fishing4sanity
Well-known member
Sometimes when you look at hunting, if you just add up the cost of tags, the time, the fuel (ouch, my truck seems to have a drinking problem) and the other costs, you start to wonder if it's worth it.
However, we all know there's much more to it than the cost of putting meat in the freezer, it's a chance to feel renewed and alive again. In my case it's also a chance to spend time with my sons. I'm lucky enough to get to farm with my sons, but hunting with them is more fun than working with them and certainly of a different quality.
At home we had finally finished onion harvest and it was time to head to Wyoming with my sons, Derrick and Spencer, to hunt antelope. When we got to their unit we found some snow and muddy roads. One area we had planned to hunt still had snow drifts over the road that no one else had driven through, so we hoped we would have the area to ourselves. The other areas we had tried had some very spooky antelope, even at distances well beyond 1,000 yards if the antelope spotted us they just took off. Even this snow drifted area seemed to have very alert animals, so we did a lot of long range glassing and stalking, just to find that even unaware antelope had always fed or wandered off to areas where we couldn't close the distance enough for a shot opportunity. We did find this willing participant and while a 50 yard shot and a 20 yard drag to the two-track road was tempting, we settled on just taking his picture.
This picture Derrick took was one of my favorites from the hunt, it may not show much to the casual observer, but to me it reflects some long stalks, sore feet and time spent with my sons.
During the time we were there, the snow had pretty much melted away, but the tracks in the mud showed "our area" was still only being hunted by us, so we hiked in again and things took a turn for the better.
After another long stalk resulting in a white butt disappearing into the distance, I headed back to get the truck while my sons went over yet another ridge. As I drove further into "our area" I spotted two bucks in the distance and as I watched them I was wondering if there was any chance my sons had seen these bucks? As I watched through my binos one of the bucks suddenly collapsed, I kind of laughed to myself and thought, 'I think they saw them.' Naturally,we always want a bigger buck than the last one we shot, but Derrick decided as tough as it had been getting close to antelope in this unit he wasn't going to pass up an 80 yard shot and notched his tag.
While Derrick and I cleaned and hauled his antelope to the truck, Spencer headed over the ridge to see if a group of 8 they had earlier seen in the distance was still in the area. Just after we got to the truck, Spencer called on the radio and asked if we wanted to come over his direction with a couple of backpacks. That call sounded like we had some work ahead of us, the kind of work that when it's done leaves you with a big ol' smile and a sore back. He had followed that group of 8 for quite some distance, slowly getting closer, watching the one buck in the group chasing does and feeding. He had everything ranged, 347 yards, adjusted for the wind and was about to take the shot when one of the does stopped running from the buck, apparently the rut wasn't over yet, he waited a little longer and figured at least the buck would die happy.
Happily exhausted and sore, we slept well that night and then drove 986 miles home the next day. I wanted to drive around an extra 14 miles just to make it an even 1,000 miles in a day, but my sons quickly let me know that wasn't happening. Also, on the way home through Meridian, ID we stopped at my wife's favorite place in the world to make sure everyone was happy with how the hunt had ended.
Sorry about the long-winded story, but Wyoming provided some great memories in a rather short amount of time. If I look at that antelope meat on a cost per pound basis the trip might not make sense, but any other way I look at the hunt with my sons it was priceless.
However, we all know there's much more to it than the cost of putting meat in the freezer, it's a chance to feel renewed and alive again. In my case it's also a chance to spend time with my sons. I'm lucky enough to get to farm with my sons, but hunting with them is more fun than working with them and certainly of a different quality.
At home we had finally finished onion harvest and it was time to head to Wyoming with my sons, Derrick and Spencer, to hunt antelope. When we got to their unit we found some snow and muddy roads. One area we had planned to hunt still had snow drifts over the road that no one else had driven through, so we hoped we would have the area to ourselves. The other areas we had tried had some very spooky antelope, even at distances well beyond 1,000 yards if the antelope spotted us they just took off. Even this snow drifted area seemed to have very alert animals, so we did a lot of long range glassing and stalking, just to find that even unaware antelope had always fed or wandered off to areas where we couldn't close the distance enough for a shot opportunity. We did find this willing participant and while a 50 yard shot and a 20 yard drag to the two-track road was tempting, we settled on just taking his picture.
This picture Derrick took was one of my favorites from the hunt, it may not show much to the casual observer, but to me it reflects some long stalks, sore feet and time spent with my sons.
During the time we were there, the snow had pretty much melted away, but the tracks in the mud showed "our area" was still only being hunted by us, so we hiked in again and things took a turn for the better.
After another long stalk resulting in a white butt disappearing into the distance, I headed back to get the truck while my sons went over yet another ridge. As I drove further into "our area" I spotted two bucks in the distance and as I watched them I was wondering if there was any chance my sons had seen these bucks? As I watched through my binos one of the bucks suddenly collapsed, I kind of laughed to myself and thought, 'I think they saw them.' Naturally,we always want a bigger buck than the last one we shot, but Derrick decided as tough as it had been getting close to antelope in this unit he wasn't going to pass up an 80 yard shot and notched his tag.
While Derrick and I cleaned and hauled his antelope to the truck, Spencer headed over the ridge to see if a group of 8 they had earlier seen in the distance was still in the area. Just after we got to the truck, Spencer called on the radio and asked if we wanted to come over his direction with a couple of backpacks. That call sounded like we had some work ahead of us, the kind of work that when it's done leaves you with a big ol' smile and a sore back. He had followed that group of 8 for quite some distance, slowly getting closer, watching the one buck in the group chasing does and feeding. He had everything ranged, 347 yards, adjusted for the wind and was about to take the shot when one of the does stopped running from the buck, apparently the rut wasn't over yet, he waited a little longer and figured at least the buck would die happy.
Happily exhausted and sore, we slept well that night and then drove 986 miles home the next day. I wanted to drive around an extra 14 miles just to make it an even 1,000 miles in a day, but my sons quickly let me know that wasn't happening. Also, on the way home through Meridian, ID we stopped at my wife's favorite place in the world to make sure everyone was happy with how the hunt had ended.
Sorry about the long-winded story, but Wyoming provided some great memories in a rather short amount of time. If I look at that antelope meat on a cost per pound basis the trip might not make sense, but any other way I look at the hunt with my sons it was priceless.
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