The antelope hunt of 1998 started off at 5:00 AM when we met at Don's house. Our party held three licenses, two does and a buck. We drove to Carr, Colorado, unit 87. The sun was just starting to peak its head over the horizon as we reached the windmill on the section of land where we were directed to hunt by our gracious rancher. Denny, Don, Dave, Jess and little Mason drove the Southern fence line East towards the top of the hill. Michael and I headed North along the along the Western edge of the section.
We parked Michael's truck at the base of a good sized hill and hiked to the top where we enjoyed the remainder of a beautiful sunrise. Something caught my eye at the bottom of the Southern side of the hill. A great looking buck stood and stared at us as we stared back. He stood there for a few minutes as though he knew that my tag was for a doe. He meandered along in no particular hurry, stopping occasionally to glance in our direction. Out here in the great expanse of land bordering the Pawnee Grasslands, the sight of two humans sitting quietly on top of a hill in the middle of no where must be a peculiar site to antelope.
A while later we spotted a herd a couple of thousand yards to the North. Michael set off to see if he could walk North of them and perhaps head them back our way. The wary antelope drifted towards the West and up and over a ridge with many draws. When Michael returned we decided to head over and see what the rest of the party was up to. We had heard a few shots earlier, but could not determine direction or the distance from which they came.
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Loading Denny's doe into the cooler.
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When we met up with them, they were loading a nice doe that Denny got at first light into his rather large cooler. After a short while the temperature began to rise. We could tell that it was going to be a warm day on the Eastern plains.
I decided to take a position inside a weather worn corral about seventy five yards from the windmill. I gathered some pieces of broken railing from the long ago useless fence and piled sage brush and tumble weeds around it for concealment. I waited for prey that never appeared. I t was a quiet moment in time however.
After a while we decided to visit the rancher to see if we could hunt in a different area. After tracking him down he pointed us to a different section a mile or so North of where we were at earlier. Some hunters had had success there and were gone. We drove into the area and stopped for a tasty lunch in the middle of a great open space flanked by two majestic mesas a quarter of a mile on either side of us. After a rest and lunch we spotted a small herd to the north. Denny and Don took off on foot to the North East while Michael and I drove his truck to the North West. We got to the top of the rise and I got out to walk North about 500 yards. Michael was going to drive West and circle around to drive the shy creatures of prey back in our direction.
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Check this guys sources.
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From my vantage point I could see all the way to Wyoming. I kept a close eye on the road the ran East and West about a quarter of a mile to the North. O heard a couple of shots ring out from the direction that Don and Denny headed and presumed that Don had gotten his pronghorn. I spotted Michael's truck heading East on the road towards the sound of the gunshots. I held my ground and waited for about fifteen minutes and decided that I wanted to be in on the action so I descended from my perch and started to walk across the valley to the rise on the other side. It was about 1200 yards through cacti and sand. When I got there no one was there. I thought it best to stay put. I scrambled up a pretty steep hill and waited at the top for a sign of the rest of the party.
Blam! A shot rang out from where I had just come from. Then I saw Michael's truck, He hadn't forgot me after all. But he was there and I was where I was. We spent the rest of the day trying different locations in the section where we spotted antelope and they spotted us and moved on. We stayed until just about dark and headed out.
As we got on the road we were stopped by a couple of DOW (Division of Wildlife) officers who , after checking our guns for empty chambers and our tags, announced that they had a freshly killed doe in their truck that needed to be donated to someone. Michael wound up with it since he didn't have a tag. We were on our way home for a quick night's sleep and an early Sunday morning rise to do it all over again.
We checked with the rancher and he gave us permission to hunt on a different section in the morning. We arrived at dawn and I really like the looks of the area. There was a natural water hole and fresh sign all around. There was even some good tall grass to use for cover. After we had been there for an hour or so he appeared a couple of hundred yards in front of us, half way down a small hill. Mr. 'V'! That's what Denny and I have nicknamed this monster antelope. We first saw him before the hunt last season. He was standing on a ridge overlooking the paved road that leads to the ranch house. His rack is very impressive. It is a good sixteen inches with a good spread and very dark. He is the alpha male. There he was, just watching very cautiously. Don had a buck tag, but he was far away, too far for a shot. Mr. 'V' lives another day.
We spotted a doe on the other side of the fence to the east of us and watched as she slowly walked along looking for an opening to slip through to get to the water. She kept a cautious eye on us. She finally came through the fence and went out of sight behind a rise. A while later she appeared to the west and was joined by a couple of more does. We made our move and drove the truck as close as we could without spooking them off. We got out and all but one had scattered. I took aim and squeezed the trigger. The first shot missed and I quickly reloaded and took aim again. She moved as I shot and I hit her in the rear leg, crippling her. We waited for a few minutes and realized it was not a fatal wound. We started to stalk her and she ran off, pretty fast I might add. There we were, a three-legged antelope chased by a one-legged man.
After missing the mark a few times, I finally got close enough and the adrenaline stopped pumping through me long enough to take the kill shot. I field dressed and skinned her with the assistance of Denny and Michael. In all of the excitement we forgot to get a picture.
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Denny and Tom break for lunch.
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We met up with Don who had been watching a a group of antelope to the North West of us. We all got in Denny's truck and headed up to the top of the biggest hill around. We drove slowing, keeping a vigilant eye on the terrain. When we got to the summit of the hill we saw a herd of a dozen antelope on the right side of the fence about seventy five to a hundred yards East of the barbed wire fence. They spotted us and there was a pause in the action as we prepared to make a run at them. We were five hundred yards away at the top of a two track looking down at the valley. It kind of looked like the view you get from the first peak of a roller coaster. The antelope were getting wary and started for the fence. They were going to cross our path at the bottom of the hill, but we figured the fence might slow them down a bit as they crossed under it.
Don got ready and Denny revved the engine and the race was on. We went down that two track at a pretty good clip and watched as the herd of antelope made their break towards the fence. They hit that fence and went through it without missing a beat and crossed our path way out in front of us. They didn't stop until they found refuge behind a rise to the West of us. We looked over and there stood a real good buck all alone.
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The master and his game.
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Don got out, chambered a round into his old trusty .270. He rested his elbow on the hood of the GMC and asked for a distance check. Denny called out three hundred yards. The buck froze and looked intently in our direction. Don took careful aim and there was a pause when I looked at the buck and then at Don and back at the buck. Don gently touched off the round and we were privileged to watch the best shot that we have witnessed. That buck never took a step. It fell as though an invisible piano had fallen on it. Denny and Don paced out the distance to the fallen animal and it was about two yards shy of three hundred yards.
The shot had made its mark right behind the left ear, Don said that he doesn't like to waste any meat. As he made quick work of field dressing his game we listened to the beginning of the Bronco's game on the radio. It was a pretty good hunt all-in-all. We legally got four antelope with three tags. As we drove home I know that I have to practice a whole lot more with my new 30.06.