I put the rifle away and went in to get dressed and eat a donut. {Donuts are the fast food of antelope hunters.} Dax and I were rather excited to be able to see a good antelope buck in camp, more or less, on the opening morning of the hunt. We went out to hunt around 6:30 a.m. We saw immediately several bucks gathering does for their harems. The rut was on and the antelope were not shy about being out in the open. Some bucks had accumulated over 12 does and were busy herding them around. I thought the bucks with the most does would be the largest horned. NOT SO. Many of the most "popular" bucks had rather small horns. They must be tough fighters to run off potential rivals. On opening day we saw just two other hunters in our area and maybe 120 bucks plus hundreds of does. I was amazed. We even saw one group of 8 bachelor bucks cruizing around together kind of at a loss for what to do.
After a lunch of camp made ramen noodles and turkey sandwiches we went out and continued our hunt. There seemed to be pronghorn bucks around every corner and just over every hill we went up. It was so fine to see so many animals. I was reminded of certain days hunting in Africa where there is actually game to be seen. We kept looking for the "big one." We would spot a nice horned animal and then get out the spotting scope for verification. Usually we would agree there is something to be desired and therefore not plan a stalk or even try to get a shot at the less than stellar animal. I was having a great time! We hunted around until dark and then went back to camp to eat dinner and rest. Dax made some chili and ham sandwiches and I was full and very content. We exchanged plans for the next day and went to sleep at 10:30 p.m. or so.
Nature called me collect again in the night. I got up to answer her at around 2:30 a.m. and was amazed at the clear sky and the number of stars shining down from the heavens. I was almost dizzied standing in the quaking aspens at the fact that I was such a small speck in the grand view of things. One lone guy hunting pronghorn under an infinite sky filled with millions and millions of worlds and stars out there. I am humbled at nature. I am so grateful I can enjoy this life and the wonders of it. I am blessed to have such a great life and a family to enjoy it with.
Wednesday morning I hoped to see the venturesome pronghorn again near camp and this time I was not going to let Dax talk me out of harvesting it. He didn't show up. Dang! We went off and drove along the oil exploration and development roads and saw again many bucks with does. We check out various animals with the spotting scope and never saw one big enough to shoot. We had lunch out of the cooler out in the field. We sat on lawn chairs and ate turkey and cheese sandwiches with chips and soda. I watched all around for pronghorn bucks and we saw some small guys but nothing real big. I am still pumped because we are seeing so many bucks. This area is great for me. I just wish I didn't have to wait four years to draw a tag.
Around 3 p.m. Dax saw a buck with four does that looked larger than the rest of the antelope already seen. I said check him out with the spotting scope. He was examined with the 60X scope at about 800 yards and he looked good enough to merit getting closer to re-examine. When we stopped the truck he took off herding his harem up a small hill maybe 100 yards tall and away from us to the north. We suspected he had been shot at the day before or that morning. We parked the truck and hiked over to the crest of the hill the antelope had run over. We kind of belly crawled the last 30 yards to not give away our position. Pronghorn have 6X eyesight and could see us easily if we were to stand up. We had both brought our rifles, the range finder, and the spotting scope for a closer look. We set up the scope and watched as the buck pronghorn had met a challenger buck pronghorn on the other side of the hill. The terrain kind off flattened out and there the two boys were posturing to see who gets to keep the four doe harem. We watched for some time. The does didn't know who to follow so they just stood there and watched the bucks stare down each other. Dax told me he thought the pronghorn we were after was not a shooter. I said "Fine, then I am going to shoot it as it is a big one." Then the competition between father and son set in and Dax re-evaluated the pronghorn and said "I am going to shoot." I agreed to spot for him on the shot.
The first round from the .338 Win. Mag. rifle was 3-4 inches high at the ranged 350 yards. When the projectile flew over the bucks back and hit the dirt behind the pronghorn he was startled and ran toward us. This was a tactic Dax had used in Africa with great success on a big old kudu bull. Scaring the animal closer for a second shot. The pronghorn buck ran to within about 300 yards and Dax nailed him in the left front shoulder the bullet exiting into the chest cavity and destroying the heart and lungs. DRT {Texas speak for DEAD RIGHT THERE}. The awestruck challenger buck scooped up the does and off ran the harem with a new master far to the north. Talk about a luck day for the challenger buck. Not to be shot and at the same time inherit a four doe harem.
There was no ground shrinkage of the buck as we walked over to claim the prize. However, there was no ground growth either. When we finally laid hands on the beast it was a big old guy with lots of mass. I indeed would have shot if Dax hadn't of. The buck was later measured at 78 4/8ths inches and the Boone and Crockett record book will take listings over 80 inches. It was a darn good pronghorn, just 1 4/8ths out of the record book! The hooks on the horns looked like deep sea fishing gaffs. Really cool.
When the alarm went off on Thursday morning we were both hammered. I said lets sleep some more and go out at 8 a.m. Dax in a semi-conscious state agreed and I set my alarm for 9 a.m. I knew there were lots of pronghorns waiting for us. When we finally did regain consciousness and went out side it was raining, foggy, and rather cold. I though crap-o-rama, what have I done waiting this long to shoot a pronghorn. I knew the wet weather was in to stay for a few days and I think we could only play cards for 24 to 36 hours before we went nuts. I said let's go see if there are any bucks waiting for us on top of the southern hills by the oil pumping areas. Dax agreed and we went off. The soil around our camp when wet from the rain was a greasy clay and and almost too slimy to exit our camp spot in the truck. Even with 4X4 drive it was scary to try and get to the road to start toward our intended hunting area. I knew we would never get out pulling the camping trailer with the slimy camp access road. We went hunting anyway.
We saw a small buck out by the road just out of camp. I was glad to see some thing huntable. As we drove to the south Dax saw a pretty nice buck kind of bed down 200 yards east of an oil pumping station. We stopped and looked at him with the spotting scope and he continued to lay there. Fortunately the majority of the oil trucks are white long bed pickup trucks. Mine also is white and long bed. So the pronghorns thought we were just some oil workers doing a job around the oil pumping station. I drove down an access road toward the oil pumping area. I drove slow like I was being paid by the hour. When we were within 75 yards of the oil pump house I stopped the truck and got out. I pretended to get some tools from the bed of the truck and came up with a .300 Remington Ultra Magnum rifle. The pronghorn stood up at 180 yards but didn't move. I looked at the oil pump equipment and carefully scanned for NO SMOKING, NO FIRE or FLAME signs. I didn't want to get cooked when I took my shot. No signs -- and the antelope just kept standing there looking at the truck. He was kind of like an oil company spy keeping track of how long it takes us to fix or adjust the oil pump equipment. Dax read the range on the range finder and forwarded to me the yardage and I held the cross hairs on his chest behind the right front leg. I squeezed the trigger and bam the antelope dropped to the shot. It was over before he heard the sound. It was a foggy day and we were lucky to have seen the antelope. I was even more lucky to have a shot at it. We loaded the pronghorn and took him to a less traveled area to clean him. I saved the skin and the meat went into the cooler with the other meat and ice.
I am so thankful for the opportunity to hunt with my son for a few days in Wyoming. I am grateful for the success we had. I am truly blessed to have this type of adventure.
