Draw Results

My luck continues . . .  I drew no elk tag, no deer tag, and no bear tag for Utah. Crap-O-Rama 💀

Perhaps, I will be better favored by the stars on my pronghorn draw in Wyoming. I will buy a spike elk tag for Utah when and if they come available.

I am getting OLD. My years for hunting big game are limited. Doesn’t the State of Utah know this?  Come on draw center staff — give a senior citizen a break.

Just one little deer tag :

sample deer desired

Maybe an extra elk tag:

Just an old man wanting to spend some time out in nature this fall. . .

VERY DRY YEAR . . . . again

I have gone to hunt chizzlers four times in Iron County, Utah in 2020.  All four trips have been the CRAPS compared to other years or current expectations.

I am so displeased to say there are few -- to almost zero chizzlers eating the farmer's crops in 2020. Farmers kind of love this bonus in income from the estimated $10,000,000 in agricultural products often lost to vermin in the fields. (Utah State University did a study a few years back to estimate the $ value of crops lost to vermin in the fields in the Beryl area)

Bounty Hunter 6 and I went up in later March and we saw a few and shot at them.  We finished up a three hour hunt in various fields taking just seven each or so out of the crop harvesting mode.  We went up to hunt again in mid April and had a great, comparatively speaking, hunt and shot about 11 each in three hours of hunting in three different fields.  We went up in early May and shot in two different fields and took just seven or eight each.  The shots were long and the chizzlers very wary.  {I kind of like long shots with .223 Rem or .22-250 Rem rifles but 200 yard shots with a .17 HMR it is hard to connect on a regular basis.}  Our final outing in late April was also a bust.  We ended up taking about eight each after 3+ hours hunting in two different fields.  On the long and quiet drive home we both agreed that the season is over and the chizzlers won.  Nature has its cycles and the Universe has decided the low end of the chizzler cycle is upon us for a year or two more.  Why didn't Mother Nature consult with me on this?

I want to admit that I was so ready for a good season this year.  I was excited at the prospects of getting into the dealing out the wholesale death mode again in 2020.  Last year's hunting, 2019, was poor and this year was to be the turn around.  NOT SO!  I have schooled The Supreme Commander on how to shoot her Savage H.B. .22LR with really pretty good precision*.  She and I have gone practice shooting a few times in the desert near my home.  She actually said she wanted to go hunt with Bounty Hunter 6 and myself on the last trip in May.  I told her to wait until the chizzlers came out more and she would have a more enjoyable hunt.  She has gone with me in days of old, 2017 and 2018, and done her duty taking over 150 in a day with the accurate little Savage bolt action.  She runs the scope at about 7 power all the time and if the little vermin are within 75 yards of her they are usually toast.

Who really enjoys chizzler hunting is Bounty Hunter 6's dog -- SKEET.  He went with Bounty Hunter 6 a couple of times this spring and caught and killed more than a handful each time.  Skeet smells or sees them than puts his "4-paw drive" in high gear after them.  He quickly learned to cut them off on their way to their burrow.  The chizzlers would stop and stare at him when confronted by the 100 pound labrador and he would do the death-chomp on them.  He was really proud of himself.  Bounty Hunter 6 thought it was fun to watch and then finally realized he had been hunting for about 2 hours and not fired a shot as the big bad black lab had done all the hunting and Bounty Hunter 6 was just an observer.

I guess I will have to go to Idaho and hunt rockchucks and The Unitah Basin and hunt prairie dogs.   Chizzlers are on another planet for now.  {Maybe I can sneak close to Area 51 and find some space  chizzlers, I have made the targets for practice already.}

* Practice target for the Supreme Commander.  Just in case you wondered.

ANOTHER COW ELK TAG IN THE BOOK CLIFFS ?

I had suffered the wrath of the Supreme Commander for being gone from home too much hunting in fall of 2019.  3 OR 4 TIMES I was gently reminded I had been hunting for about 25 days in the fall and 15 days in April, not to mention hunting in Washington and Iron counties in between times.  The local hunting entailed returning home at night to eat, bath, and sleep over.  

NOTE:  I did, however, draw a cow elk tag for the Book Cliffs area near the Utah Colorado boarder in June for late in the year.  I didn't tell her about the tag as she was on melt down about me being gone for so long in Sept, Oct, and Nov.  Not to mention the month of April when I went to Africa for a significant amount of time.  I am sorry.  I am a butt.  I just go nuts for hunting.  I had to make a plan to hunt cow elk.

My plan went as follows:

1.  I would go to my son's house in Roosevelt, Utah for Thanksgiving holiday and the great turkey feed.  I would enjoy the family and eat way too much on Thursday, Thanksgiving Day.
2.  My son and I would get up and go hunting for cow elk in the Book Cliffs on Friday while the women folk did their things: a) sleeping in, b) shopping, and c) talking about Christmas up coming.
3.  We could slip out and the girls would not know we are gone.  Hopefully we could get to the Book Cliffs perimeter within a reasonable amount of time and do some hunting.
4.  We took some sleeping bags and bought some food at Smith's Food King in Vernal, Utah "just in case" we had to stay over a night in the Book Cliffs hunting.  Forgiveness is easier obtained long distance rather than permission in person. . . .

Finally, a plan went together for me. --  We, Dax and me, got up and had breakfast with everyone who was awake at 9 a.m.  We kind of, gradually in stealth mode, loaded the truck with gear and then told the few folks conscious goodbye we were going to the Book Cliffs hunting for cow elk.  We snuck out of town ever so quietly.

It is a 2.5 hour drive to the Book Cliffs cow elk hunting perimeter from Roosevelt.  We had a great time talking to each other Father-to-Son and Son-to-Father.  This is one of the best parts of hunting.  The communication between your fellow hunters.  Whether driving or sitting around a fire or just looking at God's majesty of creation together perched on a ridge top -- the thoughts shared while hunting are high lights in life.  We finally breached the perimeter of the hunting zone around 2 p.m.

Dax was driving and  took me to down a snow covered road in the hunting area.  It had been snowing the night before.  There were tire tracks, so we knew someone had been down the road before.  I was hoping the other party had not scared the elk away from the road.  I would like to re-do the "shoot the elk and slide it downhill in the snow into the back of the truck whole" operation as we had done two other years while in this area hunting cows.

We took a branch of the road that was still snow covered and virgin to tire tracks.  We drove down the road about a mile and Dax said "there are some on the hillside straight ahead."  My spirit leaped!  There they were -- a medium sized cow, a large calf, and a big mama cow.  Dax ranged them at 494 yards.  There was no cross wind - thank heavens.  They were walking along the ridge top and away from us.  They were not walking very fast, kind of eating and walking, and visiting as cow elk do among themselves.  They were not concerned because of the distance between us.  They did not know I had an ICBM readying for use.  {ICBM = Inter County Barnes bullet Magnum}

I got out of the truck and loaded a round in my .300 Rem Ultra Mag.  The Barnes 180 gr. triple shock bullet resting in the chamber had a job to do.  I took aim at the big mama cow calculating the distance hold over in my scope and switched off safety then gently eased the trigger back.  The rifle went off and I heard the bullet smack ribs.  The cow staggered and then walked over the top of the ridge.  Oh, Crap-O-Rama,  no sliding the meat animal downhill in the snow; now she was on the other side of the hill 500+ yards away.

Dax went after her directly on foot.  I being a 66 year old with a bad heart whisy went around the hill to the south and west on the road in the truck looking for the wounded elk to leave the area and perhaps get another anchoring shot.  I drove maybe 1.5 miles looking for tracks crossing the road, for blood on the hill sides, and just animals moving.  NO sightings.  Dax found a blood trail on the ridge top.  He followed the blood trail in the snow for a short distance and found the cow dead in a small ravine.  The Barnes bullet had passed clear through even at the 500 yard distance.  Two holes make for a better blood trail than one hole, if you know what I mean?

Dax started skinning and gutting the elk for transport as soon as he got to it.  I got back together with Dax and drove the truck to within 250 yards of the downed animal.  We made some pack-out trips to get the meat to the truck and I was so glad to have my son with me to do most of the work.  He treats me really well.  I HAVE TWO SONS AND THEY BOTH ARE PERFECT, SORRY WORLD.

We congratulated each other on another successful Book Cliffs hunt and the delicious natural meat we will have for the next year in the freezer.  I am so happy to share with Dax and his family the fruits of our efforts.  If Matthew were closer he too would enjoy the elk meat with his tribe.

We headed home just at dark.  I drove and it was another great conversation time.  I am truly blessed in life.  We arrived home around 8:30 p.m. and no one really mentioned we had been gone all afternoon and evening.  We just casually mentioned we got an elk and then everyone was back to playing fish around the woodstove and eating treats.  It was totally cool!  I don't think the Supreme Commander actually put it all together until the next day - that we had been hunting on Friday after Thanksgiving.

Even I get lucky sometimes.

BEAR HUNTING in Colorado rocks !!

My son drew a black bear rifle tag to hunt in Colorado and I wanted to go along for the adventure.  He allowed the old guy (me) to tag along and I had a great time.  He is so good to me.

We hunted near the Utah-Colorado boarder in the Bookcliffs area.  We were at approx. 8,800 ft. elevation and in a large patch of service berries and quacking aspens.  Kind of west from Rangely, Colorado if you are familiar with the area.  We found many, many fresh bear droppings, and a reasonable variety of different sized tracks but were unable to catch any bear in the act of making those tracks, . . . and etc.  We were up early (5:oo a.m.ish) and watching water holes hiding in the extra dense service berry laden bushes on the north side of various hillsides.  I watched like a marine scout sniper assistant with my binoculars and had a radio to tell Dax if I saw a bear or even a shadow that looked like a bear in the service berries.  We hunted Monday evening 9-2-2019 and mornings and evenings until 9-4-2019.

On late Wednesday afternoon 9-4-2019, Dax was sitting on a hillside nestled in service berries waiting for a bear to come to water in a pond about 200 yards and 30º angle below him.  As the evening grew abit dimmer with the setting sun he heard a noise behind him.  He thought a deer or an elk had come down the trail behind him and was making the noise.  NOT SO !!!  He turned to look and now a boar black bear was maybe hunting him???  Dax looked for cubs as he did not want to shoot a sow bear.  NO CUBS.  He took aim and made the shot with his .338 Win Mag and the 225 gr. Barnes bullet flew true to the mark and smacked the bear.

The photos tell the rest of the story.

Hearing the shot I hiked to were I though Dax was but the forestation was so dense I could not find him. After looking around I hiked back to get the truck and drive it down a fire break road as close as possible to the downed bear general area.  Dax gutted the critter on the hillside and made a very hard hike bringing the bear out.  We loaded it and went to a open place a mile away to take photos and skin it.  The hide was in excellent condition.  There was a significant amount of bear fat all around the carcass.  This old boy was ready for the long winter hibernation nap.  Fat and hairy.

Spending the hours traveling to and from the bear hunt camp, then hunting a few days with my son was wonderful.  We could talk and not be interrupted by phones or kids or wives.  The trip was well worth my 1,000 mile round trip.  The bear itself was a bonus. 

God is so good to me.

Day 8 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Tuesday April 17, 2019

Up at 7:00 a.m.ish and eat the farewell usual German breakfast.  We load up our gear into the VW diesel mini-van and head towards Windhoek where the taxidermy shop and the airport await us.  We leave our trophies for cleaning, tanning, and processing with the kind people at the taxidermy shop.  I look forward to my black wildebeest horns and the hide as well as my first oryx  being euro-mounted. 

We head to the airport and check our bags.  South African Airlines has a company rule that ammo needs to be transported in a separate locked container.  Even though it came into Namibia just fine in our luggage from the USA a week ago we have to combine our ammo with Jim Sorenson’s and borrow a lockable box from Sigi to ship it home.  Ken chooses to leave his ammunition with Sigi -- they both shoot the true and correct caliber = .338 Win Mag.  Dax and I take ours home via Blackfoot, Idaho in a locked box. . . .  gradually?

The flight home is seemingly extra long and the layovers are hard to handle.  I am so tired and my foot problems are not helping.  I watch several movies on the way across the Atlantic ocean.  If  I did not have so dang much fun I would not do this again.  I am already thinking about when and how to come back to Namibia and hunt for the one and only Ugly Old Hartebeest.

We clear customs in Atlanta without a hitch and fly to Las Vegas.  When in Las Vegas we catch the shuttle and ride back to St. George.  The Supreme Commander picks us up at the shuttle station.  What a trip/adventure!

Day 7 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Monday April 16, 2019

Up at 6:00 a.m. -- breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, delicious breads, and jelly.  We are out hunting at 7:15 a.m.  We stalk up on 2 or 3 bunches of oryx but no shot.

Dax and Sigi see an tough old warthog.  They are off on the chase for awhile on foot keeping low in the brush.  Dax makes a good shot on the old bugger at 200+ yards.  A crusty old warthog with no tail left, a broken tusk, no teeth in his lower jaw, one ear off, and tons of scars on his face.  Dax may have done him a favor as he would have eventually starved to death due to the not teeth problem. Sigi really congratulates him on the trophy.  We take some photos and William brings the truck around.  We load it up and head back for lunch.

Capt. Crusty the un-lucky warthog

Lunch is some type of fried in bacon grease composite lunch meat resembling ham that is carved thick, maybe 3/4th of an inch, and served with fried potatoes, and is served with a fried egg on top of the meat.  There is a tossed green salad.  To me more or less the least good meal of the hunt.  Dax later told me in Santa Clara he liked it.  The other hunters chowed it down.  Dax asked me if I were afraid to eat the bacon here.  I said no, I didn’t feel like it.  I also gave some of my fake ham to Dax, above the table.  I gave 2 bites of the fake ham to the dog under the table to finish it off.  Dessert is a rich dark chocolate pudding.  It was chocolately good and I could relate to it via my spoon.

After lunch I go soak my foot and rest for an hour.  Later over on the main house patio for cokes Sigi asks what I am out to hunt for now?  I say I would like to get an “old ugly hartebeest“.  He laughs and says while snorting “They are all ugly”.  We go out and find the perfect specimen of a "old ugly hartebeest."  He is a sneaky rascal.  As I stalk to within 280 yards he winds us.  He then stays really close to a cow and calf so I can’t get a clear shot.  The animals gradually wonder over west into some shoulder high brush and disappear.  We journey on to another venue.

We drive up the southeast side of the valley of death and saw oryx, kudu, and mountain zebra.  Hares and springbok are all over the place.  It was a cool drive and I took several photos.  At sunset we head back for dinner.

Before dinner we have to settle up accounts with Sigi.  I pay for Dax and my hunting fees and food.  I am glad Dax could come with me.  I wish Rusty, my other son, would have come.

Dinner for all the hunters and guides is bar-b-que oryx, black wildebeest, and lamb all good meat!  I think Ben, the P.H., grilled it over charcoal.  We had some excellent bread that was cooked in a dutch oven.  Ben, the P.H., saw us all sitting together at the table ready to eat and asked me to say grace.  I did  and I wonder what they thought of this gringo from Utah praying at their table.  Good fun talking about all the adventures we had together.  Hunting together makes for good friendships.

No dessert and time to soak my foot again.  Shower and off to bed.  Poor night sleeping as I had lots of anxiety and major foot pain.

Day 5 of the Namibia 2019 hunt

Saturday April 13, 2019

When asked last night what time for breakfast “7 something?” I replied 7:59.  I was up at 7:20 and went over to talk with Frauke on the side patio behind the kitchen. She has been nice to me for over 12 years.  I appreciate her as a fine person and a dear friend.  She is a hard working ranch/farm wife, mother, and grandmother.  She is coping with the loss of her husband Hans Peter of 40+ years just a short time ago.  Peter was a special friend to me and I deeply miss him.  I can't imagine her loss.

Frauke told me today Jule was born in the same house where I am staying.  Frauke’s children are: Frita, Jule, Heinrick, and Phillip.  A black worker, a cook, was the mid-wife delivering person for Jule.  Frauke said it was a stormy night when Jule was born and it was too far and too risky to go to the hospital.  She had her baby on the farm.  Her father-in-law sat up waiting for the birth to be complete with a bottle of champagne and a paper to write down the moment the baby cried. -- everyone was so involved with the birth he drank all the champagne alone in his night shirt and fell asleep.

I have a significantly infected toe on my left foot.  Pretty bad.  Swollen and the skin is coming off the top of it.  Dax is concerned and said I should go to the doctor here.  I should get on anti-biotics.  I said I didn’t want to go to the clinic here because of the multitude of strange-exotic and potent germs that were there at the clinic.  I would have no resistance to them being a gringo.  I think Dax told everyone about the infection and Jim Sorensen brought out some antibiotics he had brought with him.  They were purchased in Mexico but I took them 3 times a day for the rest of the trip.  Sigi brought me some anti-inflammatory medicine and I took it twice a day.  I sent an email message to the Supreme Commander back home to get me an appointment with my regular doctor for the day after I came home.  She did.  Frauke brought me the farm's traditional foot-soaking tub and some special “green soap” and I soaked my infected foot in hot water with the green soap twice or three times a day.  It made it feel better for a few minutes.

Grossest photo of the trip

On the hunt:  Sigi left off Tobis and I with some chairs to watch for game coming into a drinking pond.  I was not up to walking much with my sore toe.  We watched as a momma warthog came to drink and wallow with her 4 babies.  It was cute.  She did not see us nor smell us.  A big eagle came to drink and it was beautiful to watch nature live.  A juvenile warthog male came in and saw us after wallowing and drinking some.  He took off so momma warthog did too.  The babies kept saying, “Why do we have to leave -- we were just starting to have fun?”  Eventually Sigi came to pick us up in the truck.  We headed back to the farm house for lunch.  They had not seen any shootable game either.  Lots of blame is on the helicopter that is constantly trespassing in Farm Garib air space.

Lunch was hamburger patties (beef), brown gravy, boiled new potatoes, tossed salad, baked squash, some kind of and onion-cabbage slaw?  Desert was pistachio pudding.  After lunch we had nap time.  I soaked my foot again before dozing off.

Drinks at 4 p.m. on the main patio.  Everyone on the back patio started buying Frita’s jewelry that was on display in a locked case in the dining room.  Several hundred dollars were spent by the hunters.

Sigi, Dax, William and I went to Joe Luhl’s place. We saw a warthog at distance and Dax took a shot at a jackal without luck.  Finally some rain started and we head back at dusk.

Joe Luhl home So. 23º06.264’  E 17º45.115’  elevation 4,718