Cam relates the story:

My parents got me out of bed at 5:00 in the morning and we headed up to the mountains. It was so cold that there was ice on the ground and I had to wear gloves. Our friend, Gerry, had his dogs on the dog box in the back of his truck. We drove around and tried to find a bear. Finally, around 10:00, the dogs got a bear’s scent and started the chase. They treed the bear after about 45 minutes. We got under the tree and I put the cross hairs of my .243 on it and I pulled the trigger. I hit it in the right shoulder and it fell out of the tree. I was really excited and my mom was video taping the whole thing. The dogs were going crazy. The bear fell down out of the tree and rolled down the hill. Then Gerry let the dogs have a go at the dead bear as their reward for a good job. After that we took pictures and then skinned it. I was really happy to fill my first bear tag.

Well done Cameron! This is the first of many I can tell!

Bret shared his story, which undoubtedly will make it into Relentless 365, the California hunting magazine. It truly is a story of perseverance.

My hands have finally quit shaking enough that I can type! (this is no joke, after I shot it, I borrowed Jack’s cell phone but couldn’t type in the numbers as I was shaking so bad) Started out Saturday with Bill, Dave, Doug and Myself, the wind was about 40-50 mph with rain but we still saw sheep. Bill and Dave saw 7 ewes and 1 small ram and Doug and I saw a group of 3 med rams then 5 rams with a shooter. We were about 800yds away and we snuck up when they went behind the ridge but blew it when we came out of the first gulley the same time the sheep were coming out of the second gully, Busted!

Sunday Doug and I spotted a big ram about a mile away, and he stayed at the scope while I did a 2 mile end around to get on him. When I got into position the sheep changed course from coming across the face right at me to going straight down. Now I had them at 240 yds in the open and I was stuck. When they went out of sight I started after them but they gave me the slip in a couple of canyons and ended up crossing by Doug (of course!)

Now Jack showed up and Bill, Dave, and Doug had to leave to go to work. We ended up going back about a half mile to get my pack that I had dropped for the stalk. We decided to go further down the ridge line when Jack spotted a group of sheep with 3 giant rams! We started after them but hit some cliffs and since it was already 2:30pm and my legs were like jello from the last stalk we decided to head back to camp and try this southern area in the morning. The next morning we hiked from south to north on the same ridges we were hunting and not one single sheep! They all disappeared! we didn’t know if the scent from all of the scouting on sat and sun buggered them up or what. At this point we had seen about 51 sheep between the five of us over two days, but nothing on day 3.

Day 4, Oh Boy! Started out even farther south where the 3 big rams had been and I saw a sheep disappear over the ridge. I snuck up close took off my boots, climbed a cliff, carefully walked over knowing they would be right below the cliff I was on, and I’m thinking its the group with the rams, but as I ease over, 28 yards away are 9 ewes and lambs! No Rams AHHHGGGG!. I walk back to Jack who is staring at the group of ewes who had run around the edge right at him, no camera handy of course! as we discuss our next move we walk over to a ridge to look beyond and Jack throws his glasses up and says hey! there’s the 3 big rams! about a mile away bedded just off the ridge top (my hands are starting to shake again) We know this ridge now and plan a course that will take us up the other side of the top so we can sneak in. after about a mile and half walk we get there but some sheep are on our side now. We hold tight till they walk out of view then take off to our right to go around the nob to cut them off.
When we get there we can’t see them so I start stalking around the face with Jack about 20 yards behind. I feel I running out of room and they should bed close so I drop to my Knees and start scooting around the hill when I see sheep backs! I look back at Jack who’s standing about 30 yards behind me and signal to get down the sheep are right in front of me. I scoot a little closer and see a ewe and she is staring thru my bush and know something is wrong! then she just walks up to 10 yards to look over my little bit of cover ( a foot and a half tall scrub) right at me and blows out with 25 sheep! And the 3 giant rams are in the group (we thought there were only 7 sheep) I’m at full draw swinging on them thinking, no I can’t take a shot like this when they stop! I let down range it for 60 yds but shoot 57 (thank god I just bought this rangefinder with arc!) at one of the Giant rams who is in front and hit him perfect height but back in the liver. I see the blood spot immediately and know its a fatal hit! The whole herd runs down this super steep canyon then stops when he gets all weebly woobly then he walks over to a bush and lays down. He lifted his head twice while we were watching then lights out!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m not an experience sheep hunter and figured he was about 165″, when the biologist scored him at 180 7/8″ I about crapped my pants! Now, not only am I floating on air, I’m doing back flips at the same time!

Well I can’t write anymore as I’m starting to shake again so here are a couple of pics

Bret with his hunting partner Jack Hankins and Bret's record book Desert Bighorn Ram

It was probably good Bret felt like he was walking on air, because this looks like a heavy load!

Taxidermy artist Forest Farnsworth of International Big Game Studio with my 2010 California Tule Elk

Around Halloween I called my taxidermist, Forest Farnsworth , of International Big Game Studio and he informed me my cape was back from the tannery. I delivered the antlers and he promised I’d have the finished product before Christmas.
This week he left a message that my mount was ready to pick up.

After a 30 mile drive home and more than a few glances on the highway (and one thumbs up), My wife and daughters picked the perfect spot for him.

You notice he has a short “summer coat” rather than a long heavy neck mane. His antlers aren’t dark like my Wyoming bulls who polished their tips on burned pine trees. In fact they are dry, and seem to gather a light alkali dust. This surely has something to do withthe dry desert environment and the mineral deficiencies that make these tule elk’s antlers more prone to breakage.

I will admit, I never thought I would ever mount a 240 inch bull elk, and I never thought the first elk I would have mounted would be from California. But the memory of the epic hunt will last forever…

Tony is nearly dwarfed by his 2011 California black bear.

This is a special SWH edition because I was there when it happened!  Tony was introduced to me by our common friend Kirk Edgerton.  When Kirk and I planned a weekend bear hunt in the Sierras, he mentioned that Tony was coming along.  It was the second to last weekend of deer season, they both had deer and bear tags for the area, and I had a bear tag.

We split up in the morning at daylight and met up later at around noon.  Tony and Kirk had seen numerous deer but no legal bucks.  They also had spotted 3 bears across the canyon.  We decided that finding a vantage point to watch for the rest of the day was a good idea.  Tony and I went to the cliff over the canyon while Kirk went to find a buck napping along the ridge crest.

As the sun dropped and the shadows grew long, we heard, then saw a doe eighty yards below us on a trail.  We knew the critters would be moving more as the hot day cooled.  Soon Tony spotted three bears across the canyon.  600 yards straight line, but probably a mile through the canyon.  They were moving through brush and trees and the day was getting late, so we simply watched them disappear in the trees.

Shortly after we heard movement below us.  It sounded like a buck raking brush, but then changed to a steady walking gait of something BIG going through the manzanita.   We watched the mountainside below us for what seemed like hours when a black spot moved 150 yards below.

“Get above  it there so you can get a shot. ” whispered Tony

As I turned to get up, rocks rolled under my feet and I looked back to see Tony with his rifle at his shoulder and knew the bear was alerted.  I watched him fire and knew he had made a killing shot.  One more shot for insurance and the dust began to settle.  He apologized profusely but I was happy for my friend who was successful.  Now we had to get the sucker skinned and quartered and up out of the canyon, with less than an hour of daylight left.  It was fixing to be a late night.

From Left to Right, Tony Elwell, John C. Martin, and Kirk Edgerton. You can see the cliff above where Tony shot from.

When we got down to the bear, close inspection revealed a big, fat, old, sow with discolored and broken teeth, a jet black coat with two white chest patches , and probably a 300# carcass with a 4-6 inch layer of fat over her entire body.  Kirk arrived within minutes and we had a photo session after struggling to position the rolling body on the steep brushy hillside.  Between the three of us we had the bear skinned and  quartered in short time, with the meat and skull packed in our three backpacks. We hiked up out of the canyon and back the three miles to the pickup as darkness fell.

Headed back to the truck with packs full of bear meat

www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkzQ03JqzTs

The other night in an undisclosed location, my three daughters and I happened across a bit of deer behavior that has always fascinated me. Two bucks sparring.

Now this was not the knock down-drag out brawl that goes on during the rut. These two forked horn bucks are probably 2 years old an they are just warming up with some light shoving matches. However , it is still fascinating to watch.
Also entertaining is the commentary provided by my two daughters ages 5 and 11 in the background. The video is nearly seven and a half minutes. Hope you enjoy it.

Stan Moody  is a “neighbor kid” who I have watched grow up hunting deer in the local area and I’ve enjoyed seeing him take on the challenge of archery. I was elated to hear he had killed his first archery buck this season.

I was hunting down my favorite old logging road on our ranch in Sonoma County. I love hunting through the trees in the late afternoon. About an hour into the hunt, I came around a bend and saw a nice buck standing down off the road to my left; he didn’t see or hear me. I had missed a buck in this same spot last year at about 40 yards. This buck was a little farther away so I drew back my bow and used the 50 yard pin. I was borrowing my brother’s brand new Diamond Outlaw Bow with Grim Reaper tips. I released and hit the buck in the front shoulder. He ran just a little ways down the hill and dropped. I was pretty excited. This was my first kill with a bow. The buck is only a 2 x 2 but beautiful horns in full velvet.

Adrienne and her husband Hans have just opened an archery shop in Petaluma called Avid Bowhunter.   For the fiorst time in a few years we now have an archery shop that is owned by avid hunters and Archers. 

Check out their Facebook Page.  Tell ‘em the Western Wanderer sent you!

Adrienne tells the story of her 2010 California  Blacktail.

As the B Zone archery deer season was approaching, my husband and I did our annual organization of our hunting gear. We were getting ready to leave for the weekend when I pulled my tags out. I was PLEASANTLY surprised to find that what I thought was a regular B Zone tag was actually a late-season blacktail archery tag (since I am the reporter of tag results in our hunting group, I’m not really sure how that happened). Anyway, after I did a little dance and my husband called all of his friends, I started to prepare. Conveniently, I won a new Mathews Passion from a TV show on The Outdoor Channel a few weeks later and I knew that this was going to be a lucky season.

Two months later, we ended up at a ranch where we had done a few weeks of scouting. On opening morning, I found myself side-hilling for several hours (Western hunters know ALL about that) through the steep, oak-studded hills. We were seeing several does and a handful of bucks but it didn’t seem like they were in full rut yet. Later in the day, we came close to a buck with pretty big forks, but were given away by the does as usual.

Sunday morning, my husband and I disagreed for about 20 minutes about which side of the hill we should hunt first. As it turned out, I was right! It was just shooting time on a foggy morning when we came around the corner in our Yamaha Rhino to see a doe standing on the road. We stopped the bike and watched her for a minute. That’s when we saw something move behind the bushes and we both knew what it was. I grabbed my bow and we both knew the plan. My husband keeps driving so the buck watches him and I jump out. Just then, the buck ran onto the road, saw us, and headed down the steep, grassy hill. I ran up to the edge of the road, saw him broadside at about 20 yards, and took my shot. I heard my 1.5” Rage broadhead deploy and my husband said, “You got him!” We went down the hill looking for blood or an arrow and found NOTHING, which was quite discouraging. My husband motioned to me to stop and we heard some branches cracking. He motioned to me that the buck was going down, which was quite amusing in itself!

After waiting an hour or so (which felt like 5 hours), I stayed up on the point, overlooking the draw while my husband went around to look for him. I watched patiently for a buck to come staggering out of the trees but saw nothing. About 20 minutes later, my husband yelled, “big buck down!” and I literally jumped up and down with excitement. I ran down the hill with my Badlands pack, knives, and water, ready to get him out of the canyon (it’s funny how difficult that steep hill was to maneuver on before I shot my buck). As the fog went out again, I saw the silhouette of my trusty guide and hunting partner dragging my buck out of the treeline. We dragged him up the hill to the road and celebrated. Just for a moment, I saw a look in my husband’s eye that told me that this buck MAY be the bigger blacktail to soon be on our wall.

As all hunters know (particularly Western hunters), it is a moment that we are so thankful for when the stars align, the opportunity presents itself, and all of your hard work and dedication pay off. I now have a 4X4 blacktail buck at the taxidermist and an experience that cannot be replicated. My husband and I have spent many days in the field together, but this was a memory that neither one of us will soon forget.

Cindy writes about her buck:

We spotted my buck about 9:00 in the morning, feeding about 3/4 of
a mile away. We figured out my stalking route, and I spent about two and a half hours getting into position. After getting close to the buck (and I’m
talking bow range), I sat and waited about an hour for him to stand up.
When he finally did, he stood and looked straight at me. I panicked,
and MISSED the shot. I was devastated.

But luckily, Rich had watched where the buck ran off to, so after getting myself together, I made another stalk to the buck’s new hiding spot. This time the buck wasn’t going to stand up though. By 5:30 that evening, I knew he was going to wait until dark to come out from his hiding place. So, at that point, I decided to sneak and peak and try to get him up. But he wasn’t exactly where we had seen him bed down earlier.

He must have moved when we weren’t watching. So for about 20 minutes, I still hunted through that sage, but that wily old buck was holding like a pheasant. Finally, Ihad to admit defeat. He must have moved out of that draw and we didn’tsee him. Before heading back to the truck though, I decided to really rattle that buck if he was still around, so I let out a few loud yells.
A doe and fawn jumped up, but no buck. So, I started heading back to
pick up my pack and boots (I had shed both earlier for a quieter
stalk). Suddenly, I saw that sneaky old buck back-dooring me down the
canyon. I knew he was going to go low and cross the draw and then head
up the other side. I ran as fast as I could (in my socks) to intercept
him. I knew my only hope was that I could catch him crossing the bottom
of the draw; after that he’d be too far.

The small ridge I was on came
to a drop off, and that’s where I found a clear piece of dirt to plunk
myself down on and get my rifle up on my knees. The buck was already
crossing the draw at a trot. I didn’t range him, but I knew it would be
a relatively long shot for a muzzle loader (and for me!). And, the buck
was moving. This was throwing out a prayer, for sure! I didn’t have
time to think about it much, or get any kind of buck fever, thank
goodness. I just aimed the gun at the trotting buck, and knew I had to
time it right. I followed the buck with the gun; bounce, bounce,
bounce, BOOM! And then I heard the tell-tale thump! I had hit him.

He
ran up the other side of the draw about 40 yards and stopped. Then his
front legs wobbled and down he went! It was probably one of the most
amazing shots of my life. The bullet had entered right behind the last
rib and exited through the opposing shoulder. Needless to say, we are
still on Cloud Nine!

We spotted Rich’s buck about 12:00 noon, bedded in a bowl up on a
mountain in some sage brush. Unfortunately, the buck was bedded in such
a way that it was hard to approach him without being busted. However,
Rich got in as close as he could, on hands and knees. He got to within
176 yards, but couldn’t get any farther. Rich waited in that spot for
about an hour, and then the buck got up to feed. Rich felt that he
could make the shot with his muzzle loader, so when the buck turned
broadside, Rich leveled his open sights on the buck and squeezed off the
trigger. After the smoke cleared, Rich watched the buck run up the hill
about 30 yards and just stand there. Moments later, the buck collapsed
and rolled down the hillside. Rich had made a perfect double-lung
shot. We were both ecstatic to have one of our tags filled.

Young Meg Groverman was excited about her first deer tag.  From the get -go she was determined to get a deer, and she told her father she would be the one doing the field dressing chores.  You have to respect that from a seventh grader. 

On the second to last weekend of the California A-zone Season, Meg and her father Bill had been hunting hard all season.  Meg had the chance to get a shot , and hit her buck.  After a follow up shot the buck was down.  As they were on their way back to the truck, another buck showed himself, and Bill got him!

If there is anything more special than a daughters first buck, it could be a dad and daughter double.