recruited another buddy of ours. I think both wanted to be part of the experience. Having archery elk tags of their own, and bailing on work might have had something to do with it as well.

I also sent a quick note to my wife letting her know that we had elk meat again.

I took the first load out. That 700 ft grind up and out of there was not pleasant, definite type 2 fun. But, so it goes and so it should be. I got that bag hung at camp, dumped most of my pack and ate some lunch. By this point, my two friends were about 45 minutes out (they were hiking fast). I just waited for them. I went back up on that little nob and glassed down into the hole. I spotted what looked like a cow, which came out of the timber on that same ridge where I had first spotted the group. My buddies arrived and congratulations were shared and stories told. I was shocked when they offered to pack the two remaining bags all the way back out, not just to camp. That would give me a chance to keep hunting a bit longer. I told them about the cow I had seen and where I thought the elk were. I loaded up my muzzleloader and kill kit and some more game bags and we went back in. I had another cow tag.

Long story short, we had an awesome evening. The elk I thought was a cow turned out to be a small raghorn, but we were in the perfect spot. He got as close as 70 yards. The other bull switched on again as it got later and we thought they might be in that spot with the wallow. They weren't. They were up on top of another small ridge in some thick stuff. We didn't want to bump them. My two buddies loaded up those other two bags of meat and we decided to go straight up the wall, rather than loop back around and up the shorter climb to camp. This would put them on the trail and save them about a mile and a half, and a few other hills. If you are going to be stupid, then you better be tough. It took about an hour to climb up that face, and it got pretty bad once we got into timber and brush. I couldn't believe these guys would come in there and do that. I thanked them several times and backstrap payment will be made.

We got to the top, had some snacks, then they turned north and I turned back south. Those guys did about 15 miles in under 8 hours, and half of it with heavy packs. Don't know what I did to deserve friends like that.

I got back to the tent in the dark, ate a bit, drank a bunch, and went to sleep. That bull bugled a few more times before I drifted off.
 
Day 4 (Thursday): I wake up early on Thursday and have deer on the mind. Somehow having gotten one cow, I feel a little less pressure. I climb the north ridge. I pass a small 2 pt right out of camp. Get up on the ridge and check the next pocket. There is a slightly larger 2 pt. I move to the next big draw and can only find a doe. I move farther up and start glassing that large basin. There are two draws on my side of it. The first hold a few does and fawns, but no bucks. I glass for another 40 minutes and am getting ready to head back to the top of the ridge to glass off the back side and work my way back to camp. I take one last hard look up the draw and spot a decent buck in a small aspen stand. I decide he is good enough. He is about 900 yards away. It looks like I can sidehill it toward him, dropping below his line of sight, and then put a large bush between me and him. I figure if I can get to that bush he will be in range.

Sidehilling sort of always stinks. But in this spot, it is extra special. You are fighting that 2.5 ft high brush that grows horizontally out of the hillside and basically just trips you over and over again. I get to the rise just before the bush and drop my pack and move forward with trekking poles (improvised shooting sticks) and my gun. I get to the bush. I can't see the buck, be there are quite a few scrub aspens over where he was and he could be anywhere. I range it. I am still close to 400 yards away from where he was. So much for being in range.

I decide to move up and use the quickly disappearing shade. I move up 100 yards, then another 100 yards. I am now about 200 yards from the aspen patch and can see about 50% of it. I glass it hard but can't turn him up. I move up another 50 yards and am now in comfortable range, but no deer. I tell myself he is holding tight. I glass and glass, nothing. I decide WTH, I move up with abandon, expecting him to jump up. He doesn't. He wins, I lose, and I retreat back to my things, load up and climb to the top of the ridge. I somehow have data service up there and I video chat with the family. Talking to my oldest (8yr) daughter my wheels start spinning. Why would I should a small deer way back here when I could shoot the same type of deer in a blind with her or one of my other kids closer to home. We have a decent little spot. After the call, I decide to pack it up and head out. I had already been blessed with a great cow. I thought about dumping back in that hole to try to fill the other tag, but decide against it. I'll be back in there next weekend on the general rifle hunt. If we get into elk again, I'll shoot the first one I can, bull or cow.

Camp is broken down and I am on the trail around 12:15. 2.5 hours later I am at the car, unloaded and headed home. It is weird to drive through a city again after 4 days by myself with almost no one around.

I love surprising my family. They thought I was coming home Friday night. I grab some pizza on the way home. When the garage door opens, the van is gone, so the family is elsewhere. I clean up a bit, eat way too much pizza, and send my wife a text telling her I took care of dinner. The family gets home and it is all the good stuff. I made the right call coming out a day early.
 
Today my oldest and I went into a spot on some public about 25 minutes from home. There are quite a few deer there, but you rarely see anything bigger than a 2 pt. If a deer gets older in there, he can live out his days in the oak brush jungle and you would never see him. We set up a blind on a spot where some trails come together. There was deer and turkey sign. We will let it sit, go check the trail cam on Sunday after church, then decide if we want to hunt it Monday morning.

I know my oldest is ready for the experience, including being there when we kill a deer or a turkey. My next is borderline, but she is up for it. My little boy probably can't sit still for more than 3 minutes, let alone be quiet, but I think I will still try. I am hoping I can get them each in on at least a turkey kill. Looking forward to next week.

Weather is moving in today. It is calling for up to a foot where I just was all week, and where we want to go next weekend. We will see how it goes. I guess I better go mow my lawn...
 
Congratulations. Nothing better then breaking the ice early and getting some meat in the freezer and getting back to your family. I have a 4 and 2 year old time is precious hope you have success with your daughter.
 
So my oldest and I headed back to the blind this morning. The turkeys had been showing up on camera around 10:30 and sometimes lingering around until as late as 1:00. We left the house about 8:30, fought traffic on I15, and made it to our trailhead. I told my daughter that we knew the turkeys were showing up at our spot around 10:00, but we didn't know where they were right now and to keep her eyes open in case we saw them.

We walked slow and quiet. We crept through a trail in the oakbrush that opens into a grassy area. This is where we saw the turkeys last night. I was in front, and as we got to where we could just see the grassy opening, I saw several turkey heads. I whispered to her, "There are turkeys right there!" And I raised the shotgun. I have three tags,a nd two birds were lined up nicely around 20 yards. I fired, those two birds rolled and the rest scattered. We stepped out into the opening, but the birds were all too far for any more chances.

We checked out the two birds, both young of the year, tender, and soon to be quite tasty. This was the first time my daughter had been part of something being killed besides fish. She totally took it in stride and was pretty fascinated. She was especially entertained by the birds flapping around even after they were dead.

We punched tags, stashed those birds, and quickly went to the blind. We were thinking we might be able to call those birds back together or maybe see another flock. We could hear the birds calling to each other and we joined in. We heard some calls close, but those birds never showed themselves again. We hung out, watched a little YouTube (wireless headphones you can share are sweet for passing the time in the blind). Around 10:30 I heard some birds closer. I looked to our southwest and saw a flock cresting a hill coming toward us about 75 yards away. I pointed them out to my daughter and slid the shotgun into position. I figured they would follow the brushline and I would get about a 40 yard shot. However, those birds had other ideas and the ducked into a little spot in the brush around 60 yards away. They had no idea we were there, they were just doing their thing.

We hung out a little longer, then got out of the blind, went and checked out where those birds went in, then went up and got our birds and took a few pics. She is hooked and it was a pretty great couple of hours.

I think these two birds are destined for schnitzel.

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