Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Grand Slam! Part 4
With disappointment taking over our once high spirits, we didn’t give up. Instead, we went on the ridge to the left and glassed for those sheep and any others that might be with them. A few hours later, Shawn spotted them. They were feeding near the same area, just giving us the slip all afternoon! So with our feet following our excitement, we headed down the trail as fast as we could. We arrived at camp and threw, yes threw, everything we didn’t need out of our heavy packs and took our light packs up the hill after these sheep. With just two hours of shooting light left, we had to be fast, but also careful. We made it to the top of the ridge and spotted all six rams ‘bout nine hundred yards away. Dustin thought he could get us a bit closer. Yet instead of walking on the nice grassy side of the mountain, he suggested we cross over into the cliffs. Yes, vertical cliffs! As Dad and I contemplated the cliffs, he made the comment, “Don’t worry Sara, if you fall, you’ll roll at least half a mile. It’s not the fall you have to worry ‘bout, it’s the landing.”
Final Sheep! Part 3
We hiked further the following day, and looking back at our starting spot, we were in there a good fifteen miles. An hour later, after getting on top of the mountain, we all sat down to glass. Shawn and Dustin went for a little hike, which was actually a run, and spotted four rams five miles away just west of our location. We were all so excited and went back to camp and made a plan to head over there the next day. After several hours of glassing, to our dismay, we never saw those sheep again. Instead of waiting for a miracle, we decided to make this happen, so we started hiking again. Instead of going straight up the mountain, we were blessed to be “side-hilling it”. We found a level spot and made camp, that way we could have two options, going to the right or the left. Shawn and Dustin had a good feeling about the right, so that’s the way we went! Trailing behind the two twenty-year- olds is a real hard task. While my daddy and I were huffing it, the boys were already spotting! They spotted a group of six rams, right below us, and motioned for us not to move. Soon Dustin came bailing off the mountain saying, “There’s an absolute toad in there, Sara!” We headed back to camp as quickly as we could to grab supplies that we would need to make a stalk when, accidently, one of the rams spotted us, causing them to run off.
Stone. Part 2
Within two minutes of making it to the cabin, all four of us were going crazy packing everything we would need. An hour later, we headed for our hunting spot.
Dustin carefully examined his maps, picked a spot to tackle the mountain, and by the grace of God, we found a trail! Our hike was filled with the beautiful lush country of the Yukon, absolutely breath taking, with virtually no sign of man, except the horse trail we were on. This trail had not been used in several years. I was ready to see some sheep! After six hours of hiking, we made camp and enjoyed some hot Mountain House and tried to stay awake. Well, that didn’t last too long! We all were sound asleep after slipping in our sleeping bags. What felt like minutes later, we were awakened by the sweet smell of morning, birds chirping, dew on the grass, and the sun peaking over the horizon. While the rest of us were enjoying our freeze dried breakfast, my other guide, Shawn, (scouting two miles away) was wishing he was already with Jesus. Just ten yards from him was a very curious, hungry grizzly bear, popping her teeth, bluff charging and foaming at the mouth. Dustin, my lead guide, was watching the entire event through his spotting scope! Not only being one of the top sheep guides in Canada, Dustin comes equipped with animal behavior advice in a timely fashion. Shawn made it to our spike camp setting a new record. I greeted him with a clean pair of underwear and a water bottle full of water, as he had been without any drinkable water the past two days.
Dustin carefully examined his maps, picked a spot to tackle the mountain, and by the grace of God, we found a trail! Our hike was filled with the beautiful lush country of the Yukon, absolutely breath taking, with virtually no sign of man, except the horse trail we were on. This trail had not been used in several years. I was ready to see some sheep! After six hours of hiking, we made camp and enjoyed some hot Mountain House and tried to stay awake. Well, that didn’t last too long! We all were sound asleep after slipping in our sleeping bags. What felt like minutes later, we were awakened by the sweet smell of morning, birds chirping, dew on the grass, and the sun peaking over the horizon. While the rest of us were enjoying our freeze dried breakfast, my other guide, Shawn, (scouting two miles away) was wishing he was already with Jesus. Just ten yards from him was a very curious, hungry grizzly bear, popping her teeth, bluff charging and foaming at the mouth. Dustin, my lead guide, was watching the entire event through his spotting scope! Not only being one of the top sheep guides in Canada, Dustin comes equipped with animal behavior advice in a timely fashion. Shawn made it to our spike camp setting a new record. I greeted him with a clean pair of underwear and a water bottle full of water, as he had been without any drinkable water the past two days.
Last of the Grand Slam part 1
A Grand Slam at fifteen years old
The Grand Slam had been a dream of mine since last year around this time. I started in August of 2009 with my Dall sheep. Then I bounced over to British Columbia and became a half slammer with my Rocky Mountain Bighorn. From there I went to Baja, Mexico and bagged a Desert Bighorn. With the Yukon Stone sheep hunt just seven months away, I began training mentally, and most importantly physically. What most people fail to realize, is sheep hunting is much more than just, “there’s one. Okay, boom!” Sheep hunting is pretty much the king of all hunting. You cannot be afraid of body odor, sweat, predators, heights, cliffs, and the feeling of your knees about to fall off. If you think you’re game to try it, then come along with me!
To everyone’s surprise, Dad and I did not miss a single flight on our way to the Yukon. Instead, we were early! We were greeted with smiling faces and big hugs by my guide, Dustin Roe and his wife, Heather. We then got a few hours of sleep, but unfortunately for me, I spent the evening dreaming of sheep and settling my heart.
The next morning we were greeted to a very early alarm, grabbed some breakfast and headed for Lappie Lake. Four hours later, we arrived at Lappie with all our gear, and to everyone’s amazement, only one incident of getting car sick. (Lucky enough for Dustin, I missed his lap, this time! In Mexico, Dustin’s lap=direct shot!)
The Grand Slam had been a dream of mine since last year around this time. I started in August of 2009 with my Dall sheep. Then I bounced over to British Columbia and became a half slammer with my Rocky Mountain Bighorn. From there I went to Baja, Mexico and bagged a Desert Bighorn. With the Yukon Stone sheep hunt just seven months away, I began training mentally, and most importantly physically. What most people fail to realize, is sheep hunting is much more than just, “there’s one. Okay, boom!” Sheep hunting is pretty much the king of all hunting. You cannot be afraid of body odor, sweat, predators, heights, cliffs, and the feeling of your knees about to fall off. If you think you’re game to try it, then come along with me!
To everyone’s surprise, Dad and I did not miss a single flight on our way to the Yukon. Instead, we were early! We were greeted with smiling faces and big hugs by my guide, Dustin Roe and his wife, Heather. We then got a few hours of sleep, but unfortunately for me, I spent the evening dreaming of sheep and settling my heart.
The next morning we were greeted to a very early alarm, grabbed some breakfast and headed for Lappie Lake. Four hours later, we arrived at Lappie with all our gear, and to everyone’s amazement, only one incident of getting car sick. (Lucky enough for Dustin, I missed his lap, this time! In Mexico, Dustin’s lap=direct shot!)
Deer! Part 3
As the sun started to set, behind the rolling hills, I became restless. I began to get worried, and impatient, seeing that I had a math final the next day, and I had not even opened my algebra book, time was precious, and my grades were in jeopardy. Disappointment soon washed over my once high spirits and right as I was out to spit out the words: “Dad, let’s go back”, the whitetail buck barreled out of the grass and trees, giving me a perfect broadside target. I quickly positioned my .260 Kimber on my rest, and became rock steady. I placed my crosshairs of my Leupold scope right behind the left shoulder, and gently squeezed the trigger. “Boom” one shot and I had taken my first deer. After the smoke cleared, then came time to celebrate. I first thanked God, for having his hand over the entire situation, and then I hugged my dad, and saw the pride in his eyes. He was so proud of me, and to this day, he says: “I would rather see my daughter’s take an animal, then I shoot it for the glory” My dad is one of the most humble men I know, and because of this I would only be honored to call him my hero. When I grow up, I hope to become a fraction of how great of a man my dad is. Humble that is, not become a man.
Whitetail Part 2
Being in the middle of December, it was cold, but like all hunters do, we make sacrifices. In preparation for sitting across the field for countless hours until the buck came out, we strapped on each and every layer of camouflage we owned. There we were, two Brandenburg puff balls walking through the unknown wheat field. We became a short one hundred yards away from the last area we saw my buck, and became still and silent, waiting for him to come out for a bite to eat.
While the time passed, another whitetail became very curious and almost blew our cover when he blew out of there just ten yards away.
While the time passed, another whitetail became very curious and almost blew our cover when he blew out of there just ten yards away.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
First deer. Part 1
My first deer
It all started when my now ex boyfriend got in the way of my hunting prows. Needless to say, I put my hunting before boys, and James was gone, sooner than he anticipated.
Although, I was fifteen years old at the time, I am insanely close with my parents, and both of them are involved in my hunting activities. My father always accompanies me, while my mother manages the businesses and does a phenomenal job in scrap booking. She creates photo albums, and videos.
It all started with my dad and I driving down towards the edge of Colorado, in my dad’s beat up, old 84 Toyota. Many men are proud of their new supped up vehicles, while my dad is proud of his rust and 470,000 miles on it, and the top speed of fifty five miles per hour. Needless to say, we counted every semi that passed us on the high way.
After a five hour drive, which should have been three hours, we arrived at our destination.
We quickly changed out of our blue jeans, and into our camouflage, and started looking into four the beloved whitetail deer. As soon as we feasted our eyes on wheat fields, rivers, and groves of trees, we spotted a heard, and quickly evaluated the bucks. There weren’t any shooters, but it was a good sign to see that many bucks.
As we were walking by a grove of trees, and four feet tall grass, we spotted a shiny ivory antlers, from the look of it, he looked like a nice wide and tall whitetail. As soon as we quit gasping, my soon to be buck disappeared, amongst the grass and trees. We kept an eye on that area of where he was and did not see him again.
We continued to keep our spirits high, and kept looking for other deer. To our dismay, we did not see any more monster whitetails, and I knew our only option was to go for the buck we saw earlier.
It all started when my now ex boyfriend got in the way of my hunting prows. Needless to say, I put my hunting before boys, and James was gone, sooner than he anticipated.
Although, I was fifteen years old at the time, I am insanely close with my parents, and both of them are involved in my hunting activities. My father always accompanies me, while my mother manages the businesses and does a phenomenal job in scrap booking. She creates photo albums, and videos.
It all started with my dad and I driving down towards the edge of Colorado, in my dad’s beat up, old 84 Toyota. Many men are proud of their new supped up vehicles, while my dad is proud of his rust and 470,000 miles on it, and the top speed of fifty five miles per hour. Needless to say, we counted every semi that passed us on the high way.
After a five hour drive, which should have been three hours, we arrived at our destination.
We quickly changed out of our blue jeans, and into our camouflage, and started looking into four the beloved whitetail deer. As soon as we feasted our eyes on wheat fields, rivers, and groves of trees, we spotted a heard, and quickly evaluated the bucks. There weren’t any shooters, but it was a good sign to see that many bucks.
As we were walking by a grove of trees, and four feet tall grass, we spotted a shiny ivory antlers, from the look of it, he looked like a nice wide and tall whitetail. As soon as we quit gasping, my soon to be buck disappeared, amongst the grass and trees. We kept an eye on that area of where he was and did not see him again.
We continued to keep our spirits high, and kept looking for other deer. To our dismay, we did not see any more monster whitetails, and I knew our only option was to go for the buck we saw earlier.
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