Preparation for the Elk hunt 2011

I am getting really excited for the up coming elk hunt.  I have an 'any bull' tag for open bull areas in Utah.  My son also has the same type tag and my other son is going to come to the camp and help us.  I am truly blessed to have two great sons.  The adventure of elk hunting in the high mountains with my sons is what life is all about.  I am hoping my daughter-in-law and some of my grand-kids can come too.  Even if we don't get an elk it is a wonderful experience to all be there together in God's majesty and enjoy the crisp air and the smell of pines and quaking aspen trees.  The hunt opens Saturday October 8th!

I made an extra small blaze orange vest for my granddaughter who is just one 1/3 years old.  I hope she can come to elk camp again this year.  She came last year at age 1/3 and didn't complain.  This year she can walk so maybe we can scout out a 6X6 together?  {I wonder if she can clean an elk by herself or if she will have to get her dad to help her?}

BEAR HUNT 2011

It all started in January 2011 when my son called and told me to submit my name on-line for the spring black bear tag drawing in the Book Cliffs area of the Unitah mountains. I had actually never thought of hunting bears in Utah? in the spring? {Crap-o-rama there is snow up there, think about it -- I have been living in the desert for over 25 years.} My son had been putting in for the bear drawing for 8 - 9 years and thought he had a good chance to draw a tag with his 8 + bonus points and all. There were only 16 tags issued for this hunt. I think he wanted me to put in to let me feel part of the adventure even though neither of us though I had a snowballs chance in HECK to draw a tag. He was confident he would draw a tag and wanted me to come hunt with him. I am always up for a hunt even if I just got out of the hospital from a heart problem. I can hold binoculars and watch for bears as well as the next old man.

I got a major surprise when I received an e-mail from the drawing agency in Nevada that I had indeed drawn a spring black bear tag! I felt more lucky than a vampire working in the Red Cross blood bank. I called my son and told him I drew the tag. He cautioned me to not over react as I was probably reading the notice wrong, "really there was no way I could draw a tag with zero bonus points." Heck, lightning had struck and I was holding a five-iron up high in the air when it happened.

I immediately went into hunt planning mode. I was wondering what gear to take, how many sets of thermal underwear I could wear at the same time and still have mobility, and what caliber rifle I needed to handle the bruin. I decided I could wear only one pair of thermals and still get my pants to zip up. Check. I thought my good old "go-to rifle" a Ruger .338 Winchester Magnum with a Burris 4.5-14X 44mm scope combined with 225 gr. Hornady hand-loaded bullets would be the best set up for the job. This rifle has handled bison, kudu, oryx, red hartebeest, springbok, warthog, jackel, coyote, and Utah elk. I was confident it would do the job if I did mine. The Book Cliff bears usually are between 180 - 280 pounds so the bullet would be a soft tip expander loaded to about 2,800 feet per second muzzle velocity. Gosh, if the 250 pound bear could take a heart/lung shot with 3,500 + foot pounds of energy and still come over and bite me or make deep bear tracks on me I deserved it. I sighted the rifle in to be 2" high at 100 yards so I would be dead on at 200 yards and only 8" low at 300 yards. I felt black-bear-confident when exploding two liter pop bottles filled with water in three out of three shots at 250 yards. I also took a Ruger .30-06 light weight rifle for backup. When I travel more than 100 miles from home to hunt I always take a backup. The .30-06 has taken mule deer, antelope (prong horn), coyotes, jack rabbits, and various other critters. I know it shoots straight. I hand-loaded some new Hornady 165 gr. GMX bullets that left the 20" muzzle at 2,950 ft. per second. I figured if I had to walk very far it would be good to have a rifle that is 2 pounds lighter for me to carry. The bullet trajectory is almost the same as the .338 Win. Mag. so no big deal there.

We arrived at camp in a big time frog-drowning rain. The mud was seriously deep and all over the place. The roads, especially the hunt area roads, were like parallel Grand Canyons rutted to the max. I think I could smell chow mien cooking coming from the bottom of some of them. We were 4X4ing all over the place and saw several hounds men but no bears. I didn't see any bears hanging in camps or in the back of trucks. The bears are not idiots, they were staying warm and dry in their dens and we were the ones getting significantly mudded up and wet all day long.

We encountered a group of very fun hounds men my son knew and we hunted together for two days. We "rigged" up on some bears and let the dogs go investigate with their noses but didn't come on to any treeable bears. The third day my son had to go back to work so I went out on my own. While glassing a recent forest fire burn in the early morning I was approached by some more friendly hounds men that also knew my son. They offered to take me hunting with them. They had fine dogs and we crossed over lots of territory without getting onto a true bear. These guys were friendly as could be and I enjoyed the day with them. I like this bear hunting thing, even though I hadn't seen a bear yet after three all-day-longs looking. I was just enjoying the comradery and the beautiful country. These fellows let me off at my truck at the burn I was watching at around 3:30 p.m. They went back to their camp and home to work rather discouraged. I sat down to watch the burn as the afternoon progressed toward sundown.

After an MRE for lunch and dinner, linner, I thought of Tred Barta who says "90% of life is showing up." I thought I should move to a likely confluence of three canyons about 2.3 miles further east and watch for bears to come through as the sun goes down. I had taken a photo of a reasonable bear track near there the day before with my phone. (No cel. service but the camera is easy to carry in my pocket.) I parked on the road 100 yards east of bear track and changed from my .338 Win. Mag. to my light weight .30-06 for the up coming hike and maybe to change my luck. I walked very slowly into the convergence of canyons. I only moved a few yards at a time. I tried to not make any noise and stay in the darker treelines so I wouldn't be seen. It took me about 2 hours to make the hike from my truck 3/4 of a mile up the aspen filled canyons convergence. I was looking at all the spring grass, the abundant water flowing, and the beautiful trees when I noticed a blond or tan calf walking down a game trail about 100 yards ahead of me to the east. I did a double take and realized it was a bear. I looked for cubs and didn't see any. I watch the bear walk along biting some grass here and there not knowing I was in the area. He seemed to be pigeon toed as he walked and had the attitude "I'm Bad, oh yeah, I'm bad." The bear and I were face to face a football field away from each other. When he bent his head down for some grass I raised my rifle and put the cross hairs on his neck just behind his head knowing he couldn't see my movement. The wind was at my back my scent would betray me any second. I took steady aim and flipped off the safety. I was standing and hadn't even taken my backpack off. The rifle went off and it was a surprise to both me and the bear. The GMX bullet flew true and the bear collapsed. I lazered the range for my mental notes, 90 yards even. I walked to within about 30 yards of the downed bear and sat on a log on the side of the game trail. I was ready for him to get up and come bite me or run away or something. His eyes were open and I wasn't going to approach him quickly in case he had some more fight in him. I sat on the log and thanked my maker for allowing me to harvest this beautiful bear. I was impressed with the beauty of the area and the beauty of the bear's coat. It was so quiet. The sun was going down, I looked for the time and it was 7:09 p.m. I watched the bear until 7:30 p.m. or so then ever so cautiously approached him with my rifle fully loaded and off safety. I touched him on the eye brow and he didn't blink then I knew he was gone. WOW! I GOT A BEAR. It was a boar, and I think he weighed 230 - 250 pounds and was around 4 years old.

I got to work skinning and transporting the hide and skull to the road where my truck was parked. I got near the road at about 9:30 p.m. My son had come back to camp from work and not finding me at there came looking for me. He saw my truck and looked up the canyon a way and saw my head lamp working on bring the hide and skull down to the road. He hiked up to me and had a incredulous time recognizing I harvested a bear without bait and without dogs. Just lucky I guess. He helped me haul the bear trophies down to the truck and we went back to camp.

The next day we went out and he too found a bear but you will have to check out his blog for the details. http://www.huntingdax.blogspot.com/

Latest Photos from Beryl

I went to Beryl to unwind a moment, my heart was kind of acting up. I found the various vermin critters running from cave/burrow to field in raids on the alfalfa and the poor farmers profits. I just had to do something about the situation. I guess nothing does a heart better than some good old fashioned wholesale Chizzler carnage. A .22-250 can really make a difference on a varmint who likes to eat up the profit.

CHIZZLER HUNTING MINIMUM AGE??

Bounty Hunter 6 and I went to save agriculture again and had a great time doing it. I took my son and my grandson along. They had a great time. I think as soon as a kid can hold a rifle on his own and isn't in diapers he is old enough to hunt chizzlers with adult supervision. Actually, 7 - 8 years old is pretty good age for hunting varmints in a real controlled environment.

Chizzlers round 2

Bounty Hunter 6 and I went to hunt varmints again and this time we were prepared for the vermin. BH6 took his customized and super accurate heavy barrel 10-22 in .22LR and his Ruger KM77-17R in .17 HMR. I took my good old Marlin 781 in .22LR {about 30 years old} and my heavy barrel Howa .22-250. We were in the center of an alfalfa field with about a 30º field of view north and east from the center pivot for shooting. There were two other hunters in the same field parked about 35 yards to the south from us shooting in another 90º arch south and west in orientation. We arrived in the alfalfa field around 10 a.m. and proceeded to render harmless chizzlers for about 3 1/2 hours. We shot until our fingers were sore from reloading. We shot as fast as we could go trying to make every shot count. We used the .22LR's for the closer shots at around 20 - 70 yards and the longer distance rifles for shots beyond 70 yards. BH6 went through about 250 rounds of .17HMR ammo. and 200 rounds of .22LR. I used 60 rounds of .22-250 and around 200 rounds of .22LR ammo. All in all we connected with about 75% of our shots. The wind finally came up and started blowing around the .22LR and .17HMR bullets around so we decided to quit. {A guy can only dish out so much carnage in one day anyway.} I really enjoy hearing the maniacal laugh of BH6 through my ear plugs and ear muffs when he connects at great distance with his little .17HMR. We didn't stop for a snack or lunch, we just kept after our duty.

I already want to go back and do it all over again. I am sure there were plenty of chizzlers left for "seed". I have attached a photo of one burrows mound from my Marlin .22LR. The .17HMR and the .22-250 leave little to photograph. The crows and ravens were glad we had come to hunt varmints. They were circling the field as we drove out - Nature's Undertakers.

CHIZZLERS 2011

THURSDAY 3-10-2011 I wandered up to Beryl to see if the chizzlers were out of the snow yet. It was a reasonable day weather wise, about 60º in the afternoon and no wind. Bounty Hunter 6 was driving and we saw one or two of the little vermin on the side of the road while driving past Enterprise.

Bounty Hunter 6 was really disenchanted because he had only brought a .22 rifle in the back of his truck and no squirrel-o-matic. I had brought my heavy barrel .223 with 100 rounds of ammo. and a .22 pistol for the "sappers" that might try to get under the truck as we surveyed the fields. After visiting our pals, the squirrel farmers, we set up on a road leading through a hay field that hadn't showed green or started to grow this early in the year. There were chizzlers everywhere. I even got some with my .22 pistol. I fired about 50 rounds of .223 ammo. at chizzlers at 125 - 250 yards and connected about 75% if the time. Bounty Hunter 6 fired about 200 rounds of .22 ammo. at chizzlers between 10 and 125 yards and connected about the same percentage. In two hours of shooting and loading and shooting as fast as we could we did our best to clear the field of varmints. I don't think we impacted the quantity of chizzlers much. The ravens, crows and a few eagles were glad for the buffet we served though. The wind finally came up and Bounty Hunter 6's thumbs were sore from loading his 10-22 magazines so we came home. On the way home we were already making plans to come back next week to hunt.

I haven't hunted anything except paper targets, 2 liter soda bottles with water in them, and clay pigeons all winter and am so glad to have the varmints out. One farmer we talked to had just been spraying weeds in his fields and he commented he wished there were a "chizzler spray", I am so glad there isn't and I can do my best to do my duty to preserve agriculture with a firearm. Ya-Hoo!! for varmint hunting.

Elk Hunt 2010

My son and I had a plan to go elk hunting in the Unitah mountains this year. He and I have hunted there before and we know there are elk in the area, we just hadn't seen one. I think we were both ready for some success. I took my alpine camper and he used a friend's full-on 28 foot trailer. We made the camp in our usual spot and it was just beautiful, as it is every fall. This year was special because my son brought his entire family. Even little Quinn who is just 3 months old made her first trip to the elk camp. Dax's oldest son, Hunter, is 6 and he went out with the big boys this year in the early morning on opening day. My other son, Matt, came along and camped with me. It was so great as a father and grandfather to be with my boys hunting in such a beautiful area.

Saturday, opening morning, was great and aweful at the same time. Dax and Matt and Hunter were going to a spot where we knew there might be elk. They got close to their hunting position almost at first light. While they were walking toward their pre-decided location they heard a shot maybe 200 yards away. Sure enough, there were elk in the area and another hunter and his small son shot a 5 point bull very close to the area where they were headed. Dax is such a nice guy he helped the fellow clean and transport his elk to the road. The poor guy had shot the elk but hadn't the foggiest idea how to clean it. He was up to his elbows in blood and only had maybe a quart of entrails out of the elk carcass. {Sportsmen realize there are probably 20 quarts of entrails in an elk so the poor bugger had a long way to go.} Dax, Hunter and Matt didn't see any more elk that morning. Nor did I in another area kind of close.

We hunted the remainder of the opening day and in the evening. Dax's wife Tristie and the kids all went home around noon. Quinn had come ill prepared and only brought herself 5 diapers for the elk hunt. It was her very first elk camp so I don't harbor any preparation feelings toward her this year. That night after dark the big boys drove back to Roosevelt we spent the night in soft warm beds at Dax's home. Sunday morning Matt went home to Bountiful and his family. A day of rest and good food at Dax's was the order for Sunday.

Monday I returned to the elk camp as did Dax. He had to work at snagging a bear in someone's back yard in Vernal before he could come up to hunt. I hiked around in lots of likely spots and found lots of elk tracks and poop. I was getting excited as an elk had been shot in the area and I was finding lots of sign. Monday evening Dax and I went for a hike to a small meadow he had found on opening day. I sat in the western end of the meadow and tried to look like a bush in front of a tree. I didn't move and watched the meadow for movement and the trees surrounding it for elk passing through. Dax went on a short hike {100 yards or so} to the west and north of my position to look for elk and see if he could spot some mountain goats he had been watching on opening day. Around 6:45 p.m. I saw a 5 point bull elk walk into the meadow to graze. He was a fine looking bull for me. I moved my left arm ever so slowly to pick up my rifle. I put the crosshairs of my scope on his rib cage just behind the front shoulder. I clicked off the safety and pressed the trigger gently. The rifle went off and it was a surprise for me and Dax and the elk. The bullet went right where it had been aimed and the elk staggered and jogged off to the south east. I was shooting a .338 Win. Mag. so I doubted the elk could go far.

Dax came running when he heard the shot. He said he was maybe 20 yards away in the trees and thought it might have been me shooting -- then he smelled the gun powder and knew it was me. We both shoot the same rifle and ammunition so he knew the smell from practice sessions. I was not up on my feet yet and thought it wise to let the elk have a minute to lay down and bleed out. We went to where the elk was standing in the meadow to look for blood on the ground. Dax asked me, "you couldn't have missed could you?" I said "No here is some blood on the ground" and I started to track the elk drop by drop. The elk was bleeding lots so the trail of blood was not hard to follow even in the dimming sun light. Dax walked into the forest of trees thinking like a wounded elk. He walked down paths and between trees looking for an animal lying down. I was following the blood spoor. Last thing Dax said as he was entering the thick trees is "Where is George {the Namibian tracker} when you need him?"

I heard a shot ring out in the trees about 35 yards ahead of me. Dax had seen the elk lying down and his head was still moving so to prevent him from getting up he shot him again in the neck {to not waste any meat.} The elk was dead now. I walked quickly to Dax's position and we congratulated each other excessively. It is rare to harvest a 5 point bull elk on public land on an open bull tag. We have been hunting in this general area for three years for this guy and we finally got one! We took photos and were proud of ourselves in the dark. My shot had been right where I aimed and had trashed the elk's liver and some of his lungs. He was pretty closed to his last bite of grass when Dax saw him. He couldn't get up but Dax didn't know that and rather than risk chasing a wounded animal in the dark, he just put him down. Fine by me.

We field dressed the elk and cut it in half. We lashed a cross pole to two pine trees and hung the halves up to cool in the night. I think it was around 35º that night and the elk meat was fine hanging at that temperature. We didn't want to invite any bears to share in our harvest so we had to hang it up. We hiked back to our transportation and then drove to a small peak where we had cellular service and called family to let them know we had success.

We calmed down from the hunting rush and went to sleep around 11 p.m. We were up early, 6 a.m., to hunt our way back to the elk hanging and maybe get Dax an elk too. We didn't see any elk on the way in and we packed the elk out to a spur in the road in two trips. Dax did most of the packing. I did however carry out the backstraps and a front quarter. We loaded up and went back to camp to make another cross bar to hang the elk meat on. Dax had brought some game bags to protect from flies and the elk hung there rather well in the shade.

We hunted for another day and a half for Dax an elk. We didn't see any but were in an area where there are lots of elk tracks and poop. I know there are more elk in there. Dax is going back next week to hunt a day or two and pick up the trailer he left there. I packed up my camper and hauled the elk meat down to a processing plant late Wednesday. I got to sleep in a soft bed and eat real good food again at Dax's house. Thursday morning I started for home 400 miles away.

I look back on this as another of the greatest hunts of my life. My sons were with me, my daughter-in-law was there and the grandkids. PLUS, we got to harvest a nice 5 point bull. It doesn't get much better than that, thanks to the Lord.