Everyone loves a good story, especially when it goes on long enough to draw the reader in. This will not be that story. Instead, this will mostly be a story about how brief a hunt can be when everything goes right.
So – to steal a line from my write up last year – “The Universe conspired against me” AGAIN.. to prevent my brother and I from making it to the Highlands. However, Brother Scott (AKA Mountain Bug) had drawn various big game tags for his home state of Colorado. One of those tags, for Buck Antelope, was valid during our originally scheduled trip to Scotland. He was on the fence all summer as to turning it back and keeping his points, or keeping the tag. By August the decision was made, Scotland was NO GO, and the antelope tag would stay. Having already paid for my now cancelled flight to Scotland, I had the credit to buy a flight out to help.
Upon arrival, he greeted me with some unexpected news. A young classmate of his daughters had gone missing and the county was mobilizing to search for lad. So, the morning after landing I found myself hiking quadrants with a number of other folks. To cut to the chase – the young man was found safe a couple days later. There had been a domestic dispute, he had walked off, and ended up in one of the weekend cottages that the city folk keep. Apparently someone arrived from the big city on Saturday morning to find a new resident in their cabin, having eaten their food, slept in their bed, and watched their satellite TV. I guess you could call this a modern version of Goldilocks and the 3 bears.
Later in the day the search was temporarily halted while the Search and Rescue Command consolidated their findings. We used that time to run down to the ranch where permission had been obtained to hunt. All the antelope were in the rut, which meant there were at least 7 bucks holding harems in a single pasture. Quick explanation – a western pasture such as this was close to 1000 acres – a far cry from the normal mental image of pasture.
We spent the last couple hours of daylight glassing and trying to decide which was the best buck. Several good bucks were in the center, near a pond and a large hay stack (approximately 100 round bales stacked 3 high) and this seemed like the easiest location from which to fill a tag. The largest buck though was up in the far corner, near the highway, with no more cover available than a fence post. We went back to the ranch managers house and discussed our choices.
The ranch manager mentioned that one other person had been given permission, but we had no idea where he intended to hunt. Knowing that the biggest buck was in the hardest to access spot, we decided we would try this and leave the hay bales as a back up plan. Turned out that was indeed the best option.
An hour before light we were up and heading south with a plan. I would drive and drop Brother off on the shoulder of the highway in the dark. He would climb the fence, then lay just below the crest of a rise (more like a bump, surely couldn’t be called a knoll) behind his backpack which would also serve as a rifle rest. If the plan worked, the buck should be bedded within 400 yards or less from the spot and when he stood from his bed.
As planned, I dropped him in the dark then drove on down to the first county road and took a meandering drive in the dark. First thing I noticed was our hunt plan was sound, as I noticed taillights on a truck parked at the haybales. I could also see a flaring cigarette which likely explained the desire to drive a truck right to the hunting spot.
After a few minutes I turned back and drove to the stop sign at the intersection about 1 mile south of my brother. It was just turning light enough to see, so I got my binoculars out and watched 3 bucks chasing and sparring – obviously younger bucks as none had harem, or even a single doe. Twelve minutes after legal shooting light – I heard a single shot, and then the “ding” of a text message – with “Got him, come on”.
Brother can expound further, but he said shortly after light the buck did indeed stand within 400 yards, but almost immediately began chasing his does. The chase brought him closer to the bump on which Brother rested. The buck stopped, and the 7mm Rem Mag made a perfect hole in his heart. The drag was relatively easy, and the buck was caped for a mount and carcass in the larder by 9:30 AM. Everything went right, from start to finish, which makes for a successful albeit lackluster tale.
So – to steal a line from my write up last year – “The Universe conspired against me” AGAIN.. to prevent my brother and I from making it to the Highlands. However, Brother Scott (AKA Mountain Bug) had drawn various big game tags for his home state of Colorado. One of those tags, for Buck Antelope, was valid during our originally scheduled trip to Scotland. He was on the fence all summer as to turning it back and keeping his points, or keeping the tag. By August the decision was made, Scotland was NO GO, and the antelope tag would stay. Having already paid for my now cancelled flight to Scotland, I had the credit to buy a flight out to help.
Upon arrival, he greeted me with some unexpected news. A young classmate of his daughters had gone missing and the county was mobilizing to search for lad. So, the morning after landing I found myself hiking quadrants with a number of other folks. To cut to the chase – the young man was found safe a couple days later. There had been a domestic dispute, he had walked off, and ended up in one of the weekend cottages that the city folk keep. Apparently someone arrived from the big city on Saturday morning to find a new resident in their cabin, having eaten their food, slept in their bed, and watched their satellite TV. I guess you could call this a modern version of Goldilocks and the 3 bears.
Later in the day the search was temporarily halted while the Search and Rescue Command consolidated their findings. We used that time to run down to the ranch where permission had been obtained to hunt. All the antelope were in the rut, which meant there were at least 7 bucks holding harems in a single pasture. Quick explanation – a western pasture such as this was close to 1000 acres – a far cry from the normal mental image of pasture.
We spent the last couple hours of daylight glassing and trying to decide which was the best buck. Several good bucks were in the center, near a pond and a large hay stack (approximately 100 round bales stacked 3 high) and this seemed like the easiest location from which to fill a tag. The largest buck though was up in the far corner, near the highway, with no more cover available than a fence post. We went back to the ranch managers house and discussed our choices.
The ranch manager mentioned that one other person had been given permission, but we had no idea where he intended to hunt. Knowing that the biggest buck was in the hardest to access spot, we decided we would try this and leave the hay bales as a back up plan. Turned out that was indeed the best option.
An hour before light we were up and heading south with a plan. I would drive and drop Brother off on the shoulder of the highway in the dark. He would climb the fence, then lay just below the crest of a rise (more like a bump, surely couldn’t be called a knoll) behind his backpack which would also serve as a rifle rest. If the plan worked, the buck should be bedded within 400 yards or less from the spot and when he stood from his bed.
As planned, I dropped him in the dark then drove on down to the first county road and took a meandering drive in the dark. First thing I noticed was our hunt plan was sound, as I noticed taillights on a truck parked at the haybales. I could also see a flaring cigarette which likely explained the desire to drive a truck right to the hunting spot.
After a few minutes I turned back and drove to the stop sign at the intersection about 1 mile south of my brother. It was just turning light enough to see, so I got my binoculars out and watched 3 bucks chasing and sparring – obviously younger bucks as none had harem, or even a single doe. Twelve minutes after legal shooting light – I heard a single shot, and then the “ding” of a text message – with “Got him, come on”.
Brother can expound further, but he said shortly after light the buck did indeed stand within 400 yards, but almost immediately began chasing his does. The chase brought him closer to the bump on which Brother rested. The buck stopped, and the 7mm Rem Mag made a perfect hole in his heart. The drag was relatively easy, and the buck was caped for a mount and carcass in the larder by 9:30 AM. Everything went right, from start to finish, which makes for a successful albeit lackluster tale.
