This is a story about a deer hunt… at least it started out as a deer hunt…
Opening morning found me and my 11 year old son, Logan, perched at the point about two thirds the way down a canyon we call Jack’s. For three years this has been my vantage point for opening morning, leveraging hunters who would start at the top of the canyon and push the canyon searching for deer… pushing said deer right into my lap. It’s an interesting sight to see, the morning thermals are such that they are not favorable for those hunters yet for whatever reason said hunters continue in spite of those thermals every single year. I can watch the deer stay two small ridges ahead of the hunters the entire way down Jack’s, it’s like clockwork on opening morning every year.
This morning would be no different… hunters starting at the top of the canyon and deer staying just out of reach ahead of them. As we sat on the point I scanned the canyon ahead of me and picked out numerous deer being pushed our direction but light was currently too faint and distance was too great to put antlers on any of them thru the binos. On the small ridge nearest me I noticed a gray body just at the edge of a small cluster of trees and at 280 yards I was able to tell it was a decent buck. I watched the buck mill around the edge of the trees then enter the trees and bed in a spot that was still visible to me. I decided to keep an eye on him and wait him out until the morning thermals shifted before making a move on him… unless something better comes along.
I began to scan the next ridge in the distance and notice a cluster of odd tan ovals in the knee high sage… it didn’t take long to see those tan ovals begin to move and it was clear I was looking at a small herd of elk. Fortune would have it that I did have a cow elk tag for the area… and right, wrong, or indifferent I decided that I would prefer to pack out a cow elk than a buck deer that morning. The herd fed into the trees and I lost them so my attention turned back to the bedded buck in the trees. After about 20 minutes of keeping tabs on the buck I noticed movement in the trees next to him. The herd of elk was coming my direction and now walking a trail just a few yards from where the buck was bedded. I watched as cow after cow filed over the ridge and into a clearing between 260 and 280 yards away. I commented to Logan that if we were rifle hunting then we’d have a dead cow elk right now… but 250+ is just outside of my comfort zone with the muzzleloader… but the path they were on would bring them into range shortly. As I was preparing and trying to find the best possible rest to be ready to take the shot when presented I spotted the herd bull. He was fun to watch and Logan was able to keep an eye on him and get a good look through his binos. Just when I had settled on good rest and was getting settled in I watched every cow in the herd turn her head and look to the west (my left) and to the top of the ridge… within a couple seconds four hunters emerged from the trees and were walking through the clearing that I was projecting the elk to actually walk through if they continued on their current trajectory. Within seconds it sounded like a herd of elephants crashing through the trees as the lead cow barked alarm and led the herd away from harm to safety of another county.
I chatted with the guys for a bit, they were good guys and I’ve crossed paths with them during previous hunts. They apologized, but there was no need to… they did nothing wrong and I let them know that I wasn’t upset or mad… it was just cool to see that herd of elk.Logan started to complain he was hungry so we made our way back to the car and on the way back to the cabin we crossed paths with “the road hunting crew” (my brother, Dad, and Grandpa) and found that my dad shot a nice little 2pt earlier that morning.
Back at the cabin I started skinning and quartering the buck that they had shot while they ate breakfast. I have an agreement with my dad and brother that if they shoot something that I will take care of the cleaning & butchering and in return I get to keep the majority of the meat, it’s a mutually beneficial agreement.
For the evening of opening day Logan wanted to hang out with his cousins so we drove around with the road hunting crew. We came around a small curve in the dusty dirt road to find a grouse walking across. Logan had completed Hunter’s Education over the winter and I acquired a youth model 410 shotgun with the intent of him doing some grouse hunting… so we seized the opportunity. We walked to where the grouse had entered the brush, located it, and he efficiently made his first kill of a game animal.I haven’t been that excited in a while, as soon as the gun went off and I saw the puff of feathers I smacked him on the back and let out a hoot. I think I hit him harder than the recoil of the shotgun. He was happy and his cousins ran over and everyone admired the grouse. A plan was made to get the meat cleaned up and grill it back at the cabin for a late snack. I hadn’t had grouse personally before but I got to admit it was quite delicious.
Thursday morning just down the road from the cabin we came across a number of grouse. There was a small spring with some water draining down along the side of the dirt road and there were several birds getting water. Logan jumped out the car and was able to get one bird. It was a big one, considerably larger than the one from the previous night. We tossed it in the back of the car and headed on our merry way after that 90 second delay. The rest of Thursday morning passed without much fanfare and I determined that I didn’t want to ride with the road hunting crew again for the evening so my plan was for Logan and I to go on a good hike and sit over some water where I had some success in previous years. An added benefit would be that I had yet to hike the trail this year without seeing grouse, and after getting his first taste of hunting success Logan was all in on grouse. My deer hunt was slowly evolving into a grouse hunt.
About halfway up the trail we spotted a couple grouse. It took some time to get the gun ready this time so by the time Logan was ready one of the birds had flown away, but a second bird was still on the ground but it was nervous. Just as he was getting ready to fire that bird flew but we watched it land up on a tree branch about 40 yards away. After a short creep up to near the tree Logan took a bead on the bird and fired. Feathers flew and the bird dropped and landed at the base of the tree. We quickly cleaned the bird up and tucked it in a plastic bag in his pack and headed on our way up the trail looking for more grouse.
We arrived at the pond and sat for about an hour before Logan told me that he didn’t want to sit there anymore and asked if we could go find some more grouse instead. I asked him to give it one more hour and if we hadn’t seen anything by then we’d start hiking back. That hour passed and we did have a close encounter with a bull moose, but since it wasn’t a deer Logan wasn’t buying it when I told him that counted and we needed to stay. So we started hiking back and on the trail on the way back we spooked a small 2pt buck that I missed. Logan wasn’t disappointed. In fact, he was glad that we could spend the rest of the evening trying to find more grouse instead of cleaning and butchering another deer. The remainder of the evening was laid back and uneventful.
Friday morning my 8 year old, Dillon, came up with a couple of my cousins. We got a bit of a late start after getting him situated at the cabin but just around the corner from the cabin we saw the gray flash of feathers in the car headlights. There were several birds there and they were already making their way into the thick trees. I could still see one bird but Logan couldn’t see them anymore so he handed me the little shotgun. I took a bead and fired. I saw the poof of feathers and ran up the trail to get my first grouse only to find two birds lying dead in the trail… I did a two for one!!! Both boys thought that was a funny and cool thing and were impressed with their dad’s “skills.” We tossed them in the back of the car and kept driving. We met up with the rest of the road hunting crew farther up the mountain and found that my brother had shot a 2pt just minutes prior.
They suggested that we walk to the edge of the hill there and look down into the canyon, they had spotted several deer in the previous two days in that canyon but hadn’t attempted going after them. On our way to the edge walking through the grass I caught the flash of gray again and Logan took his fourth grouse of the trip. He ended up going 4 for 4 on his shots and between he and I we ended up with 6 birds in 5 shots. The standard Winchester 2 ½” #6 shells that I got from Widener’s performed really well out of this little youth shotgun.I was able to spot a small buck in a spot that appeared like a doable stalk but I lost him in the trees before the request came from the boys to get back to grouse hunting! We would come back to this same canyon later that evening and my brother would make an epic spot on a bedded buck tucked way back under some trees just minding his own business. I was able to make my way to within range and made what initially appeared to be a good shot. We found blood and a short blood trail but then nothing. We searched until dark and scoured every inch of that canyon for hundreds of yards in all directions. In the end, all we could turn up was about 30 yards of a blood trail starting where he was first hit. It had been a while since I had felt the feelings of hitting an animal and not recovering it. It’s frustrating series of events but it happens.
With other commitments and my calendar booked for the second half of the muzzleloader hunt, that is how my 2018 hunt will end… a couple of missed chances for myself but I got to see my son get his first taste of bringing meat home for the table. I was far more excited to watch and be part of his success than the prospect of my own which was a brand new experience on a hunt for me.
Here's a picture of the whole crew:
Around the table starting at 12 o'clock: My dad, Dawson, Branson, Logan, Devin, Mark, me, my grandpa. At the bar on the right: Darren, Dillon. (I can't neglect my cousin Jesse who took the picture.)
Thanks guys for an excellent hunt, good food, and a ton of laughs... let's do this again next year!
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