By: Bears Butt

 

It has come to my attention that in my stories I mention animals and such and some of the readers of this material don’t quite know just what it is that I’m talking about.  You know who you are.

For instance, the case in point is what is the difference between a “beaver” and a “wood chuck”?  Of course a quick glance through the electronic world we live in would quickly show you the difference in how both animals look, what their scientific names are, where they inhabit the world, what they eat, how many and how often they have offspring, the color of their fur, the type of feet they have, both front and rear, the size of their tails (if they have one) and any coloration differences there might be between male and females of the same species.  AND a myriad of other differences and similarities between the animals in question.

BUT…I can tell you straight out what the differences are, without your having to consult the vastness of the internet, all you have to do is make a comment on my posting and I will quickly respond to your inquiry.  My explanation will be quick and to the point.  And I will never make you feel uncomfortable about your asking.  It is my nature to not embarrass people too bad (check out my dear aunt Lenora’s posting).  Of course I might throw in bits and pieces of humor along the way, but it is all meant in good fun.

OK.  So, just what is the difference between a “Beaver” and a “Wood Chuck”?

Beaver:  A water loving creature that survives by chewing the bark off of live trees.  Barkuschewus, as some refer to them as.  Beaver can weight up to 60 plus pounds.  They have very muscular bodies, short legs and the rear feet are webbed, much like that of a duck.  The webbed feed enable the animal to swim quickly and for long distances under water, or lazily along the surface at a slow pace.  The front feet work closely with the mouth of the animal as they transport tree limbs to the beavers dam.  They commonly have short fur in the summer time, and it grows thicker as the water and air temperatures drop to freezing temps in the Fall and Winter.   As the fur thickens up, longer hair grows beyond the thick fur to allow the animals thick fur not to mat up.  These longer hairs are called “guard hair”.  The animal can groom these guard hairs with oils from its own oil glands in order to give the animals fur a water repellency.  After all these animals can not survive for too long a period outside of water ways and they need the water repellency to repel the water once they come out of it.

In winter conditions the water ways that beaver normally inhabit will freeze over, producing a thick layer  that the animal can not penetrate up through.  This is more often the case than not and so the animal has a built in seasonal habit to store food inside the waterway and under the surface of the water.  Beaver will crawl out onto the bank of the river or stream and will cut down trees that often have diameters exceeding 10 inches.  These trees are then trimmed of their upper branches and the branches are pulled into the water by the beaver.  Beaver have been known to carry tree branches as far as ¼ mile from the water.

These branches are used to build the beaver’s home, which has a large diameter base, under water and progressively gets smaller as the beaver builds it up.  When we see a beavers house sticking out of the water, we are generally seeing less than 1/3rd of it’s total size.  The beaver makes at least two entry points to allow access during the times when the water is frozen on the top of the pond.  One entry is right on the bottom of the beavers house, and another somewhere near mid level.  Other entries may be higher or lower.

Branches are also used to build dams across streams in order to back up the water and form a pond.  Beaver will place sticks across the waterway in such a fashion as to stop or slow the flow of the water.  Then using their back feet and the webs to kick up mud, rocks and debris up and against the sticks just placed.  They continue to place sticks and kick mud until the dam they are building  has a water depth that meets their expected winters frozen cap of ice.

Branches are stuck in and around the pond with the largest ends of the branches stuck down into the mud sufficiently to keep the branch in place and not float around.  Beaver are very resourceful and they keep busy, well, as a beaver.   What else do they have to do?

When winter comes and the pond freezes over, the beaver is warmly tucked away inside it’s comfy home.  When it get hungry, it dives and swims out one of the entry holes and over to a waiting branch, where it chews the bark off of it, leaving just a barren stick.  If the beaver did its pre-winter work well enough it will have plenty of food to survive until spring when the ice melts off the waters surface.

Ah, the beautiful beaver.  What value does his tail serve?  They use the flat tail for two purposes.  One to warn other beavers of danger by slapping it hard down on the surface of the water.  This is useless during winter and would only serve to sting the beaver should it slap the tail down on the frozen ice.  The second purpose is to help steer the beaver while it is swimming.  Hold your flattened hand outside the window of your car and move it around in the air as you drive along.  That is much the same way the beaver uses its tail to change its direction while swimming.

In order for a beaver to do all that chewing, they need teeth equipped well enough to get that job done.  The front, upper teeth of a beaver are about 3 inches long and up to ½ inch wide.  The lower front two teeth are about ½ the size of the upper teeth.  All four teeth are extremely sharp and shaped just like our wood chisels.  It was the design God gave the beavers teeth that man copied from in the making of our wood chisels.  The beaver keeps its teeth sharp by chewing on trees.  The chewing action causes the teeth to wear off with each bite, maintaining the length of the teeth and  at the same time keeping its shape on the edge.

A beaver can fall a tree with a 5 inch diameter in less than 2 minutes of chewing.  They begin at a point on the tree a few inches off the ground and they keep chewing in a circle around the tree until the chewing looks like the pointed ends of two ice cream cones being held together.  At some point the top of the tree can not be supported by the small base and the tree falls over.

On farms with beaver issues you will find highly irate owners with downed trees across road ways, fences and animal paths.  Water flooding pastures and farmed ground.  Owners of property that has the potential for beaver problems all own a variety of guns, traps, snares, boats and people of military experience with access to hand grenades.  Most owners also have hidden somewhere near a cache of dynamite and equipment used to detonate it.  Beaver to these owners are a pest only good for resale value and they believe in all their heart that all beaver should be destroyed and only read about in history books.   Beavers sole purpose in life is meant as target practice to these owners.  On the back bumper of most owners pickup trucks reads a decal saying: “ The Only Good Beaver is a Dead Beaver” , “Save a Tree, Eat a Beaver”,  “The Only Beaver I Like Sleeps Next to Me” or some such other statement.

Wood Chuck

HMMMMMMMM.  Wood Chuck likes wood like a beaver likes the desert.  How in the world it got the name stems from the proximity of its ground hole home to a pile of wood that had been created when the farmer cleared some ground for planting his crops.  Wood Chucks eat roots from plants growing above them as they crawl through under ground tunnels they created.   It’s the tunnel thing too that God decided a Wood Chuck should have a very short tail.  Can you imagine a Wood Chuck trying to turn around in a tunnel if he had a long fuzzy tail?  He might just get himself stuck half way around.   Wood Chuck fur is course, usually brown and mottled and no woman in her right mind would ever think about wearing around her neck.

Wood Chucks do not stock pile food for their winter captivity under piles of snow.  Wood Chucks hibernate and come out once the ground has thawed and the spring sun is beginning to warm the air.  Ever hear about Ponxatony Phil?  He is just a Wood Chuck by another name.

Actually about the only similarity between a Wood Chuck and a Beaver is they both have 4 legs and feet, two eyes, two ears, a nose, a mouth, a way to defecate and urinate,  a strong desire to mate and buck teeth.

On farms with Wood Chuck issues you will find highly irate owners with holes and tunnels in and across road ways, under fences and in animal paths.   Owners of property that has the potential for Wood Chuck problems all own a variety of guns, traps, snares,  and people of military experience with access to hand grenades.  Most owners also have hidden somewhere near a cache of dynamite and equipment used to detonate it.     A Wood Chucks sole purpose in life is meant as target practice to these owners.  There are specially made rifles and shells on the market today because shooting Wood Chucks and similar critters has become such a popular sport.  On the back bumper of most owners pickup trucks reads a decal saying: “ The Only Good Wood Chuck is a Dead Wood Chuck” , “Save a Horse a Broken Leg, Shoot a Wood Chuck”,  “I Like Your Wife, She Reminds Me of a Wood Chuck” or some such other statement.

There you have it:  Beaver = Water/ Wood Chuck = Ground Hog

So, next February 2nd, don’t think of Ponxatany Phill as a Ground Hog, think of him as a Beaver.  It will brang a big ol smile to yur face, cuz now you knowed the differnce.

Bears Butt

July 2011

Written on July 8th, 2011 , Hunting/Fishing/Trapping Stories
By: Bears Butt

 

At Utahs big game drawing in February of 2010 there were 5 Willow Creek Free Trappers who drew what we call the coveted Crawford tag and the hunt has always been coined “The Dream Hunt”.  The Crawfords is a wintering area for mulies and most of those deer migrate into the Crawford Mountains out of Wyoming.  Before the hunt begins in late November, the ones with the tags usually hope there has been adequate snow in the Wind River Range of Wyoming and surrounding areas to push the deer down and into the Crawfords.  The 5 Willow Creek Free Trappers were no different.

We had been putting our names in for the drawing for many years.  Edjukateer and I for 12 years.  Hunter for 13 years and Many Steps and Crock Riley for 7 years.  It generally takes upwards of 10 plus years to even begin to think you have a chance to draw the tag.  And Edjukateer, Hunter and I were very confident that we were headed for the Crawfords in 2010.  The surprise came when not only did the three of us draw, but so did Many Steps and Crock!  We were the happiest of happiest ones to think that 5 of us had drawn the Dream Hunt tag.  We were grinning from ear to ear and all together I’d have to say the 5 smiles put together would cover about 10 ft.

We made the most of our opportunity by heckling those who did not draw the tag.  We are quite good at heckling each other as individuals, but put 5 of us together and the rest of them just want us to “go away”.  We wanted them all to enjoy our success and so we really let them have it.

Muskrat was the one who said it in an email early in the year.  Something about “maybe those few chosen ones would come on the regular muzzlelload deer hunt and cook for us, so we could keep hunting and not have to worry about cooking”.  That was a very good lead in for us to hook onto.  And in keeping with Marine tradition, and honoring Muskrat who is an ex-marine,  the 5 of us chose the slogan:  “The Few,  The Proud,  The Chosen”!

Whenever we would meet, we would call each other a Chosen One and shake hands in traditional manners.  To say we were obnoxious to the other non-chosen is an understatement.  We were going out of our way to be just that.  Well one cannot go into the Crawfords on a hunt without Tracker going along to capture the whole event on video.  This hunt would not allow his being absent.  So, we all knew that there would be a minimum of 6 people on this hunt.  We also knew that other non-chosen ones would like to attend the event as spectators and assistant gun bearers etc.  Time dependent on how much time they would be allowed to be entertained in the Crawfords by the Chosen Ones.

It wasn’t long before the Chosen Ones decided they needed a “prop” and chose to have t-shirts made up that contained a picture of a large buck in the middle, surrounded by the words Willow Creek Free Trappers and on top of that the words The Few, The Proud, The Chosen and  below the big buck the words Crawfords 2010.  Many Steps did the design and using a big buck photo taken at a Cabellas store in Lehi, Utah and made up the words as listed.  Here is what the t-Shirt looked like:

The 6 of us were really excited now!  Not only could we heckle and harass verbally, but we could do it without saying anything, just by wearing the shirt.  The combined grinny faces are now out to about 12 feet.  We had to go a few steps further with this as well.  Shirts are just shirts unless you show them off proudly and so we set up a photo shoot at Trackers.

Left to right ending with the one sitting lower front:  Edjukateer, Crock Riley, Bears Butt, Tracker (videographer),  Hunter and Many Steps

Tracker said for many years that when someone drew the Crawford tag he would go and video the event, but when we would say,  ”This is the year I am going to draw the tag”.  He would respond with “Show me the Tag”!

The photo shoot was one in which we were to not only show off the shirts, but also to show him the tags!

Ah!  The stage is now set for some very serious heckling.  We have pictures we can email around.  Shirts to wear at our yearly events, including but not limited to:  Cache Valley Rendezvous, 4th of July, Hay hauling party, Birthdays, Family Rendezvous and of course the general muzzleload deer hunt for the non-chosen, Halloween, Thanksgiving and last but not least, the Dream Hunt itself.

Grinning face index is now at 14 ft.

As I explain the rest of our story, in the background please keep in mind that normal and un-normal events are taking place daily and at each chance we got individually and/or as a group of 2 or more we heckled and harassed.

After 7 to 13 years of trying to obtain the tag, we each knew we had to make certain our rifles were sighted in.  We chose a time to go to the Cache Valley DWR range in West Logan for this event.  They have covered benches and known distances to your target and we could take whatever time we needed to make sure our rifles would like the powder charge and bullet of choice.  Muzzleloaders may be of the same make, model, caliber etc., but one might like 90 grains of FFg powder and a 425 grain bullet and the other would throw that combination 5 ft left or right.  Every muzzleloader is different and we knew that.

We each chose our intended powder and bullets and proceeded to make sure our rifles were sighted in as good as we could.  None of us expected to put 5 bullets one on top of the other at 100 yards, but we did want to hit into a circle about as big as a basketball at that range.  I think we were all quite surprised to see that our rifles did not really like the concoction we thought they would on our first sighting in attempt.  Mine for instance was so erratic, one time my bullet would hit the bullseye and the next would miss the entire 24 inch target!  Not a good thing to have happen especially when shooting at a buck of a lifetime.  We would have to come back.

Back we were for another round.  This time with more intelligence information behind us.  Wapiti Dung suggested that the erratic performance of the bullets from my rifle was caused by the bullet not spinning fast enough as it went down range.  He suggested increasing my powder charge from 90 grains to 100 and then maybe up to 105 grains.  I raised it up to 100 grains and sure enough I had a more consistent bullet placement, but one that was still not as tight as I wanted.  And even though at that shooting event we were cleaning between shots, it wasn’t too long before the guns were fouled to a point we could not be sure the rifle was shooting as good as it could.  Many Steps and I would have to come back a third time.  Edjukateer said that his rifle was shooting good enough.

You can’t argue that at 100 yards with a muzzleloader to hit 5 times within a 4 inch area is pretty dang good.  Edjukateer says “Bring on the Hunt”!

As it turned out I could not get away and back up to the Logan range to finally sight in my rifle and neither could Many Steps.  We chose, at different times, to go up behind Mantua and find a 100 yard distance and shoot at our targets.  I increased my load to 110 grains and using a 425 grain hollow point, hollow base Great Plains bullet by Hornady.  A bullet I have used for years with much success.  The rifle I was using was new to me and I had to learn the grains of powder lesson it taught me.  My ready for the hunt target:

Many Steps target showed his shots much tighter than are mine in this picture.  I am sorry I do not have pictures of Crock, Hunter and Many Steps targets for this posting.

Time began to really slow down about this time in the year.  The hunt was coming up the Saturday before Thanksgiving and we wanted to have our camp up on the mountain and we wanted to hunt and hope to get a record size buck if we could.  We were praying for snow in the Wind River area and we got it.  The snow fell and fell up there and we knew the deer were moving into the Crawfords nose to tail.  As the days got shorter and time was drawing near, we got more and more excited.  The hunt  that 3 of us had waited  12 and 13 years for and the other two for 7 years was just about to happen.

We made all of our last minute plans and gathered up all of the supplies we new we needed and then we added more supplies just in case.  We knew it was going to be very cold and we knew too that water would freeze unless it was kept in a fairly warm environment.  We took several tanks of propane in order to keep the inside of the camp trailers somewhat warm.  We could bundle up to help stay warm, but the drinking water, food etc. needed to be kept at a temp higher than 32 degrees.

One of our big concerns was the black water tanks of the camp trailers.  We discussed the issue to some length and decided to use windshield washer fluid as the liquid we would pour into the toilet when we used it.  Windshield washer fluid can freeze in the Crawfords and we found that out.  Not so inside the trailer, but once it was in the holding tank, it was cold enough that it froze pretty solid.  Next time maybe mix it 50/50 with RV antifreeze.  Lesson learned.

None of us could hardly sleep the night before we were to take camp up into the Crawfords.  It was a very short night of sleeping for me and I’m sure the rest of the gang were the same.  We were taking two camp trailers up and setting them up for the hunts duration.  Other gun bearers and on lookers were also bringing trailers up to sleep in but they were on a different schedule than the 6 of us.  Hunter was sort of an exception as he had to work and would not be able to come up until later that night.  Totally acceptable.

We had a mishap right off the get go.  Fat Duck, who was pulling Hunters trailer left his home and started up the North Ogden divide and had not gotten more than a mile or so up the canyon when his Ford truck died!  There he was nearly in the middle of the road blocking all of one lane and part of another.  He tried to pull into a wide area off the side when he realized the truck was going to die, but didn’t make it.  Tracker, Many Steps and I were going to meet him up at the turnoff toward Monte Cristo, but we got the call about the time we got to 5 points in Odgen.  We turned around and headed for the North Ogden Divide.  Arriving some 20 minutes later, Tracker used his rig to  assist in getting Ducks outfit off the road and into somewhat of a safe spot.  We thought we knew what the problem was, because it happened up on the regular muzz hunt.  So we changed out a fuzz that does something with the fuel and all the electronic B.S.’n sensors and when he turned on the key,  POP it went again.  3 fuzzes later he called a tow truck.

The tow truck driver came and picked up Ducks truck and headed down the road.  Meanwhile Duck went back home (with the tow truck driver) and got his Isuzu Rodeo.  We hooked Trackers Suburban up to Hunters  trailer and off to the Crawfords we went.  Hunter came up in his Montero later that night.  While we were doing all of that, over and up Logan Canyon was traveling Wapiti Dung, Softball, Kyle and Edjukateer.  They were pulling Wapitis trailer and making good time.  We all met at the pre-determined destination in the Crawfords almost at the same time, give or take a couple of hours.

Trailers were leveled and blocked.  Storage tents erected and Trackers dining fly put up.  Fire wood was organized and a few beers were consumed.  All of a sudden, quick as a flash and right now in a minute…camp was set and we were camping in the Crawfords.  The evening before the opening of our Dream Hunt!  A long time coming and suddenly there we were!

No snow down low in the Crawfords and it looked like it was a perfect beginning to a perfect Dream Hunt.  Ya, Ducks truck broke down, but then it is a Ford, what can be expected?

This was Friday before the opener.  Remember it opens the Saturday before Thanksgiving and we all want to be home for Thanksgiving dinner and celebration.  We are planning on staying this Friday, Saturday and then coming home in the afternoon on Sunday.  Then staying home until the Friday after Thanksgiving and staying until the hunt ends or we get our 5 bucks, whichever comes first.

Morning came rather quickly, as it does on most hunts.  It just seems like it takes forever for the hunt to finally arrive and then when the hunt starts it is like time kicks into high gear and it rips by so fast.  You think you have plenty of time to bag your game and suddenly you are faced with the Last Day!  This hunt was no different.  We awoke with an excitement like none other.  Each of the 5 of us anticipating a buck of a lifetime.  The one you dream about…like the one on our shirts.  We were pumped to say the least and the guys who were there to help carry guns and drinks and food etc. were just as excited.

We had several vehicles filled with guys as we proceeded to slowly drive around the Crawford range.  We had to look over all the prospective bucks and choose whether it was a “shooter” or not.  One of the very first bucks we encountered was as close to a shooter as anyone could get and Crock decided it was a buck he would like to hang on his wall.  He went in pursuit, but the buck got out of range way to quickly and disappeared over the ridge long before Crock could even get close.  Smart buck!

Guess what happened next?  That Saturday night it snowed.  Not a lot, but snow it did and Sunday morning we had to deal with a bit of what was to become our nemesis.  On our way out of camp, of course looking for that “one” buck I spotted something laying against a cedar tree.  Soon it was identified as a trapped bobcat.

Sorry for the unclear photo, but it is the only one I took.  It had been snared and the trapper had not come around to get it yet.  A nice prime fur worth about $350 in todays market.  Of course if anyone comes across another persons traps they need to stay clear of them.  To attend to someone elses property is against the law and could land you a substantial fine and maybe worse than that.

We continued on our journey and the higher in altitude we got the worse the snow depth.  We knew we would have to put on some tire chains.  When we reached about the area where Crock was trying to get the buck the day before, we decided it was time to chain up.

Putting on tire chains is always cold and dirty, often times muddy as well.  Not a fun job, but necessary in the right circumstances and this was one of them.  Chains make a four wheel drive vehicle nearly like a tank.  It really adds traction and grip where you need it most.  In icy conditions they are really a must.  This day, we needed them or we would have to turn around.  We are only half way to the top.

We continued our trip to the top of the ridges and proceeded down the other side.  The snow was falling and the depth was getting very deep.  Sometimes we were pushing snow with the differentials of our rigs and we knew if it kept up falling at its current pace, it would be trouble for us for sure.  We were beginning to pray it would stop.  We continued to travel as best as we could and we kept seeing a boat load of deer.  No shooter bucks however, but still some nice respectable bucks.  This one was trying to figure out which way Utah was in such a blinding snow storm.

It was just a two point, but you can see in the picture how deep the snow was getting and it wasn’t looking like it was going to let up any time soon.  Pray, pray!  What a change from two days ago.  Will we be able to even get this far up the mountain tomorrow?  It is looking very doubtful.

We continued to battle the snow and elements the rest of that morning and then went back to camp and packed things up for the trip home.  No bucks killed.  Only the one that was respectful enough to pursue.  We made sure all the freezable stuff was packed inside the trailers and that all the valuable stuff was with us going back home.  We would be back in five days and hoped everything would still be where we left it.

We headed on home.

Once home, we were welcomed by our loved ones and asked about the hunt and all the things going on about that.  We told the stories and of course there were issues at home needing to be addressed.  We had four days to get our acts together and ready for the rest of the hunt.  Again, it was like a new hunt on the horizon.  Thanksgiving day had us praying for the good food etc. and of course the next days return to the Crawfords for the continuation of the hunt of a lifetime.  Our Dream Hunt.

All things packed and in order we headed on out.  Monte Cristo road was closed.  Too deep of snow.  Logan Canyon was snow packed, icy and slick.  We chose to go on interstate 80 through Evanston Wyoming and then into the Crawfords.  We caravanned as we usually do.  The road out of Evanston was a real bear cat.  Hard packed snow, turned to ice and made it very treacherous to travel on.  It was slow going but we made it to camp.

Camp had really taken a hit from the snow and weather.  We had to readjust the dining fly, and rearrange a lot of our gear.  Inside the trailers the thermometer that was left inside showed us that the low while we were gone (inside the trailer mind you) had gotten down to 10 below zero!  Holy mackerel!  All the beer, sodas, water bottles etc. were frozen solid!  Now what?  Inside of Karls trailer, a 2 quart Pepsi bottle had exploded and spewed pepsi all over inside his trailer!  Nasty to say the least.  It took Hunter and Edjucateer at least an hour to get the sticky off of everything.  Meanwhile my trailer didn’t suffer too bad of an attack and all we had to do was figure out how to warm it up and thaw out a beer to drink.

With furnaces on full blast and things beginning to show signs of thawing “inside” the trailers, we fixed up the rest of the camp as best as we could.  Starting a fire in the fire pit under the dining fly.  The dining fly’s support stakes were so solidly frozen into the ground we thought that when we were done with our hunt they would have to stay there.  It got really cold while we were away.  It only took a couple of hours for the frozen water vapors on the inside of the trailer windows to  show signs of melting and that was a good thing.  Everything we wanted to stay thawed out had to be placed inside a cooler and placed inside the trailer.  That made it quite crowded inside our sleeping accommodations, but what do you do when you want your cake and eat it too?

We are now on the second half of our Crawford Dream Hunt and we know that each day will bring a new and exciting adventure.  All things still unknown as to the outcome.  Maybe all five of us will go home with our tags still attached and no venison for the freezer, yet alone a rack for the wall.  The snow had fallen substantially all week, since we left and it made our traveling most difficult at best.  We were limited to only about 10 square miles of the entire Crawford range.  We were not the happiest of hunters at this point.  We did not have access to snowmobiles, which would have been ideal under these circumstances.  And so, we hunkered down and made the best of  a not so ideal situation.  There is a morale to this story….Be careful of what you wish for.

With chains attached to all four tires on all of the 4X4 rigs in camp, we headed out for an afternoon “lookee see”.  We were all ready to take a shooter buck if we saw one.  5 tags.  5 guys. 5 guns at the ready.  That afternoon we saw literally hundreds of deer.  A bunch of bucks and a whole lot more does.  The deer had definitely moved into the area during the time we were gone.  No shooters that afternoon showed themselves.  Back at camp at dark, we were visited by several of the other tag holders and every one had their story to tell.  Three or four had snowmachines and were telling us of the BIG OLD BIG ONES just over there…you have heard that story before.  And we had to believe them because we could not disprove it.  We had one of them warn us about attempting to go down into a specific area as the snow was deep and we would spend a considerable amount of time digging ourselves back out should we attempt to go there.  We knew the area well, and we figured if we went there we would pussy-foot it and avoid getting stuck.  Besides we have three rigs and if one got stuck the others would be there to assist in the pulling out job.

The next morning found us exactly there!  And the snow was indeed very deep.  The rigs went as far as they could go with much difficulty.  But on the other hand there were a lot of nice bucks down in there.  Up on a ridge about 400 yards away was a shooter!  Horns sticking out wide and tall.  Especially when it went over the skyline, man what a nice buck!  Hunter and Edjukateer could not sit at the trucks and just look.  Neither could Crock and off the three of them went in hot pursuit.  Each having his own idea as to just where that buck would go.  My being older decided to go up the  opposite side hill and get a vantage point from up there.  Maybe I could see the action unfold.  As I hiked, the snow was knee deep, and it got less deep the higher up the hill I hiked.  Dry Dog had also taken off up that same hillside, but more angling away from me and going in a Northerly direction.  There were a lot of deer jumping and running ahead of both of us as we climbed.  I kept hoping for a shooter to stand up from under a cedar like the does and small bucks were doing.  But it did not happen.

About two hours after we all left the vehicles I heard a shot coming from the direction of the big buck.  My heart raced to think one of the three of them had him down.  The radio was on, but no words were spoken.  I could see two respectable bucks standing in a clearing about half way up that same hill side.  The backside of the hill, away from the vehicles had a lot of cedar trees densely populated growing there.  While hunting in them the deer would almost have to be right on top of you to see it.

Pretty soon the radio crackled and a voice was heard.  I don’t remember who said what, but the essence of the whole thing was the buck was down and for help to come.  I started my long hike back to the vehicle.  Dry Dog had circled around and then below me and was half way to the vehicles when the call came.  He angled for a bend in the snowed in road up from the vehicles.  It was not an easy jaunt for him.

By the time I got back to the vehicle and readied myself for a hike to help with the buck.  I decided to leave my rifle and possibles back at the truck.  Taking only 6 beers and some water.  I knew the boys would want a celebration of the kill and I also knew they would be thirsty, because they left in such a hurry I knew they had not taken any water.  Hiking up the road from the vehicles, the snow depth decreased and I knew we had stopped in the deepest of the snow.  The vehicles could get up that road even with a bit of difficulty, but not impossible.

By the time I got to where everyone else was, so was the dead deer!  Edjukateer had managed to drag that beast down almost all the way by himself.   We took a bunch of pictures and then Hunter went back and drove his rig up to where the deer was laying.  We were able to load the bruiser up and head back to camp without any problems.  Hunter coined it once the buck was tied up to “The Rack”, he said, “And then there were four”!

With Edjukateers buck securely fastened to the side of “The Rack”, we ate a bit of lunch and headed back out in search of four more nice bucks.  Now, on a hunt like this one, time and days tend to get scrambled up some.  My memory is not what it used to be and so, if this story is not exactly how it really went in the time line, just keep in mind it did happen at some point during this hunt.

As with other days and nights, it snowed often and that would have been alright with us, but then the wind blew and it drifted the roads in very badly.  We were really limited as to where we could travel at this time.  Again, snowmobiles would have saved the day, but we didn’t have any for us to use.  We continued to make the best of the situation, even if it meant hiking for miles in knee deep snow.

Driving down the road toward camp one day, we spotted a pretty nice looking buck.  It was not the largest we had seen, but it was unique in some fashion and so I decided I would take it.  The shot was only about 75 yards, if that, and I was very confident with my shooting abilities.  After the smoke cleared I had shot just over his back and off it ran, never to be seen again.  Dang!  I never miss.  But miss I did and so my name went on the Boobin Baby Board!

Coming down the canyon toward camp and about a mile from camp, Crock spotted a  buck that he just had to make his.  A fairly long shot in the tall sage and slightly uphill, Crock took careful aim and put that buck down right in its tracks.  A fine buck indeed and it turns out to be the best buck he has ever taken to this day.  To say he was a happy mountain man is an understatement.

Any hunter would be proud to display that trophy on their wall and Crock is no different!  This buck was taken back to the road and made the trip down to camp and put on “The Rack”.  Number two of the Crawfords Welcoming Committee.  And then there were three.

The next day we woke to a bit more snow and of course the wind had helped choke things up even more.  So with our hunting area really cut down now, we were struggling to see high quality bucks and when we did we almost always decided it was a shooter.  Time was slipping away and we only had a few more days until it was all over.  In the area where I had missed a couple of days earlier, Many Steps spotted a buck that would certainly be the largest he had ever shot at and so he took it.  It was a very hearty buck and it took several rounds for Many Steps to finally put it down for good.  Many Steps did his  dad real proud as he dressed out the deer and got it back to the road for the trip back to camp.  It was getting on towards dark and so the rest of us kept on hunting while Many Steps, Crock and a couple of others took the buck back to camp and tied it up to “The Rack”.  Three nice bucks now make up the Crawford Welcoming Committee for all the hunters coming and going past our camp.  Later they told us they enjoyed every day, seeing the next one added.  And then there were two.

We still had two days left to hunt before our time was to end.  We had been hunting several days and work for some was calling for them to return.  Even though the actual hunt did not end until the day after we left, our time to leave was drawing near.  Knowing this we decided to make a hike through the deep snows to the top of what we call Tipi ridge, or at least in that area.  Crock and Many Steps opted out of the hike and along with Hunter, Edjukateer, Tracker and I was Brennen Gerhardt, a good friend of us all.  We drove to the bottom of a steep sided narrow canyon that lead toward where we were heading and we thought for sure we would find some big bruiser bucks.  We had not ventured too far up the bottom of the draw when Brennen spotted a buck up under a cedar a few hundred yards ahead.  We glassed the buck and decided we would evaluate it more when we got closer.  And so on we hiked.  It was very slick traveling up the side of that canyon and we had to make many, many zig zag maneuvers to get very far vertically.  I was in the lead.  Tracker was on the other side of the wash taking videos.  I eased up over a small rock outcropping and glassed the buck still standing where we had last seen it.  I make a quick evaluation and decided I would take it.  I turned and came back down the hill a short distance and told them in a whisper my intent.  The buck had “crab like” front forks, but it had character.  Not the biggest buck I had seen, but not too bad either.

I eased up to that rock edge and used it to steady the rifle for the 75 yard shot.  I am not proud of the shot as I did not hit where I was intentionally aiming and I don’t know to this day what went wrong.  The animal was hit and hit hard, but high on the back and in the flank.  Broken back and all, that buck came down that draw dragging itself until it was directly below our position.  It took another shot to finish him off.  Well 12 years waiting had finally ended.  The buck is a pretty nice one, with some character and I am proud I took it.

Being down in the draw I could not radio out to Crock and Many Steps and since Tracker was higher on the hill, he made contact with the two of them and they came back to the bottom of the draw to pick me and my buck up.  As it turned out I was just finishing up the task of taking care of the buck when they hiked up to my position.  We pulled the buck to the truck and loaded it up.  Back at camp it too was strung up onto “The Rack” for additional welcoming party celebrations.  And now there is only ONE.

Hunter and the rest continued to hike up toward Tipi ridge.  I was not there and can only relate the story as best as I can remember from this point out.  As they hiked they encountered much more deep snow, which is understandable as they climbed at least another 300 feet in elevation.  But, they also encountered more bucks and what seemed like perhaps bigger bucks.  They figured these bucks had just arrived in the Crawford Range out of Wyoming…a fresh batch!

They spotted a shooter for Hunter and he made a sneak to get closer.  He closed the gap a substantial distance and he was getting a bit nervous that maybe the buck would bolt on back toward Wyoming if he did not try the shot.  It was a pretty long shot for a muzzleloader, but Hunter being the expert marksman that he is, decided he could do it.  In a sitting position and using a rest from a cedar tree branch, Hunter took careful aim and with the distance, aimed a tad bit high and slowly eased the trigger back.  At the sound of the shot,  the buck bolted, but not before they saw the bullet strike the snow just over it’s back.  Had he not aimed a tad high, the buck most likely would have been hanging on the rack with the others.  It was by far the biggest buck any of us had seen up to that time.  A heart wrenching miss to say the least.  They continued to hunt around until it was getting on towards dark and then they hiked back to where we had predetermined a pickup vehicle would be waiting.

The morning of our last day came quickly and we knew we had to do some special efforts to get Hunter on a respectable buck.  We decided we would hike back up toward Tipi ridge and I wasn’t sure my short little, out of shape legs could handle it.  But, the quest was for Hunter and if it meant I had to take this hike I sure wasn’t going to disappoint anyone.  We all went.

Starting out just as it was getting light enough to see we began our trek.  We started off seeing a couple of coyotes and knew the deer were around somewhere close.  It was a long trek in knee deep snow and Hunter took the lead, breaking the trail for the rest of us.  About half way to where we thought we might intercept a buck and in about the same general area as Hunter had taken his shot the day before, we started to see one exceptionally large track among the rest of the smaller tracks in the snow.  There was a big buck in the area, but where was anyone’s guess.  We were nearing a point where the hill turned slightly to the North and East and the bottom of the draw flattened out.  A perfect place for a big buck to be this time of day.  We decided to split up, with Hunter and Tracker going around the bend in the hill and the rest of us would fan out and come up the bottom and across the flat through the trees and brush.  From my position, Hunter and Tracker were on my left about 200 or 300 yards.  I could not see them.  To my right and down hill were the rest spread out.  I could not see them either.  We all had our radios on and ear buds in so as not to make a whole lot of commotion.  We began our move toward the flat area, when suddenly, to my right and slightly ahead I saw a very big buck moving out.  It had at least a 27 inch spread and loads of kicker points going out both sides.  It may have even been closer to 30 inches wide.  It moved out and would not have offered anyone a decent shot.  It then went up and over a very steep hillside and disappeared.  We all regrouped and discussed what next to do.

We decided to venture up and over the top where the big buck had gone.  After all, it worked for Edjukateer.  Maybe the same would happen today for Hunter.  It took us some time to climb that next hill.  It was higher in elevation and the snow was deeper.  As we eased up over the ridge we instantly  spotted several bucks and lots of does.  This had to be a collecting place for migrating deer.  Again it was decided that Hunter and Tracker would follow the terrain around to our left and try to get into a position to get a shot should a buck try and head back into Wyoming.  The rest of us would split up in two groups and cover two separate draws to our right.  We would slowly hike down the draws which went almost directly away from us to our right.  Any buck desiring to get back into Wyoming would have to move to our left; right into the waiting bullet of Hunters.  The plan was working very well as we made our way down and around.  We were at least a mile away from Hunter and Trackers position when I could see very large bucks cresting the ridgeline heading back into Wyoming.  The bucks had gone over the top at a lower point on the ridge than we expected.  Hunter never gave up, he tried to cut them off, but it’s just impossible for a man to outrun or out maneuver a wiley mule deer buck. Especially in knee deep slippery snow.

Re-grouping, we had ourselves a little snack at the very top of Tipi Ridge and Tracker reminded us that it was named Windy Ridge.  We understood how it got its name.  There was very little snow up there.  We all were wearing our coveted Dream Hunt Shirts and so we posed for the camera.  We had to take off several layers of clothing for the pose and believe me it was COLD up on that ridge.   Click on the link to see the video.

crawfords_christmas

When we finished with all of our doings and knowing we had chased a lot of big bucks back into Wyoming, that the hunt was pretty much a done deal.  Hunter was disappointed, but not disappointed in our efforts to try and get  him another shot at the big boy.  He decided he would like to hike back down into the canyon where I had shot my deer the day before and the rest of us decided we would push down the mountain to his right and hopefully push a big buck his way as we went.  Our route would take us back to  where we had left the vehicle this morning.  My particular route would take me past the place the largest of the Crawford bucks had been taken by another man earlier in the week.  Who knows, there could be another one just like his in there and it might just try and run Hunter down.  The plan was for us to make our pushes and meet at the truck.  Then drive the truck to the bottom of the steep ravine and there we would pick up Hunter and Tracker for the ride back to camp.

We did our pushes and to everyone’s surprise no bucks were seen at all.   In fact in the mile or so of my hike alone I never saw one deer.  But then it was foggy and that may have been the reason for not seeing anything.  We gathered at the truck and headed back toward the ravine.  Moving up the bottom of the ravine, we spotted a 4X4 buck feeding up on the hillside about 50 yards.  Not a bad buck as muley bucks go, just not the caliber of buck that we had been seeing.

Hunter and Tracker came along shortly and joined us.  The hunt was basically over and Hunter still had his tag.  We told him about the four point down the road and he decided to take a look at it.  Once he saw it he decided he would take it, that is  if anyone else could use the meat.  Crock and I said we would split it.  Hunter made a good shot on it and the five of us tagged out.

Within an hour we were back at camp preparing for our trip home.  We had had a wonderful time, even though mother nature won over on us with her rath of snow and wind.  We still had one picture left to take and so we set things up for that.  Here we are 5 Willow Creek Free Trappers in the Crawfords for the last day of our hunt 2010!  The Chosen Ones for sure!

Does it get any better?  I think not!  Thanks for the hunt gentlemen!  My next dream hunt is going to be for a big old Elk.  I have never shot a bull elk before and I sure would like to do it before they plant me in a pine box.

Oh, here is a picture of what it would have looked like as you passed us on the highway heading home.

In order from left to right.  Bears Butts, Hunters, Many Steps, Crocks, Edjukateers.

Good job everyone!  Congratulations Edjukateer for teaching us how to shoot the biggest buck out of the five of us.  OH YA!  I almost forgot.  Edjukateer was using a big bullet that had a green plastic base attached to it.  During practice, and I believe it is designed to do this, the green base would come off the bullet in flight about 15 yards beyond the muzzle of the gun.  It always does.

Edjukateer told us his story and said he shot his deer at about 175 yards out.  Maybe he said 75 yards out.  My memory is fogged.  A good story none the less and one I am certain we will hear again and again.  He did sneak up and over the ridge where the big buck went and he did drag it down after only one shot.

I did the processing of all but one of the five deer and his was one of them.  I always like to follow the trail of the bullet into and through the animal in case there might be some lead fragments and such.  And in so doing with his animal, I found the little green plastic base firmly embedded in the shoulder blade of the animal.  HMMMMMM.  175?  75?  Or perhaps when he was range finding the buck, he miss took the “1” for a “7”?  I do not know.

Congratulations fellas on one fine hunt!  YEEEEHHHHAAAAAA!  The Chosen Ones!!!!

Bears Butt

July 1, 2011

Written on July 5th, 2011 , DREAM HUNTS
By: Bears Butt

Last summer (2010) Brandon, Conner, Mitch, Sydney and I went up to Hyrum State Park in Utah to do a little fishing.  The lake contains Trout of several varieties, Largemouth bass,  Perch and a few Crappie and Bluegill.  This day we targeted Bass and Trout.

For the kids, Conner and Sydnie, who aren’t as experienced as the older ones, fishing for bass in the weeds does not take too long for them to loose interest.  And so we spent quite a lot of time shoreline fishing from the boat in likely bass hideouts.  We mostly used worms to get the bass to bite and of course perch love worms as well.  We had a ton of bites this day and the kids seemed to enjoy the time on the water.

When we get finished trying to catch bass, we switch bait over to a powerbait dough and try that.  It usually works pretty well to catch the trout in this lake and this particualar day was not an exception.  The trout are usually rainbows and their size is up around 17 plus inches.   Not huge fish, but pretty chunky and good to eat.  Usually we catch and release the fish and only keep the deeply caught ones.

Well, drifting along slowly in the early morning breeze, we enter into some pretty thick water weeds.  When suddenly Brandons pole heads for the water.  He has a very large fish on that is making a move quickly for the densest of the weeds and it succeeds quite well.  He fights it for a few minutes before I realize he really has a big fish on and I get my video recorder going.  The video you are about to see does not last long, as the fish spit the hook.  If you look closely at the water, where Brandons line is going into it, you will see the tail and a portion of the fishes body as it makes it’s last move back to freedom.

Zoomed, slow motion analysis shows it to be a Brown Trout and we guesstimate it’s size at 15 pounds.

Enjoy the video!

15Lb Brown

 

Bears Butt

Written on July 3rd, 2011 , Hunting/Fishing/Trapping Stories
By: Bears Butt

Every hunting camp I have ever been involved with have some sort of ritual or right of passage, in the case of new comers.  Ours is no different.  I first learned about hunting camp traditions when I was about 13 years old.  I was allowed to go and camp with the hunters and actually got to go out in the mountains with my parents on an actual deer hunt.  I remember that hunt as if it was yesterday.

Two buck deer came running straight at us and mom and dad both were blazing away with their rifles trying their best to put both of them down.  Only one actually got hit and killed, and again that memory is with me to this day.  Fun stuff right there.  I was hooked before that, but for sure, that event solidified my desire to hunt big game.

Back to the tradition of our hunting camp.  Usually the night before the opening day, while sitting around the camp fire talking about past hunts and tomorrows plans, someone will bring up the “big buck contest”.  This is a contest where everyone hunting will put a dollar or five or ten or whatever into the pot.  When the hunt is over, the hunter that tags the largest buck in the camp wins all the money in the pot.  Pretty simple and it adds to the “should I shoot that small of a buck right now, or hold out for a bigger one” question that almost always runs through the hunters mind before they pull the trigger.

Well, currently our muzzleloader deer camp has added another bit of a twist to the age old big buck contest.  Ours goes like this:

Every hunter that wants to play in the contest puts in $5.  This has to be done before the hunt actually begins, so just as in the past, must take place no later than first light of the first day of the hunts opening.  The biggest buck will win the pot (all the money).  The biggest buck is determined by the total number of points over one inch in length, plus the distance at the widest point across the antlers.  So, by Western count, if a person bagged a 4 point muley, with eye guards longer than one inch, they would have a total point count of 10.  (Four points on each side of the rack, plus the two eye guards).  That 10 is then added to the distance across the antlers for the total.  So if the rack measured 15 7/8 inches across, outside of antler to outside of the other antler the total would be 25 7/8 points.  In my camp that would be a tough one to beat most years.

Most of us are meat hunters and bag two point bucks usually and our total counts are usually less than  15 inches.  We don’t care.  We are out for a good time and maybe even get to take a buck home for the table.

So far, our contest sounds pretty much like your camp contest doesn’t it?  Well, here comes our twist on things.

We have what we call “The Boobin Baby Board”!  A picture of a baby who is crying very hard and has a saying above his head the reads “WHAAAA!!!!….I..Well I….I guess I shoulda…If he’d just held still longer.  He was out of range…I CAN’T BELIEVE I MISSED!!!!  WHAAAAA!!!!!!”

So what is the purpose of this Boobin Baby Board?  The picture is pinned to a very stout board and on the board is also placed a clean piece of cardboard  that measures about 12 inches wide and maybe 20 inches long.

Another rule is now in effect:  If you shoot during the hunting time and you do not bring a deer back to camp, you owe the pot $1 more to stay in the contest.  It does not matter if you shoot at a can, target, coyote, deer, squirrel or whatever, if you shoot and do not bring a deer back to camp you owe the dollar…AND in addition to that, your name is written on the Boobin Baby Board for all to see.  Take a look at this picture from the 2009 muzzleload deer hunt, can you count the number of missed shots during that 5 day hunt?

We have added another fine little picture that is pinned to the tree with the pot of money and you can see from the picture just how cute it is and why we have chosen to use it.

One final rule for our contest.  We pre-determine when we are going to break camp and go back home.  In order to claim the pot of money, you have to be back at camp before noon on the day we plan on breaking camp, or the money goes into next years pot.  We have never had the money go into next years pot and I doubt it will ever happen.

Oh ya!  There is one more little item I almost forgot.  It is a tradition that the hunter that bags a buck, any buck and brings it to camp deserves a little toast in his or her honor.  We have a little bit of a surprise, in the way of a sip of some of the most horrid whiskey made.  It is store bought, so you know it is sage, but boy howdy does it make you shudder as it goes down…we call that “grimacing”!  This is what the Front and Back labels look like:

So, there you have the story of the traditions that occur in the camp of the Willow Creek Free Trappers!

Bears Butt

Written on June 27th, 2011 , Hunting/Fishing/Trapping Stories

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Just some of my old stories, new stories, and in general what is going on in my life.