Apologies up front for the delay in writing out the finale. Conditions at home became perfect for hunting (after a long fruitless and extremely hot period) and I had to go out and chase the whitetail, which will be a later article. Conditions also called me to my side job, and money must made to continue the hunting habit.
So, where I left off. Three mornings we had tried for the bull elk in his backyard, and trail camera showed that he was coming through about every 4 days. Therefore, this had to be the morning. This was also the morning for something different. Brother Scott went back to the top, however, I would coming from the creek bottom and slowly stalking/pushing through what we believed to be the Bulls sanctuary.
In the pre-dawn darkness I walked through a corral full of inquisitive horses, then made my way to the edge of the hayfield that was at the access point to the valley. As it became light enough to see, I began my slow push – really more of a silent stalk with zig zagging to move anything that I didn’t see. I would routinely stop and let out a bull elk bugle (much closer to a sika whistle than a red roar), but all this seemed to do was annoy the cattle.
These cattle are range cattle, more wild than domestic, usually only being handled twice a year. They are wary and will spook at a human on foot (but a human in a truck or on horseback is acceptable). I was ghosting along, successful dodging cattle and glassing – and seeing nothing. Not a deer, not an antelope, not an elk or moose – NOTHING.
As I neared the end of the valley, where a strong and tall fence served as a blocking feature, I finally managed to spook a few young steers. I accepted this in hopes that their crashing through the brush would push out other unseen wildlife, such as elk.
The turn at the end of the valley was much more than I expected – 750 feet of elevation, all at a 45 degree or steeper slope. I managed to get 1/3 of the way before requiring a stop. At this stop, in a dark timber blowdown, I found a sanctuary for many animals. Bear scat, Lion scat and tracks, deer and elk droppings, beds – everything to suggest that there was a great deal of game and I should be hearing the boom of my brothers gun soon.
This was needless optimism, both on hearing a boom and on my completion of the climb. By the time I made my second rest stop I was no longer moving silently. I was gasping and probably sounded like a trumpeting elephant as I tried to get air into my lungs. I was also no longer able to make elk bugles, because this would require being able to catch my breath and blow it out in a controlled fashion. I even received a text (the elevation did provide me a single bar of mobile coverage) from Brother letting me know he could hear my coming up the hill. My text back would be unprintable.
Reaching the top of the hill, and finding my brother, we both noted that we had been outfoxed. A very freshly raked and rubbed pine was present – letting us know that sometime between yesterday morning and this morning, Mr Elk had indeed kept his schedule.
We accepted defeat and decided to go try a different area. After another visit with the rancher – we started to actually hear what he was saying about our hunt. Mostly he was complaining about “Too damn many lions”. Now, Ranchers are prone to go on and on about things that they perceive as negative to their ability to raise livestock, but we started looking in hindsight and saw his wisdom.
Each promising and lush area that we had first identified with OnX or Google Earth, and then hunted, had been devoid of hoofed game. Each of these areas also had multiple ambush points at close range. As we hunted I had commented about the number of good bow hunting spots I was seeing, pinch points where game would be pressed into 30 yards or less. It was then we realized these were also pinch points for other predators. The locations where we were actually finding game was wide open flats. Rifleman flats, flats where 100 yards was as close as you could get before being spotted.
Tuesday afternoon, we went to another luscious hay meadow, loads of older sign, but this time we were looking at it from a lions eye viewpoint. Sure enough, we realized that these meadows had all been hunted (and maybe hunted out) by lions. That is a bit of any eerie feeling, knowing that you are not the sole apex predator, and quite possibly the other apex predator has been watching you. We also checked the trail cameras we had out, as well as the one at home on the back watering tank. That back watering tank was in an open pasture, and was a regular hot spot for the deer.
Knowing that I had to catch a flight Wednesday afternoon, we chose to coyote hunts that morning. The first set up resulted in a pack response of yips and howls, but on the other side of the canyon. A move of 500 yards and we set up in the area of the earlier buck kill.
Side Note: Another lesson in hindsight. When we went out that morning, Brother asked what we should carry, not being an experience predator hunter. I told him to carry his favorite rifle, and due to the openness of the terrain I would carry a rifle also. I always, ALWAYS, normally carry both shotgun and rifle, or if hunting in tandem make sure that we have 1 rifle and 1 shotgun. My departure from this would prove a mistake.
Second set was near a long rock outcropping, and I placed Brother in a location with a commanding view of what I thought the most likely approach path would be. I took the secondary location but counted on the rocks to funnel any coyotes into the more open area. Within 2 minutes of starting the call, I caught a flash of movement, IN THE ROCKS. Gun up just in time to see a coyote bail off the rocks into 20 yard range. At 6X (lowest scope setting) all I could find was fur moving fast. This would have been perfect range for the buckshot loaded shotgun, but I was handicapped with the .243. I took a shot the second time I found fur, but this was obviously off the mark and the coyote turned tail and was back over the rocks before I could work the bolt. No sign of a hit was located.
Two more set ups proved uneventful, and then it was time to go. Southwest Airlines has a very liberal baggage policy, but they do require antlers to be boxed. After some creative cardboard artistry we boxed up and headed down to town. That should be the end of the story, but will all the good luck you know that there must be some balance.
I arrived back into North Carolina at 5 minutes until midnight, all luggage was accounted for and off on the shuttle to remote parking. And there lies my error. I discovered (for the first time, which is surprising having flown out of this airport on several occasions) that there are TWO separate and distantly located REMOTE LOTS. As I got off the bus I realized I nothing looked familiar, except the tail lights of the bus. After walking (and hauling bags/boxes) from one end to the other – I realized I was in the wrong spot. Back to the shuttle, return to the airport, and now on the CORRECT shuttle to the CORRECT remote lot. Nothing like adding 45 minute or an hour to the end of an already long day. After that an hour drive home and that is the finale of this chapter.
So, where I left off. Three mornings we had tried for the bull elk in his backyard, and trail camera showed that he was coming through about every 4 days. Therefore, this had to be the morning. This was also the morning for something different. Brother Scott went back to the top, however, I would coming from the creek bottom and slowly stalking/pushing through what we believed to be the Bulls sanctuary.
In the pre-dawn darkness I walked through a corral full of inquisitive horses, then made my way to the edge of the hayfield that was at the access point to the valley. As it became light enough to see, I began my slow push – really more of a silent stalk with zig zagging to move anything that I didn’t see. I would routinely stop and let out a bull elk bugle (much closer to a sika whistle than a red roar), but all this seemed to do was annoy the cattle.
These cattle are range cattle, more wild than domestic, usually only being handled twice a year. They are wary and will spook at a human on foot (but a human in a truck or on horseback is acceptable). I was ghosting along, successful dodging cattle and glassing – and seeing nothing. Not a deer, not an antelope, not an elk or moose – NOTHING.
As I neared the end of the valley, where a strong and tall fence served as a blocking feature, I finally managed to spook a few young steers. I accepted this in hopes that their crashing through the brush would push out other unseen wildlife, such as elk.
The turn at the end of the valley was much more than I expected – 750 feet of elevation, all at a 45 degree or steeper slope. I managed to get 1/3 of the way before requiring a stop. At this stop, in a dark timber blowdown, I found a sanctuary for many animals. Bear scat, Lion scat and tracks, deer and elk droppings, beds – everything to suggest that there was a great deal of game and I should be hearing the boom of my brothers gun soon.
This was needless optimism, both on hearing a boom and on my completion of the climb. By the time I made my second rest stop I was no longer moving silently. I was gasping and probably sounded like a trumpeting elephant as I tried to get air into my lungs. I was also no longer able to make elk bugles, because this would require being able to catch my breath and blow it out in a controlled fashion. I even received a text (the elevation did provide me a single bar of mobile coverage) from Brother letting me know he could hear my coming up the hill. My text back would be unprintable.
Reaching the top of the hill, and finding my brother, we both noted that we had been outfoxed. A very freshly raked and rubbed pine was present – letting us know that sometime between yesterday morning and this morning, Mr Elk had indeed kept his schedule.
We accepted defeat and decided to go try a different area. After another visit with the rancher – we started to actually hear what he was saying about our hunt. Mostly he was complaining about “Too damn many lions”. Now, Ranchers are prone to go on and on about things that they perceive as negative to their ability to raise livestock, but we started looking in hindsight and saw his wisdom.
Each promising and lush area that we had first identified with OnX or Google Earth, and then hunted, had been devoid of hoofed game. Each of these areas also had multiple ambush points at close range. As we hunted I had commented about the number of good bow hunting spots I was seeing, pinch points where game would be pressed into 30 yards or less. It was then we realized these were also pinch points for other predators. The locations where we were actually finding game was wide open flats. Rifleman flats, flats where 100 yards was as close as you could get before being spotted.
Tuesday afternoon, we went to another luscious hay meadow, loads of older sign, but this time we were looking at it from a lions eye viewpoint. Sure enough, we realized that these meadows had all been hunted (and maybe hunted out) by lions. That is a bit of any eerie feeling, knowing that you are not the sole apex predator, and quite possibly the other apex predator has been watching you. We also checked the trail cameras we had out, as well as the one at home on the back watering tank. That back watering tank was in an open pasture, and was a regular hot spot for the deer.
Knowing that I had to catch a flight Wednesday afternoon, we chose to coyote hunts that morning. The first set up resulted in a pack response of yips and howls, but on the other side of the canyon. A move of 500 yards and we set up in the area of the earlier buck kill.
Side Note: Another lesson in hindsight. When we went out that morning, Brother asked what we should carry, not being an experience predator hunter. I told him to carry his favorite rifle, and due to the openness of the terrain I would carry a rifle also. I always, ALWAYS, normally carry both shotgun and rifle, or if hunting in tandem make sure that we have 1 rifle and 1 shotgun. My departure from this would prove a mistake.
Second set was near a long rock outcropping, and I placed Brother in a location with a commanding view of what I thought the most likely approach path would be. I took the secondary location but counted on the rocks to funnel any coyotes into the more open area. Within 2 minutes of starting the call, I caught a flash of movement, IN THE ROCKS. Gun up just in time to see a coyote bail off the rocks into 20 yard range. At 6X (lowest scope setting) all I could find was fur moving fast. This would have been perfect range for the buckshot loaded shotgun, but I was handicapped with the .243. I took a shot the second time I found fur, but this was obviously off the mark and the coyote turned tail and was back over the rocks before I could work the bolt. No sign of a hit was located.
Two more set ups proved uneventful, and then it was time to go. Southwest Airlines has a very liberal baggage policy, but they do require antlers to be boxed. After some creative cardboard artistry we boxed up and headed down to town. That should be the end of the story, but will all the good luck you know that there must be some balance.
I arrived back into North Carolina at 5 minutes until midnight, all luggage was accounted for and off on the shuttle to remote parking. And there lies my error. I discovered (for the first time, which is surprising having flown out of this airport on several occasions) that there are TWO separate and distantly located REMOTE LOTS. As I got off the bus I realized I nothing looked familiar, except the tail lights of the bus. After walking (and hauling bags/boxes) from one end to the other – I realized I was in the wrong spot. Back to the shuttle, return to the airport, and now on the CORRECT shuttle to the CORRECT remote lot. Nothing like adding 45 minute or an hour to the end of an already long day. After that an hour drive home and that is the finale of this chapter.
