Bird Huntin?

One hunting story that I still need to write about is bird hunting. I have never been bird hunting.  This might be the year that I go.  I love to skeet shot and feel like I am not too bad at it. It is a little different to what I am used to doing when I hunt. There is a lot of sitting and waiting and patients. I don’t have the best patients but I think I would really enjoy it. It is an art and I am ready to perfect this art. I can’t wait to have another story for the archives and this will be one for the books.

I Still Smile

I have always loved to shoot guns.  My first gun was a sawed off .22. My grandfather’s neighbor was a gun smith and made me this special gun. I would care that little gun around every hunting season. One day were driving through this meadow and in the middle of the meadow there was a slash pile. Perched at the top was a little chipmunk. I pick my dad who was driving and ask if I can shoot the little chipmunk. He laugh and says sure you can shoot at it. I quietly get out of the truck, kneel down, and get my cross hairs on this little chipmunk. I pull the trigger and the chipmunk jumps straight in the air.  He probable jumped two feet in the air and landed and ran down into the pile. Not knowing what happened I walked over to the pile to see if I killed the chipmunk. Getting to the pile I can see where I hit the wood. I hit the piece of wood right beneath where the chipmunk was standing. The height that the chipmunk jumped still makes my dad laugh. That slash pile is still there today and every time I drive by it, it reminds me of that day and puts a smile on my face.

Bull Moose

The afternoon was boring. All morning we walked around and saw no sign. We were driving back out to the main road and glancing to the right I see the trees along the road shaking.  Tell my dad to stop hoping this was going to be our break and there was going to be an elk by the road. The timber was really thick and it was hard to see what was on the other side. We sat and sat and sat; Just waiting to see what was behind this line of thick trees. After about 10 minutes this mysterious animal showed himself. The paddles of the biggest moose I have ever seen emerged from the branches. He came out into full view and he was the most majestic animal I have ever seen. Only a few moments after him another big moose came out as well. Not as big as the first one but still a trophy bull. We sat and watched them just graze. They knew that we were there but they didn’t seem to care. Maybe after about 5 minutes the bushes began to rustle again. Emerging from the trees was a little baby rag horn Bull Moose. It was like a three generation picture. One of the coolest things I have ever seen.

My GUN

This past Hunting season was one of many disappointments. On top of not harvesting an elk, I broke my most prized possessions. My dad bought his first gun a Savage 30-06 when he was 15 years old. Every elk he has killed he killed with this gun. When I could finally hunt to fill my own license he went and got himself a new gun and handed his gun down to me. I love this gun. The wood stock is in perfect condition but looks like it has been used for years. I treat this gun better than anything else that I own. Anytime the topic of guns comes up in a conversation I love bring up my gun. This year unfortunately the sling of the gun pulled out of the stock when it was hung on my shoulder. The gun fell from my shoulder and pasted a rock right on the scope. The scope is now broken and I am very disappointed because now I can’t call the gun original. I am looking for a Tasco scoop to replace the one I broke but it is not an easy task. The gun isn’t original but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have a story to tell.

Sad Truth

This was unfortunately my last season of hunting. I am really sad. I haven’t missed a season since I was five years old and this next season I will miss. I have chosen to serve a mission for my church. This is a decision that I don’t regret but at the end of the nine day season this year I realized this was my last time hunting for a while. The memories I have of hunting will never die and it will always bring a smile to my face. Hunting will be something that I hope my dad and I can do together for the rest of our lives. I hope to someday be able to take my dad on a hunting trip.  

Cursed Canyon

If anyone has ever tried to drive up to, the upper Cherokee Unit everyone knows about “The Canyon” Every year this little canyon collects trucks and campers in the creek that runs down next to the road. The road is never clear of snow once the first flakes fly. The canyon doesn’t get warm enough to melt the snow away it gets it warm enough to soften the snow and get watery and then at night it turns to ice. Trucks slip and slid off the road and into the creek bottom below. I have unfortunately been in a few encounters in this canyon my family and I call them Rodeos. No one has been hurt and I have never seen any of our trucks damaged. This year we escaped the canyon for another year.

Boulder Ridge

The second to last day; we haven’t seen much fresh sign in three days now and were starting to lose hope.  We decide to go to a new area for the day just to see if we could get lucky. The first opening we drive into there is elk sign everywhere. The excitement begins to rise. We continue on and hope to jump something in the open. Getting close to the end of the road Josh and I decide to jump and the freshest tracks we have seen. We track and track and track. The droppings are so fresh when you pick them up you can still feel them warm.  They drop into a dark nasty hole and we decide to turn around and make a game plan with the rest of the party. We decide to drive down a ridge and hunt the opposite direction that we were when we were tracking; hoping to cut them off. We are just about to crest the ridge and the smell of elk comes into my nose. They are close. The winds weren’t in our favor and right as we crested the ridge the whole world started to move. Brown flashes all around. Getting tunnel vision I see the limbs of a tree shake to my left and take off at a full tilt. Not getting a shot off we come back to where we first saw them and seeing the beds we can see there was a herd of 50 or more. What a thrill and that’s why I go hunting.

2011 Trip

This was a great season. The elk hunting wasn’t the best but the fun we had made up for it. For the first time ever I had a really good friend of mine up hunting with me. Josh came elk hunting for the first time and I don’t think we has disappointed. The two times we tracked fresh elk tracks we were very close but just unfortunately weren’t able to get a shot off. We laughed a lot and I think we got more than just memories out of this trip I think we made our friendship stronger. I know this is what hunting trips are for no matter the outcome. We go to have a good time and to kindle friendships .

My First Trip

I have been going hunting with my dad since I was 5 years old. I haven’t missed a year in my 18 years of living. The stories that my dad loves to tell about me in the tent are as followed. I can remember when you were so small you would be walking in the snow and it would be so deep and you had to crawl over all the logs we crossed you were covered from head to toe in snow. You used to sit on Al’s lap and I would asks whacha ya doin and with little plastic pistol in hand shot out the window and say I’m huntin deeeers dad. These are the memories I get to remember every year I go hunting.

Three Generation Trip

My most memorable hunting trip to date thus far in my life was the one in 2001. This was the year my grandpa, dad and I all went on the same hunting trip. The hunting is the worst I can remember. The ground was dry and the air was hot. We spent the majority of the time lying in the back of the truck shooting pop cans hung in a tree with a bee-bee gun. When we weren’t doing that we were up to shenanigans. We rolled a hug rock down this hill and it hit a tree and broke it about half way up its trunk. The hunting was the worst hunting I have ever had but the trip will be one I will remember the rest of my life.

A Boy Without a Coat

It was beautiful morning as we drove up the Pearl Beaver Road on our way to Bear Gulch. The snow was glistened as the sun rose above the frost covered ridge. The warmth of the sun was a treat from the brisk night air. We sat in the truck and glassed an opening we called Horse Shoe park. The morning was turning to afternoon; finally, my dad asked if I want to go for a hunt. We got out of the truck and the suns heat was past warm to the point of hot. My dad told me to bring my coat. I looked up at the sky and said, “Dad there isn’t a sky in the cloud.” We left the truck and walked down the road quite a ways and turned up into the trees. Only a few steps into the timber the dark shadow of a cloud followed us into the trees as well. I was without a coat and the snowflakes began to fly. I was the boy without a coat. This was my lesson and I will never be unprepared again.

My First Elk

It was chili opening morning in early November; but it wouldn’t stay cold for long. We woke up early and were out by sunrise. We sat and watched a new clear-cut for the majority of the morning and we knew that it would be a good day because there was elk sign everywhere we looked. There were remnants of snow along the tree line from the last snow storm, and tracks marked all over the snow. Sure the tracks were old and melted out, but I had faith this was the year I would get my first elk. We were unsuccessful, opening morning and walked back to camp for lunch. After a longer lunch than usual; we took off on our afternoon hunt. It was hot and it seemed like Green Mountain had never had an elk walk on it. The hunting was bad and we decided to just walk down an abandoned jeep trail, back to camp. On the trail my nose was filled with a long too familiar smell. There were elk around. I looked through the branches on my left and there she was; a cow elk standing broadside. I stood, shouldered my gun, put the cross hairs on the kill zone, and shot. She fell where she stood. It happened all so fast and I couldn’t believe I just got my first elk, and on opening day.