Sometimes it just works out

rmyoung1

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Jul 12, 2010
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I have three boys at home, and my philosophy when introducing them to hunting has been to make trips as fun as possible. And by “fun” I mean hunting in areas where game sightings are plentiful. I guess I’ve sort of assumed that they would most likely develop a love for it if I first showed them target-rich opportunities. It’s debatable, I know. But that’s been my game plan. It’s been a neat process. My oldest is now 17 and enjoys these trips with his dad & grandpa, so I guess I’m winning in that regard.

Along the way, I’ve developed an affection for a Wyoming prairie unit where my sons have had some luck getting our hands on cow/immature bull elk tags. Unfortunately, my favorite spot burned to the ground this summer. Those prairie fires make quick work of a sage grassland. And with little to no moisture this fall, regrowth was nonexistent.
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Not surprisingly, the only elk sign in the burn was of the just-passing-through variety, so I had to study the map a little to locate a new place. I did manage to find some elk on private near some unburned public that seemed to hold promise. Our first morning was a bit of a bust, but by 1pm my oldest, Caleb, and I were marching with a purpose toward a high ridge where we hoped to sit in the shadows of a few ponderosa pines and see what materialized that evening.

We left Dad in the truck and were only 20 minutes into the hike when my eyes crested a small rise. I immediately hit the dirt and looked back at Caleb. He greeted me with a confused expression.

“Crawl up there and shoot that spike,” I commanded.
“Where is it?” he asked.
“Right there. You can’t miss it.”

Caleb obeyed, belly-crawled until he reached the top of the rise, and squeezed off a shot. I stood in time to see the spike crumple. 47 yards.
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I couldn’t believe it worked out that way, but you take ‘em when you get ‘em. Caleb’s type 3 tag required him to take a cow or spike and this one fit the bill.

Dad met us at the kill site and carried two quarters back to the truck at 72 years old. I protested but he likes proving to himself that he can still do it. It’s cool having him there.
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I was enormously grateful that it all worked out. Such a neat experience (again) and yet another chapter of God’s rich blessing. I’ll never get tired of this three-generations-elk-hunt thing we’ve been doing. It won’t last forever, but it’s one of the finest God-given blessings in my life. I’m soaking it up for now.
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That's great! I hope to be packing as your dad when curving that age! Great job to your son, Caleb and props to you, Pops! Great stuff - favorite threads on Hunt Talk involve family hunt stories - with pictures! :)
 

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