T Bone
Well-known member
Just returned from the family hunting trip to Southern Idaho. It was so good to get back to my roots and hunt with my Dad and son. We didn't expect much as far as deer due to the winter kill, but we were pleasantly surprised.
Friday- My son and I hit our favorite drainage. Glassing the rolling sage and pockets of brush for a buck. It didn't take long and we had a very nice heavy 3x3 at 250 yards. My 12 year old got broadsided with buck fever and missed...many times! We spotted one more big buck that was on the move and we never relocated him. William popped his first blue grouse and felt pretty good about it.
A cold front blew in and snow fell on us as we hiked back to camp.
Saturday My Dad, Son and I headed up the same drainage with big plans. Our plans adapted to the conditions and Dad went up one way and William and I another.
William and I spotted a trophy spike buck and made a stellar stalk. We set up the shot...and... missed many times.
Saturday evening I got hit with my own case of buck fever as I spotted a very large pot bellied, heavy antlered deer in a brush pocket. We planned, and the stalk began. The stalk took us out of sight of the buck for about 30 minutes....during which I explained to William that with such a buck, he gets no first-shot privileges. He understood.
We eased over the ridge, set up for a prone shot and...couldn't locate him. I went to small brush pocket and chucked rocks...nothing! Houdini buck had disappeared. He was on my brain all night long.
Sunday We slept in and ate huge amounts of pancakes, eggs and bacon. We then took a trip and visited the grave of 3x great grandfather who crossed the plains in a wagon train and was one of the first settlers in the valley (late 1800's).
Seven generation pic.
Sunday afternoon, William and I headed out and spotted a lone spike buck. We stalked like ninjas and set up for a prone 191 yard shot on a calm bedded deer. 1st shot was high and left. The buck kindly stayed bedded for a couple minutes while composure was regained. The buck then decided that exploding rocks by ones head can't be normal, and stood up broadside.
Boom! Thwack! His first buck down.
Real proud of this kid!
We spent the rest of the evening quartering and packing.
Monday My day to find Houdini. I found him. He is a tank. He is crafty, burrowing into the thickest brush on the hill. I circled above the brush pocket, and started chucking rocks, rifle at the ready to jump-shoot this buck. Nothing. Nothing. I scratched my head. Houdini strikes again. I circle back to where I spotted him. Take off my orange, hide in the shade and eat snacks. 30 minutes go by and then...periscope up. I see antler tips again! I wonder how to kill this buck, shoot in the brush where I think his body is? No, that's not right.....I study the pocket and pinpoint where he is. I circle above the pocket. The buck's expecting bed within 40 yards. I throw rocks. I clap my hands. I yell at him. nothing.... It dawns on me, this buck must be wounded.
I wade into the head high brush, rifle ready. One step, pause. Two steps pause. On about step 10. the buck explodes. The rifle swings.
It's entirely possible to miss a buck at 15 steps. True story. Bullet hit a sapling about 2 feet in front of me.
Good grief, I suck. Bad.
I was pleased to find a big old buck in this general season unit. I was happy that I figured Houdini out, but the outcome was different than I expected!
On a bright note William found some ruffies and popped one.
Thoughts:
Few things can compare to hunting in an area where I as a kid flipped rocks all day at brothers, grouse and squirrels while Dad hunted.
Few things can compare to hunting with my again Dad. His steps are short, but our adventures have been large.
Few things can compare with hunting with my kids. I hope this all sticks.
Anyhow...thanks for coming along.
Friday- My son and I hit our favorite drainage. Glassing the rolling sage and pockets of brush for a buck. It didn't take long and we had a very nice heavy 3x3 at 250 yards. My 12 year old got broadsided with buck fever and missed...many times! We spotted one more big buck that was on the move and we never relocated him. William popped his first blue grouse and felt pretty good about it.
A cold front blew in and snow fell on us as we hiked back to camp.
Saturday My Dad, Son and I headed up the same drainage with big plans. Our plans adapted to the conditions and Dad went up one way and William and I another.
William and I spotted a trophy spike buck and made a stellar stalk. We set up the shot...and... missed many times.
Saturday evening I got hit with my own case of buck fever as I spotted a very large pot bellied, heavy antlered deer in a brush pocket. We planned, and the stalk began. The stalk took us out of sight of the buck for about 30 minutes....during which I explained to William that with such a buck, he gets no first-shot privileges. He understood.
We eased over the ridge, set up for a prone shot and...couldn't locate him. I went to small brush pocket and chucked rocks...nothing! Houdini buck had disappeared. He was on my brain all night long.
Sunday We slept in and ate huge amounts of pancakes, eggs and bacon. We then took a trip and visited the grave of 3x great grandfather who crossed the plains in a wagon train and was one of the first settlers in the valley (late 1800's).
Seven generation pic.
Sunday afternoon, William and I headed out and spotted a lone spike buck. We stalked like ninjas and set up for a prone 191 yard shot on a calm bedded deer. 1st shot was high and left. The buck kindly stayed bedded for a couple minutes while composure was regained. The buck then decided that exploding rocks by ones head can't be normal, and stood up broadside.
Boom! Thwack! His first buck down.
Real proud of this kid!
We spent the rest of the evening quartering and packing.
Monday My day to find Houdini. I found him. He is a tank. He is crafty, burrowing into the thickest brush on the hill. I circled above the brush pocket, and started chucking rocks, rifle at the ready to jump-shoot this buck. Nothing. Nothing. I scratched my head. Houdini strikes again. I circle back to where I spotted him. Take off my orange, hide in the shade and eat snacks. 30 minutes go by and then...periscope up. I see antler tips again! I wonder how to kill this buck, shoot in the brush where I think his body is? No, that's not right.....I study the pocket and pinpoint where he is. I circle above the pocket. The buck's expecting bed within 40 yards. I throw rocks. I clap my hands. I yell at him. nothing.... It dawns on me, this buck must be wounded.
I wade into the head high brush, rifle ready. One step, pause. Two steps pause. On about step 10. the buck explodes. The rifle swings.
It's entirely possible to miss a buck at 15 steps. True story. Bullet hit a sapling about 2 feet in front of me.
Good grief, I suck. Bad.
I was pleased to find a big old buck in this general season unit. I was happy that I figured Houdini out, but the outcome was different than I expected!
On a bright note William found some ruffies and popped one.
Thoughts:
Few things can compare to hunting in an area where I as a kid flipped rocks all day at brothers, grouse and squirrels while Dad hunted.
Few things can compare to hunting with my again Dad. His steps are short, but our adventures have been large.
Few things can compare with hunting with my kids. I hope this all sticks.
Anyhow...thanks for coming along.
