Well I suppose it has been long enough that I better get this written up and posted. Last Spring just after Hunter’s most recent surgery we had a good friend call and mention that OE4A had a cow is on permit available and wondered if my somHunter would be interested. To be honest I have avoided these hunts like the plague because 1. I hate sitting in blinds. 2. I have always thought of bison as the icon of the American plains and hunting them in heavy cover and 90+ temps just felt wrong. But the day Ty called Hunter was down sick with strep, still healing from his 3rd hip surgery plus we had just moved and changed schools and he was a little down in the dumps. So I when I asked him about it and he lit up I decided to bite my tongue and get on board. Everytime we do one of these OE4A hunts I am reminded of how important these things are. It means a lot for a kid who has been through some stuff. So thanks to everyone who contributed. This work matters. The season was 3 weeks long but school was supposed to start on the 5th day so we would have a 4 day run and then two more weekends. Unfortunately two weeks before the hunt Hunter tripped and caught his toe, fracturing it right at the base. This meant he would be in a walking boot for the hunt. To get the hunt started we took the whole family up and celebrated Hunter’s 12th birthday the second day of the hunt. We made cupcakes in the trailer and Hunter’s helpers Ty and Alex gave him an amazing Damascus steel knife. 
  We decided to work with Russ and his family, although we were not paying clients. I’ve heard a lot about how all this goes in the past, andI will provide my perspective. We met with the group everyday. It included 10/12 tag holders + an auction tag holder who was holding out for a B&C bull with a long bow. I honestly couldn’t tell you who was a paying client and who wasn’t. Russ and Laura treated everyone really well. I don’t know what happened behind the scenes on blind selection Etc but every single hunter had an opportunity at a cow while we were there, interestingly enough every single paying client killed one. The first day I had low expectations based on what I had heard about these hunts. But before we even got to our blind, a full mile off the boundary we found ourselves staring at 100+ bison staring into our head lights. We were with Russ who killed the motor and turned out the lights. We cracked the doors and could hear the buffalo grunt and groan as they headed into the trees. At daybreak we eased onto the woods and could hear them all around us. We were with two other hunters and trying to keep pace, but we were setup for a blind not a mile long foot pursuit and the effort was comical. We did catch up a few times but a cow never presented herself for shooting. 
  Out blind those first four days was on a salt 50 yds from the boundary. We never saw a bison but we did have a mule deer for named Martha who spent each morning for us. With just the salt to look at there wasn’t much else to see. Day 2 we had just pulled up to our parking spot, 1 mile from the blind when we heard the radio crackle and Russ’ voice urging everyone to head the the highway. The buffalo were out in Demotte Park and everyone who could hear would meet there. This produced one of the most chaotic hunting scenes I have ever witnessed. About 6 hunters rolled up in 4 or 5 trucks. The bison were between 50-200 yds out in the meadow. We were towards the back and our strategy was to find a group of cows separate from the main body of the herd. We found 8-10 cows towards the back of the herd, slid out and set up. Just as Hunter was squeezing down a rifle cracked down the line and things got crazy real quickly. The cow hunter was on started moving and we called him off that one. The scene repeated a few times with a European hunter next to us shooting off hand and emptying multiple magazines before finally getting lucky and dropping the last cow in sight just as hunter was taking the slack from the trigger. When the smoke cleared three cows lay in the meadow and two wounded made it to the park. We packed up and headed for our blind while GCNP tourists stared at a scene that looked like something straight out of a Frederic Remington painting. On our hike in to the blind we repeated our awkward dance with the bison who were in the trees before our location but they were onto us and stampeded through the trees as the wind swirled. Two more days of sitting only produced more time with Martha. The following weekend we made the 300 mile trek back to the top of the plateau. 4:15 cam early but we were game. It was deja vu as we once again heard the call to assemble at the highway. This time my game plan had changed. I was determined not to set Hunter up at the rear of the herd to avoid them escaping so quickly. But you know what they say about the best laid plans... We jumped into a different truck and joined another hunter to limit how many vehicles would be there. As we approached the herd they were on both sides of the road, and started to cross right in front of us! We were trying to get further south but right there the truck began to overheat and went into limp mode. Jacob threw it in park looked at us and said it’s now or never. We pushed our way out of the truck and nearly hit a calf with the door. We were literally in the middle of them. Hunter got set and was waiting for me to identify a cow. But I couldn’t do it. Every buffalo I put glass on had a tuft under its belly and straight horns. Without clear views under the tail, I couldn’t pick one out. It didn’t take long for a rifle to sound the alarm and the main body put a cloud of dust in the air. The sound was unmistakable and you could feel it under your boots. The few stragglers that remained were all packing gear under the hood. That’s when another rifle cracked. I was surprised as I saw what I had identified as a bull drop in the meadow. Russ was motioning for us to join him 200 yds up the road. Hunter, on two reconstructed hips and a broken foot took off at run, his hands straight and flat pointed at the sky opposite each step. I caught up and took his rifle. We made it to Russ who moved us down to a salt right outside the park. We went into the trees and hoped a straggling cow would meander by. We watched and listened as 5 bulls wandered by, but never a cow.   With that opportunity played out we headed to sit. We had four more days of hunting but all resulted in 0 more bison encounters. We did watch the Bab in all its summer glory. Velvet mule deer everyday. Chipmunks became personal friends, until the resident hawks swooped down and grabbed Jim 3’ in front of our blind as he was munching on a hand fed frito. We listened helplessly as he squeezed all the way to the nest. Hunter did have an opportunity to take a calf that was found wandering outside the park, but I was impressed at the thought he put into that decision. He declined as he wanted to hunt a mature animal, especially on a OIL bag limit. I smiled and nodded and was proud, but secretly a little concerned. I hope that he will always have the physical ability to do these things.  But with a degenerative condition everyday is a gift and must be seized. Considering that and weighing it against the hope of an even brighter tomorrow, I held my tongue and prayed his mind could always old that hope.

So with that said we will be jumping into the bison app game and hoping for another shot in the future. And I will cross my fingers that someday I may be blessed with another opportunity to sit knee to knee with my boy for hours on end with no greater worry than what furry friend might become a raptor snack.