Utah Fishing ReportsThe following recipe was given to me from one of my cousins, Evelyn Zundel, it says to use 3 lbs. of almonds and even though almonds are very good, try it with macadamia nuts! Any nut for that matter, and they turn out wonderful!
As some of you know, several years ago, I went on a crusade to convince the Utah DWR to allow hunting antelope in the Randolph, Woodruff area during the same time as the muzzleloader deer hunt was going on. My reasoning was two fold. One, we didn’t have a Limited Entry muzz antelope hunt in Northern Utah and Two, I had seen several nice buck antelope during previous muzz deer hunts and thought it would be nice to be able to take one home, should the occasion arise. I spent the best part of 3 years gathering information, preparing speeches and going to RAC meetings etc. And finally ending up at a Wildlife Board meeting where I presented one last time, my arguments for having such a hunt. Eventually the Wildlife Board had the DWR create a Limited Entry Antelope hunt in this area. In fact they made the area such a large expanse that it would be hard to cover it all in one day.
Sadly, the total number of tags for this area is only about 17 or so. Last year, 2017, the success rate for the hunt was only 80%.
At any rate, I drew a tag this year! 2018 and my friend, Johnny “Crock” Riley had a shirt made for me to wear during the hunt. The shirt is a take off from when a group of us drew the coveted Crawford Mountain Limited Entry Mule deer tag several years ago.
It’s hard to read, but at the bottom of the picture of the antelope it reads, “I was chosen”! Thank you Crock! I love it!
So my goal this year and for this hunt was to tag a buck antelope that looked at or near to the same as the one printed on the shirt!
As you can guess, I trained hard for this hunt. I studied the internet, watched Youtube videos on how to field judge antelope horns and such. I learned that they were not easy to bag at close distances and of course all my study gave me new appreciation for those bow hunters who actually bag and tag an antelope with their bows. I’m not sure I want to attempt that and think I would be a total failure in trying to accomplish a task of that magnitude.
Well, the hunt began as usual, mostly being one for hunting muley bucks and not necessarily antelope. I knew going into it, I would be on my own for a good portion of the hunt and I was OK with that. After all, the other guys and gals had deer tags. I was the only one with an antelope tag. And so, when the hunt began, I would choose to drive the guys around who wanted to go with me and I would split my time in areas known to hold antelope, but mostly deer. Again, it was alright with me. At least I was with others having a good time and trying to fill tags.
We camped in our normal area where it would be very much possible to see a buck deer right out of camp at any time of the day. Not so with antelope, however. But a short drive down the canyon would put me into antelope country and still give the muley deer hunters a chance to see their buck. After all, sometimes, you will find that BIG OLD BUCK where nobody else is looking and what better place than in antelope country? We were up early every morning, hitting the spots we thought the critters would be holding. We saw tons of deer, even a few antelope, but I couldn’t get close enough for a shot on the antelope. Most of the deer we were seeing were does and fawns as well, but occasionally we would see a small buck. Enough times that it kept the interest up for the hunters with deer tags.
We did keep seeing one antelope buck in a specific area, just off of private ground and I told more than one in the group I’d shoot that one if I had the chance. He wasn’t a “Booner”, but he wasn’t that bad.
I think it was on day 3, I decided I would go off on my own looking for just antelope. Of course none of the deer hunters wanted to waste their evening hunt going with me, which was just fine. This way I could go where I wanted and not worry about them. I found myself miles from anything that remotely looked like mule deer country. I even found a buck antelope that looked like a good one. Again, not a Booner, but still nice. I put my best “in the vehicle” sneak on him and when I crested the hill where I knew he would be standing, he was no where to be found. I looked and looked to no avail! OK, maybe tomorrow I said and off I went to make a circle in my route back to camp.
As I came down a well know road to another well known road, a split in my route back to camp, I saw a side by side vehicle blocking the road ahead. I was up hill from it and so I stopped and began to glass. Soon I saw a young man with a muzz in his hand, followed by another guy. I assumed it was his father. They were sneaking over a small hill from where they had stopped their side by side. I glassed and soon picked up a small buck in my binoculars. That was the buck they were after. It didn’t take the young man long to finally see the buck and pull up the rifle. I watched intently as the young man carefully aimed his rifle and soon, I saw and heard the distinctive “bark” of a muzz rifle going off. The smoke rose in the calm evening air and then I heard the “Whack” of the bullet striking the buck. All of this was in my view through my binoculars and I saw the buck jump and head down the hill away from the young man and his father. I continued to watch the buck as it went down hill and finally where it laid down.
I stayed in my spot until I was sure the buck was not going to get back up and run off and then I moseyed down the road to the side by side. The father (Dan), came over to move the rig out of the road. I told him it was just fine, I was not in any hurry and he had a deer to deal with, but he moved it anyway. While we were together we talked about the shot his boy had made and neither of us were sure it was a killing shot or not. We decided I would drive down below the buck and get ready to shoot it should it jump up and run. And he and his son would slowly go to where it was laying, hopefully to find it deceased. So, that is what we did. I drove down about 50 yards beyond where the deer was laying and go my gun ready to shoot the deer should it try to escape. They made the slow decent down to where they thought the deer was laying. After awhile, it was way too dark for me to see my sights and so, I put my rifle back into the truck and drove back up the road to a spot closer to where the buck was supposed to be laying.
Dad and son had not found the buck by this time and so, using my flashlight, I helped direct them to where it was laying. The young hunter had to put a killing shot into the buck at close range, but still, it ended happily for the young hunter and his father! To say I was anything but elated would have been an understatement. I was beside myself to witness such a wonderful site as a first time hunter, with his father, tagging out on a fine buck deer. The young man introduced himself as “Hunter”, to me as his father went back to move the side by side closer. I took a “not so good picture” of him with his buck and then we dragged it down toward the road.
Down at the road, his Dad, Dan, insisted that Hunter, gut the animal. Again, I was very pleased to be a witness to this and watch his dad walk the boy through the process. They even gave me the liver! Thank you guys! I can’t believe people don’t consume deer liver, to me it’s almost the best part of the animal. But what tickled me the most was how great-full this young man was to think I would stick around and help them get it ready to transport back to their camp. Dan, you have a true sportsman on your hands!
Thank you for letting me be a part of all of it and again THANK YOU FOR THE DEER LIVER!!!
I arrived back at my camp rather late, actually later than I wanted to be, and I thought they might be worried about me. I even travelled the “long way” back in case they were looking…but…they knew I’d be ok and were enjoying themselves in normal fashion around the camp.
Of course this picture was taken before dark, so you can surmise it wasn’t taken after I got back to camp. Actually, it was past bedtime when I got back, so it was nighty-night for me once I arrived. (I guess I’m getting too old, I used to stay up till after midnight at deer camp and still get up at 5 a.m. and be ready to hit it again…day after day after day. Now it’s a late night if I see 10 pm).
Well, April and the Kids came up on Thursday evening and joined in the festivities. I even fried up some Chicken Skins….WHAT? You have never heard of fried chicken skins???? Do you like Chick-er-ones? I don’t know how to spell it…Mexican fried pig skin. Well, these are Chicken-rones.
Cut the chicken skin up in 1 inch wide strips, and deep fry in oil. Nothing special, just fry until they are crispy and brown. Then salt them, put them on a paper towel to drain a bit and enjoy them. Once you try them, I think you might give up on Pork Rinds.
They are quite tastey!
Well, with April and the kids in camp, things changed quite a bit. Some had to settled down a bit, but not so much they couldn’t still have a very good time, but not quite like they were before women and children came into camp. It’s all good folks! Right Gattlin?
And of course it wouldn’t be the muzz hunt if Dry Dog didn’t send up some “Apple Pie”. Well, at least one in the camp enjoyed it. Thanks Dog!
The sequence of pictures if for you Dry Dog! Salute, Swig, Kiss! OH MY!
Well, as the hunt progressed, we did have an official naming. You see, Gattlin and Shawn went off hunting in Shawns rig one evening. Gattlin started calling Shawn his Chauffeur and of course a chauffeur is usually of English descent. Over the course of the evening (and a few imbidements) Gattlin started calling Shawn, James. You know…”Home James!” Which interprets as “Take me home, James”..when James, the driver would take his “master” home. Before long, he was calling him “Sir James”. A good Englishman must have a proper sir name, we all know this and by the time the evening was done, we had to have an official re-naming of Shawn…From now on, wherever mountain men shall meet, you shall be named, “Sir James”!
AND, not to make light of the fact that Gattlin shot a buck this evening, his first in probably 15 years, I present you with Gattlin and his buck!
The camp was very happy to see this and the story that went with it! To say Frank “Gattlin” was a happy boy is an understatement! Congratulations Frank! Nice buck!
Frank even gutted it…as you can see by his watch!
What time is it Frank?
The kids had a pretty good time as well, and I regret not being with them more and taking more pictures, but my head was on antelope by the time they got to camp. We did manage to pass by Kenzie Tree.
And our game plan was to make another tree carving dedicated to Squirrel and Flash Pan (Conner), but neither of them happened this year….let’s do this next year folks!
Our last full day of hunting was decided to head on over to “Big Creek”, an area between Randolph and Woodruff. There is a whole lot of “nothing” between the beginning of the trip and the end of the trip, but to me there is a whole lot of promise. Both for deer and antelope. So, Robert, Conner, Kenzie, Addie and I headed that direction. It would be a long drive with not a whole lot of action… however, we did see a couple of bucks and it was a great time. Here is what happened in part of the trip. I spotted a couple of deer down in a draw as we proceeded up the road. We stopped and glassed. I thought I saw antlers on one of them. So we drove a bit farther to a point we could be closer to them. Sure enough a buck was in the group. But they ran over the hill. We continued up the road and got out to check. Some went left, some went right. We hadn’t gone far, when we heard a shot farther up the road. I thought that maybe Conner or Robert had shot. So back to the truck we went. Well, neither of them had shot. So we continued up the road. Just over the rise, we came to a truck plugging up the road with his truck and 4 wheeler trailer. To our left was a father and son next to the buck his son had just harvested!
The young man had just taken his first ever buck deer! YES! Again, I was excited! We pulled over as far as we could even though I knew nobody could get past us and parked the rig. Let’s go help them, I said! And the truck emptied out. Everyone was excited to go help them gut and drag the deer to the rig. Well, maybe not Addie. She nearly lost “it” as they pulled the internal organs from the animal. They father and son were happy we were willing to help them as it was a pretty good climb up out of the draw the animal was in. Actually, Ricochet was helping with the front quarters, along side the young man who shot the animal, while Dad and I dealt with the rear quarters. It didn’t take long to get it to the truck and loaded up on the trailer with the 4 wheelers.
This was Tony’s first deer and his father Theron was very happy! What a great day! Heading home from a great, but unsuccessful hunt and suddenly…God presented Tony with a great buck! Congratulations Tony! Nice buck!
You know, it doesn’t get much better than that! Seeing successful hunters and getting to help them with their harvest! Thanks to Addie, Kenzie, Robert and Conner for the help getting this buck to its home!
SO! That was pretty much the end of the “regular muzz hunt”. We did see more bucks, but only April got a shot and missed. DANG! Another dollar donated to the biggest buck contest. Why Conner and Kenzie didn’t shoot is beyond me. I wasn’t there, so I can’t say, but that pretty much ended the hunt. We packed up the camp and came on home after Sunday morning hunt. Everyone in a great mood.
The next day, Monday, I was on Facebook, thanking one of my facebook friends for telling me where to look for a great antelope buck. I looked during the hunt but didn’t find it. He wrote back immediately and said, If I could get back up there, he was watching a nice buck laying out in his meadow. It would be easy to tag him, as he had never been hunted before and that today was the only day he could give me permission to hunt. His future father in law owns the land and as long as he was there, he could grant permission, but that he had to leave later that day and could not give me permission to hunt after this day. I quickly called Weasel to see if he would like to go back to maybe bag this antelope. Of course he wanted to go! We were back in the area within 2 hours! There is something about hunting that drives a hunter to do what he has to do to get things done!
Well, at the ranch, we made a plan, none of us had a clue as to how to approach this buck. He was laying out in an open meadow, with 6 does just a few yards from him. If we were to get to a hiding spot to the south, and my facebook friend could move the animals with the 4 wheeler, they might just come close enough for a shot. Well, that was the plan. As soon as Weasel and I were in position we messaged my friend and he started the 4 wheeler and made a big circle to the other side of the buck. All the antelope got up and moved toward us. BUT…as antelope will do, they knew something was amiss, because we had spooked some cows off the hill we were hiding on when we arrived. They would not have anything to do with the hill we were hiding on. They came a ways and then turned and high tailed it straight away and jumped the fence to the other land owners property. Meanwhile the buck came as if he would be right in our lap, suddenly he too turned and went straight away to our right, and circled us…his route took him far beyond the ranch and then down among the cattle and back to where he was laying when we jumped him. I quickly ran to the end of a fence and found a nice hiding spot, but the buck suspected foul play and ran straight away and over onto BLM land, never to be seen again! DANG! (I’m saying that alot).
By now it was about 3 pm, only a couple or 3 hours until dark. We decided to take a long route back to where we had been seeing the “smallish” antelope buck during the muzz deer hunt. Weasel saw some country he had not seen before, but it was all antelope country and not anywhere any respectable muley buck would visit. Upon arrival at “the place”, we immediately spotted a sizable muley buck on the ridge. The buck went into some brush and layed down. But what was that just below there? Sure enough that same antelope buck and two does we had seen several times before during the muzz hunt. We decided to put a sneak on them. My plan was to go straight at them and see what they would do. Sure enough, I was about 300 yards from them when they ran up over the top of the hill and out of sight.
Back at the truck, Weasel suggested we go up a 2 track road up toward where we last saw the antelope. Good plan. Up we went.
As we approached the top, we spotted the buck and two doe. He was busy trying to keep the two does close but they had other plans and ran over the top. We continued up to the top and then decided I should grab my gun and walk over to the edge and look down the hill. Maybe, just maybe they would be within range just down the hill. So, with that plan, I slowly walked forward, constantly looking down for any sign of an antelope. When I was in a position to see almost to the bottom of the hill, I spotted one of the does. Then the other. Where was the buck? They were about 250 yards down hill from me and I scanned the valley looking for the buck. Just like spotting the does, suddenly, there he was standing looking toward the does. I don’t know for sure, why the does had not spotted me, but I suspect because I had my full “leafy suit, with head gear and mask” on, that maybe they just didn’t see my outline, maybe it was the sun at my back, and perhaps a combination of both of those, but they didn’t even know I was there.
I ranged the buck…194 yards! Dang! Thats almost twice the distance I like to shoot. I thought seriously about the whole hunt…the distances I had been to this same buck several times before. This was the closest I had been. I thought, my friend Dry Dog shoots this distance all the time at deer and he brings them back to camp a lot of times. Yes a few wounded ones as well, but am I better than him at these ranges? I just don’t know. I’ve never taken this long a shot before. After battling it out in my own head for a few minutes, I decided, If I could get to this “one spot” and sit down, with a good rest, I would take the shot. I inched forward to a point where I could sit, and rest my rifle on my knee. Neither the buck nor the does moved as I sat down and readied for the shot. I pulled my binoculars up one more time to verify it was the buck. And then the range finder to verify the distance. 194 yards on a 19 degree slope. My mind raced, should I aim right where I want to hit? Do I aim high? Do I aim low? I’ve not been in this situation before. The distance had me really thinking. Well, I finally decided the angle would compensate for the distance and I should just aim where I wanted to hit and let it fly. So, with the most careful shots I’ve ever taken with a muzzleloader, I put my open sights on his front shoulder and squeezed the trigger carefully. The hammer falling actually surprised me and the gun going off was a smooth transition. I heard the bullet strike the buck, but it wasn’t where I wanted it to hit him. Quite a bad shot actually, and I hit him in the right hip, breaking his leg.
He ran about 100 yards, his leg flopping side to side…I was sick and stood there watching him through the binoculars and praying to God he would drop. He stopped and laid down. I stood there with binoculars to my face, not believing what was happening. He should have gone right down with that shot. But the shot was not where it should have been. Then thinking back to when I went to the range and tried the Powerbelt bullets. I was left about 3 inches at 100 yards with all 3 shots. Sure, 200 yards would put the bullet at least 6 inches left at 200 yards and that is about where it hit. Damn!!!
Weasel came down to where I was at and asked if I had hit him. I said yes, but it was not a good shot and that the animal was laying “right over there”…he looked with his binos and saw it laying there. I began to reload at that time. Something I would have done immediately on any other shot. I was in shock. And my mind was in unbelief that I didn’t just plain out and out kill him with that shot.
We made a plan that Weasel would go back to the truck and work down toward the buck, while I inched, quietly down the hill toward where it laid and should it get up, I’d shoot it again. That was the plan and as Weasel came down the hill with the truck the buck did eventually stand back up and I placed a finishing round between its eyes. Again, I thank God for giving me this opportunity and providing me with this fine animal. Thank you to All those who helped me harvest this animal and the DWR for allowing this hunt to take place.
Almost like the picture on my shirt! I’ll take it! Thank you EVERYONE, who supported my hunt! I love you guys!
Bears Butt
October 18, 2018
2018 is a year to remember, especially the hunting seasons. Let’s start with the archery hunt. As usual it takes 365 days to arrive, but seems like 2 days to end. Even though I spent 27 days in the woods hunting between the archery hunt and the muzz hunt, the time slipped by so dang quickly it wasn’t even funny. My poor puppy at home would have another thought on that, but I digress. As the year progressed, Utah’s weather just wasn’t normal. I think we had a total of 1 inch or rain from April through September and then the rains made up for the rest of the year. But, the archery hunt begins in August around here and so it was very dry and dusty in the mountains, as you are about to see.
Weasel and I had made our plan to take Cody “Squirrel” and Kenzie “Ricochet” up and hopefully get them some shooting and maybe even a buck or two. They certainly had earned the right to be there and had been practicing hard all summer long. Both of them very capable of a 20 yard shot with their bows. Even possibly out to 25 yards if needed. Unfortunately for me (and ultimately, you), I was trying to free up some space on my iphone and deleted all the pictures I had taken during this “first bow hunt” of the season. I lost some very good pictures of the two of them in various pictures and situations. I am sad. Since then I have created a permanent backup system to prevent that from ever happening again! Here are all the pictures I have of the two of them during the hunt.
We had seen a two point cross through this area and they were in hot pursuit. The deer was never seen again, however.
I can share with you a couple of stories that happened during the hunt: Weasel and I had decided to split up, one to take Squirrel with him and the other to take Ricochet. I ended up on Ricochet’s team. Being as August is the month the Archery hunt begins in Utah, it is also the month School begins for the year and Ricochet had to come off the mountain to attend some important school function. She missed a couple of days of hunting because of that. As a result, the weather was showing signs of maybe raining, a welcome thought and if it was to actually happen we would be most appreciative. I think the animals thought the same. I had to leave the mountain and travel down to pick up Ricochet at the Hardware Ranch one evening as the storm front was approaching. It would not rain until the next day, however, but at least we had clouds and cooler temps. As I was driving down the dirt road to pick her up, I had two different groups of deer cross the road in front of me. Both groups had bucks in them. I was running late however and only stopped to take a couple of pictures of the deer. I could have shot them, as they were not scared and only about 15 yards away. I hurried down to get her and hoping the bucks would still be in the area when we went back up the road past where they were. No such luck.
It was a good hour long drive from the Hardware back up to our camp and I was pushing it to get to our chosen water hole before it got too dark. As we proceeded up the road, we were seeing a lot of wildlife, just no bucks. Arriving at our water hole and the blind we had prepared earlier, there were two small bucks on the hillside above the water. Ricochet got out and made a play on them, as I continued down the road to hide the truck. As I walked back up toward the blind, I could see Ricochet working her way out of the trees and coming down toward the blind. We both got to the blind about the same time. She told me she had a really close encounter with one of the bucks and almost got a shot, but it didn’t work out. We settled into the blind and had about 45 minutes until it would be too dark to shoot.
I wear hearing aids and turned them up full blast (max reception). With a cow elk tag in my pocket, I was hoping a cow would come down the trail to the water hole and I’d punch my tag. There was lots of sign of elk in the area, as well as buck deer and other critters, some I hoped would not show their faces (cougars/bears). Suddenly I could hear something coming down the trail behind us and to my left…could it be an elk? As the noise of its foot steps got closer and closer, I could tell it was a sizable animal, but most likely not the size of an elk or moose. Suddenly it snorted and spun around and bounded back up the trail the way it had come. I spun around, bow being drawn as I did only to see a nice sized buck deer bounding off into the trees behind us. It had been only about 10 or 20 feet behind us when it smelled us. I highly doubt it saw us, just the way the blind was set up. It continued up into the trees and then started making a circle around to our right. At one point it was skylined and we could see it was a nice buck, maybe a 3X4, with tall tines. When it got to the point of the trail on the hill, it turned and started down our way! I was excited and I’m sure Ricochet was too, as it came closer and closer. It was less than 20 yards from us when it stopped and stood in the trail, looking toward the water hole. The water was down hill from us and to our left. Suddenly a doe, came running out of the trees behind us and straight down to the buck. The two stood there a minute conversing (or whatever wild animals do to let each other know what is going on). Then she sniffed around and looked our direction. Then she bounded back to where she had come from. The buck then looked down the hill to his right, which was straight ahead of us. There stood another buck, not as big as the one on the trail, but still a buck. The bigger buck, then decided to leave and go where the doe had gone. As he did that, the smaller buck came up and stood on the trail where the other had just been. I just knew, he would continue to the water for a drink and it would give Kenzie (Ricochet) a perfect broadside shot at 10 yards. The buck stood on that trail until it was too dark to shoot. When she knew there was no way she would be able to see her sights, she leaned over and whispered to me that she would not be able to shoot. So we stood up and that buck almost turned itself inside out getting out of there!
We walked the 500 or so yards back to the truck and proceeded back to camp. A fine evening hunt under our belts.
Meanwhile, Team Squirrel was sitting on their favorite water hole and had a 4X4 buck coming in. The animal had to do almost what Ricochet’s buck had to do and that is, cross in front of the blind as it went to water. Squirrel would have about a 10 yard shot if the buck continued on the trail it was on. The problem they had was a domestic cow was also getting a drink from that water hole and thought she owned it! Long story short, it ran that big buck off, 4 times. It never got any closer than 40 yards and Weasel told Squirrel, “If it comes back a 4th time I’m going to shoot it”! Squirrel agreed and encouraged his dad to do just that! It never came back.
And so, was the fact that there were so many animals out and about this particular evening because of the barometric pressure of the upcoming storm? Was it just because we had a day of cooler, cloudy weather? A combination of the two? I don’t have the answer, but it sure was exciting to see critters so very close and almost getting shots! Those were the two closest encounters for these young hunters during their season. As their grandfather, it was exciting to be with them in camp and in the blinds. They are troopers and good hunters. I hope I have MANY more days in the field with them.
Well, we call that archery hunt number one. We had a family/friends rendezvous back home, so we packed up and headed down the mountain for a week to enjoy that happening.
Archery hunt number two, began the following Thursday, and Weasel and I had two more evenings before the elk hunt ended. Both of us hoping we could at least fill one of the tags we had. Elk is SOOOO good eating! We checked trail cameras and made our plans to hunt a particular water hole the first of the two evenings. We chose the one where the 4 point had come in just in case it came back. It was a good plan, but nothing came in that evening. A couple of does and fawns is all, but it was still a good evening to be out. Clear and cool, with a slight breeze (however it was blowing in a direction that didn’t help our cause and actually chased off the animals coming in). We heard them snorting and stomping as they went up and around us. That’s hunting.
The last evening, had me sitting on a water hole where I had found a “new to us” trail coming in from a dense stand of pines, so thick you can’t see 10 feet inside of. The trail was tore up with fresh elk track. I donned my “leafy suit” and made myself at home watching that trail. Anything coming out of that stand of pines would be about a 20 yard shot. I even took a selfie of myself being so sneaky.
As Gattlin would say…”I can see you, but you can’t see me”!!!!
It was getting dark, but I could still see quite well to put an arrow in a critter out to 20 yards, when suddenly down that trail came the sounds of several elk. My heart rushed into my chest especially when I saw the movement of a cow elk coming my direction! OH boy! I readied my tab under the nock of the arrow and tightened up on the string a bit! The cow came to the edge of the timber and then turned and went down the edge just inside the tree line, down and to my left. She had two calves with her that came to the edge and stood looking down her way. The calves had done what I needed the cow to do. I could have shot the calves, but I was in no mind set to do that. Besides, had I tried to get one, I’m sure a pass through would have gotten the second one which was standing broadside along side the closest one. She went down and stopped and it was then that I noticed the breeze was taking my scent directly in her direction. She suddenly snorted and turned, ran up through the trees the way she had gone, ripped past the calves and they joined her up and over the top to wherever scared elk go, never to be seen again. DANG!
No action for this VAP .166 tonight!
Just as suddenly as she had bolted out of there, the sounds of a very irate bull elk on the hill to my far left, began to ring out into the very late evening air! He was snorting, bellowing and tearing up some trees and bushes with his antlers. He was not acting very friendly at all. He wasn’t bugling, but almost to that high pitched sound. He continued to raise hell for several minutes, maybe even a half hour. I decided I might as well make my way to the truck, as it was getting darker and darker. I had about 500 yards to go to the truck. I put my pack on and slowly made my way down through the pines toward the road. I was almost to the road, when suddenly I saw the outlines of 6 cow elk standing on the other side of the road, about 40 yards away from me. They were all looking up toward the bull elk still tearing up the hillside. I froze, like a dummy, instead of trying to close the distance and getting a shot. My thought at the time was, why wasn’t Weasel with me, he could have taken this shot! 40 yards is nothing for him. I’ve seen him hit the bottom of a beer can, consistently out to 60 yards!
And so ended our archery elk hunt for 2018 ! Exciting, but no meat for the freezer.
You know, it isn’t about the harvesting of animals, it’s more about just being out in nature. Being with friends and family and enjoying time away from the every day and the modern stuff. Even though we still rely on trail cameras, iphones, gps, 2 way radios. We also get to see the beauty of this world and what God has created. The animals in their natural environments, doing what they need to do to survive. 
Seeing what was left behind as they traveled the trails trying to survive.
The clear sky’s filled with stars that city people just don’t get to see unless they leave that environment to see it. 
The dust that accumulates because of the lack of rain 
The sounds of coyotes howling in the night that sometimes keeps you awake and sometimes acts like a yoga chant that lulls you to sleep.
The sights of animals a lot of people will never see in their entire lives, and we take it for granted all too often.
Just being there! Getting dirty along the way and then cleaning up as best as you can, given what you have.
YES! I sure hope I have a lot more days like these! And let’s not forget why we get up early!
And if that isn’t enough! Sometimes, God smiles down on you with the bounty of the land that insures you can share with your friends and family. I thank God each and every day for this success!
And Yes, it is the biggest the mountain had to offer. One shot, that’s all any of us can ask for!
Bears Butt
October 18, 2018
This year’s festival was wonderful! The morning air was a brisk 9 degrees according to my truck thermometer and there was not a cloud in the sky. You could see a bunch of elk off and up on the hillside above the ranch feeding area and the guys were moving bales of hay out as I arrived! It was going to be a great day! When it was all said and done and at the end of the day, I was told there were over 1,100 people who came to the event! Us mountain men and women had a great time! I was not able to get pictures of every group that came through for pictures but here are a few! Feel free to download them for your own personal use! Regrettably, some of the images did not turn out to be sharp. I’m very sorry for that, especially if you were counting on my abilities. Maybe next year!
This week, Sherry and I made a little trip up along the trail that Brigham Young sent a small group of LDS missionaries to look into settling the Salmon River area of what is now called Idaho. Back then it was called the Oregon Territory. Brigham Young was actually scouting out another escape route from the US Government, should they decide to come after the Mormons again. Among the small group, some 25 to 30 young men of LDS faith, was my Great Grandfather, Abraham Zundel. This trail is followed pretty closely by the current road systems through this same area and so, our trip was especially interesting to me. The country side has not changed much at all since 1855. Abraham was designated the mail carrier for the mission and so he made several trips from the mission at Limhi to Salt Lake City and back again. All alone, on horseback, with only a pistol and a rifle as his company. The area was home to the Shoshone tribes with the Blackfeet tribes just over the mountains to the East. The missionaries were met by the Shoshone as they arrived at what is now called “Tendoy”, but they called their mission “Fort Limhi”. There is a book written that explains all about it, “Fort Limhi”, by David L. Bigler. You would enjoy reading it, trust me.
Now, back to why I’m writing this: Along the path, is a stream named “Birch Creek” and in this desolate area any water found is an oasis and is where all the animals of the area come for food, drink etc. The mountains to the East are vertical rocks with caves and washes carved out of them from millions of years of wind and rain erosion. Very few trees and not much to look at except for the carved out caves.
Sorry about the picture being blurry,
This area of Idaho, is called the Birch Creek Recreational area and there is a whole lot more to it than this small stream. 
The red area is the camping areas alongside the stream while the blue areas on the map are other atv trails etc. in this area. The camping is free, but they like to have people donate to the cause and there is a dropbox as you leave the campground. We found a nice little spot about a third of the way up from the bottom of the red area on the map and made it our home for the night. The stream flows pretty good considering the desert like area it flows through.
There are some trout in the stream as well and a lot of people fish it. We chose not to get fishing licenses and so, I could only watch the fish swim in the water. The water is very cold which makes swimming and/or wading uncomfortable, at least to old people like me. But can you imagine riding your horse through a virtual desert and how welcoming this stream would have been? I figure my Grandfather camped exactly in this spot and even peed against the same tree I peed against. That’s my story anyway.
So, after a very quiet evening and a great nights sleep, I was up drinking a cup of coffee and decided to take MaPa’s out for his morning ritual and relief exercise. He is a small dog, but can really put you to the test of holding him back while he is on his leash. When he gets on the trail of a “critter” it is all you can do to hold him back, this walk was not exception. We went down stream from our camp and when we were about 400 yards down, He had led us over to the stream edge and through another camp.
Looking down I saw some fresh tracks in the dust around a fire pit and held him back from his pulling long enough to study the prints left in the dirt.
As I’m holding him back, he is trying is darndest to pull me over. But I was studying these tracks and finally I decided it was a big coyote and so I stood back up and headed towards MaPas. He was nose to the ground pulling like the dickens along the edge of the shadow in the above picture. As he started to round the left edge of the bush, I pulled him very hard and said out loud, “Come on fella, let’s get back to camp”, reluctantly he turned to come my direction and as he did, a cougar ran out from the other side of the bush and went straight away from us. MaPas just sat down on his butt and watched as the cat ran off. I’m sure my mouth was wide open as I watched it too. It didn’t take it long to get down stream and run into some bushes at the next camp. My heart was racing like crazy as we quickly walked back to our camp and I kept looking over my shoulder at where the cat was last seen. Back at the camp, I couldn’t wait to tell Sherry what we had just experienced and it took at least 15 minutes before my heart pounding subsided. What would have happened had I let MaPa’s continue around the end of that bush? Was the cat laying in wait for a little puppy on a string? Had it already decided to get out of there before I pulled him away from his pursuit? We will never know, but he is now nicknamed Cougar Bait. I’m very glad that the cat decided to run away. Why MaPa’s didn’t try to chase after it, I’ll never know, because he loves to chase cats back at home. He just sat down on his butt and watched it run away. Maybe because of it’s size it intimidated him, I don’t know. This is my second encounter with a cougar this year (remember the one in the early morning darkness on my turkey hunt?).
August 4, 2017
Bears Butt
So, most of you know that I have a tough time following recipe directions. Last night was not anything new. I had to come up with some idea for supper and had to do it quickly as Sherry was due home within the hour. We had some left over chicken from when I smoked a whole bird the other night (yummy, by the way), so whatever I was going to put together had to have chicken involved.
I went to the all knowledgable world wide web and queried, “chicken recipes”. Up popped one called “Skillet, Chicken Cordon Bleu”. Well, I quickly read down through the instructions and the list of ingredients needed. Some were easy to decide if I had it in the house or not, while others were…well, What the Hell is that…!!!! It sounded great and so that was what I was going to put together.
Here is what the list of ingredients are as per the internet:
The image isn’t really clear, so I’ll have to tell you what some of it says. The first line is 1 lb. penne. Well, for one thing I really have no clue as to what that is, but I think it’s like macaroni. So, to the cupboard I went and found we had two partial bags of what looked like macaroni. One was in the shape of bow ties, the other elbows. I grabbed up both and dumped them into a pot of water and started it boiling. Whatever Penne is will just have to wait for another day. Butter, garlic, flour, salt and pepper, mustard powder, chicken, ham parmesan cheese…it’s all good. I gathered it all up and set it near by for use when it was called for.
In a frying pan I poured in the chicken broth and then started adding the other stuff, like butter, salt and pepper etc. As my macaroni boiled, I kept an eye on it while I mixed up the other stuff. The recipe calls for Heavy cream. Well, the heaviest cream in the fridge was Sour Cream, so that will have to do for now! In went almost the entire tub we had. The macaroni was almost done when I began chopping up the chicken and ham. As those were chopped up I added them to the pan of melted butter and sour cream and seasonings. It was actually smelling pretty good. I turned off the macaroni and poured out the water then added the macaroni to the pan of other stuff. Stirred it up really good and went back to the recipe to see what I had missed, if anything. OH DEAR!!! 2 Cups of Gruyere! What the hell is that? Grabbing my iPhone I asked Serie what it was and she said “hard block of cheese”, or something like that! Well, let’s look in the fridge…no blocks of cheese at all, but there was a partial bag of Mexican Blend shredded cheese, but certainly not 2 cups worth. Well, whatever I had of it went into the pan and got stirred up with the rest.
Then the recipe called for putting it in the oven at 400 degrees after topping it off with parmesan cheese. I liberally covered the top of the pan with parmesan and put the whole kit and caboodle into the oven. Sherry came home and the first thing she said was: “Parmesan”…yep, the house smelled real good of parmesan cheese at that moment.
Later on when we sat down to eat, I wasn’t real sure what the outcome was going to be, but it smelled good and unlike my failed attempt at “if it’s good by itself, it must be good mixed with other stuff that is good by itself…vienna kipper pie”, it actually tasted good. Not exactly like Chicken Cordon Bleu, but it did have a hint of that flavor. I’ll be making that again. So, aside from not putting in the amounts the recipe called for and for not putting in exactly what the recipe called for I modified it to the Bears Butt version and I hope some day you too will try it. When you do, keep in mind a cup of something is quite a bit and unless you like a ton of leftovers, you decide if you should really follow the recipe to a “T” or not. Here is what I ended up with as MY recipe: 
Bears Butt
July 28, 2017
After a couple of weeks drying our mentor told us we could take off the bark from our staves. Weasel did his the other day and today I was able to take mine off. We both used draw knives to accomplish this task. It went quite quickly for me but took Weasel about 4 hours to do his. I think his looks cleaner than mine, but I have my own reason for not taking the extra time getting the bark and secondary layer of pithy covering off mine.
I purchased this draw knife many years ago to peel the bark off our tipi poles and have had it laying around ever since. We have also been loaned another draw knife from our friend Magpie to assist us in getting our bows done. Thanks Magpie!!!
Since, neither Weasel nor I know anything about what we are doing, we are just going along step by step according to what our mentor, Lynn Hayes is telling us. By the way, he leant us a moisture meter to check the moisture content of our staves. After peeling the bark off mine, I measured it and it was 18% at the limbs and 35% in the handle area. Weasel’s measured almost the same. Our bows are beginning to take on some character shapes and what I consider flaws as well. We will see what becomes of these flaws and maybe the entire process will yield to a nice fire outside, time will tell.
Bends and curves, humps and bumps and toss in a twist or two. It’s all good!
Cracks might be another issue all together. We will know the next time Lynn comes around.
But with 35% moisture still in the wood it needs more drying time before we can go to the next step. Our drying tent consists of a heater with regulated heat and fan. The fan blows the air down toward the foot of the tent and then it comes back up and out the same end it began blowing from.
The heater is set for something around 80 degrees and for a cold wet day like today, it feels really warm.
On another note, Weasel and I have been noticing our look at trees is taking on a new perspective. I find myself looking at long straight branches coming out of the bushes and trees growing alongside the roads. Especially the Osage Orange ones growing wildly in peoples fields. Someday they will be cutting those trees down and won’t even know what they are cutting as they are just garbage trees with ugly thorns growing in the way of something else they want to do with their property. All the while some bow making guy wishes he had that tree to work with. And on an even crazier note, I have noticed I’m starting to pay more attention to the growth rings of even the food I’m preparing to eat. Take this salmon steak for instance:
Is that crazy enough?????
March 27, 2017
Bears Butt
Way back in American History, Thomas Jefferson made a great purchase from France, and obtained all the property within the Louisiana Purchase (I’m not a historian, but it was a big deal back then and much trouble came from the purchase), After all, back then a dollar was a lot of money and he spent around 15 million to purchase ground that not too many people had traveled across. It was uncharted territory and politically could have been the end of his career.
Anyway, we all know the end result, as he sent Meriwether Lewis and William Clark to map and charter the territory he had just purchased to open trade with the native Americans and to try and find a water way travel route to the Pacific Ocean from the Missouri River territory in the middle of America. A feat nobody at that time had ever done. The stakes were very high and nobody really knew if a small band of people could even cross this vast open land to do what the President wanted done. They took many supplies, not only for their own companies well being, but also to trade with the native Americans. To say the least, they had TONS of stuff. Lewis was the chart maker, to draw maps and keep track of where they were, by using the stars at night and the instruments of the day to know where they were at all times and to record those moments and land marks as they went. A lady native American went with them…do you know her name? You see there were no such maps at that time…only the mountain men of old who mostly told exaggerated stories of hot springs and gysers and high snow capped mountains and the mountain passes over which they had to travel. But mostly nothing written down in the form of a map for others to follow. Lewis was to make those maps and bring them back to Jefferson. Meanwhile, as they progressed slowly up the Missouri river and beyond, Jefferson sat back in his office in Washington and prayed they would make the trip safely and would come back with word that there was a travel route to the Pacific Ocean and that the Native Americans were friendly toward travelers along the route.
If you want more information about this please look it up on line and read for yourself…http://www.history.com/topics/lewis-and-clark I have teased you with some of the facts…there are more…read about Lewis and Clark having a “BB gun” right here on BearsButt dot com….
Well, Sherry works at Smith and Edwards and the other day a lady came into the store looking for a powder horn, an 1820 vintage mountain man hat and assorted other “era” clothing and told her about her son who was to dress the part of William Clark and give his part in the school American History learning day…a 5th grade event involving all the students. After much discussion, Sherry volunteered my services to keep this lady from spending all her monthly check on fo-for-ah and assorted other necessary things for her son to accomplish this task.
She called me that evening and we discussed her dilema, I thought that perhaps I could help bail her out a little. Well, it isn’t “period” dress, but a lot closer than your typical Sunday go to meeting clothes, her son Kyler likes the look he will sport to the event.
This picture is Kyler and his Grandmother Diane Murdock. Kyler is showing off his Beaver Skin shoulder shawl and fine rifle.
He had quite a few clothing items to choose from and he wanted to try them all, whether he uses them in the show or not, will remain to be seen, but he has quite an assortment to choose from.
Kyler is showing off the warmth of a wool capote with and without the hood up and tied.
And a mountain man didn’t always wear his capote: You are looking quite good there Mountain Man Kyler!
And of course the pictures don’t do much unless there is some action on the scene. Kyler has the look and the passion, now let’s see the action:
THANK YOU KYLER and I really hope your show comes off without a hitch! It has been a pleasure to meet you and your family. YOU WILL GO FAR in this world!
March 15, 2017
Bears Butt
If we can talk about Bucket Lists for a minute, I can share a couple with you right now. I have had a bucket list for awhile and time is starting to run out for me to get mine completed. I accomplished one thing last year and that was to harvest a buck deer with a bow. I managed that in late August of last year. Now my bucket list has changed a little. Now it reads, harvest a buck deer with a bow that I made. Weasels list goes a bit farther. He wants to harvest a buck deer with a bow he made, and use arrows he made that have fletchings (feathers) from turkeys he has killed. He will be awhile on his.
With both of our lists containing the same one item, making our own bows, we got with our friend Lynn Hayes and gleaned a little information from him about wood selection and how to get started making our own bows. He looked over some of the tree choices we have on the farm and decided for us that the black locust either wasn’t worm free, or live enough or whatever and that the Osage Orange trees were not the best of choices for a first bow. We have Hawthorn and wild plum to choose from as well, but the branches in the Hawthorn weren’t too big. After a short time looking into the wild plum bush(tree) he thought he could see a couple of branches that would work. So, plum it will be.
Weasel and I took a ride down there yesterday while the weather was nice a favorable and after just a short look into the bush we could see the branches that Lynn saw a few days before.
There were two branches about the same diameter (3 to 4 inches) that have been growing pretty straight up through all that tangle of other branches and both of them looked like they were straight as straight could be. I grabbed the chain saw and hacked them down. Only then could you see they weren’t as straight as we had thought. There is a lot hiding in that bush.
Back at the house we laid them out to see what our prizes were.
We figured we wanted bows that would be around 6 feet long. Our goals are to end up with bows pulling around 50 pounds once they are finished. So, step one is done…choosing our stick…what next? Well, our what next answer is to call Lynn Hayes for advise! The phone rang and Lynn was happy to hear we had began our adventure. He came running from his home in Brigham to come and save us.
Lynn and Weasel measured the length of the bows and then marked the center of each. It will be the center of the bow where the handles will be.
From the center point, Lynn measured 4 inches on each side of the center mark and drew circles completely around each of the limbs. Then he marked down the center of the full length of the limbs. Measuring was done using his instincts and I have to say he was pretty much right on line.
Then Lynn used his index and middle finger and said, two finger widths from each end of the handle will be the taper toward the ends of the limbs. He made a mark and then drew a line about 45 degrees away from the circle he drew around the limb and down toward the end of the limbs on both sides.
When all the reference marks were made, Lynn was funny when he told us “now the real work begins”…we needed hatchets to chop away the wood from the end of the handles down to the tip of the branches, without cutting past the half way mark on either side of center (down the length) and without cutting past the heartwood in the center of the limbs.
Well, neither Weasel nor I owned a hatchet and so we made the quick trip down to Smith and Edwards and picked up two Eastwing hatchets that are extremely sharp. We started chopping away at the wood beginning at the slanting line and continuing down toward the tip of the branches on either side of the handle marks. This being very foreign to each of us, we were cautious in our chopping and very critical of the job we were doing. At one point we stopped and decided we needed Lynn’s advise again. We jumped in Weasels truck and went to Lynn’s house for that advise. We thought we had chopped to the heartwood, but Lynn took one look at the job we had done and said we still had 1/2 inch more chopping to get to the heartwood. Back home we chopped some more…to the point of sore arm muscles and blister on the hands. But soon we were certain we both had heartwood showing in the centers of our limbs.
It isn’t a clean job, but one that has to be done.
As you can imagine, the wood is very green and springy and will have to dry before we can make our bows. Whittling down the thickness of the bow limbs is just the beginning of the process. But our guide told us we needed to clamp our bow staves onto something solid in order for them to dry without twisting. This is the jig we made up and fastened them to.
It might not look like much to a real bowyer (one who makes bows), but to these two wood hackers it is an adventure worthy of tackling. Not knowing how long the drying process is going to take from this point forward, we figure with these wood staves being only about 1 to 2 inches thick, it shouldn’t be more than a couple of weeks before we can undo them from this anti-twist jig and take hold of the next phase of our bow build. I’m including a youtube video on what it is we are trying to do. Maybe it will help you see what we are up to.
Things you might learn from the next few posts on this site: What is a Bowyer? What is deflex? What is reflex? What is firewood? What is Tillering? Have you heard the song, “Beer for the Tillerman”?
March 5, 2017, Bears Butt
