Oregon High Desert Rifle Hunt Elk-2011
I met an old-timer the other day over coffee at the cafe in Grass Valley, Oregon that told me that 15 years ago you never saw an elk in this country because it was loaded with deer. Now, it seems as though the tables have turned. The problem with rifle hunting elk in the high desert is that they group up into large herds. This always creates a problem for me and getting my hunters close enough to engage because the elk always put themselves in elevated positions with visual and wind advantages with good escape routes. They also spread themselves out a half of mile to give 400 eyes a chance of seeing you. The herd is usually on top of the canyons, but the big bulls like piece and quite.
My hunters arrive the afternoon before the hunt and we go up to our friends house on the hill to have everyone shoot their rifles and make some adjustments as needed. As my followers on the blog already know, this is VERY important.
That evening we retire to the lodge for a few cocktails and a few hunting stories.
- Relaxing elk hunters ready for dinner
We had a great dinner and hit the hay for opening day hunt. The first morning we were breaking into three groups. I was taking a few guys up the gut, that means straight up the middle of the ranch while the other two groups stayed at the top and covered canyons and escape routes. We set in and the three of us did not get farther than 300 yards into our hike when we saw the first group of elk up on top blocking my route to give me better elevation and visual. So back down the trail we came and had to re-route down by the lake. I do not like to do that because if you scare the waterfowl off the water the elk are bothered by that as well. Wind was the only thing in our favor and that is by far the most important apect about hunting elk. We get to the small lake and there is elk all around us. We are within 250 yards, and each of my shooters had engaged targets with ease at that distance the night before, so I felt comfortable with them taking rested shots on an embankment. We finally isolated the two largest bulls and decided to fire… and wham, wham, wham. I was filming and did not see where they had hit, one hunter missed entirely. The other hunter Shawn had hit his bull but I could not tell where. So we began to track it but could not find any blood and tracked the elk across the canyon and I could see that he was not hit very hard. The second day, we hunted a few areas and found that the elk had bedded down on top of the canyon with no way to get to them within 1000 yards because they had wind and visual in their favor so we let them lay and looked for other elk.
I took this picture to remind me of what I saw that morning while sitting on this perch. As the hunters came down the camera I spotted a doe following what I thought was her fawn. However, it was a bob cat. They were both trotting and she followed him down the hill and thru the rim rock like they were buddies. It was like a Walt Disney show. I wish I had my video camera to film. You do not get to see those kinds of things every day.
The next morning we broke into groups again and Steve and I worked an area together down a canyon when I spotted a bull by himself below us on the other side, bedded down. He had the light hitting his golden hide just perfect so I was able to spot him. We snuck down and got into position just about 150 yards from him. Steve put his bi-pods out and tried to secure a shooting position. This task took some time because poor ole Steve was on a hill-side and could not find any comfortable position to shoot from. He finally found something that may work and he looked like a contorted body that looked like it fell from a 120 ft. sky scraper. I instructed him to take the bull only when he stood up and gave him a good side shot. I snuck down below and to the right to get his attention and soon enough he stood up and Steve dropped him. We were both excited because it was Steve’s first bull elk. He had harvested some cows bow hunting, but this hunt was special to both of us.
- Steve’s first bull and what a pretty one to boot
We met up with some other of our hunters and Joe Dirt and I hiked up to get some transportation while Joe and Steve worked on the bull and drag him down to a landing we could get too.
Then all hell broke out and I had to get my other hunter in position to shoot another bull, so we took off like Cherokee Indians running thru the brush to get around to the elk if they ran into the wind. However, the herd went up….this meant we had to go up as well and with speed. So Tim and I started up the hill as fast as we can and we are both winded. The other hunters have engaged we could hear the shots as the elk headed across from us and stopped because they winded another shooter. Tim fired and laid his first bull down.
I did not have my camera for all the elk taken because they were harvested at other locations in the canyons. We did have four in our vicinity and that is when the work began. We had some friends hunting our upper area on our place as well, and they took some bulls too. This is what separates the men from the boys when the butchering process begins.
After I field dressed the second elk, I got a text from my wife that brought a smile from my face. She had taken Mady to her first pumpkin patch and texted me a picture. No matter how tired you are, it really put things in perspective.
- Mady at the pumpkin patch while dad is in the field.
The crew all met at the butcher shed and it became evident that this was going to be a lot bigger problem than I originally thought. It seems like everyone got their elk, and there were a lot of elk.
Joe and Cory, good ranch hands were a force to be reckoned with. They got all the heads ready as well. I owe them a lot of gratitude because without these guys I personally would have been a serious world of hurt and I was really hurting.
The next morning, Joe wanted to get his bull. So off he and Cory went and happened to find the wounded bull that was still with the herd from the first day when Shawn had hit him. Turns out he was only grazed at the belly and Joe harvested him.
- Joe Dirt and Shawn with the “I wished I wouda” Bull
It was a very succesful season with lots of action and hard work. I hope my hunters understand that they worked very hard and that the biggest bull does not necessarily mean the best bull. The average elk hunter in Oregon kills a bull once every 7 years. They hunted hard and learned patience and the next thing they will learn is that biggest elk doesn’t always taste the best and to be thankful for the smaller ones when you reach into your freezer.
I hope everyone was successful with their elk hunts this year. I look forward to posting some elk recipes up in the near future.
The Hunting Chef
When my baby wants a steak…SHE GETS A STEAK!
My poor daughter Megan believes that she cannot go to a restaurant and get a steak that is comparable to what her good ole daddy makes her. We have tried Morton’s, El Gaucho, and The Prime in Vegas to name a few and she always comes back with….”They cannot even come close to yours dad”.
This was Megan about five years ago at Morton’s after they served her up a steak that was not up to par. She was very unhappy. So this weekend, Megan said she wanted a steak and a twice baked potatoes for dinner. That is all she had to say to her pops and bam we were out of the house heading to the butcher like a fat kid….like a fat kid……like a fat kid heading to the butcher!!!
We selected the bone in Ribeye steak, how can you go wrong with marble fat? I like to cut the fat off the bone and make it into a cowboy cut.
- I like to cut off all excess fat when BBQing…keeps the fire at a minimum.
I use sea salt and quality good pepper and let them sit at room temperature. I then select a tater and have my official tater tester smell the tater for quality.
Antelope Hunting in Wyoming
I have put in for Antelope tags for 14 years in Oregon and still to this date have never been successful. It has been on not only my bucket list, as well as my long time best friend Scott Brown as well. Every year we kid about the fact that one of us is going to be hunting Antelope while the other is the sherpa, and every year we are both riding pine. About four years ago, Kevin Kelly, one of my clients and friend had offered to have us hunt his families ranch in Wyoming provided we could draw the tags. Well this year, we finally drew them for unit 76 and we made the phone call announcing our big success. Kevin made the arrangements with his parents, because he would be unable to attend the dates we were going to be there. This is our story.
Scott and I flew to Cody, Wyoming. First thing we had to do is document the hot flight stewardess. How often these days, do you get on a plane that has a hot airline stewardess? Basically NEVER. So my first mission was to get a photo with Scott and the stewardess with out her knowing with my I phone.
We arrive in Cody and got our rental car which was a Ford Explorer and I had to sign an extra document stating I would not off-road in this vehicle. I signed it knowing that I was already going to break that rule. We then had to drive about 1.5 hours to Thermopolis, Wyoming. However, we have been on the road since 4 am that morning and needed a little pick me up lunch.
After Lunch at the Cowboy Bar, we headed to our host ranch house Pat and Leona Kelly who own the 4K Paradise Ranch. Let me tell you something about this couple, they are the nicest two people on the planet. If you look up gracious and kind in the dictionary you would find a whole page dedicated to them.
Upon arriving that afternoon, there were other hunters staying at the bunk house and offered to show us the way to the Kirby unit. So off we went and that evening we ended up spotting a lot of small herds with marginal billy antelope among them. We were there for trophy antelope, since it has been both of our dreams for a very long time. We ended up taking the wrong road and got lost in the mountains above Kirby for a few hours.
The next morning, Pat took us out to Kirby again and we poked around, then went to the other side of the highway to inventory up some more antelope.
We spotted a few small herds, but still didn’t see anything that qualified as something we wanted on our walls. We did see about 1000 sheep roaming the country side, which we never seen before and I learned something pretty interesting. The sheep herd had several Pyrenees dogs watching over them. Pat informed me that they actually stay out there with the sheep and never come down the mountain. They live out there on their own and provide their own food off the land. As you can see, does not look like there is a lot of dog food in that high desert country.
We hunted spent the day glassing over several areas spotting good goats, but nothing was worthy of our precious lead. Scott did meet a new girlfriend out there, he was a little smitten for a while.
So every night, our gracious host made us a fine dinner with wine. The Kelly’s hosted a lot of hunters, and they never take a dime in return. It is their nature I suppose to give back to friends and to share their lives and ranch with open arms. Most of the people were from California, we were the only out cast from Oregon but they were all very nice people. Some were hunting elk, some were hunting deer, and some of us were looking for our first antelope but we all enjoyed the company, the food, and the wine.
Pat with his trailer BBQ he had built for special occasions.
Brad and Mike brought Buffalo New York steaks for Pat to BBQ. Wow, what a meal.
One of the icons of Thermopolis is that it has the worlds largest hot spring. Our hotel even had a spa full of its miracle water. Let me also tell you that it smells like rotten eggs or a truck stop. They say you get used to it, but it brought us to our knees every time we returned to the hotel.
The next morning Pat and Leona took us to their mountain property to look for high mountain Billies. Leona also had a goat tag and she had her eye on this special billy that had unique horns. This mountain ranch was spectacular and had a little cabin that slept 8 with little river that was full of Brooke trout behind it.
It did not take Scott long to digress and lose focus and find a fishing pole, a bobber, and a grasshopper. He said “I need to add this to the list of things I have accomplished in my life.” Off he went with me and the video camera in tow. He did catch one that I captured on video.
Soon after we caught the fish Mike Chavez came off the mountain and said he spotted a nice billy. I said to Mike “Where did you see him?” He then turned around and pointed straight up a nasty hill with rock out cropping. We headed up that mountain and my lungs were burning at 7500 feet elevation. Mike just finished a 100 mile Mt. bike race at 10k elevation so he pretty much kicked our asses up that mountain. We found a Billy but still was not worthy of the pull of a trigger. We saw a few nice bucks up there and headed back down to the cabin.
Pat and Leona were waiting for us, we ate a lunch that Leona had made for us and we headed for Potter Canyon. We were only there for about five minutes when Leona spotted three nice billies heading up the back side of the mountain we just came down. We packed our gear and went after them thinking they were going to buckle down in saddle at the top. It was my turn to shoot first so I was on point and we came around the rock cropping and had an easy nice 276 yard shot. We both discussed which ones we wanted after glassing them for a while and had our game plan. Once I shot, Scott would fire a second after I did. Wham, wham and guess what. The goats were standing there looking at us! Two seconds later they were over the mountain free as jay birds. What in the heck just happened? I NEVER MISS. When we came out of the rock crib we also noticed the 40 mph winds up on top, but it wasnt enough wind to make us miss at that distance. We looked for blood, but saw where our rounds hit rock and I was just sick on what just happened. Pat and Leona arrived at the crime scene and I was just beside myself. I knew better. I knew that we should have sighted in our weapons despite the strong gun case I had upon our arrival. I decided to return to base camp down the mountain and get on the range with my weapon, no use wounding an animal or educating them. Leona did her best to make us feel better and said “It all happens for a reason.” I felt like a boxer that was still fighting in his 50s and didn’t have the athletic ability to compete anymore, physically I must be losing it.
We came around the corner on the way down the mountain and we found another group of antelope with one shooter quality billy in it. Of course, we didn’t have any weapons that apparently worked in the pick up. Leona slid her one shot .270 WSM out of her scabbard and offered it to Scott. Pat was glassing the billy along with me and said “Wooahhhh that is a long way out there and up hill to boot.” I ranged him at 320, he broad sided then went up an additional forty yards and Leona whispered to Scott as the Billy gave another broad side shot, “Put the cross hairs straight on him Scott.” Bam! Scott stoned him dead as a canary with one shot. He surprised all of us to include himself and replied “I have to get one of these rifles.” On the way up the small mountain he was telling everyone he loved them. He often gets emotional after he harvest an animal.
We packed him up and headed off the mountain so I could get to the range with my rifle. I think that is when Leona adopted Scott because he mentioned he lost his mother a few months before with a bout with cancer.
As they prepared Scott’s Billy for the meat cooler, Pat and I went to the range. My rifle was off 16 clicks at 100 yards. Must have been a PETA person at the airport jumping up and down on the gun case because both of our rifles were pretty bad off.
That night our knees and legs hurt from the hiking and the Indians said the spa water was therapeutic for the body we actually climbed in the smell water. I am not sure if it worked, but we did smell like eggs when we went to bed that night.
The next day Pat took us out to another hunting spot to no avail. We then headed back up to the mountain. As we drove I got the sandwiches out of the cooler and noticed that Leona wrote something on the sandwich bag. Pat and I also noticed that Scott got more meat on his sandwich than us.
One of the things you should know about Scott and I is that we are competitive and we live by a code of honor. That code of honor is also directly connected with the game “Ro Shon Bow” also known as paper, scissor, rock. We have been playing it for more than 30 years. There is a lot of gates to be open on this ranch, and I set a record of 9 straight gate victory. Pat kept saying after each victory “Again???” I think for a moment that he realized he may have adopted a kid that rode the short bus to school because no one goes 9 losses in a row.
After we did some hunts and looked over the mountain ranch, we saw some billies but nothing I that I wanted for my wall. We had about 1.5 hours before dark and Pat thought we could make it to Kirby for a quick 30 minute hunt. So he pointed the “Beast” down hill and Scott got to opening the gates and off we went.
We arrived in the Kerby unit with 30 minutes to spare of day light, The Beast was right on time. I really did not think it was going to happen. The time frame was a little short but then out of no where a herd with a big billy runs in front of us, goes down a drainage and stops. We glass him for 5 seconds and determine he is big enough. I range him at 436 yards, no problem 9 inches over his shoulder and send it on its way. High 3″ on line. What in the LORDS NAME IS GOING ON HERE???? I have been snake bit since I saw that baby rattler. I range again, after they took off over the hill, 326 yards. I range again 416 yards. I think there is something going on with my range finders in my Leica Binocs. Scott says “Yeah that happened to me yesterday with your binocs, I think your battery is going dead.”
“Really? Really Scott is this a good time to tell me you noticed it yesterday?” Pat puts the Beast in gear and we drive around the drainage and spot the herd heading into another drainage. I have Pat stop and pursuit on foot. I get to the opening and see that the herd is heading North but is rolling around a hill broadside. I estimate it to be over 800 yards and after this week there is no way I am going to take a shot. I see another herd heading my direction parallel to the herd with the big billy in it. I think, I got 5 minutes to do this. Is it possible to turn him into that other herd heading my direction. I set up and decide to shoot 10 feet in front of him to turn him. Perfect hit, right in front of his nose 10 feet and he turns exactly into the other herd heading at the back of the pack towards me. Scott is filming this entire thing and begins to say “He is heading your way, get ready.” I reply “I know shut up before you blow this.” He is covered in a group and I have to wait for an opening in the herd to make the shot and POW. Down he goes less than 100 yards.
I could not believe that the stars aligned themselves to pull it off and all the things that went wrong did, and all the things that went right did. I was on an emotional roller coaster that gave me the end result of a major headache. Scott and I pulled off some great speed goats against all odds and turned it into a successful hunt with the support of Pat and Leona.
That night we had our final dinner with The Kelly’s in which their friend Bev made us a delicious zucchini “apple” home-made pie and home-made ice cream. That is correct, an apple pie with no apples but zucchini and it was DELEESH. Though I was not adopted by Leona…I did score the recipe. I will share it on the blog later.
We left Wyoming excited and a bit sad to leave our new friends. We made some great memories last week. I personally would like to thank Pat for driving us around for 4 days and working from sun up to sun down, he was like a bull, he never quit us. I would like to thank Leona for loaning Scott her rifle, the dinners and lunches, and most importantly her smile that kept me going when I was ready to break my rifle over a rock. Finally, I would like to thank my long time best friend of 30 years Scott, for opening all those gates.
The Hunting Chef
Bow Hunting in Oregon’s high desert
There are not too many people crazy enough to pursuit elk with a bow in the high desert of Oregon. Why do you ask is it crazy? Well to put it simply there is nothing to hide behind, and what you do have for cover it is small to hide behind and very uncomfortable because it’s either rock or the hardest dirt in the world.
What I like about bow hunting here is that it is the truest art of bow hunting. There is no room for error and your calling must be dead on, because the big boys will not leave the comforts of their own herd for no reason. This was a special hunt because my two best friends and I always get to go bow hunting together and its my gift to them to be able to guide them and more importantly spend some time together in the outdoors. Scott’s mother had passed away from a terminal bout with cancer a few weeks before and he was uncertain if he would be able to attend, but knew that his mother would want him to continue on the hunting tradition so out he came… and my job was to make sure it was special. It started out with some wild boars running thru and Scott stalking a couple of them when all the sudden 30 baby boars came running down the dirt road directly at me and Grover. In fact, I think Grover had a few run thru his legs. They were the size of footballs.
So instantly I turned to Grover and yelled “Get ‘EM” Then we were off chasing them trying to catch one. I caught a little blond one with white spots after running like Carl Lewis thru the desert. Then the little son of a ….. started screaming so loud and freaking out I thought he was going to bite me, well the truth of it is I got scared and dropped him and off he ran. I am sort of lucky that mom didn’t do a big circle and come back to jump my ass. But she didn’t she just ran past me like it was nothing. As you can see from that photo there is nothing to hide behind that is above your knees. We played with some elk that day but rut has not begun and to warm for elk loving.
The next morning, we left at sunrise to hike in below where I saw some elk briefly from the hillside. The wind was perfect so there was a drainage I knew we could get too before they did if he hustled. It would be a perfect ambush site but would only work if the elk were callable. We worked fast and got there just as a cow elk was leading some cows down the drainage and heading towards the big canyon. I cow called but she didn’t really respond, but in the back of the small herd was a big bull and he was looking hard. If this was going to happen it was going to happen fast, so I ran past pointing to Scott to set up behind this tree and kept running until I got 30 yards behind him and cow called again. The bull came down into the drainage with us and I could see him at 150 yards standing looking at us but not making a sound and not committing to anything. I do not like to do what I am about to do, especially when nothing has bugled but that was the only option I had. I grabbed my bugle and tried to sound like a young bull that wanted a little piece of his herd. He took the bait, and bugled back and came running in. Scott gave me the sign he was coming, I moved back farther down the drainage and gave another cow call when he started to rake his horns right in front of Scott. I cow called very lightly and he stepped forward to the nice sound of a THWAAAACK. He ran out of the drainage I called to him again he stopped broadside and Scott him again right in the boiler maker. The sunrise that morning was beautiful, and the bull standing there not moving was a memory I will most likely never forget.
This is what the shooter does when he has an elk hit hard. Can you see the bull in the back ground?
Here is Grover (Scott’s father) and Scott posing with the elk at the bottom of the canyon. Now I know you have to be asking how that elk got all the way down to the bottom of the deepest canyon on the planet when it had two arrows in the boiler maker at the top of the canyon. 
Ladies and Gentlemen…I give you the AusPit BBQ
I purchased the Auspit BBQ about four months ago, but have delayed using it until my vacation which was last week. What is an Auspit you ask? Basically it is a pit roaster, that a company in Australia produces and it can take 40 lbs of meat and veggies and rottiserrie cook it over flame or coal. The batteries last they say 140 hours. Check them out at www.auspitbbq.com, they have videos and photos. This is my story however, so here we go.
This story begins with my wife, Stephanie having a 32nd birthday so for her birthday I decided to do a rottiserrie marinated tri-tip beef loin that happens to be her favorite. She likes to make left over sammy’s with carmelized onions and mushrooms and an au jus sauce for left overs.
So I assemble my Auspit, which takes about 2 minutes and spear my meat and begin to the slow process. Notice I use a charcoal trough, that is an add on but I like it because I can use it anywhere.
This process is not a fast one by no means. Its slow and easy and I would tell everyone that attempts this tactic to think about an hour for every 1-2 lbs of meat.
I tell you what, there is not too many things that is better in this world to see than a Grass Valley, Oregon sunset….with meat in the picture.
The next morning Steph and the baby had to go harvest with Austin.
The boys were out harvesting and working their butts off in the 88 degree heat and I was drinking beer feeling sorry for them.
This was Mady’s first ride in a combine. Good thing it has air conditioning and clean air.
Here are the boys hard at work stopping for a water break.
That night, My beloved Boise State Broncos beat Georgia and I celebrated.
That night I cooked a chicken, took a little longer so Steph and Mady went to the trailer to lay down and Steph never made it back to dinner that night. This could be the all time best picture ever taken coming up folks. I am going to give a thumbs up to the Auspit BBQ and shout out to invest in one of these BBQ. They are fun and make you drink a lot more beer watching your meat go around in circles. I leave you with this photo.
That is how you do it y’all.
Hunting Chef
Deviled Eggs
I have a friend, aka Egg Man. I do not have a photo of him because he is wanted in 13 states and re-runs of America’s most wanted are still airing. The egg man provides me with farm raised eggs of the finest qualities and today while he was showing my youngest daughter Mady and I his farm he mentioned deviled eggs. Well today I have to cook my youngest sister her favorite meal, fried chicken and some southern food. So today I decided to throw a shout out to Egg man and blog about the appetizer, Shay’s deviled Eggs.
I actually have a few photos of the Egg Man that I have secured from the CIA.
The first thing you need to know about boiling eggs is that there is a method to cooking them. I prefer to use the standard old American way. Put the eggs in the water on one layer and fill water to about 1/4 inch over the top of the eggs. Then bring to boil, and take off burner for 15 minutes.
Now Egg man says they are done, to add ice water, to cool them and they are easier to peel. So I did this and it worked just fine.
Now, there are a million different ways to make deviled eggs. I have used bacon to blue cheese too caviar as a topping. Today I wanted a little bit of a spring or shall I say garden taste, did that sound a little metro sexual? Okay let me re-phrase that “I wanted to taste a little different from all of the typical deviled eggs out there that EVERYONE MAKES.
Here is what I used for my deviled eggs.
- 4 tablespoons of real mayo
- 1 tablespoon of sweet hot mustard
- 2 teaspoons of chopped up dill
- 2 teaspoons of chopped up parsley
- 2 cloves of fresh garlic
- 1 teaspoon of grated lemon peel or lemon zest.
- salt to taste
At this point, you need to make a decision. Right here and right now will decide the product you are going to produce that represents you. You could easily be granny and start filling the eggs with the spoon and sprinkle it with paprika and put them out to eat. The second option is to take it up a level on your presentation. I choose to be a professional and so I use my favorite little stuffing gun that I use all the time for stuffing different foods.
There is something else you folks should know about deviled eggs. If you are going to a party you can order these on line for about 3-5 bucks. Deviled egg containers, yes that is right. I have one of those too and they are awesome! I have about 5 of them for big parties.
Now doesn’t that just look perfect. The eggs are not going to slide off the plate driving there, it looks professional.
Now most people put paprika on top for garnish, that is the standard and I sometimes do that as well. There is nothing wrong with paprika, but I used sweet mustard so I am looking for a little sweet and a little spice, so I used a small dash of cayenne for some heat and it turned out well.
There it is folks, ready for the bottom of your belly. On summer day barbeques, nothing beats a deviled egg….ask Granny!
Hunting Chef
High Desert Elk Hunting-Shaniko, Oregon
About 20 years ago there were no elk in Central Oregon, also considered high desert country. They migrated off of Mt. Hood once they figured out looking from the mountain to the East that there were nice bushy green spots and clear water lakes. So they began to show up in Shaniko country in pursuit of barley, wheat, alphalpha, CRP, and fresh water. When I first arrived on the scene, the elk herd was less than fifty and today there are a handful of herds roaming the area and some herds the size of 100 or more. Wapati, that is what their Native name is from the Indians, which means white ghost. This is because they have the tan butts than you can see when they run from you. They have great noses, and good eye sight. Which means when they are running in a herd they have a hundred sets of each all trying to bust you from your hunt. In the high desert, there is nothing really to hide behind, and the wind often changes directions which makes hunting them difficult. To make matters worse, when I am hunting for them I am bow hunting that happens to be my preference. When I am guiding, most of the time it is clients with rifles and even that task can be very difficult.
Elks are big and can run a long way, especially in the high desert. Their only defense is to run long and fast, so when you do engage them you have one shot because when they stop running they are in another county all together. Grover, a long time good friend and I had a successful hunt one evening and as the herd passed under him in a sage brush for water he patiently awaited a nice 6 point and took him at 30 yards. I was back behind him helping him call and watched the entire hunt unfold. His patience allowed him a clean shot at a nice bull that fell where he had shot him. It was so quiet that the entire herd had no idea what happened and just walked off.
That was a great hunt and a great memory that we will both share until our last breath. We then scallywaged his son into field dressing the elk. I am always very proud to be apart of the hunters experience especially if was their first bull.
I know folks, Raider hat and a hangover? He is really excited just doesn’t know how to show it.
This bull ended up rolling down the deepest canyon on the planet. The only bullet I found in him was in his ankle. apparently, he broke his neck in the fall because he expired at the bottom of the canyon. Took us all day to get him out.
Sometimes it can be very difficult conditions. Take this story, we were tracking this herd and I decided to get a head of them knowing that I could cut them off in one of the drainages to get my hunter above them to engage. It all worked out perfectly until….
This would have been a great photo if the bull would have been engaged and dropped where the photo was taken. However, it didn’t happen that way. The bull had a few cows and they were all paralleling the canyon below, they saw us and started to head up towards the top. Easy shot at 200 yards and they are hardly moving. I said “hold your fire, just keep him in your sight he is tired but he is heading up and we can easily take him on the top.” BOOM!!! The bull rolled to down 20 yards to the bottom and expired. I looked at my hunter like I was going to kill him for not listening but did not say a word.
This is when the work begins. First thing I do is find the young strong ranch hands and get some ice cold beer. Then talk them into going down with the hunter to put the elk on the retriever unit. I then call my other friends with the 2000 ft. cable winch and invite them over for cold ones.
This beats the heck out of packing them out on your back or even horses, but it does make for a nice picture later.
We have had some great memories out there and harvested a lot of elk steaks for the bbq.
The ODFW say that in Oregon, statistically a hunter harvest a bull once every seven years. I say, if you put your mind to it, and you work hard you can harvest an elk every year. As my ole friend and hunting partner used to say when he walked this earth with us…..”Time in the field Shay…Time in the field.” How right he was, R.I.P. Carl Fleming. I miss you buddy.
Going after a 200 year old Lake Trout in Canada
This story took place in 2007 but I found the photos and decided I needed to share my experience. This is Carl and I in fishing in Kulane Lake, which is a 2 hour float plane ride from Whitehorse, BC, Canada. Carl moved to Baker, Oregon about 3 years ago and we do not see each other very often anymore. Back in the day, we used to roll hard, and roll hard we did. This is our story.
We arrived in White Horse, which is a neat little town North of Vancouver by a two-hour plane ride. It is a quaint little town that has some drifters, drunk Indians, and some meth heads. It also has some nice qualities as well.
Notice that either of us are happy, and have no beer or food? That is because no one is happy in Whitehorse, so acting happy makes them not want to serve you. We got service about 10 minutes after this photo was taken. We soon made friends with the bartender, I wonder why?? He told us about the major concert that was a pretty big deal in Whitehorse. AC/DC was in town. What are the chances of that I asked myself.
“We have to go Carl, this is huge!” I said, and he agreed. The concert was right next door in what I thought was a small venue for the biggest rock band in the history of rock bands. We each bought a ticket for thirty bucks, are you kidding me? They also serve beer before you get in and you can take it in? Canadians ROCK.
Wait a minute….
It wasnt AC/DC it was BC/DC a British Columbia knock off band. That their folks in the cow outfit is Angus…or a guy acting like he was Angus.
The next morning at first light we took a cab down to the river and was met by a plane and started our venture two hours into the bush.
It was a nice little ride and the pilot was very talkative. He asked me what I did for a living and I told him I was a retired Navy Pilot. He asked me if I wanted the controls, with my only experience being a computer game, I gladly took the controls. After flying at 10k feet for five minutes I said “This is probably a good time to tell you that I lied earlier and I am not a pilot.” The look on his face made Carl and I laugh hysterically like hyenas for ten minutes. He turned his music on his I pod up so we could only hear music on our head phones and he didn’t have to talk to us the rest of the flight.
We meet Brian Dack who owns the place and he shows us around. Everything you see had to be flown in or built from scratch. There are several little cabins with beds and a fireplace and bathroom and shower.
They are fully equipped and have a chef on the staff that literally tries to kill you with food consumption. They even have a self-serve bar. Notice where Carl is?
Basically this is the most relaxing fishing trip there is. You are totally on your own, with your own schedule. When you feel like fishing (like we did every morning bright and early at 10:00 am) you go out to your assigned 16′ aluminum boat and head out fishing. It is equipped with everything you need.
I cannot remember how big the lake is, but it is big enough not to see anyone else on. It takes 2 hours to cross it. The sun was out, no breeze and the cooler was full of Canuk beer.
The beer was going down pretty good. Nobody told us that Chilkoot beer had 8 percent alcohol.
Then about 3 pm rolls around.
Finally the weather got a little chilly, because it was 1 am and WHAM a big hit. Carl was getting a beer out of the cooler when it happened. I guess we learned we were trolling a little too fast for these lazy fat trout.
After landing a bunch of hogs we deicided to retire to the lodge because it was after all, 3 am. Brian had turned the generator off but we were pretty resourceful so we snuck to the garage and turned it back on.
The next day after the chef tried to kill us again with a 7 course meal that was in desperate need of two cholesterol pills at the end of the consumption we decided to explore this huge lake. It took us 2 hours to cross the darn thing.
We spotted a bull moose laying down in the grass. So I decided that since I was in the back of the boat with the motor and Carl in the front it seemed only fit to see how close I could get to the moose.
That evening Brian decided to join us on the boat and we enjoyed swapping hunting, fishing and trapping stories. Brian is also a hunting guide and trapper and had a lot of interesting stories. We caught lots of fish that evening.
The next day, Brian called on the radio and asked us to catch a few 8 pounders for a fish fry on the North beach. We complied and we met some of the other fishermen over there as well. They prepared a great beach lunch with trout and pike and surprisingly it was very good.
I was relieved that the chef did not show up across the lake with a ton of food. We enjoyed a great lunch and went back out on the water.
We had a great four days there and on our last night we saw what I believe was the coolest and best sunset of my life.
It was unbelievable. The three of us just sat back and enjoyed it.
This trip was several years ago, I thought I would blog it because it is a special place and great experience. I do not see Carl much these days, he moved across the state about 5 hours away. We had a great run though, lots of great memories. I returned to Kulane Lake once since this trip with a buddy of mine, Ryan. We had another great time. I highly recommend this place to anyone that enjoys the outdoors and fishing. They do a great job. When we were leaving, the chef gave us a big hug and cried. Probably because we were her finest eaters. Brian gave me a hug then pinched my butt. Damn Canuks.
Hunting the American Bison
A couple of times I have hunted the respected big plains animal, The American Bison. The main reason that I hunt them is because we enjoy eating the meat. In my families opinion, it taste better and is better for you than beef. It is also expensive, unless you harvest, clean, and butcher your own meat. If you do all of that, it is less than four bucks a pound and leaves you with about 500 pounds of cut and wrapped meat in the freezer.
The American Bison is that it is large and very tough animal. They can jump a 6 ft. fence with ease and are very difficult to kill. There is a reason that the Injuns ran them off cliffs. First thing you need to know is never ever look them in the eye.
As you can see, they are very intimidating. This is a 5-6 year old bull that snuck up on me. I was in all camo so it is possible that he didn’t know I was there because they do not have good vision.
The second thing you need to remember is that when a Bison female gives birth to twins, she abandons both of them because she cannot take care of both. I know, strange right? In the wild, they usually die. However, these days they are bottle fed. What you need to know is that they will act like dog and be friendly but they do not know their strength and size and if you take your eyes off them they can stir up trouble very fast so in this case keep your eyes on them.
This is the correct way to pet one. Eyes forward and stiff arm motion. Sort of like the Heisman. Notice that I am acting a little stand offish? That is because I know that I am going to have to harvest his dad in twenty minutes.
This is NOT the correct way to be around a vicious American Bison.
What you need to remember is how difficult it is to actually bring down a Buffalo is.We were with an ole cow poke that worked the largest ranch in the United States, Ted Turner’s ranch. He didn’t say much but when he did his words had a lot of value to them. I asked him how hard it was to bring one of these big animals down and he thought about it awhile and finally said “There is a reason the Injuns ran ’em off cliffs”. I am not sure I understood exactly what he was saying until later. He took us out in his old truck that had a little hokey crane on it. Then we began our hunt from the truck, and we walked about 30 feet from the truck. We then surveyed the herd until the ole cowboy picked out a younger bull that was younger than three years old. We agreed on the bull and I lifted my rifle because I knew I had to hit him right in the heart to drop him where he stood. I switched off safety, then the ole poke said “I bet you 50 bucks you dont drop him with your first shot.” Then I replied “your on like donkey kong ole man”. I fired and put one in the ole boiler maker and dropped him. Refer to the photo below.
Notice in the photo all the bison in the herd looking at the one laying on the ground? Well I didn’t, I just turned around and said “Hey Rusty, looks like you are going to have to get your wallet out”. He was looking over my shoulder when he replied “Not yet kid, the fat lady aint singing yet and do you have another bullet?”
Of course I didn’t have another bullet because I only had one because a bet is a bet. Then all hell broke loose. The entire herd, including the one I shot, started heading our direction at a rapid pace. We had to retreat to the truck. Where ole Rusty started to drive off with the entire herd in tow. I noticed one falling off the pace and peeled off and up the hill and we figured that may be the one I hit. So he dropped us off at these big boulders and said to go up and around and to finish the job while he kept these guys busy. So off we went, and I found my bison laying down. He finally graciously expired where we took this photo. Now, we knew we only had a limited time and feared the herd would return so we took a quick photo and began field dressing while ole Rusty kept the herd busy.
Now here is where I give all you hunters out there the most important advice. This is really important and will save you from harassment from all your hunting buddies. Even if time is restricted, or the sky is falling, or its hailing grapefruit, never, ever take a hunting photo with a fence in the background. EVER!!!! Sort of takes the hunt right out of accomplishment and the story.
The hunt was not all that exciting, it was more of a cluster %$* to say the least, but we did harvest a great eating animal and that was more of the point. Four days after this photo we each went home to our families and made Buffalo Prime Rib for Christmas. That was the last meal I would have with my grandma, and last Christmas we all would spend with her. So for me, this Buffalo Prime Rib was very special in deed and I will never forget that meal or the Christmas we had together.
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