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2024 - More than we deserved

Big Fin

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2024 was one of our best seasons ever. Some years you work your butt off, and you think you deserved more. Some years, it just falls in your lap, and you almost feel guilty for how well it worked out relative to the effort expended. Such was 2024.

A few have asked about our season. I was on the road since August 7 and got home last night from a Wyoming elk hunt with my niece. Add in a bout of some unknown ailment in Arizona, followed by ten days of pneumonia just prior to Christmas and I’ve had plenty to keep me busy in the last 147 days of 2024.

Most of you have read of the first trip of the season, a hunt in the Mackenzie Mountains for Dall Sheep and Mountain Caribou. A pair of 10 year-old sheep were taken, along with an 8 year-old caribou. That long-winded story is at this link – https://www.hunttalk.com/threads/bury-me-in-the-mackenzie-mountains.325855/

I got home, washed some clothes, and headed to Oregon to join Matthew for his pronghorn tag that he somehow drew in the random draw. Scott Jones joined us and provided his predictable comfortable camp. Tons of antelope, but nothing that seemed over 2.5 years old. After Jace (camera guy) left for a family event, I filmed Matthew shooting the largest buck we saw, aged at 2.5 by Matson’s Lab.

While we were in Oregon, Marcus, Kara, and three friends loaded their van and headed to Alaska for OTC caribou. They returned with five bulls and a really cool story filmed only on iPhones, a first for us.

A couple days home had me and Michael loaded up and headed to Salt Lake to pick up Matthew for his rifle elk hunt in Arizona. On the last evening of a very boring hunt, a bull followed his cows to our setup over a waterhole. A very nice 8.5 year-old bull ended up getting a ride home.

Then came the longest break of the season, where I had about a week in Montana and completely messed up my archery elk hunting opportunities. More on that later.

We were lucky to have a great sweepstakes winner from Idaho ask to do an OTC Idaho rifle elk tag in a highly pressured unit. Steve was a great camp mate and on the last full day of hunting, he took his first bull elk. One of the highlights of my season.

Coming home from Idaho, I had a chance to hunt my Montana pronghorn tag for three days. A unit with limited public land, I might have gambled by going after opening weekend. Regardless, it was a ton of fun.

Going straight from the pronghorn hunt, Jace and I spent a day chasing elk in a limited entry unit. One problem with seeing a very good bull before season is that you might pass a lot of “almost very good bulls” in hopes of finding the one you saw while scouting. Oh well, I had some other days planned to continue that hunting that bull once the snow came.

A few days at home and Marcus and I were packed and loaded to help Joel Webster from TRCP on his Nevada elk hunt. We spent the first two days filming conservation content about feral horses, cheat grass, conifer encroachment, public land transfer, and after that was done, starting scouting for elk. Joel took a great bull three days later, allowing us to get home a few days early and giving me the last two days of Montana pronghorn season.

The final two days of Montana pronghorn found most of the bucks having shed their horns. Trying to self-film highly spooked pronghorn is far harder than it seems it should be. At least for me. The first tag of the year where our stunning good luck seemed to wane.

Back home for two days was enough to get slightly caught up. Jace and I headed to Wyoming for whitetail on a second-choice deer tag. Hardly any public land in this area, so I wasn’t inclined to be picky; anything 3.5 years or older was getting shot at. Haven’t got the age reports back for the later hunts, but I suspect this will age to be a 4.5+ year-old buck, broken, yet further proof that this was our lucky year.

From that it was to return for my Montana elk tag with a rifle. Having screwed up archery season, passed some chances early in the season, I was again filming myself. Four days of seeing bulls far off, mostly on the boundary of public-private, resulted in my tag still unpunched as I left for my niece’s wedding the weekend before Thanksgiving.

Home from the wedding and having committed to not miss turkey day, I spend two days searching for elk, which was mostly trying to keep the wind from blowing me off the mountain. I came home to eat a bunch of turkey and pie, then spent the last three days filming myself and my futility of trying to kill this nice bull I knew was around. I passed a few mature bucks, feeling sorry for the state of deer in Montana, preferring to focus on elk. Season ended with that nice bull bedded within 20 yards of the unfenced boundary and me not comfortable with the high risk he’d escape to his favorite spots on private if I did hit him from what would be a 400-ish yard shot. Oh well, even with the tag unpunched it was lots of fun on those days of rifle elk hunting, seeing bulls every day.

One day home and Marcus and I boarded a plane to Arizona for an easy-to-draw Coues deer tag. I ended up with whatever bug had been going around the office. One day of barely hunting had me wishing I’d turned the tag back in. On Day 2 Marcus doubted if I should leave bed, given how I looked. I decided to try until noon. It didn’t take that long. Twenty minutes after shooting light I was hanging a tag on the best of my three rifle Coues deer. I spent the next three days laying in a hotel bed while Marcus filmed b-roll and did some quail hunting. A deer I surely didn't deserve, but what's a guy to do when they seem to appear from nowhere.

I recovered from the Arizona bug just in time to head to Vegas to do four days of volunteer work for RMEF at Hunter and Outdoor Christmas, an event they host in conjunction with the NFR. The normal mob of “less than clean” humanity that Vegas is known for. The morning we were headed to the airport to fly home, I could tell something was wrong. I masked up, hoping to not spread to anyone else on the plane. That night found me with a temp of 102.6F and the next morning had me at the doc taking chest X-rays for what was bacterial pneumonia. Seven days in bed, coughing my lungs out and taking meds really messed up my plan to get caught up at the office before Christmas.

The day after Christmas, my niece, Sidney, and her husband showed up for her Wyoming elk hunt. Her being an avid hunter, I promised her an elk hunt for her high school graduation present. It took six years to draw. In the interim, she graduated college, became a teacher, and got married. Her only window from work was Christmas to New Years. So, that’s what we applied for. With one day left to hunt, she shot a nice six-point bull, capping off a season that was far better than we deserved.

I feel grateful that Mrs. Fin tolerates my absence and that the crew can keep things afloat while I’m mostly absent. The bout with pneumonia has me far more tired than any season we’ve ever had, but some have told me that might be a result of recently turning 60.

A few things stuck with me this season. 36 nights in my GoFastCamper showed me some uses and conditions I didn’t think I’d use it for. I realized how much fun I have filming myself and going at my own pace. It usually doesn’t result in a punched tag, but I’m just fine with that. I went to some new places that I hope to return someday. I realized how much I love watching November whitetails in the creek bottoms. It reinforced how much it means to hunt with my family members. And mostly, it showed me that some of the most fun hunts can be those OTC, General, or second-choice tags.

I hope you all had remarkable seasons. Best wishes in 2025. I hope your mailboxes are filled with tags by the time the draws are completed in June. Thanks for following along and supporting our content.

Now, to start recording all of the content in my notebooks related to attacks on public land, restrictions on conservation easements, public land access projects, stupid legislation, and the pile of other things Marcus and I have outlined while sitting atop mountains waiting for elk to appear.
 
2024 was one of our best seasons ever. Some years you work your butt off, and you think you deserved more. Some years, it just falls in your lap, and you almost feel guilty for how well it worked out relative to the effort expended. Such was 2024.

A few have asked about our season. I was on the road since August 7 and got home last night from a Wyoming elk hunt with my niece. Add in a bout of some unknown ailment in Arizona, followed by ten days of pneumonia just prior to Christmas and I’ve had plenty to keep me busy in the last 147 days of 2024.

Most of you have read of the first trip of the season, a hunt in the Mackenzie Mountains for Dall Sheep and Mountain Caribou. A pair of 10 year-old sheep were taken, along with an 8 year-old caribou. That long-winded story is at this link – https://www.hunttalk.com/threads/bury-me-in-the-mackenzie-mountains.325855/

I got home, washed some clothes, and headed to Oregon to join Matthew for his pronghorn tag that he somehow drew in the random draw. Scott Jones joined us and provided his predictable comfortable camp. Tons of antelope, but nothing that seemed over 2.5 years old. After Jace (camera guy) left for a family event, I filmed Matthew shooting the largest buck we saw, aged at 2.5 by Matson’s Lab.

While we were in Oregon, Marcus, Kara, and three friends loaded their van and headed to Alaska for OTC caribou. They returned with five bulls and a really cool story filmed only on iPhones, a first for us.

A couple days home had me and Michael loaded up and headed to Salt Lake to pick up Matthew for his rifle elk hunt in Arizona. On the last evening of a very boring hunt, a bull followed his cows to our setup over a waterhole. A very nice 8.5 year-old bull ended up getting a ride home.

Then came the longest break of the season, where I had about a week in Montana and completely messed up my archery elk hunting opportunities. More on that later.

We were lucky to have a great sweepstakes winner from Idaho ask to do an OTC Idaho rifle elk tag in a highly pressured unit. Steve was a great camp mate and on the last full day of hunting, he took his first bull elk. One of the highlights of my season.

Coming home from Idaho, I had a chance to hunt my Montana pronghorn tag for three days. A unit with limited public land, I might have gambled by going after opening weekend. Regardless, it was a ton of fun.

Going straight from the pronghorn hunt, Jace and I spent a day chasing elk in a limited entry unit. One problem with seeing a very good bull before season is that you might pass a lot of “almost very good bulls” in hopes of finding the one you saw while scouting. Oh well, I had some other days planned to continue that hunting that bull once the snow came.

A few days at home and Marcus and I were packed and loaded to help Joel Webster from TRCP on his Nevada elk hunt. We spent the first two days filming conservation content about feral horses, cheat grass, conifer encroachment, public land transfer, and after that was done, starting scouting for elk. Joel took a great bull three days later, allowing us to get home a few days early and giving me the last two days of Montana pronghorn season.

The final two days of Montana pronghorn found most of the bucks having shed their horns. Trying to self-film highly spooked pronghorn is far harder than it seems it should be. At least for me. The first tag of the year where our stunning good luck seemed to wane.

Back home for two days was enough to get slightly caught up. Jace and I headed to Wyoming for whitetail on a second-choice deer tag. Hardly any public land in this area, so I wasn’t inclined to be picky; anything 3.5 years or older was getting shot at. Haven’t got the age reports back for the later hunts, but I suspect this will age to be a 4.5+ year-old buck, broken, yet further proof that this was our lucky year.

From that it was to return for my Montana elk tag with a rifle. Having screwed up archery season, passed some chances early in the season, I was again filming myself. Four days of seeing bulls far off, mostly on the boundary of public-private, resulted in my tag still unpunched as I left for my niece’s wedding the weekend before Thanksgiving.

Home from the wedding and having committed to not miss turkey day, I spend two days searching for elk, which was mostly trying to keep the wind from blowing me off the mountain. I came home to eat a bunch of turkey and pie, then spent the last three days filming myself and my futility of trying to kill this nice bull I knew was around. I passed a few mature bucks, feeling sorry for the state of deer in Montana, preferring to focus on elk. Season ended with that nice bull bedded within 20 yards of the unfenced boundary and me not comfortable with the high risk he’d escape to his favorite spots on private if I did hit him from what would be a 400-ish yard shot. Oh well, even with the tag unpunched it was lots of fun on those days of rifle elk hunting, seeing bulls every day.

One day home and Marcus and I boarded a plane to Arizona for an easy-to-draw Coues deer tag. I ended up with whatever bug had been going around the office. One day of barely hunting had me wishing I’d turned the tag back in. On Day 2 Marcus doubted if I should leave bed, given how I looked. I decided to try until noon. It didn’t take that long. Twenty minutes after shooting light I was hanging a tag on the best of my three rifle Coues deer. I spent the next three days laying in a hotel bed while Marcus filmed b-roll and did some quail hunting. A deer I surely didn't deserve, but what's a guy to do when they seem to appear from nowhere.

I recovered from the Arizona bug just in time to head to Vegas to do four days of volunteer work for RMEF at Hunter and Outdoor Christmas, an event they host in conjunction with the NFR. The normal mob of “less than clean” humanity that Vegas is known for. The morning we were headed to the airport to fly home, I could tell something was wrong. I masked up, hoping to not spread to anyone else on the plane. That night found me with a temp of 102.6F and the next morning had me at the doc taking chest X-rays for what was bacterial pneumonia. Seven days in bed, coughing my lungs out and taking meds really messed up my plan to get caught up at the office before Christmas.

The day after Christmas, my niece, Sidney, and her husband showed up for her Wyoming elk hunt. Her being an avid hunter, I promised her an elk hunt for her high school graduation present. It took six years to draw. In the interim, she graduated college, became a teacher, and got married. Her only window from work was Christmas to New Years. So, that’s what we applied for. With one day left to hunt, she shot a nice six-point bull, capping off a season that was far better than we deserved.

I feel grateful that Mrs. Fin tolerates my absence and that the crew can keep things afloat while I’m mostly absent. The bout with pneumonia has me far more tired than any season we’ve ever had, but some have told me that might be a result of recently turning 60.

A few things stuck with me this season. 36 nights in my GoFastCamper showed me some uses and conditions I didn’t think I’d use it for. I realized how much fun I have filming myself and going at my own pace. It usually doesn’t result in a punched tag, but I’m just fine with that. I went to some new places that I hope to return someday. I realized how much I love watching November whitetails in the creek bottoms. It reinforced how much it means to hunt with my family members. And mostly, it showed me that some of the most fun hunts can be those OTC, General, or second-choice tags.

I hope you all had remarkable seasons. Best wishes in 2025. I hope your mailboxes are filled with tags by the time the draws are completed in June. Thanks for following along and supporting our content.

Now, to start recording all of the content in my notebooks related to attacks on public land, restrictions on conservation easements, public land access projects, stupid legislation, and the pile of other things Marcus and I have outlined while sitting atop mountains waiting for elk to appear.
So Good! To an even better, Happy new year!
 
Wow !! What an incredible pace !! Not many could work through that many hunts, that much travel, topped off with a could bouts of illness !! Congratulations on a great year !!
 
Thank you so much for the tales Randy. They’re inspiring and crossing my fingers to draw spring bear in Oregon.
 
Dropped my niece and her husband at the airport yesterday. I would say that her hunt in Wyoming was one of the most memorable of the year. No because of big elk running around everywhere, rather because of how much the outdoors mean to my family; it is where we go to build memories and forget about the world. Sidney is an experienced hunter and angler. Her and Ethan are wild carnivores, making local fish, grouse, and deer their highest-quality/lowest-cost protein option.

This hunt was a roll of the dice - a migration hunt in a small area that was targeted for bulls that hit haystacks at night and then retreat to the Forest Service to bed for the day. You hope there is enough snow to get them migrating, yet not too much snow that they've migrated through and are now 40 miles away.

Marcus had the same tag last year. He took five trips down there before finally killing a bull the last week of season (January). He warned me that this was threading the needle when Sidney only had five days to hunt and it was all weather/snow dependent. But, we didn't have any choice. Teachers only have certain windows of time and that was the window we had.

Ten total tags. We didn't see what I was convinced to be another hunter. The area is so tiny that you can glass all of it from the county road. It is a very boring hunt, until you find one. Even when you find one, it's a stalk that requires snowshoes or skis, and requires a careful plan, as if you bump him, he's likely gone for good.

We didn't see any bulls the afternoon we got there. None on Day 2, given the snow and visibility was zero. None on Day 3 until the last 15 minutes of daylight when the snow stopped for a short period. Even those were in the wrong hunting area. Finally, it cleared on Day 4 with 18" of fresh snow on top of the other 30" that was already there. We saw one lone elk track leaving a haystack and headed to the Forest. Marcus spotted him bedded under a huge spruce, the huge limbs providing protection that was keeping the snow levels lower.

A 1.5 hour uphill hike through snow that at times was to the handles of my trekking poles maxed out at 125 cm. Thankfully an old snowmobile trail went toward the bull, providing some base underneath all of this new fluff. We had to leave that trail to approach above the bull. I was busting trail in snow well above my waist.

The bull was still there, bedded in a terrible position, obscured by limbs with his head uphill. From our position above him, his butt was downhill and his neck and head covered much of his body. This sucked, but we didn't have much choice. We built a shooting bench of four MR packs stacked on top of each other and augered out the deep snow for Sidney to kneel in. I told her to wait until she felt the shot was 99% perfect, making the first shot count. After about ten minutes of waiting the bull turned his head and opened a small shooting window to his body cavity.

Sidney shot and with the suppressed .308 I could hear the bullet impact on bones. The bull stood and started slogging to our left, hardly making ground in the deep snow. Marcus hit the cow call and the bull stopped to look. Sidney had to rise up and almost off-hand this shot. She hit a bit high, spining him right above the lungs. He went down. Having heard my discussion that if a bull is moving I keep on shooting, she rested on the packs and placed another one in his lungs. The bull was done.

The only bull we saw in the unit was this nice six point. A stroke of luck, for sure. Hard to stay focused and be ready when three days of boredom and zero visibility had us relegated to looking for tracks that crossed the road into her unit. Lots of time in the truck.

Sid and her new husband, Ethan, were a huge help in getting this bull out of here. Ethan trekked back to the truck for the Jet Sled while Marcus, Sid, and I did the gutting and gilling. Our first 150' of vertical would have been a grunt with no snow. A cornice of wind blown snow that was deeper than my height was something we had to cut through to get down to the bull. We knew it would be a pull to get ourselves back up to the ridge trail, let alone with loads of meat. Yet, Ethan, all 140 pounds of him, took the hind quarters in two trips. Sid took the head, backstraps, and tenderloins in two trips. I wussed out and only got one trip with a front and half of the trim. Marcus took a similar load and then came back for the pile of gear we had to set ditch to make room in our packs for meat.

The hike out was far better. Mostly downhill in a trail we'd already cut on our way in. Marcus had brought his skis with skins. Ethan, Sid and I each had a load in our packs and Marcus skied down the slope with the remainder in the sled behind him.

I'll never apply for that tag again. Such a roll of the dice. We lucked out. The one bull that was still there left tracks we could glass in the fresh snow. If the visibility had continued as it was, we'd have never seen the tracks or the bull.

Yet, it was a special time. Sid and I have enjoyed times together. She and her sisters come to Montana skiing and stay with us. When I go to Minnesota, she and I have do some fishing if time isn't too constraining. To spend five days together, helping her get her second bull, in a place locked tight in the grips of winter, was one more special time for the memory vault.

A perfect way to end a wonderful season. Thanks, Sid. Thanks, Ethan. Thanks, Marcus. And thanks to all of you for following along.

IMG_2781.jpeg
 
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Now, to start recording all of the content in my notebooks related to attacks on public land, restrictions on conservation easements, public land access projects, stupid legislation, and the pile of other things Marcus and I have outlined while sitting atop mountains waiting for elk to appear.
Looking forward to it. Never been more important - there's no one else in the hunting space doing it or at the very least doing it well and prioritized as content. Thank you.
 
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