Make Bison Hunting Great Again

5pm- basically skipped out the doors at work. The truck is packed up, but I always get the feeling I’m forgetting something, even though the load out is the same as every other backpack hunt I’ve done, besides having 5 times more game bags. The plan is to get about 6 hours down the road, get some rest, and be glassing by midday tomorrow.
With a national day for everything, I laughed when I learned Saturday the 4th is national bison day. Maybe it’s a good omen. Cool and clear forecast, so we’ll find out soon enough!
 
With a national day for everything, I laughed when I learned Saturday the 4th is national bison day. Maybe it’s a good omen. Cool and clear forecast, so we’ll find out soon enough!
The bison come to you in many unique ways. Good luck, looking forward to this one.
 
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Bison skulls at the best dinner deal in the country to fuel up last night.
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Luckily, I think we hit our only snow for the week right off the bat. It’s 59 and sunny as I type this up- perfect hunting weather!

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Wanting a good night of sleep, and without any good camping spots along I-15 (I usually stay at the Brigham city rest area for ski trips, but that’s without a full truck bed), we stayed in Ogden and then joined the commuters on their morning drive south.


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Finally, we got our look at the Books!

I’ll check in as service allows! Good day to have a bison tag.
 
We stopped and topped off both trucks for fuel in Green River, with Isaac filling up a couple extra gas cans to last the week.

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While fueling up, I noticed one of my bolts for the push bumper was missing- knowing we were about to be on washboard roads for the next week, I opted to head to the Napa and get a replacement.

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While I got the replacement bolt, nut, and lock washer, Isaac ran to a sandwich shop to get an order in for an on the go lunch before we switched over to freeze-dried for the remainder of the hunt. Leaving Napa to go meet up with him, my Dad and I found the "teen center". I'm not sure what happens here, but I judged this book by the cover.

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Back on the road and headed east, we crossed into the unit when we went across the Green River. Although we could technically hunt anything north of the interstate, the country didn't lend itself much of a "bison look".

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Our destination was Winter Ridge, which borders the roadless on the north end. It's generally higher in elevation than the south end of the unit, and I had marked a few spots that I thought we could glass from for the evening and see pretty well into the bottoms of the roadless in hopes of either spotting Bison or getting a better lay of the land before we planned to hike in to the roadless from the south side later in the week, which is accessed from Thompson Springs. After another 40 or so minutes on I-70, we hit our exit and started north across the low lands. They transitioned from the desert we saw along the highway to more of a grassland. When we passed a camp with multiple campers and side by sides, Isaac stopped to chat and see if they had seen anything. We learned they had multiple spike elk tags, and one of the guys had one of the five bison tags, but they had yet to see any bison. They indicated they were checking some of the stock tanks with water being in short supply this far south in the unit, and were filling their spike tags in the meantime.

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We continued north, and entered into the canyon country, similar to what I had seen from the Thompson Springs entrance back in August. We made our way through the canyons, seeing plenty of cow or bison pies, as well as bovine tracks. Not knowing if this was bison sign or the makings of the feral cattle, we kept our eyes glued to the surroundings in hopes of making our first sighting.

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Driving up the road, we passed an oil truck coming down. I slowed and rolled my window down, as did he. I asked if he had seen any bison, and he scoff laughed, and said "Bison?! Hell no. I saw some deer further up" indicating further north where we were headed. I thanked him and we continued on. After an hour or so after leaving the interstate, we popped out on top of Winter ridge- the country was far different than I expected. It was much more brushy, flat, and fairly open. Knowing everything to the north of the road was outside my unit, we took in the much more rugged driver side views as we headed west along the ridge.

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Arriving to where we planned to camp around 3:30, we decided to use the evening for glassing only and then reconvene at dark. With plans made, Isaac took off to go glass some country on the east side of the roadless, and my dad and I went to check the first of the glassing points I had marked out. We parked the truck and took light packs with us, leaving the rifle at the truck. From this planned vantage, I'd be about 1200 feet above the creek bottoms, and figured I would be limited on time to make a play anyway.

Walking out to the point, we bumped a few wild horses, who although spooked, didn't want to leave the point we had in mind. There were numerous "pies" all over the point, but all were very old. I still wasn't sure if they were cow or buff, but I recalled the Biologist saying some of the bulls will stay up on the high ridges when the snow stacks up. The bison would have a higher tolerance for the snow and cold than the cattle would, but I just couldn't be sure. Beside, I was hoping I would find a bison sooner than later and not have to find out where the bulls are when winter sets in.

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Out at the overlook, I could see a few miles west, and a mile or so south. Right off the bat, I caught a single file line of dark animals coming out of a side canyon about three miles west of us. Excited, I threw my spotter up, but by the time I had it out of my pack, they had gone into a cut. I figured I'd check back in a few minutes. Below me and maybe a mile or so away, I caught more animals coming out. My heart skipped a beat as I saw the dark boxy animals making their way out into the creek bottom. The shape was a bit too familiar though, and my binos confirmed that I was looking at some of the feral cows that call the area home.




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Looking back to the lined out animals to the west, I caught the look I needed to cross them off as well- more wild horses.

My Dad and I spent the remainder of the evening glassing, and only had the cows, horses, and a herd of 30 or so elk to show for it. But the sun felt nice, as did being out of the truck. The views were great, and the country looked more accessible than I had imagined. I schemed the next few days' plan in my mind.

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We started back to the truck with enough light to glass along the hike, and then hopefully the short drive. The initial band of horses was still hanging on the point, and we snapped a few photos. I know how polarizing they are, and how big the impact is they have on the landscape, but I couldn't help but admire their beauty and how easily they moved across the terrain.

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The sunset didn't disappoint as day 1 came to a close. We wrapped up the night with pitching out our tents and getting a small fire going to take the chill off while we ate. I turned in for a restless night's sleep with an alarm set for 5am.

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Saturday broke cool and clear. A quick coffee and oatmeal, and I was ready to head off. The plan was for Isaac and I to drop into the north end of the roadless and cover some ground for the first half of the day to see if we could find any recent sign. My dad wasn't feeling well, and the culprit seemed to be from his sandwich the day before, specifically bad salami - a little ode to @EYJONAS!

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I was packed fairly light, but figured it best to bring the rifle since it was now our first full day of hunting. The Henry is heavy enough as it is- add in 1300gr of bullets, as well as the case and powder, and it was no ultralight mountain rifle, but damn if it didn't look the part of a buffalo gun, just with a couple more modern touches. I was wearing some light hiking shoes to cover country faster, and was only packing a puffy and my spotter in my main compartment. The pack lid had the usual couple snacks, headlamp, TP, water filter, knife, sharpener, inReach, extra ammo etc.

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My dad decided he would stay high on the ridge and glass while Isaac and I dropped into the bottom. We gave the drainages a quick look over, seeing a few more feral cows, but nothing else.

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I could have used some direction like another hunter had gotten at some point:

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We picked our way down through the sandstone cliffs, and eventually came on to a game trail that took us to the bottom. The hike down took a bit longer than expected, as we had continually gotten cliffed out, but it felt good to be in the drainage. The ground was level and there were a fair number of trails to walk along that made travel pretty quick. I figured we would go 5 or 6 miles, than turn back and head back up to meet up with my dad, as well as another friend who was stopping by on his way to New Mexico.

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There were plenty of tracks in the bottom, but with feral cows not too far away, I didn't pay much attention to the ones that looked freshest in the moon dust. However, I came across a bison carcass, and was able to examine the hoof a little more close. It seemed more round than those of beef, but I wasn't sure if that was just from the elements working on the hoof over time as it deteriorated.




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Walking the bottoms, I noticed some petroglyphs in a small wind cave. I walked over to take a closer look, and saw several carcasses laying about- horses, an elk, bison, cows. They were all laying in ash, and when I tried to get close, the ash came over the top of my light boots, probably 6-8" deep. I'm not entirely sure what all is going on there, but it sure piqued my interest.

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We kept hiking, figuring National Bison day ought to be celebrated by at least seeing one!

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