Leaderboard

I got to take my 6 year old son and my 9 year old daughter out for squirrels. Thanks for all the help from my previous thread. I nailed 2 and my son got one. First shot and first kill! It was a tough shot and he tried setting up on him about 4 times. Arms getting tired, and bad ammo. Finally when the 22 went off dropped it from 40ft up. I couldn't stop laughing because I couldn't believe he made that shot!!! They really had a blast. My daughter had such a good attitude. When we lost the first one we chased she said happily " well at least we saw one" Ha ha. She got on a couple but couldn't make it happen. But she had a good attitude.

I know this is long. I was going to keep it brief, but thought I would add more detail, as I like to analyze each hunt and try to learn something from it. I had this same hunt 7 years ago, which my brother from Indiana joined me on. He was able to hunt with me the first week only. I got selective after seeing my trail cam picture of a 340 class bull. We hunted him that whole first week, having close encounters with him and passing on smaller bulls. My brother had to leave, and so did this bull, with all 20 of his cows. I did not fill my tag that season. I drew this tag this year and my brother flew out to hunt with me again. This time he was able to stay for most of the hunt, but not arriving until Sunday late morning. It was the first time I had missed opening day of an elk hunt, let alone the first three days. My anxiety was through the roof. When my brother arrived, I told him, "this time I'm killing something while you're here". My early criteria was 5x5 or bigger. My early scouting was discouraging...very little sign where I hunted before, hot temperatures (85 degrees), very dry, tanks very low... The first Monday and Tuesday saw little action and only a few bugles. Wednesday we hunted all day in the rain and had a blast. The rut was firing up. We had close encounters with a nice herd bull twice, but couldn't get a shot. We did 12 miles chasing bugles all day. Each day after seemed to get better. Even with the full moon there was good action, although the bugling shut down by 8:00 am, so we had to find them bedded. We had close encounters each day, with 4 or 5 in the 330 class. Most within 30 - 70 yards, just couldn't get a shot opportunity. I am very conservative with my shots, and will not try to force it. Up to this point, my brother had been struggling to produce good cow calls, using open reed calls that I had. He did pretty good in camp, but in a set-up he got "stage fright". I could tell he was pretty discouraged with himself. Heck, I've been using these calls for 25 years and still struggle now and then. He said, "they don't like calls with a Hoosier accent". On the last Tuesday of the hunt I gave him one of my diaphram calls to try. To my surprise, he did pretty good with it. I also broke out the....Hoochie Momma. I resisted this for 9 days, as I really don't like the sound of it, compared to diaphragm/reed calls. But he could make consistent cow sounds with it. It was getting down to the wire...Tuesday afternoon...our 9th day. We wouldn't be able to hunt the last day of the hunt, Thursday, due to my brother having to fly out. So we had two days left. After doing some camp chores, it was getting late, about 4:30 pm. We were pretty worn out and feeling a bit lazy so we decided to just walk a short road behind camp, about a 1/2 mile back. We would try a new calling strategy. I would initiate the cow calls with a couple different diaphragms, then he would mix in with the Hoochie Momma...so they wouldn't be shocked by it if they came in. Then I would move up in shooting position and leave the calling to him, as needed. We set up at the end of a point. With some cow calling, we provoked a bugle across a draw. He seemed to be hung up, when another bull bugled to our right. We adjusted our setup and got ready, as this bull seemed to be coming in. I had told him, "the caller is the quarterback, you have to draw that bull in and stop him for the shot". He whispered in the radio, "do you see them coming from the right?...get ready". Here come two cows and a calf...trotting in to find their friends, with a small bull following about 40 yards back. I ranged the cows at 25 yards as they trotted by, got nervous and kept on going. As the bull's eyes went behind a tree, I drew my bow. The bull took a further line to follow the cows....I estimated 35 yards. As soon as the bull was in the clear, my brother hit the Hoochie, stopping the bull. My shot was true, as clearly seen by the Nocturnal lighted knock...low, right behind the shoulder...THUMP. As the bull ran off, we both hit the cow calls. I listened...but no crash. Holy smokes! What a turn of events, in just minutes! My brother walked up to me and we quietly discussed what had just happened. We slowly/quietly walked up to where the bull was hit. It was easy to follow his tracks, dug into the pine needles as he ran. Within 50 yards we found the arrow, covered in bright red blood from tip to knock. There wasn't a lot of blood, but enough to follow, with some difficulty. It took about 45 minutes to cover about 150 yards. At that point, we were finding clots and where he stood, bleeding from both sides, barley dripping on the ground. Now it's dark, and we break out the headlamps. I'm a pretty good tracker, but on my hands and knees I could not find another spec of blood or disturbed pebble. We began a grid search along the line he was taking. We searched for a few hours, then walked back to camp, grabbed a bite, and rode the quads back to the site. We continued to search all over the ridge top with the quad lights...until 2:00 am. We went back to camp and washed down some Alieve with peach schnapps and got 3 hours of sleep. We were back out there at 6:00 am. I used the Backcountry Navigator app on my phone to coordinate our search grids. We searched the ridge top, and the surrounding side draws/canyon. We finally found him at 1:00 pm, nearly 1/2 mile from where I shot him. What a MIRACLE! I was humbled and overwhelmed....I broke down and cried...in front of my younger brother. This had never happened to me before, with archery/rifle kills...elk, deer, javelina...one shot and they die within site. I have been on quite a few of these tracking jobs for others that didn't turn out well. The hard part to understand was the shot was perfect, both lungs. How in heck could he travel 1/2 mile?! Miracle #2, the meat was still good! It appeared he had been in shade until the last hour before finding him. Also, that night was the coolest we had, 50 degrees. I had my doubts, but had to take a chance. There was a slight rot smell, I think from the blood and gut cavity. I skinned back the hind quarter and sniffed the meat...not bad. I cut through the meat, to the bone and sniffed...not bad. We took the meat to the processor, who said it looks and smells great. Cooking some backstrap confirmed it was still good. It was an epic hunt! We had close encounters with nice bulls, saw some awesome country, and had a great adventure with my brother. Lessons learned: #1 Don't get discouraged with lack of sign/activity in a place known to hold elk in the past. Have patience. The rut will kick in and opportunities will happen. This season had several negative conditions stacked against it...hot, dry, full moon. It was still a great hunt. #2 Hunt hard. If the success rate is 20%, hunt 5 times harder than everyone else. According to my brothers step counter (not sure how accurate these are) we covered 64 miles in 9 days and 9,000 feet in elevation change (up/down). #3 Have a good hunting partner that will encourage you and continue to get out of bed every morning at 4:00 am. #4 Don't discount a particular call because you "don't like it". Try everything in your tackle box and figure out what they're biting on. #5 The last day we were in camp, my brother came up with a yellow jacket trap, using a water bottle and apple juice. GEEZE! Do this on day one! They were a real nuisance. I got bit by one day one and stung on day 10. #6 Avoid the temptation to track the animal right away. Wait an hour. I was confident in my shot...certain he was dead. I don't know for sure, but it's possible I pushed him. It took 45 minutes to track 150 yards, but maybe not enough time. #7 Don't give up on the search. I was confident in the shot and knew he was dead. We searched for 15 hours and covered many miles in steps. The Backcountry Navigator (or similar app) is a huge help with this. #8 Don't give up on the meat. I believe my bull was dead for 18 hours. The meat was still good. Arrow covered in blood from tip to knock: Two happy hunters! Meat ready to go: Shot entrance: Shot exit: Went back 9 days later to look for a lost radio. Not much left: Interesting...the toe is covered with a hard sheath.

Got a short video of this guy chasing something by the camera. Didn't appear that he got it since 1 minute later he's walking by. Would have been cool to get a kill on cam.

He goes by many names .. We English speaking folks know him as the Alpine ibex. In Latin, he’s known as the grandfather of all of the goats; Capra Ibex. In his native ranges he goes by several monikers; le Bouquetin the French speaking regions of the Alps of southeast France and western Switzerland, lo Stambecco in the Italian Alps, der AlpenSteinböck in the German, Austrian and eastern Swiss Alps, and Kozerog in Slovenia where he lives in the Julian Alps, the southern arm of Alps proper. To many hunters, he’s regarded as the King of the Alps; Der König der Alpen. I am in this crowd of hunters. He’s a special animal that most hunters are afforded just one chance at, if ever at all, in their lifetime. Permits are extremely limited and very hard to come by. He’s been immortalized in his native range in statues, sculptures, paintings, and writings. Hunters for millennia have looked up from the valley floors on clear days at the highest snow and glacier capped haunts the Alps have and pondered the chance to have just one opportunity to chase the long horned goats that live in those absolute vertical reaches of the incredible range they’d gaze upwards at. I had my opportunity in western Switzerland this past week. I’m humbled to have had the opportunity to receive this rare permit at a time that coincided with my chance to finish my Capra Super 20 (20 different goat species from around the world) I’m thankful, humbled and grateful. It was a hunt I’ll never forget. The Alps gifted me one of its Kings and he’ll forever hold a spot of the highest regard in my life and in my memories from here on out. Having finished my Capra Super 20, I have so many people to thank. Each of you all know who you are. Know that you’re all incredibly gracious good people and I’m a better man for having had the pleasure of you in my life. Thank you all.

Good stuff!!!! Gotta get him a muzzle break, his teeth got knocked out😝

Did you kill osama bin laden?

Casey if you know something please speak up, but if you don’t its probably worth finding out what organization these tags are donated through and how they distribute them. Vague posting in an accusatory tone is not going to accomplish much.

Call it an infatuation. Call it an addiction. Call it a passion. Call it an obsession. A waste of energy. A waste of money. A waste of time. Call it a problem, or a sickness. Call it whatever you'd like. If it's a sickness, I have it, and it's incurable. If it's an addiction, an intervention isn't going to stop it. Trust me, I think my wife might have tried that in the beginning. If it's a waste of time, and money, then that explains why I'm so far behind on chores and why i cant afford luxurious vacations. If it's a waste of energy, then that explains why I feel so dang old. It's not going to stop however. The reward is too great. Succesfully spotting and stalking coues bucks with a bow is the ultimate satisfaction, second only to creating and raising a family. Hunting coues deer with my bow has consumed my soul for many years now. It's a high I've continuously yearned for since I felt it for the first time many years ago. This late summer archery season was as productive as any season I can remember. It cost me money, and time, and energy, and sleep, but each day I got to spend in those desert mountains this season was a day that all non-hunting related stresses left my mind. It is unbelievable how healing it is to climb out of the desert floor, glue your eyes to a pair of binoculars on a tripod, and pick the landscape apart. I was able to lay my eyes on many good deer and had some very close calls. Unforeseen events caused me to miss more days than I would have liked during the season, not counting the days I missed because of work but all in all the this August /early September was one to remember. It flew by and before I knew it, I was down to one day of hunting left. My good buddy Randy Landwerlen made the drive down to hunt with me on what would be the last day of the hunt for both of us. I had a pretty good idea where some shooter bucks were living so we made a game plan that included parking trucks in two different spots and hunting from one to the other. This would allow us to cover most of the country that the big bucks had been calling home. We dropped Randy's truck off and then continued on in my truck. As usual, it was a race against the sun and we sucked wind climbing to our first glassing spot of the morning. It was one of the better glassing spots in the area, but it definitely wasn't a great hill to start a stalk from, primarily because of the effort required to make a move in any direction. Randy was the first to spot bucks. They weren't shooters so we kept looking. I was feeling more pressure than normal to find bucks. It was our last day to hunt and I actually had a spotter to aid in a stalk. I primarily archery hunt alone, unless the stars align and I can get out with my hunting partner Cody, so I really wanted to take advantage of this opportunity. Aside from the bucks Randy glassed up, things were pretty slow for the first bit of the morning. I eventually found a shooter far off on top of a big ridge but he didn't stay visible for long and he wasn't in a spot that wasn't going to take less than 3/4 of a day to relocate. Randy spotted a few more deer and then we elected to glass back behind us. I found a group of bucks and began to direct Randy to them and before I really got finished giving him all the details of their location he says "those are nice bucks." "I dont think they're shooters." I responded. "That deer on the left looks big." He replied. I obviously wasn't looking at the same deer he was. About 100 yards left of the deer I was looking at were a group of bucks and with them was a deer that both of us agreed was a shooter. We watched the bucks for probably half an hour before deciding to cut the distance some. They were two canyons over and one of the canyons was quite large. . .and deep. We crossed through the smaller of the two canyons and thankfully the bucks had not moved. They fed towards the top of the ridge and eventually bedded down. Randy and I went back and forth about who would stalk the deer and how to go about it. You know you're hunting with a top notch guy when the guy is an avid coues hunter but he's adament about letting somebody else go after a deer rather than himself. Randy convinced me to go after the deer and as you can imagine, I didn't need much convincing. The thermals had pretty much settled and the wind had been pretty consistent for about an hour. I chose a path and tried to memorize some landmarks. Crossing the canyon between us and the deer was not going to be fun. It was going to take me some time and I was afraid that the deer were not going to stay put. I made it about 2/3's of the way up the opposite side of the canyon when I hear Randy holler at me. I knew what that meant. It was over. I looked at Randy through my binoculars and he gave me the signal that they had crossed over. Without a spotter I would have wasted the next few hours stalking deer that weren't even there. Ask me how I know. I climbed a little further until I got phone service and called Randy. He told me that the deer ran up and over but he didn't think they were spooked. I decided to climb to the top of the ridge and just walk down it towards where the deer went over and maybe glass off the other side. Before I made it to the top, Randy text me and said that he found them again. What a relief. They bedded again down the ridge about 400 yards from where they were when I originally started my stalk. Talk about catching a break. The wind was steadily blowing on my right side and slightly in my face. The deer were in their second bed of the day, and they were bedded near the top of the ridge. For once, I felt like I had an advantage. Unsteady wind is my arch nemesis. Finally, today, the wind was steady. I continued down the ridge until I felt like I was getting close to where the bucks were at. I noticed a doe feeding where I thought the bucks should be. I also noticed two cows fifty yards to the right of the doe. The advantage was tipping back into the buck's favor. The best route with the most cover was not available to me now because of the doe and the cattle. The doe laid down, so I crept a little closer and stopped for awhile. Eventually one of the bucks stood up about ten yards past the doe and came and rebedded near her. My goal at this point was to get within shooting distance of the buck that had just rebedded and then sit tight. He wasn't the shooter but I wasn't sure exactly where the shooter buck was and I figured he wasn't too far away. I was 120 yards at this point and the wind was still blowing on my right side. It took me about 20 minutes to crawl to 80. After sitting at 80 for a bit, another buck stood up and fed over to the doe and buck closest to me and bedded. I now had two bucks and a doe at 80. The shooter buck was still out of sight. I could see the head of the second buck which was actually a plus. Now I could move and keep an eye on his ears to know when my noise levels were too high. I crept in to 60 and the buck's ears never perked up once. At this point I could make out the antler tips of the shooter buck. The tree he was under was 74 yards away. I got to 70 when the wind died and I began to run out of cover. I stayed there for a good while waiting for some wind and one of the small clouds in the sky to give me some shade. After being there about ten minutes I felt the breeze against my face. A few minutes later, a cloud provided some shade, so I began to crawl some more. It took me about 15 minutes to cover another 10 yards. I got to 60 and felt like getting any closer was too much of a risk with the two bucks and the doe at only 45 yards from me. My adrenaline levels were beginng to rise and I could feel the fever coming on. I knew I was close to making this happen. Fortunately I had time to gain my composure. In my younger days, this multi-hour stalk would have taken me all of about 30 minutes. Like a grizzly bear, I would have blundered my way in there, hoping this buck tolerated my presence long enough for me to take him down. Today though, I chose to take the form of the Nile crocodile, hiding in the depths of the waste high grass until I got close enough to let the jaws of my BowTech snap, and letting the teeth of my rocket steelhead tear into my quarry's flesh. After sitting at 60 for awhile, the buck stood up and offered a broadside shot. I wasn't completely confident that he was exactly 60 so I tried to verify his range by ranging him rather than the tree above him. I had a hard time with the tall grass, but I finally got a range. He was 60 exactly so I attached my release and raised my bow to draw. He flopped back into his bed before I had a chance to completely draw and the waiting game began again. I wondered if I had wasted my only oppurtunity. It was now afternoon and I was in deep consideration about whether or not to try and crawl closer when out of nowhere, one of the closer bucks jumped up and darted out towards the big buck. Both of the other Bucks jumped and followed. I didn't know what happened. The wind was good. I was motionless. I thought the gig was up so I jumped up and got ready to draw. All three bucks soon realized that their jittery nature had gotten the best of them and they decided to all head back out of the sun into their shady beds. As the big buck approached the tree he had been bedded under, I drew my bow. He got right back to here he had been bedded and stopped, quartering to. I held for about 10 more seconds before he turned broadside. I settled my 60 yard pin at the front of his lungs and applied pressure to the release. As my arrow left the bow, the buck simultaneously began to twist towards me and drop his front end, attempting to drop back down into his bed. My arrow flew true, but unfortunately his vitals were not in the same location they had been when I initially shot. The deer was hit lethally, but it wasn't the perfect double lung shot that I had anticipated. The buck bolted directly towards me and stopped at a mere 15 yards in the tall grass. I couldn't see anything but his head but I took a guess at where his body was in the grass and let another one rip. I heard the impact and the buck bolted off out of sight down the steep, rocky hillside. I immediately called randy to see what happened. He said the deer went down. He was able to watch the entire thing. I was ecstatic. So much work had gone into this. My emotions came to a peak and I let out a schoolgirl yell that echoed through the canyons. I really could not have done this one without Randy and I intend to return the favor someday. Randy made his way over to me and I could see he could appreciate the deer for what is was, which is a rare trait these days. It was refreshing to see somebody view the deer as something more than just a certain amount of inches. We took pictures, deboned the deer, and began our pack out. I'm sure many would wonder why I would bother climbing to the top of this mountain, crawl through the chigger infested weeds and grass, and sit in the baking sun for hours . Maybe I am infatuated. Maybe I am obsessed. Maybe I am addicted. Maybe it is a waste of time, or money, or energy. Maybe it is a problem I have. Or a sickness. Call it what you want. I call it living.

Awesome!!! Outstanding to stick with it and get that bull!!! Sounds like an amazing hunt. S.

Great job, way to stick with it. I've seen and heard too many times where guys give up too soon. Nice hunt and bull.

So when my son was 11 he shot his first deer. A kiabab doe on the run at 180. Dropped in its tracks. I thought I can’t believe he did that resting on a burned out log. That was lucky. When he was 13 he shot a cow elk at 470 with a very serious cross wind and it went nose down neck shot . I thought I can’t believe I let him take that shot. That was lucky. At 14 This past weekend he shot a coues buck at 378 while light was fading off a bad rest of rocks. The buck was bedded and not much more than the top of body and neck showing. This time I had a good friend to witness the boy can shoot some. He squeezed the trigger and the buck rolled over dead never stood up. Right in the neck shattered the vertebrae. I thought. Maybe he’s not lucky. Haha. Good time. These kids are getting to be shooters. Saw an article on a junior shot a 130 at 750Yrds my son has had great success with browning x bolt vortex viper and Hornady led-x in his 6.5 credmore

Lot's of snow last night. Pic won't upload. I'd turn my tag in if I were you. Better yet just burn it. All the deer ran onto the park yesterday.

I have no experience in the Galiuro but if you're in Tucson I would be tempted to stick closer to home. Unit 33 has tons of space to get into and you likely won't run into any other hunters. Also plenty of coues to chase in there as well. Wish I knew more! Best of luck!

Not all wounded vets hunt, and can't always make the hunt when it's time to go. I have a lot more I'd like to add, but I've been drinking, so I'll bite my tongue for now.

Finished up 6 for 6, 22 hour drive home thru snow and rain, flash last night into today killed us but well worth it

Very nice antelope.

Congrats to the both of you! Nothing like spending time with your kids hunting!

I really enjoy taking “first time” fishermen out and helping them get their first fish. I “pre-fish” the lake the day before, and I know what lures are working best, and where the trout are hanging out. I have several rods set up, go lines out and put the rods in holders. Tell the boys “just watch that rod tip, you’ll know when a fish hits it. The excited look on their faces when they get a fish on is priceless. Tonight I am going to finish teaching a few things to 5 Scouts, and in two weeks, they will get their “Fishing Merit Badge”.

Tikka t3x Compact in 243 or 7mm-08. Good accuracy reputation and a shorter 12.5" LOP. http://www.tikka.fi/en-us/rifles/tikka-t3x/t3x-lite-compact

says the guy posting about bigeye tuna on a coues site for a month

love the lopes!

Most of my friends who r die hard hunters are now divorced. So gotta walk that fine line

Honestly I haven't seen a spotter in that price range that was worth packing along. Sell the Vortex add the $600 to that and get a pair of Ziess conquest 15x56. You'll be far better off than with a cheap spotting scope!

If it's excellent recoil your after, your 10 year old daughter will want a 375 H&H Magnum. To save on weight, cut the stock off just behind the pistol grip.

I had your same problem last year. I took off my shoes to stalk the coues I ended up shooting, but felt lucky I didn't have feet full of cactus, as I was in cholla and prickly pair patches during the stalk. So I asked my wife to sew me some "custom" quick removable sneaky feet. Set me back about $8. They have a sole of 4 layers of fleece, and the tabs on the side to lace them to the shoe. Takes about 30 seconds to put them on or take them off. I have used them so much, they are almost worn out. Stalked to 20 yards from a 90 incher last week until the doe he was tending busted me. Much nicer than having to trek back in socks to where you dropped off your boots.