NickEllis
Member
... after the four days I just spent up in Gillette, Wyoming.
Left Sunday morning with a buddy from Texas, and spent that afternoon scouting the land we were hunting. We would be hunting public walk-in access, and a private property just north of town. The public land was primarily rolling grasslands (looked like high prairie brome), while the private property was about 1500 acres, half alfalfa fields, which rolled into deep canyons. Loaded with mulies and antelope. Wyoming, though a bit desolate at times, has truly beautiful landscape. Heading up to Sheridon, rivals Yellowstone for some of the vistas. I bet the wind out there is downright dangerous in the winter, though.
In Wyoming this year, leftover doe/fawn tags are $29.00, with up to four per hunter. They are clearly trying to thin out the population a bit.
Day 1: Monday - rolled into the private land about 6:00, just at daybreak. First time hunting antelope. We were surprised by the numbers, maybe 80 out in the front field. I'm not sure if the bucks work harems like elk, but two bucks were working themselves into a frenzy clumping does, and keeping them separate from the other groups. We set up with the wind to our backs, since they didn't seem to skittish, and I didn't feel like worrying about wind drift. Turned out it didn't matter, as two does wandered in from the hills to the west at 160 and 250 yards, and so we started off the hunt with two shots, two kills. Mark was using a Rem 700 in .270, and I used an M1a in .308, shooting 168grn A-Max. Both does hit the ground hard. A good start to the week.
We spent the rest of the day scouting the hill country, seeing tremendous amounts of mule deer. As the sun set, however, we set up on the west ridge, with the sun behind us, and one doe walked right into Mark's scope. 220yards, and dead to right.
The evening was finished off by a cross-canyon shot on a grazing doe, working her way south to north across the ridge, courted by a nice 18 inch buck. The light was perfect, highlighting the reds in the sand, which clearly contrasted against the whites of her belly through my 10x42 scope. I lazed a piece of white quartz in her path at 360 yards, the wind dead still. From my ridge, I laid prone in the sharp grass and rock, with jacket and hat for a rifle rest under my front swivel, sling noticeably tight as it gripped my left armpit. I took up the first stage of the trigger, but held my trigger press as she stretched her neck to her shoulder and nibbled on an itch. As she stepped across the rock, my finger applied the additional 3lbs, and as the shot echoed down the canyon, riding through my recoil I saw my bullet catch her boiler room. She died instantly, feet in the air, sliding a few feet down the embankment until she came to rest against a clump of sage.
Later, when I hiked down to dress her, I felt one of those moments of deep contentment. I couldn't help but thank my Father for the sage-scented air, the gift of the hunt, the wonder of nature, the clean kill.
I was gratified to find the left shoulder broken, and the top 2/3 of her heart were liquified. Following Larry A's advice, I took the meat from the bone immediately, and iced it. Hopefully those backstraps and steaks will be nice and tasty.
The rest of the hunt was equally marvelous. We took seven does and a buck. The longest shot was on Tuesday, following a seventh clean kill at 400 yards. A doe walked past at 550 yards and stopped. My bullet caught the base of her neck and dropped her in her tracks. I don't know if that last shot was a smart idea, however I was confident after the 400 yard kill. The wind was a slight 2 mph breeze to left to right. Applying the correct windage, from a prone position, the reticles were frozen on her shoulder. My bullet hit two inches high and three inches left.
We got back this afternoon, with a cooler filled with steaks, lips a bit chapped from the wind. A very enjoyable hunt, which provided some challenging shooting, and terrific wildlife. I'm glad to be home with the wife, but am looking forward to next weekend! The hills of Colorado are waiting.
Left Sunday morning with a buddy from Texas, and spent that afternoon scouting the land we were hunting. We would be hunting public walk-in access, and a private property just north of town. The public land was primarily rolling grasslands (looked like high prairie brome), while the private property was about 1500 acres, half alfalfa fields, which rolled into deep canyons. Loaded with mulies and antelope. Wyoming, though a bit desolate at times, has truly beautiful landscape. Heading up to Sheridon, rivals Yellowstone for some of the vistas. I bet the wind out there is downright dangerous in the winter, though.
In Wyoming this year, leftover doe/fawn tags are $29.00, with up to four per hunter. They are clearly trying to thin out the population a bit.
Day 1: Monday - rolled into the private land about 6:00, just at daybreak. First time hunting antelope. We were surprised by the numbers, maybe 80 out in the front field. I'm not sure if the bucks work harems like elk, but two bucks were working themselves into a frenzy clumping does, and keeping them separate from the other groups. We set up with the wind to our backs, since they didn't seem to skittish, and I didn't feel like worrying about wind drift. Turned out it didn't matter, as two does wandered in from the hills to the west at 160 and 250 yards, and so we started off the hunt with two shots, two kills. Mark was using a Rem 700 in .270, and I used an M1a in .308, shooting 168grn A-Max. Both does hit the ground hard. A good start to the week.
We spent the rest of the day scouting the hill country, seeing tremendous amounts of mule deer. As the sun set, however, we set up on the west ridge, with the sun behind us, and one doe walked right into Mark's scope. 220yards, and dead to right.
The evening was finished off by a cross-canyon shot on a grazing doe, working her way south to north across the ridge, courted by a nice 18 inch buck. The light was perfect, highlighting the reds in the sand, which clearly contrasted against the whites of her belly through my 10x42 scope. I lazed a piece of white quartz in her path at 360 yards, the wind dead still. From my ridge, I laid prone in the sharp grass and rock, with jacket and hat for a rifle rest under my front swivel, sling noticeably tight as it gripped my left armpit. I took up the first stage of the trigger, but held my trigger press as she stretched her neck to her shoulder and nibbled on an itch. As she stepped across the rock, my finger applied the additional 3lbs, and as the shot echoed down the canyon, riding through my recoil I saw my bullet catch her boiler room. She died instantly, feet in the air, sliding a few feet down the embankment until she came to rest against a clump of sage.
Later, when I hiked down to dress her, I felt one of those moments of deep contentment. I couldn't help but thank my Father for the sage-scented air, the gift of the hunt, the wonder of nature, the clean kill.
I was gratified to find the left shoulder broken, and the top 2/3 of her heart were liquified. Following Larry A's advice, I took the meat from the bone immediately, and iced it. Hopefully those backstraps and steaks will be nice and tasty.
The rest of the hunt was equally marvelous. We took seven does and a buck. The longest shot was on Tuesday, following a seventh clean kill at 400 yards. A doe walked past at 550 yards and stopped. My bullet caught the base of her neck and dropped her in her tracks. I don't know if that last shot was a smart idea, however I was confident after the 400 yard kill. The wind was a slight 2 mph breeze to left to right. Applying the correct windage, from a prone position, the reticles were frozen on her shoulder. My bullet hit two inches high and three inches left.
We got back this afternoon, with a cooler filled with steaks, lips a bit chapped from the wind. A very enjoyable hunt, which provided some challenging shooting, and terrific wildlife. I'm glad to be home with the wife, but am looking forward to next weekend! The hills of Colorado are waiting.
