Montana Mule Deer/Pronghorn Hunt 2014

On the road again back to Montana to see if I can become the Bow Huntress. First we made to see the Grannies at the Clyde Park ranchero for a few days. After hugs and kisses from not only the Grannies but the babies especially "Sid", we loaded our gear, our bows, my clothes....and headed off to Broadus.

Upon arrival, we were escorted to a brand new cabin fit for a queen huntress. The owner of Gardner Ranch Outfitters was kind to allow us the private suite equipped with 4 bunks and a double mattress in the loft. Since I was the only Huntress in camp, my Outfitter choose to give us the cabin with the private shower. At first I felt a little odd but was soon very grateful to have the luxury. So I unpacked my girly things, put on my hunting wear, made sure my diamonds were in place (ear and ring finger) and headed to the Large Red Suburban.

Day 1:
Sunday evening we began with fellowshipping Paul our guide for the week. License reviewed, practice shots made at targets to verify our equipment and knowledge of archery, and gear stored.

Paul drove Chris out to his first White Tail Deer sit he was to embark on and gave him the scoop of which way the wind was blowing and where the deer would come from. The box blind was not a stand but big enough for Chris to sit and wait.

Then Paul and I set off for an evening of running up and down the main drag near camp to scout Mule Deer and Antelope. Seems that Mule Deer hunting was a little different than White Tail. I was learning the art of spot and stalk. My first evening on the hunt proved to be an eye opener. Not only were there no easy ways to get to any of these fast range creatures....but they were showing themselves like a display case saying "aha, look at me, betcha can't catch me"! And low and behold the biggest Mule Deer I have ever seen was standing there looking at me during one of Paul's tutorials of low land drainage watches. Just as he was telling me what to look for in the drainages we would pass, there was one with antlers that reach up to the sky like dark daggers and branched out like the oak. Dark and gray he was. My mouth fell open as I said "I would shoot him". Paul just glanced at me. "You gotta have the right deer in the right place at the right time." Then the monster was gone as quick as that. That was my mantra. Right deer, right place, right time. It reminded me of my nursing days and the 5 rights of patients. This was the 3 rights of the hunt. Of course I could change it to 5. Right license, right tag, right deer, right place, right timing.

No deer noted by Chris upon picking him up after the sun went down. He gave the impression the numbers were few and small.
So, we headed back to camp for a night of eating and dining with the rest of the team hunters and their guides. As soon as we pulled into camp, lights were on in the meat hanger. Med were standing with stories to tell of their afternoon achievements while other were gaping over the trophy meats and antlers obtained.
Dinner was served each night at nine and the first nine was no exception. We gathered like one big family who hadn't seen each other in a few years. I adore family style cooking. It reminds me of lunches at Susie's kitchen in my Georgia home town. There was roast, potatoes, veggies, salad, bread, and desert.....more than I normally ate but I ate it.

After a few polite exchanges, some meet and greet, some stories of how close they shot, how many shots they took and what was next for them tomorrow, Chris and I made our way back to our private oasis. Our first bottle of wine opened and tasted, we then headed off to the loft to force sleep. Since this was our second time in camp, we knew breakfast would be early and Paul would be ready to head out early to get us into stands before the slightest crack of daylight.

Day 2:
Beep! Chris's watch illuminates and sings it alert to let us know it is time to rise and shine a new game day. The actual first morning was exciting. Both of us felt like this was going to be a great trip. Teeth brushed, faces washed, we walked to the camp house kitchen for our eggs, bacon, and toast. Of course only one of us really eats breakfast and even though I proudly carried my protein drink in, I could turn away from the awesome smell of home cooking. Yes, I sipped on that green thick protein shake like a real exercise, organic fitness nut should but believe me.....I was not giving up the breakfast prepared to keep most hunters going. I knew I needed it.

Post breakfast, Chris showered to remove all traces of himself. We bought the soap that was advertising to eliminate human odor. I had done so the night before. What harm if I didn't use my girly soap. And of course I was falling into the "huntress" mode as I should. Little did I realize that maybe those creatures of the range who were known to be grass eaters might recognize eggs and bacon on me.

For the next few mornings, the ritual would be the same. Breakfast, Stands, Spot and Stalk or Blinds, and then Stands again followed up by Dinner. Somewhere in between we would snack on sandwiches made from the previous night's dinner. All good, but the whole day was filled and sleep afterwards didn't take long.

Paul put Chris in a what they called a sure shot stand this time. It was suppose to deliver good results and the guides had seen big white tails coming close previously. My nerves heightened as I realized I would be sitting in a stand by myself. With very little experience in a tree stand and certainly not shooting from one, it was one of those moments you either "do it" or go home. The safety vest didn't comfort me too much. I had watched the video of how to use it and put it on several times at home but until you actually put it on and climb into a tree stand, there is a certain amount of girly OMGs going through my head. Plus, this was all done early before sunrise, in the dark, by myself. Just to complete the whole huntress persona, I tried to move methodically without a trace of nervousness. I didn't want to let the rest of my fellow "women wearing diamonds carrying arms" down.

I made so much noise. I am sure I did. All I saw was little girly deer who never got close. My strategy to be a quiet, calm, stealthy huntress didn't quite pan out. Sadly, Chris's experience didn't pan out either. The formally great possibilities from his stand turned into a morning of quiet relaxations and mental awareness. We were away from work and other life stressors. Just feeling the cool fall mornings seemed enough for this first morning. Even so, the guide was shocked that we didn't see much and the only reason they could think that hindered the movement of deer was that big fat glowing moon that filling out to it's full expanse. The animal kingdom had lots of light to decide when they would eat and when they could move.

Okay, enough! Time to hunt. Time to outwit the animal kingdom. Right? Yeah, right.....

Noon, we both got put into ground level blinds, separately of course, close to small water holes to see if the antelope would get thirsty. It was still one of those warmer days that would be left that week. End of week expectations were cooler days and rain.

So there I sat. With high hopes, I tried earnestly to sit quietly while I texted my mother in law and kids. Even though I had no cell phone coverage or data availability in camp, I noticed I could text. So while I waited for the little antelope to get their thirst on, I sent ma and the kids messages of "hi", "we are having a great time", and "pray for us to get our animals early". Playing Solitaire and Sudoku  also help keep the boredom down. I discovered if I just sat there, sleepiness would ensue and nothing would come into sight. This isn't something that is taught in hunter courses or handed down by wise hunters. It was just something I discovered. After an hour of games, all of sudden I glanced to my right and saw two antelope slowly making their way across the field. They never came close. My initial thought was cool but then I realized that I may never get a shot if that is as close as they come. My best shot at this point would be a 20 to 40 yard shot, but not anything past that. Those two were at 70 yards and nothing closer.

Then after another hour passed, it happened. A small antlered pronghorn came in on my right side. I watched as he moved in and contemplated my shot. Even though, he was way smaller than I had seen in magazines and in the fields the last time we were here, I said to myself that I would take the shot if he gave it to me. How could I not. I needed to not be greedy. As I slipped into a knee position and ranged him I decided to just look to my left to make sure I didn't miss anything there. If there was an antelope on my left and it saw me moving, it might spook the one I was aiming for. I slightly turned my head to the left and quickly glanced over. There standing 20 yards was a bigger antelope. There was no evidence that he knew I was there. My heart pounded.

Slowly I turned and it was not a slow quiet turn. My knees cracked. I bumped the mental part of the chair. All I could be thankful for was the windmill that was creaking. By now, the trophy was quartering away slightly. On one knee, I ranged again. At 21 yards, facing away with a slight quartering, I pulled back my Martin and aimed at his left shoulder. The pink Victory arrow flew. The antelope jumped high and took off but I knew I hit him. This being my first hit, I first thought I hit too far back. My shot was right but to see it actually hit made me cringe that I may have gut shot him. I forgot at that moment that the gut shot angle traveled to his left lung. It had to happen. It happened all so fast. The animal raced off around the little waterhole as the other animal on my right met up with him and they both went over a knoll. That was the path I memorized. At that point, I just bent over shaking taking deep breaths. I did it. I did it.

All the things Chris has been telling me about what to do post shot came flooding back to me. Okay, don't just jump up and go after him. I had watched his path as he raced away, so that was the best I could do. At this moment I realized Paul had not said when to call him if I got an animal down. So I called and left a message. He didn't answer his phone and I was glad because I was so excited and my adrenaline was pumping that I would have probably cried but given time for his voice mail to come gave me a moment to collect myself.

After about 15 minutes, I slowly climbed out of the blind. Traced my steps to where I know I shot my pronghorn and found my arrow broken into within 10 to 20 yards away. Bloody and signs of gut all over both pieces. I cringed. I placed rock piles for each spot in case the guide would ask. After another 10 minutes, I decided it was time to look over the knoll. Slowly, and quietly I made my way over. There he was lying still only 70 yards from the blind over the knoll. He didn't move as I made my way closer.

I took a few pictures but they were no way as cool as the one the guide took later. Being the good hunter, I tagged my animal, took down the blind and waited for the guide.

Chris was as fortunate but he thrilled to the trophy on the front of the guide's suburban. My story ensued as we took it back to camp. For a short moment, I was the queen.

More to come.....

Bear Hunt

May 16th - 19th

We went out on our yearly bear hunt out of Prince William Sound. It was a great time once again. Chris and I both had our chance at a nice bear but found ourselves complexed at our own abilities. The Heman-Superman gone a few shots off 225yds up hill and I stood 19 yards from a blackie and never even pulled my bow back. Next year will be different.

Sharie Morton

Create Your Badge

North to the Alaska "Haul Road" Day Two

The camper worked out well other than the battery draining for an unknown reason thus causing the low battery beep to start chiming around 4am. And since we were without a trailer towing our supplies, much of our gear was now stored in the camper bath. So with the fact that the bathroom was right next to Doug's bed and it was not easily accessible or roomy, I decided to make use of the big wild wide outdoors for the elimination of personal excess from the night and day before.
Originally, I whined enough before we left on the hunt about the use of the toilet facilities. It was brought to my attention that "the guys" never before on these hunts used the camper toilet because it wasted good use of storage area to take more things. This of course was a surprise to me. I was sure that if you have a workable toilet, it surely is a good thing to use and not expose yourself to the elements of the wilderness. Googling the "haul road" even allowed me to see that there weren't a lot of trees to hide behind. It is a tundra and there are wild things out there. Well, Chris agreed after talking to the camper owner, that the restroom would be usable and functionally. Plans changed.
Shovel in one hand and tissue roll in other, I made my way into the foggy morning to experience the ultimate in "haul road" lessons. Find coverage, dig a hole, and hope that a creature in nature doesn't disturb you. Okay, okay, so I'm not really a princess.....

For several hours we sat and watched Caribou several hundred yards away across the river from our camp site. We managed to even see many up on the hills beyond slowly making their way down to the river. Large and small grazing without concern. Their front white manes showed up so well against the Fall colors of the tundra and the grays of the mountains. Tips of red flashed occasionally letting all know the rut season was near. Waiting was long. You could feel energy uprising as the tall creatures made their way across the "Sag" or the Sagavanirktok. Without reason, as soon as they crossed, they headed for the highway in a total different direction than what we anticipated. By no fault of ours. The wind was towards us, we sat so quietly, and no other hunter seemed to be stalking them. They just knew. The river was crossed and it was time for them to cross the most dangerous areas. The Haul road. Truckers, hunters, and wide open spaces......

Day Three

I slept really well in that camper! The mattress was great. I begged Chris to use flannel sheet and blankets instead of sleeping bags. So I stayed warmmmmmm. He thinks I have a built in furnace but I think it is him. Snuggling is so much better in blankets than in Sleeping bags.

This day we saw a few more Ptarmigans, Foxes, and a lot of Musk Ox. It was very cool seeing all the wild life.

North to the Alaska "Haul Road"

Day one

Road trip to the "haul road" started about 830pm Tuesday night September 8th. Chris and Doug loaded the camper totally full. Everything nice and packed tightly for the bumpy road. Doug's Costco trailer crammed with empty coolers, extra gas, several tires for the truck and trailers in case of flats, and fire wood. All I could think was "WOW", I was going to be safe and sound. These guys thought of everything. My only concern was how well I could perform in what I always thought (before I met Chris) was the Man's world up north.

To prepare myself, I had a drink before we left. I was thinking my nerves were a little shot. How was I to know what to REALLY expect. I mean, men tell stories about hunting and I know they elaborate, but I was very aware at 830pm on Tuesday night that there would be no turning around. Once we get there...we are there. If I didn't like it, I couldn't do anything but trudge through. My experience was going to be what I made it, ultimately.

Trouble # 1

My martini with olives and onions was just the ticket to a nice sleeping mode the first three hours on the road. Doug drove first and I could hear him and Chris talking a little but soon I was relaxed enough to not care where we were going. Chris slept a little but since I had the back seat with pillows, he slept sitting up in the front. Then it happened. Three hours into the drive, in the dark, loaded down with all the gear we could ever think we might need.....the truck stops. Now, remember I had had a drink so I am not sure the full story of what happened to make it poop out, but we were in the dark sitting on the side of the Parks Highway and the truck would not turned over. I think I heard them say "ut oh". For some reason, that didn't sound good in the dark. It seems that when you switch to the second tank of gas on Doug's diesel truck, you are not suppose to wait until it is completely empty.

Remember this girls when you drive a diesel with two gas tanks.


After waiting, going through all the fuses because that is what guys do, and attempting to wave down a tow drive that already had a vehicle with man loaded for a fix it place somewhere in the dark; Doug tried again to crank the switch when it worked. Thank you to the angels watching over me. Of course, I was still in a stupor and at that point wasn't sure that it was okay that it cranked due to us pushing forward down to the destination.

Chris drove from Cantwell to Fairbanks. I slept a little more but was now in the passenger front seat. Doug was out in the back. Then my turn came. I got the most exciting part of the drive. It was dark, I had never driven or seen the area above Fairbanks, and I got to enter the "Haul road" being the only one awake. I drove all the way to the Yukon. The sun was coming up over the mountains. Most of the time, I listened to some of the CDs already in the truck but still some of my favorite country music. The Yukon was gorgeous! I never knew it was as wild as it was. You could see land forever as you top the hill before the bridge. At this moment, I was glad to be along with guys and able to experience was they have seen before.

Trouble #2

Then it happened. I heard the "ut oh" again. Now we had another problem. The trailer had not only lost a tire but the rim was completely destroyed. I had driven the haul road alright. And I had driven the tire right off. The weird thing is I never felt the trailer messing up or teetering funny. In fact you couldn't even see the trailer from the cab due to the camper on the back of the trailer. The guys were great. They reassured me that I couldn't have known. We were just fortunate that the trailer didn't dump all our coolers and other supplies. Good thing they brought four extra tire for the trailer.


Ladies, would we have thought of that?

So the extra tires came in handy ....up to this point.

Next we drove into Coldfoot where I ate the biggest pancake ever placed before. Most of my friends know I love french toast from Snow City Cafe, but now I will forever be craving the drive to Coldfoot just to get my pancake!

After I engulfed this hefty breakfast with Chris shaking his head in disbelief, we headed on up the road to make it to the official hunting grounds. Namely where ever the caribou roamed.

Trouble #3

A few miles later, we pulled off the road to take what would be my first of many beside-the-road potty breaks. There we discovered that the advice of a friend to not pull the trailer was the correct advice we didn't heed. The bearing cap on the tire we changed had came off somewhere after Coldfoot. Dirt was on the bearings and grease was splattering out. So the trailer had to be ditched. There we had to choose the most important items from the trailer and what could be left behind. Firewood was important. So were the coolers because we were hoping to get meat. In the end, we stuffed the camper even tighter than we thought we could. It was impossible to walk inside without climbing over tires, supply boxes, and gas cans. Everyone kept their cool and I didn't whine.

Eventually, we headed more into the stomping grounds of tundra, caribou, and true Alaskan Big Sky. The sun was shining from every direction. Trucks, work equipment, and tons of hunting vehicles rambled up and down the dusty gravel road kicking up gray matter with a mission. Now, I was up in my seat. Chris had already made a stop for us to gather our bows, arrows, and release for the lucky chance we might see "something to shoot". The rules were clear. My education in bow hunting gave me insight into what I could shoot, when I could shoot, and when I should or shouldn't shoot. I felt ready and after almost two years of practicing with my Diamond bow, I was ready to be called a hunter and not just a shooter.

As Chris drove, all of a sudden he and Doug were all excited telling me "get your bow!" The next thing I knew, I was walking the tundra trying to sneak up on a few Ptarmigan or as I have always called them...."Snow Chickens". Their breast were white and their top feathers were mottled with gray, black and whites colors. They had long necks and only one could be seen at first as the sentry. Doug and I had to look for a few moments because we actually passed them in the truck and had to walk back and relocate them. Once we had them and I think Doug and I spotted the sentry at the same time, then we lifted our bows. Without as much as a thought, I pulled my string back, aimed and released. POP!! or as some bow hunters say...."thunk!" (small thunk since Ptarmigan are small). Finally, I was a hunter. Then I saw more and since the limit was 20, I went for it. My total was 3 for the day.

Forgot something. Once you kill it, you have to dress it. ........that is for tomorrow.

One more thing, I got kind of crazy with the first caribou I saw. I begged Chris to take me out and try to go after it. Fools choice but Chris indulged me. We scampered over 200 yards of tundra attempting to hide behind every little bush, with the caribou remaining always 200 yards away. Of course, I wasn't alone in the chase...4 other hunters were after him. It was a hoot to see the bunch of us running after it. The caribou probably thought it was usual for the day and made it a habit to humiliate a few hunters every day. But to make matters worse, my overly excited predator persona was really amuse when low and behold as we were driving away we saw a huge caribou standing all by itself. White beard and broad side. Chris put the brakes on. We all lifted our binoculars and then saw a man walking away from it. It was a decoy!.......Hunting is a hoot!

To end the day, we found a pull out, set up camp, and sat by the fire discussing our day.

My Married Life

So, here I am again. Studying away. Joining the millions of 40 somethings attempting to keep their minds active while denying the inevitable aging process. Hoping that the aging process doesn't affect the mind like it seems to with so many. The occassional lost of keys is not what I am talking about.........

.......oh, what was I saying?

Chris and I have been together for over 2 years...almost 3 by December. It has been so easy being with him. Sometimes I wonder if it is because we are really, really in love or because we are just mature enough to recognize that it doesn't work to sweat the small things. I like to think we are really, really in love. Chris probably leans more to the logical thought that we are mature (or at least he is) enough to behave correctly, give room when room is needed, and allow for scratchy behaviors occassionally from the other.

No matter what.....I love him.

Montana

The Ranch was a beautiful way to renew myself, gain some insight about my loved ones, review what is most important in life. There is no way I could ever put into words the settling of my spirit. Big skies, warm weather, gentle beings all around me both in human and various creature form. Even the sound of the crickets were music to my thoughts. I appreciated the nibble of horses....the smell of sage....and gift of love given to me by the grannies.

The Brazilian writer Paulo Coelho once said, “When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are ...not ready. The challenge will not wait.”.