LAST EDITED ON Sep-15-11 AT 08:50PM (MST)[p]YAK: No way, man, it is always nice to meet MM'ers, especially when they are as complimentary as you were!
Ok, so here's the story:
The unit is a draw unit, it typically takes 4 points to draw. Now I do pay a trespass fee to access landlocked public land, so there is my admission to having an advantage.
I told the manager last time that I would like to bring my bow this time because the antelope are not super spooky and the terrain is made for stalking. He tells me that there happens to be a blind that has been left up for years; the antelope pay it no mind. Sounded like a plan to me! While I intended to get up there sooner than later, work made it later than sooner, but soon I was reaquainting myself with the area.
Did I mention how ridiculous with prairie carp this unit is? Here are just a few that I passed during the drive in.
Now as a rule, it is advised to find the biggest goats you can on the first two days, then find one bigger on the third. I had a hard time driving by this guy, cuz I love those prongs!
Boo!
Saw a bachelor herd of 9 bucks. That was pretty neat!
Then I saw this one. I spent over an hour trying to figure out how to get near him with a rifle, let alone a bow. He wasn't big by being dumb!
Finally, I saw one worthy of the bow and in a position to stalk:
Off I went, sneaky sneaky. I had the wind, I had a little knoll and gully to use to my advantage.
That little SOB did such a rope-a-dope on me!! He stayed just out of range and I swear to the Lord above that we circled that knoll 10 times. I could literally hear the merry-go-round song in my head. Finally I got within what I thought was 50 yards (turns out it was more like 80), popped up over the rise at full draw and what did I see?
Yup. Pooped in my general direction. Totally rude!
I found a huge group of goats with some smaller bucks, snuck up to about 30 yards and heard two bucks confront each other. I had no idea they can growl, but let me tell you- THEY GROWL PRETTY LOUD. Pretty neat stuff.
I ended day 1 with high hopes but concerned about the weather, it was supposed to get ugly on Day 2. The unit is part sand and part clay, and of course the blind I wanted to hunt was in the middle of an alkali basin. I had been warned about the road if it rained.
Now I had planned to truck camp. But the wind was howling more than normal, so a tent was out. I decided that instead of rocking to sleep on a hard truck bed, a motel was much nicer. WARNING to those who are yet to go to anywhere in Wyoming near gas/oil fields. The motels are booked full!! I was darn lucky to even get a room, and they were turning people away...in Rawlins!! So heads up fellas, plan ahead or you will be sleeping in your rig.
Day 2 dawned with howling winds (I know, it's Wyo. But it was worse than normal, trust me). The upper part of the unit looked to be slammed with rain. I headed toward the waterhole blind, and although it was drizzling, the main road looked OK. I parked and began the 1/2 mile walk in with my bow. As I got closer, I could see 3 bucks at what looked like a trough, and the blind close by.
So I began to sneaky sneaky toward the blind. The bucks saw me and spooked away, but not too far. So I kept on sneaky sneaky.
(you probably should sit down for the next part, I don't want to be responsible for any injuries)
I get to the blind, which turns out to be a plastic hut with windows. I guess it would be the only blind that would not blow away in Wyoming. Meanwhile, the goats just stand there. So I'm thinking that I'll get in the blind, let them settle down and see if they will come back in.
So I open the door while watching the goats, step forward and failed to notice that the blind was elevated, and I tripped on the threshold.
Thunk! Thunk thunk thunk! Ka-Splat. Faceplanted right into the blind.
Of course, the bucks ran away, because that dang green thing made an awful lot of strange noises!!
*sigh*. I'm such an idiot sometimes. After I put my nose back where it should be and made sure my chin was straight, I put up my chair, grabbed my book and settled in.
Pretty soon, a couple groups of antelope came in. The first two bucks were small, and did not present a shot anyway. The third buck was a shooter, but drank right at the trough, again no shot.
Then I found out who rules this waterhole. Mr. Badger. You should have seen the goats scatter when he marched out of his hole like a Master Sgt and headed in. I nearly died laughing, the look on the does faces' was priceless.
Then another group of does came in, and one old biddy flat out knew I was there. She practically came over and stuck her face inside the windows. It's like she noticed the windows were open for the first time in years or something. She and the others milled around for an hour. I had to remain perfectly still because of HER, and my position was totally jacked up. I thought I was going to keel over with the cramping in my back and legs.
Then a single buck came in at a trot. As he got closer, I realized that he looked pretty darn good.
He ran into the does, and without so much as a how do you do, herded them off and out of there.
I went back to my book. A few minutes later I looked back out the window. HOLY MOLY, THERE'S A BUCK OUT THERE!! I don't even know where he came from, but he was headed straight for the trough.
I very slowly picked up my bow and nocked an arrow. He kept coming in, and it looked like he might go to the trough, which would mean I was SOL.
I was amazed to see him look straight at the blind, then turn from the trough and go slightly downstream. He wasn't huge. The thought of me passing on a not-huge bull that presented himself to me in this same manner crossed my mind. I never had another opportunity and kick myself every morning for turning down what God put before me.
The buck put his head down in the water....and his eyes were in the green stuff. I ranged him at 33 yards, drew back and let fly.
I have never heard an arrow hit an animal, so when I heard the watermelon thump, I thought I'd missed. Then I saw him tearing to my right, with my arrow buried to the fletching in his side.....and it looked to far back, but gushing blood.
I was sick. Totally sick. I realized that I had never even practiced shooting off a chair, and certainly not in some wierd torqued position. Now this animal is going to suffer because of my ineptitude in preparation.
All this was rocketing through my mind as the buck slowed to a walk, looked back as if to say "what was that noise". I was thinking I should be capping my muzzleloader and put him out of his misery before he began some long death walk when he suddenly did the death-flip backwards.
And died 40 yards from his last drink. I have never been close enough to an antelope as it died to see the hair stand up as it's soul leaves, but I had heard about it. Now I had seen it, and it was humbling to see him go.
view from the blind to the waterhole. He was drinking from the mud puddle beyond the trough:
View from the blind to his final rest.
When I rolled him over to remove the arrow, dark blood poured out. I'm assuming that would be a liver shot.
The wind made it a little difficult in the self-pics, but I managed to get a few good ones.
Thus ended Wyo 2011. It rained like a you-know-what today, so I am very very thankful to have taken this, my first game animal, with a bow.
He's quite beautiful and was in fine condition. He has that classic heart-shape that I love, and even has ivory tips. Some extras give him special character.
I shall be practicing daily some wierd angles and positions from now on.
I deliberately left a tape home, I think I may be obsessed with score....buuut....He doesn't look it, but he really does go 14 inches. Now that a few friends have seen him, they think he'll make Pope and Young. Does anyone know the minimum? Is the scoring system the same as B&C?