I admit, I’ve been a blogging disaster lately. It’s turkey season, I’ve had a busy docket, and there hasn’t been much free time for writing. I’ve got some fun pictures, some turkey stories, and the 2010 Hall of Fame post working… but before I can get to them I need to close out a couple of posts from this past fall.
Since it’s been awhile here’s a recap: In Part 1 we broke down in the mountains, had a few days of slow hunting, and put one good bull in the dirt. In Part 2 I made a good spot, an OK stalk, a bad decision, and was lucky to get a second chance that I cashed in on.
So we were down to the last two days of the season. In Colorado the first rifle season is only 5 days long so you’ve got to get after it. Last time we made this trip The Old Man went down to the last light before making a long shot on a great bull.
This time we found ourself ontop of a ridge in the early afternoon that leads down several draws. We were peaking into an empty canyon when I thought I heard a bugle. I looked at The Old Man and neither of us were sure. Then a second bugle, and we were sure. It sounded like the next big drainage over from the one we were in. We rounded up our expert, talked about it briefly, and headed down the ridge in that direction.
As soon as we could see into the draw it was easy to isolate the sound of the bugle. He was side-hilling towards us at about our elevation. He broke out of the timber at 350 yards and I had my binos on him waiting for the shot. The Old Man was sitting a few feet below me with his shooting sticks set up, expecting the bull to walk into a meadow just down hill from us. He apparently couldn’t see the bull but they were sure the bull would come into the clearing anyway. He got into some timber and I couldn’t see him, but before long cows started appearing the clearing and it was obvious he was headed that way. A few minutes later he walked into the open at 200 yards or so. He was still bugling regularly, but now there was another bugle down hill. I kept waiting for him to shoot, and he kept not shooting, but the bull was slowly working his way closer the whole time. Then a second bull came into the open. He was smaller than the first, and also pushing cows. The new bull agitated the whole situation and before long cows were up at our level and spread out on the hillside. They caught wind of us and crashed off but the bull paused in response to a chirp from our direction. The Old Man made a good shot, on the right bull, just as everything was blowing up.
The kid to his left was really the brains behind both of our bulls. He’s a rodeo kid from Ohio who is as tough as 150 pounds can be. He stopped that bull for The Old Man, and kept me from making a disaster from my first shot. It was our second time hunting with him, and it’s been a pleasure both times.
This was one of the neatest wildlife experiences I’ve ever had. Two shooter bulls inside 200 yards, both screaming, with 15-20 cows, some much too close, a beautiful day, a good shot… The whole thing was like you read about in magazines. My heart was pounding and my gun was back at camp!
Anyway, we took some pictures, quartered him, and got back after dark. The next morning we got him off the mountain with the help of some pack horses and started for Kansas City. Our group of 6 killed 4 bulls although one of the unsucessful hunters had a couple of opportunities, and the other was hobbled by by injury.
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