Hunting stories – Green Lake Chronicles

Viewers Choice Article

October 4, 2016 michaeloutdoorLeave a comment

It has been an exciting past few weeks for the Green Lake Chronicles crew and I am happy to share this first hand story about an awesome hunt Walter experienced in mid-September. Walter is a hunting veteran from Catskills, NY, who has harvested many great animals in his day, but this was going to be his first adventure chasing elk with a bow. Enjoy!

“My first elk hunt was going to be an archery season trip to the Bitterroot Mountains of Montana. Our son, Max, had taken a teaching job in Darby four years earlier and had spent many hours afield learning the ways of Wapiti , the Indian name for elk.

Recently retired, my wife, Jeanne, and I loaded up the truck camper and headed for Big Sky country. Mid-September, prime time for the elk rut, was our target date to be in the mountains. We set up camp in a valley meadow by a small trout stream several miles back in on a National Forest Service dirt road. I spent the first few days hiking ridges looking for elk sign and acclimating to the higher elevation. A freshly-used wallow presented itself on one such hike. “This would be a good place to sit,” I told myself, based on the warm, sunny days we were experiencing. I sat two mornings there in my blind and saw nothing. It was now day five and I was starting to feel a little discouraged with locating elk in the vast wilderness, though I had read that elk are where you find them.

“Tomorrow will be an adventure, no matter what,” Jeanne said, reminding me that Max would be my hunting guide for the weekend. I had mixed feelings on that. Max knew of some great spots and could “talk” elk, but his reputation for death-march hiking scared me. I slept fitfully that night, reviewing my gear and rehearsing the perfect shot in my mind.

“Dad, wake up. It’s time to go!” came a voice from the door of the Bear Den, a guest room Max had recently built. It was a clear, frosty, full-moon morning as we drove up into the mountain pass. “We’ll be hiking up this drainage today,” he said, pointing to a trailhead as he parked at the end of the gravel road. We worked our way up the trail in the darkness with the moonlight providing enough illumination to see the rocks and blowdowns in our path. A cool, balsam scented breeze down drafted from the Continental Divide above.

After almost an hour, we veered off toward the first in a series of north facing alpine meadows. All of a sudden, I felt this supernatural sense of consciousness come over me: the smells in the air stronger, the colors brighter, and a feeling of calm and heightened awareness. “Something is going to happen today. Something good, ” I thought. I have had this feeling of the presence of God in the deer woods before and knew not to dismiss it.

Max stopped, took off his pack and said it was time for us to ready our bows As I removed my pack, he hushed me: “Listen!” A cow’s mew, then another, broke the silence from the lodgepole timber above the first meadow. We scrambled to put on our releases, nock arrows, and get the calls ready. He instructed me to take a stand between him and the elk while he called to them from behind. I quietly moved up to the bottom edge of the meadow and concealed myself in the trees.

Max started cow calling and then I heard the clashing antlers of sparring bull elk. Max kept up the cow calling but, after hearing the real cows drifting away, resorted to bugling. That did the trick! I saw a bull appear in the distance at the top of the steep meadow. Another blow on the bugle call brought two bulls trotting down toward me. “This is it,” I said to myself, still calm from the feeling that came over me just a short while before.

As the first bull disappeared behind some shrubs, I drew my bow and estimated the yardage. He reappeared, still moving toward Max, and I followed him with my 20-yard pin. Just as I found the spot behind and below the shoulder, he stopped. I touched off the release. The arrow flew true and buried to the fletching in his chest. The bull ran off into the timber 50 yards away and fell.

I ran down to Max who was running to me and met with an emotional embrace.

Max expertly dressed, skinned, and quartered the 5 x 5 bull, readying the excellent meat for the two backpack trips back to the truck. By noon we were back on the road to Darby where the elk quarters would hang for five days in Max’s cooler and be butchered into fine fare for the table.

I am a blessed man!”

mt-elk2016 — Bearman and his father, Walter, with a great Montana archery bull

Thank you for the great story Walt. I welcome others to share stories of exciting memories afield. Email me at greenlakechronicles@gmail.com with your story along with a few pictures and you could be the next Viewers Choice Post! Thank you for reading. Be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for more great pictures!

-Michael

Hiking/Hunting stories/National Park/National Park Service/Uncategorized

An Adventure to Remember- Lion Attack

February 3, 2016 michaeloutdoorLeave a comment

Mountain Landscape — Rock ledge where the Lion attacked

Our Greenlake Chronicles celebrity, Bearman, called me on Sunday with a hell of a story. We talk weekly, to catch up, swap stories and 9/10 times Bearman has something better to chat about than myself. Living in Montana at the base of a mountain is definitely more exiting than a crowded apartment in Downtown Boston! Please enjoy his first hand account of his Mountain Lion attack!

“The morning started off as a normal midwinter Sunday in search of sunshine, exercise and time away from the norm. This adventure satisfied each of those needs. Shortly after sunrise, my dog Angel and I began our trek up the mountain. Two lung and leg burning hours later we reached top of the ridge where we would drop down and loop around the south side slopes in hopes of finding shed deer antlers. As many shed hunting days go, we found nothing, but did stumble on the unexpected.

To gain a better look at the terrain below I headed towards an abrupt rock outcropping. Underneath was a thick patch of mountain mahogany and tall grass among the otherwise bare sage hillside. It was almost noon and the sun beat strong enough to start melting the skiff of snow laid down the night before. Suddenly Angel hit the brakes hair on her back stood up tall. Her hears alert and tail straightened told me something was definitely up. Cautiously approaching the edge, I drew from its holster my Ruger Superblackhawk revolver chambered in .44 Magnum. I came to the edge and saw nothing below. “Maybe there is a bear den down there” I thought to myself. “I’ll sit here for a few minutes and look around, then drop down to check things out.” I’ve always wanted to see a bear sleeping in its den. Pistol back in its holster I picked up my other piece of equipment for the day’s adventure; my new 12×50 Vortex Diamondback binoculars to survey the landscape. Meanwhile, Angel had detached from my side and wandered to the left side of the rocks twenty feet away, separated by a narrow, near vertical crevasse descending to the thicket below.

In the blink of an eye, a mountain lion bounded up through the rocky crevasse towards Angel, poised to attack! With little time to think, I drew my pistol again from it holster and cocked the hammering in one motion as I watched the lion twenty feet away as it approached my dog. Lips curled and teeth showing, I knew that it one thing on its mind. The cat, now eye level to me, crested the edge within feet of angel when I fired. It quickly wheeled around and bombed down through the crack in the rocks and I fired again. Moments later I saw the cat sprinting over the ridge below. Heart thumping I spotted movement in the mahogany below. The reason for the predator’s aggression was two or three large kittens. The young cats worked their way over the hill and were soon out of sight. Looking beyond I saw the big cat working its way through the burnt timber across the draw atop hard packed snow.

The lion appeared to move along uninjured, though I always follow a trail beyond the shadow of a doubt. Sure enough, my bullet made contact. Angel and I tracked sparse blood for nearly half a mile through snow and bare ground until blood dissipated and the encounter became un-walkable for two legged creatures. Confident that the lion was not fatally wounded, and far from my location, I sat down to refuel on food and water. Sun began to peak out from behind the clouds which dusted snow on the big mountains across the valley. Elk were feeding on grasses on the adjacent hill. In that moment I glanced at my revolver and to my hiking partner Angel bedded in the snow and panting. “Guess I won’t be leaving my gun at home any more” I thought to myself. Thankful for a memorable day I stood up, gave a whistle, and said, “Let’s roll Angel, on to the next adventure!”

Awesome story Bearman! Mountain lions are tough animals and I’m sure this one will walk away with a small scratch and a bit wiser. Be sure to check out more stories and pictures on our Facebook and Instagram pages. Thank you for reading!

-Michael

Fall/hunting/Hunting stories

South Dakota Pheasant Hunting

November 24, 2015November 24, 2015 michaeloutdoorLeave a comment

Group Pheasant Shot — Northern Plains Outfitters

It’s hot and heavy into whitetail season here in the Northeast, but there are some other awesome hunting adventures available during the fall. Chronicles pro-staffer, Shawn D wanted to share a great hunting story from his recent South Dakota Pheasant trip. Please enjoy his written account from his traditional bird hunt out west.

“South Dakota is a magical place where the pheasants thrive and shot gun barrels stay hot! Two weeks ago, I went on the annual South Dakota Pheasant hunt (PheasantFest) for the 12^th year running. I flew out of Boston Wednesday morning to be picked up by my Dad and the crew in Minneapolis where we drove another 4.5 hours to Northern Plains Outfitter in Athol, South Dakota. (http://www.northernplainsoutfitters.com)

If you have ever been to South Dakota, you will know that it is the pheasant capital of the United States. This year there was a projected 40% increase in pheasant being tracked across the state. With a warm and dry spring and summer, the local guides said that they were seeing third hatch amongst the pheasant population. Which I can attest to, seeing plenty of young or immature birds as well as seasoned birds with long tails and spurs.

Overall, it’s a great experience to be out with friends and family. There was plenty of CRP (Conservation Reserve Program) grasslands where pheasant like to nest and live without having too much pressure from local predators such as coyotes. There was still some standing feed corn where you can let your dog’s run loose popping them out as they feed as well. We have three German Shorthair pointers (which in my opinion is the best upland bird dog money can buy) that have great hunting instincts in their blood.

My recommendations if you are planning your next pheasant hunting trip out in the Midwest, is bring plenty of guys to block and wing, plenty of shells, and some good bird dogs to find and retrieve your game. Having enough guys walking in a straight line prevents the birds from running behind you and having blockers at the end of the field prevent them from running out before they flush. Be sure to zig-zag as well if you don’t have enough to cover every corner they might be sitting.

Lastly, BE SAFE! Know where everyone is at all times and communicate. Everyone will be fully armed and the last thing you want is to load someone up with a bunch of bird shot. Especially if you are getting close to the end of the field, the blockers will be very close and you want to make sure your shots are above 45 degrees and not in the line of fire of someone else. Remember, you can always find another bird, you can’t replace your friends face if acting recklessly. This will ensure a successful hunt and loads of fun for shooters and dog handlers.”

Thanks for the great article Shawn. If you have any questions about this post, please email us at greenlakechronicles@gmail.com. Be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for more pictures!

-Michael

Fall/hunting/Hunting stories/Uncategorized

Viewers Choice Article

November 18, 2015 michaeloutdoorLeave a comment

Kuppens-8 — Chris with his biggest archery buck to date

I started this site as a platform for folks to enjoy outdoor articles, post cool pictures of their pursuits and to share their adventures for everyone to enjoy. I am pleased to post our first “Viewers Choice Article,” a first hand perspective written by one of our followers. Chris is a die hard bow hunter from Massachusetts, where the huntable land is limited and big bucks are scarce. You definitely earn your stripes hunting in the bay state. Please enjoy his recap of this awesome hunt.

“On 11/5 (a Thursday) I took a ½ day off from work and Packed my Climbing Stand deep into a Swamp. I found a hill located in the middle of the swamp made up mostly of Pine Trees. I was drawn to the spot by the aerial photos I have seen of the green trees surrounded by what looked to be swamp. There was a large Holly tree (30-40 feet tall) located in the middle of the Pine cluster. I noticed the Holly had 2 scrapes under it and decided I should set up on the edge of the Pines but within 20 yards of the Holly Tree. The wind was blowing out of the South West. I set up on the Eastern Edge of the Pines and saw a large bodied deer come in at the very last moment of the day. It was too far away and too dark to shoot. I left my Climber locked to a tree and decided to go back on Saturday and sit all day.

Saturday’s wind was West/ North West so it was still going to be in my face and keeping the Pines and Holly Tree upwind from me. I hiked into my stand site at 5AM. I set up 2 Scent bombs about 20 yards away from me at the 10 and 2 o’clock positions. Sunrise was 6AM and by 7AM a small button buck came into the area. He stayed for about an hour or so offering me several shot opportunities under 10 yards. I took a video of him walking under my stand. It was difficult having him around because I needed to sit very still as he was never more than 50 yards away but I felt it was a good sign that he was in the area. I debated getting down and walking out for lunch but decided to stay. The walk was simply too long and I figured I wouldn’t make it back to this spot in the afternoon and I wanted to see that big bodied deer again from Thursday night.

Around 11:15 the button buck returned. He stayed for at least an hour. He was eating mushrooms from under the pine needles. By 1 in the afternoon he was gone and I was getting really tired. It wasn’t worth the effort to shoot this small deer although I considered it several times. My hope was that he would make another buck come in and run him off. I was starting to second guess myself… I was thinking maybe the button was hanging in this area because he knew he was safe here as the other deer had moved into another area. I was worn out and discouraged. By 3:30 the Button had returned again. I figured I would spend the last hour and a half frozen up in my stand by this small deer.

At 4:30. I heard the bushes behind me and to the right crashing. I then heard the distinctive sound of a grunt. I checked the Button Buck’s last location and he was nowhere to be found. It seems like he moved on. I thought to myself that he may have been looking back in my direction all day waiting for this buck to come chase him off. I grunted and the deer started barreling in. It was a large body and I knew right away that it was something I would want to take a shot at. It was moving as if it was going to pass behind my tree. I could tell it was a Buck. A large buck probably at least 6 points, but maybe more. My heart was pounding. I started turning around to face the tree in order to be able to shoot at the deer. He was 20 yards away at my 4 O’clock position heading as if he was going to pass right behind me. Somehow he either heard me or saw the movement because he looked right up . He stared at me for over a minute. My legs we tired and my heart was absolutely pounding. My heart was beating so hard I thought the deer was going to hear it. After a full minute of both of us frozen he finally started moving forward. He took 2 more steps and came downwind of one of my scent bombs. The Buck turned 90 degrees and headed straight to the scent. The Westerly wind blew the scent right across his nose.

There were two trees that were going to come between me and the Buck’s line of sight. When he moved behind the first tree I got into position. When he moved behind the second tree I drew my bow back. I was so nervous at this point I think I tried to shut my right eye instead of my left eye to line up the shot. He stopped behind that tree for what seemed like a minute. My heart was still exploding in my chest. He took one step and only his head appeared beyond the tree. I held my bow back until he started walking forward. I let the arrow loose and watched it fly towards the deer. I could see the lighted knock heading for the deer. The shot looked like it was back and a little high. I was immediately nervous that it was a bad shot. I watched the Buck run off with his tail down. A few seconds later I heard a “Snort Wheeze” from the same area the first buck came from. I grunted and the 2^nd buck started tearing a tree up, snorting, and stomping his feet. I knocked another arrow and got ready to shoot at the second buck if he came into view. The second buck ran out of the swamp about 50 yards away from me. He was large but seemed smaller than the one I shot at. He trotted up in the direction of the first buck. When the 2^nd buck got to the point where I lost sight of the first one I heard a lot of crashing sounds. I wasn’t sure what happened.

I climbed down the tree and went over to the spot where I shot the deer. I found the arrow and it was covered with blood and hair. I walked about 10 feet and found a few drops of blood on a log. I decided to back out and give the deer a few hours. I decided to go back into the woods at 9PM to look for the deer. We picked up the blood trail. And followed it for about 40 yards. The buck was pumping blood out of both sides and the trail was easy to follow. We found him piled up right in the area I had heard the crashing earlier.

To me the Buck was the bigger than I had imagined. He was a 3.5 year old 8 Pointer that dressed at 190 Pounds. His rack was solid and very symmetrical. He weighed a TON. We had difficulty moving him around at first. I knew it was going to be a long walk out. After field dressing the buck and a few photos we started dragging him out. It took us over an hour to drag him through the swamp and out to the road. I plan on mounting this deer so I can relive this awesome hunt for a long time. Great hunt!”

Awesome story Chris, thank you for sharing with us. I welcome others to share their stories of great memories afield. Email me at greenlakechronicles@gmail.com with your story along with a few pictures and you could be the next Viewers Choice Post! Thank you for reading. Be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for more great pictures!

-Michael

Fall/hunting/Hunting stories

EAT. HUNT. SLEEP. REPEAT

November 16, 2015 michaeloutdoorLeave a comment

Hillari with her first deer with the bow. Great tag teamed effort to put this one down.

What a great weekend to be in the woods! For the second weekend in a row, I headed out to upstate NY with my good friends Mike and Hillari to chase rutting bucks. We left Boston Thursday night and arrived with high hopes and some anxiety (horrible weather on the forecast)! The weekend before, I stopped in the areas on my way home from our southern tier hunt, to hang trail cameras and scout. In four days, I had three different bucks on camera and some very patterned does. The weather forecast was high winds, around 20 MPH and occasional freezing rain. Not the best conditions to sit all day, but the rut was in full swing and deer would still have to move. I had already filled my archery buck tag, so I was hunting for meat. We hunted public property on Friday and I shot a doe walking from a thick bedding area to the hardwoods. It was crossbow season and I wanted to get everything on film.

My biggest goal this year was to capture my hunts with my go-pro!

It wasn’t the best angle, but I had a good opening and a steady rest. I let the deer sit for a few hours after my shot, then we tracked it over half a mile, eventually jumping it one time. The deer did not look hurt at all and I think my arrow passed through no mans land missing the vitals completely. Looked for it the next day and lost the pin pricks of blood. I hate leaving the blood trail or knowing I wounded a deer, but I know this deer had just a flesh wound (because of how far it ran and how little it bled). It would live to see another day, smarter and more cautious now!

The weather continued to be a nasty slap in the face, but we hunted hard and Mike had luck shooting a nice doe on Saturday evening. The wind was still blasting, but his efforts on the all day sit, paid off with backstraps. I was able to film some of the short track job! There is nothing like seeing a white belly in the dark. There were a ton of deer walking the thick edges of the property that night and Mike made a clean, quartering away shot at 25 yards. He did the right thing and let the deer sit for a few hours. After dinner we quickly picked up the blood trail and found her 40 yards from where he shot.

Sunday Morning looked like a great weather wise with minimal wind and cold temperatures. We were hunting a piece of private land that I had permission on that abutted the NYS State Forest. Great area with sloping hills, thick brush transition areas and overgrown fields. That same day, my high school buddy was hunting his land about five miles away. He had some great deer on camera and has been managing the property for a few years. His goal was to only shoot racked bucks (no forks, spikes or small 6pts. A few days earlier, a nice shooter was grunting up a storm chasing a doe. This love struck 8pt was making a loud racket, MAKE SURE YOUR VOLUME IS UP! His Wildgame trail camera caught the whole thing.

My high school buddy ended shooting this nice buck on Sunday night. The deer owned the area and responded to one of his grunts. He made a nice shot at 20 yards and the deer piled up after a few steps. It’s great to see deer management pay off.

That same night, my fiance and I left the area to head back home while Mike and Hillari remained in the tree. Hillari had a nice encounter with a buck, but her arrow missed the deer completely after glancing off some small tree branches. Being a bow hunter, we often have heartbreaks in the woods. Hillari had been hunting hard for a few days and seemed defeated after this unfortunate miss. Her persistence would pay off a few hours later!

Mike and Hillari shot the same deer! It was a great hunt and now they have this amazing and unique memory together.

I got a call from Mike at 4:45PM, frantic and excited. He said he shot a big 8pt a few minutes before and the deer actually ran right up to where Hillari was sitting. She made a clear shot at 18 yards then watched the buck disappear in some thick cover. Hillari and Mike have never killed a buck with a bow and were hard pressed on filling their tags this weekend. How cool is it that they both shot the same deer! Tag team style, the couple put their time in the stand and during the last half hour of legal shooting time, a buck tag was punched. She did not see the deer go down, so did the right thing in quietly getting out of the woods and let the buck sit for a few hours. They ended up finding the deer a little farther than expected in the early morning.

This weekend was one of the best in a long time. We had some great adventures in the woods and harvested some quality animals. Fall is my favorite time of the year and even though I didn’t punch a tag, I enjoyed seeing my close friends have success. Thank you for reading and be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram page for more great pictures.

-Michael

Fall/hunting/Hunting stories

The Montana Success Story- Part Two

October 30, 2015 michaeloutdoorLeave a comment

Bearman with a nice Montana bull on a do it yourself public land hunt

Yesterday I posted the first part of the Montana Success Story where we read about “Bearmans” first mulie harvest. The story only gets better! Please enjoy “Bearmans” recount of this awesome Elk hunt.

“Elk season is a mythical window of time that calls to me all year. From the day the season ends until the day it opens again I am constantly hiking, scouting, and dreaming of my adventures for the season to come. This season in particular has been a roller coaster ride to say the least, and not just the kid’s roller coaster, but the really high go upside down kind of thing. September bow season is my favorite time of year without a doubt. The weather is perfect, scenery is fantastic, and the bulls are singing. As far as I am concerned there are few things more pure and exciting than a bull elk screaming at daybreak on a calm fall morning. Fortunately, I got into that familiar scenario multiple times in different locations throughout the season. Not only did I hear elk, but I had some close calls; really close; head to head at 3 yards close. Talk about an exhilarating experience. Then there was the lowest of lows where an animal was wounded and not recovered. Even after all possible efforts have been taken to ensure that the animal is not immediately dead; the possibility always exists that he will die eventually. Anyone who has hunted long enough knows this awful feeling and can just hope that the animal heals from a non-lethal shot. Needless to say, bow season ended with mixed emotions, some great memories, and lessons learned.

A week between seasons and it was rifle time. After five weekends in the bow hunting woods with no meat to show for it, I was ready. My rifle was dialed in, shooting a clover leaf at 100 yards and four inch group at 300 yards. Opening day I returned to my favorite bow hunting area and saw a few elk but from over a mile away and no way to get in on them in time. The following day I put my rifle to the test on my first mule deer buck which performed flawlessly. Very satisfied to have a buck tag filled, I felt less stress to pursue a bull until the snow started sticking. With one week between daylight savings time, coaching Junior High football after teaching Shop at the high school, I decided to take some friends out hunting and try to have them fill their deer tags. The plan was to put them on what I thought to be the better spots and I would circle below and try to push some deer in their direction. So with no real intention on hunting too seriously I set off to break in my new boots and exercise my rifle. A few miles in I jumped some does that ran back uphill towards my hunting companions. At that time I stopped and contemplated the strange gut feeling to change my course that I have felt on many successful hunts before. Without hesitation I turned off the trail and slowly wandered down through an old logged out area of timber with some old ponderosa pine trees mixed with new fir tree undergrowth standing about ten feet tall. I still hunted down through the area until I broke a stick under my boots when I stopped. Looking out about 150 yards on the edge of the cut I spotted something tan behind a small fir tree. Bringing up my scope I could see the definite outline of an elk butt and hind leg frozen in place listening to the stick I had just broken. The elk had not yet seen or smelled me so I cow called a few times to make me seem like one of the herd. Sure enough the elk turned his head showing me that he was in fact a bull. A few minutes later he started to walk again. Now I could see that he was in fact a legal bull with at least a four inch brow tine but had no shot opportunities through the timber. The first available shooting lane was nearly 100 yards in front of were the elk was headed. If he stepped out there it would be roughly 225 yards and I would be ready. Three cows seemed to appear out of nowhere right in that spot and looked very uneasy. The wind began to hit my neck and the cows must have got a little whiff of me and turned back into the timer out of sight. Meanwhile the bull was approaching the opening where I would hopefully be able to make a shot when he stopped to look at his cows. I thought, “Oh no he’s going to follow those cows and be gone for good.” He only needed to take two more steps but he looked like he wanted to change his mind so I cow called one more time to get his attention. It did the trick. I was sitting down with rifle rested on my knee. He looked back uphill out of curiosity and when he walked two more steps to get a better look I sent a bullet down range. Now twenty cows joined him and were running through the clearing. I racked a round, found him in the scope, fired and watched him drop. I could still see him alive with his head up so I quickly finished him off with a neck shot. My after work tromp through the woods had just ended with a magnificent creature on the ground.

Well it didn’t end there. Anyone who has ever killed and elk knows that the work really starts when the shooting stops. I got it gutted out as the sun finally sank behind the mountains and headed back to the truck to meet the other two and tell them the story. There’s a song that says, “…you find out who your friends are”, but I think Tracy Lawrence left out a verse about finding a pack crew when it’s miles from nowhere and dark out. Being the lucky guy I am it only took an hour and there were four of us with bikes and pack frames ready to roll down an old gated road. The date was October 27^th with clear skies, temps in the low 30s, and a big full moon. For me, the memories of the pack out have been comparable to that of some of my best hunts. Four guys brought together by the common love of hunting headed through the woods with mountain bikes and only the light of the moon casting shadows through the trees. The whole time my dog Angel running beside us as part of the team. This if for sure a memory that I will not soon forget. Tagged out and time to make summer sausage!”

Awesome story Bearman, thank you for sharing. As I said before, this guy is a great example of how to work hard, scout often and put your time in the woods to harvest some quality animals. Thank you for reading and be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for great pictures.

-Michael

Fall/hunting/Hunting stories

The Montana Success Story- Part One

October 29, 2015 michaeloutdoorLeave a comment

Bearman with his first Montana Mule Deer

I‘ve learned a lot about hunting and persistence from my buddy “bearman” and since his move to Montana, he has developed to become one of the most successful hunters I know. The guy puts in serious time and loves to walk miles in search of untouched hunting grounds. This past Sunday to Tuesday was his greatest hunting accomplishments to date. Please enjoy Bearman’s awesome recount of his first Mule deer.

Bearman Close up Mulie — Long pack home!

“It was a late start to the morning following a strenuous death march the previous day in search of elk. With high hopes I traveled from my home in Darby down the Bitterroot Valley to meet up with long time hunting buddy Mike Kaplan to cover some new country. For me, today’s mission was to find a mule deer buck in the high country for the area which I had drawn a permit for. Deer numbers in this area are low, so to see any is a success in itself, but for us the thrill of new adventures keeps us hiking on. At mid-morning on an overcast 55 degree calm day we found ourselves hiking higher and higher through steep rock, burn, and timber. Several miles and several hours into our hunt we came over a ridge to find nine mule deer does feeding across the opposite hillside about 200 yards out; but no bucks to be found. After watching them for a while, we let them feed over the next ridge before making our next move. A short trek later we were on top of some radical rock formations overlooking the same group of deer in the next draw over. With the afternoon slowly ticking away, and near to our estimated turn around location, Mike decided it was time to head back to the truck. At that point my genetically adventurous spirit took over and told me to look over just one more ridge. Many times this voice leads me to that ridge or hill, and then another, and another, and another, with an end result of nothing but an exhausted Max; but not today. Today Mike split back towards the truck as I went one more ridge over. As I crept out of a heavily timbered gully into a decade old burn and there caught the glimpse of two mule deer butts gently easing over the horizon line 300 yards in front of me. With anticipation high, my legs and lungs carried me quickly through deadfall and standing tree skeletons uphill in the direction that the deer were moving. Breathing heavy and soaked with sweat I approached a giant boulder at the edge of a sharp drop off. Many hours in the field had me prepared to be ready at an instance upon reaching the edge, so with my Remington 7mm-.08 at the ready and pack unstrapped, I peered over the edge of the large boulder. Immediately I could see ears and eyes focused on me at me 80 yards straight ahead, along with a clearly visible antler! I had one shooting lane about four feet wide with his head, neck, and most of his front shoulder visible. Although I prefer to sneak a bullet in behind the shoulder as to not waste valuable meat, at this moment I knew I had no other options. Lying down with the rifle now steadied on a large rock, my crosshairs settled on the deer’s shoulder. A split second later my ears were ringing from the shot, the empty casing was rolling down through the rocks, and the buck I had just shot at turned into two muley bucks bounding off through the burn and headed deeper into a hell hole of a canyon below.

Not knowing which buck I had shot at, or being presented another shot at the deer, I watch one bound over the hill on the horizon as the other bailed off left and crashed out of sight. Heart pounding I headed to where the deer were standing when I took the shot. No blood, no hair, and an uneasy feeling setting in, I began to walk downhill where I had heard the one deer crash through the deadfall. Within moments, my worries were turned to feelings of joy when I saw the fur on his large body piled up against a tree. My first mule deer buck had only run 40 yards with a well-placed 139 grain Hornady to the boiler maker. I quickly used my one bar of cell service to call Mike and utilize his concrete crew strength to help me with the pack out. A few hours later we were loading the buck in the truck and soaking up the memories from anther great adventure. It is not the kill itself but the hard work, beautiful country, adventure, time with old friends, lean meat, and memories that last forever that keep true hunters like us headed to the mountains year after year.”

-Bearman

Thanks for your awesome recount of this great hunt Bearman. Folks, be sure to check out Green Lake Chronicles tomorrow for part of of the Montana Success Story! Thanks for reading and be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for great pictures.

-Michael

Category: Hunting stories