Preference points are worthless if you don't use them - WY Trip Recap

charliebravo77

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11 years ago I met a stranger from the internet at the end of a dirt road outside Kankakee, Illinois to try hunting for the first real time - enter Kurt. We both had shotguns, it was 4AM in the relative middle of nowhere, what could go wrong? I had wandered around in the woods with a .22 looking for squirrels once before, but this was the first time I'd be going with someone who, presumably, knew what they were doing. Despite being unable to pull borrowed waders much past my knees, being ill-equipped for the elements and only getting one or two missed opportunities at taking a shot at ducks I was hooked.

Since then we've hunted whitetail, turkeys, ducks, squirrels, mule deer and elk across the country in a mentor-mentee relationship that predates formal R3 initiatives, or at least before we were aware of them. It's been an eye-opening experience getting first hand experience in a pursuit that I had no immediate or really even distant family members to learn from.

Sitting in that duck blind the very first time meeting we talked about all sorts of game to pursue, one in particular being Antilocapra americana. Whether known by the American antelope, speed goat or pronghorn, this critter embodies the American West. It is so uniquely North American that not only is it the only species of its kind that made it out of the Pleistocene but its closest living relatives are very distant cousins the Giraffe. Since the extinction of the American cave lion, the adult pronghorn lacks any significant predators aside from humans as they are the fastest land animal on the continent topping 55 miles per hour, though cougars, wolves, coyotes, grizzlies, golden eagles and bobcats will prey on them (particularly fawns) when they can catch them. Nothing will send chills down your spine like a bugling bull elk, but the pronghorn is the welcome wagon of the west, likely being the first critter you see traveling into the Great Plains, Rocky Mountains and sagebrush flats west of the Mississippi.

Our first trip west was in 2014 where we hunted pronghorn in northeast Wyoming in what is ostensibly a pretty undesirable unit. However, there are pronghorn probably in almost every square mile of Wyoming that is below 9,000 feet and we hiked our asses off while filling a buck and doe tag each. We instantly knew we'd be returning to the west as often as we could.

Since then, we've been building points while hunting a few other times in Wyoming on 2nd choice or leftover tags for pronghorn. Earlier this year we decided to swing for the fences and put in for what should be (and was) a guaranteed draw on a good unit on the edges of the Red Desert. We couldn't get a true Red Desert tag, which are some of the most desirable, due to perpetually being a point or two behind in the draw. Preference points are worthless if you never use them, so we did. We took a friend of Kurt's one year, I took my cousin once and in 2020 he and I took a mutual friend but this year our group application included my mentor's mentor, Kurt's dad.

The three of us booked our flights, an Airbnb and rental Jeep and met at Denver International Airport last Wednesday night.

Right off the bat we had a brief hiccup with Enterprise, first a 4 door Wrangler that wouldn't start then a substituted soft top Wrangler that was just not going to be a great choice for our trip, they offered a Jeep Gladiator that we gladly accepted. Later it would be dubbed the Goat Wagon. We drove to Longmont, Colorado and grabbed a hotel for the night. The next morning we continued north to our destination outside Rawlins in south central Wyoming.

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With far more experience, better gear and a well researched game plan we set out to scout the afternoon and evening once we dumped our gear at the Airbnb cabin.

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We started seeing pronghorn pretty quickly and marked dozens of waypoints on OnX. The unit had been hit hard by winter kills a few years ago and numbers were down from what we expected, but there were bucks to be found. Many were small to average size and only a handful approaching 'big' in comparison to some surrounding units. We made particular note of the bigger bucks and hoped that we could relocate them once the season opened on Saturday.

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After getting the lay of the land we returned to the cabin for dinner courtesy of Trader Joe's and got some sleep.

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The next morning we started scouting at sunrise and checked out another chunk of the unit.

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After a few hours we went into town for a hot breakfast and then returned to some BLM land to get Kurt's dad some additional time behind a rifle. While he's been hunting for probably over 40 years, he has almost exclusively hunted turkeys and ducks. He'd never been on a big game hunt for even deer until this trip. Kurt had a couple of range sessions with him prior to the trip but there's no substitute for shooting in field conditions. We set up a target with a safe backstop and got in some prone and sitting supported practice using tripods and shooting sticks.

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Before it got too late we hit the two tracks again and scouted another section of the unit, after which resulted in us getting eyes on the vast majority of likely pronghorn habitat available and had us pretty comfortable that we'd be able to relocate a few bucks in the morning.

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Opening morning we were up and dressed well before shooting time. Our first stop was only a 5 minute drive from the cabin and 30-45 minute hike by red headlamp to get set up on a hillside overlooking an area we had seen many pronghorn the two days prior.

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Just as the sun was coming up I spotted a buck and doe headed our way. Kurt and I were both in agreement that his dad had first shot at anything we came across, much to his insistence otherwise. The only stipulation was that we were trying to keep his dad's potential shot opportunities under 200 yards if at all possible, as he wasn't nearly as comfortable with longer range shots as we were. With the buck quickly approaching but briefly obscured by the terrain, we got into position.

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This buck, young and curious, presented a perfect shot opportunity at less than 100 yards and with one shot he dropped instantly.

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Too fast to have been captured on camera I spotted another buck, much larger than the first. Kurt and I both moved into position to try and make a shot. I tried to get steady off my glassing tripod but at approximately 275 yards he was just too far for me to take a shot with minimal support. Kurt had moved slightly higher up onto a plateau and was able to get prone on a bipod with a good shot. Within the first 20 minutes of legal shooting light we had two of three tags filled.

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We quartered up Kurt's dad's buck then moved on to Kurt's.

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Kurt packed up both he and his dad's meat and we set off on the extremely difficult 1000 yard every so slightly downhill pack out. A welcome change of pace from some previous trips.

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We got back to the cabin to stick the meat in the fridge and have some quick lunch before returning to the field to try and fill my remaining tag.

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We headed back out to a spot where we saw one of the biggest bucks in the unit two days prior. Hopeful that he was still hanging around we started a slow and methodical hike around a couple of hillsides to try and glass likely areas they might be grazing or bedded down. I stowed the camera in favor of a rifle in my hands. We spotted a doe that quickly disappeared into a valley and we worked around a plateau to try and see if there were any others below. I was slowly making my way over the crest of the hill, taking a few steps, glassing, taking a few more steps when Kurt or his dad, I forget which, both as loudly and as quietly as possible called out that he spotted a pronghorn. I glassed up a doe bedded down on the hillside across from me. I sat down and watched her for a couple of minutes. She eventually stood up and stared straight at me for what seemed like eternity. She wasn't spooked, but was just unsure of what she might see across the valley. I was cautiously optimistic that she wasn't alone and there may be a buck nearby. Sure enough, another curious young buck poked his head over the crest of the hill that the doe was on and made his way closer to see what was up. As I'm watching the buck make his way closer and closer to me Kurt calls out again. Another buck is behind and to the left of me and closing in fast. On a mission, this buck is on a full trot to end up crossing right in front of me. I quickly move up to a flat spot on the hilltop, take a quick rangefinder read about where I think he's going to cross over the hilltop and prone out with my bipod. I range 135 yards where I think he will appear and with a 200 yard zero only need to settle behind the rifle and wait. I see him appear at the edge of the hilltop plateau and take a few steps. Frequently pronghorn will take in their surroundings while high on top of hills, sky-lined in what seems to be behavior antithetical to survival until you remember they can outrun anything on the landscape. Fortunately for me he does stop and I am able to squeeze off a shot that lands right through the lungs and rib cage. With him quartered towards me slightly it's a near perfect shot and he only turns and runs maybe 20 yards before expiring.

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We quarter up my buck and quickly carry the meat back to the Jeep as it begins to lightly rain. By the time we get back to the cabin it will have been barely 12 hours from the beginning of the hunt to having all three tags filled. While we had high hopes for the trip it was an incredible success thanks in part to Kurt's and my experience and planning after 8 years of western hunting but also the 35 years of experience growing up hunting with his dad, absent that likely means I'd have ended up down the rabbit hole of some other hobby.

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The next day we deboned all the meat, zip lock bagged it and put it in the freezer to get it cold enough to travel. We rebooked flights for a day earlier than anticipated, skinned out the skulls for euro mounts and then drove to the divey-est dive bar in all of Wyoming for a cheeseburger and Budweiser.

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We tried to get the sheaths off the skulls to help make for a smaller package to fly with, but only succeeded with one in the time we had available.

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A trip to Walmart for bubble wrap and shrink wrap got things protected and sealed up enough to stick under our pack lids to get through TSA, grab an airport beer and carry on our flights.

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Both of us flew meat back in Yeti Hopper M30s which proved to be worth every penny. Not only is it easier to handle than a hard sided cooler when flying but even though we packed the coolers at 5AM on Monday morning when I opened up mine tonight, Tuesday at 9PM the meat was still mostly frozen solid in the center, some pieces even frosty.

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I portioned out everything, plastic wrapped, butcher paper wrapped then stuck in my chest freezer to be ready for a meal soon.

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I'll probably break out my first batch for an upcoming Learn to Hunt event here in IL so new adult hunters can get a taste of the wild west. Just like Kurt's dad to Kurt and Kurt to me, I have been trying to help mentor others new to hunting since I became comfortable enough myself. It's incredibly rewarding to help others find success in the field and it was a great experience to help pay that back to the mentor of a mentor on this trip.
 
Excellent photos. Looks like a cool cabin as well. Congratulations on a great hunt.
 
Congratulations! Makes one consider washing any pots and pans left in an AirBnB!
Haha, we made sure to deep clean everything before we left.

Your host left Kurt a review for the trip you just took.
"The cleaning staff was very pleased with Kurt’s stay at the cabin. The rules were followed, the cabin was left neat and clean. Recommend for other hosts."
 
Great write up.

I think just making the logistics for an airline assisted hunt definitely gives this hunt "Style Points"

Your photos captured the mood perfectly!
 
That looks like a great hunt and fantastic photos. What camera were you using?
 
Sounds like a great hunt in a great place with great people. Congrats on the success and adventure!
 
Awesome hunt with some great photos. Not having to boil skulls in your own home is always a bonus.
 
PEAX Trekking Poles

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