Braggin' Rights - November 2011

Success - Photo Courtesy of Angela Hanberg

“Don’s Dream Hunt” -  Photo Courtesy of Mike G

“Breakfast Time” - Photo Courtesy of Kerry Bray

“Day of the Dead” - Art Courtesy of Carol Swallowcliffs

Rilee's Day - November 2011

Submitted By: Shawn O'Bagy

Rilee poses with her trusty .223 and her trophy for the day.

We saw the dog approaching rapidly through the light green sage. At 80 yards he stopped to survey the location of the dying rabbit he heard 15 minutes earlier. My crosshairs were buried on his snow-white chest in case Rilee didn't have a clear shot. "Shoot Rilee or he's going to bail", I whispered to her. I briefly looked towards her to watch as she pulled the .223 close to her shoulder while taking a deep breath. I returned my gaze to the dog just in time for the shot. "Did I get it?" was all she said.
    The day began a few hours earlier as Rilee, my 10 year-old-daughter, asked me to take her coyote hunting. Coyote hunting, for those who know me, is my favorite type of hunting. Normally, I take my boys but not this time. Today was Rilee's day.
    The day was not ideal for hunting dogs; warm and sunny. My hopes were not high as we left Vernal, but I wanted to make sure she had a great time. She was just excited to be in the truck with dad. No boys, no mom, just Rilee.
    Our first set was uneventful but with the sun just high enough for one final stand we hurried to the second location. We sat on a sagebrush knob facing east. Our shadows grew as the sun raced towards the horizon. Views of sage flats and cedar ridges were plentiful. I called the vast valley with the call that Rilee chose. She said that she liked the way it sounded. I guess the dog liked it too because he showed himself within a few minutes.
    We noticed the dog from 500 yards away with only a few minutes of shooting light remaining. I was excited for her as she steadied for a shot. The dog was closing the distance in a hurry. At 100 yards, just as she was ready to pull the trigger, he dropped into a ridge that was difficult to notice from our vantage point. Almost immediately, he surfaced on the nearside of the ridge, almost 20 yards closer than the last time we saw him. Bad move.
    Rilee is no stranger to hunting, which was evident as she steadied for the shot on the statuesque varmint. He stood motionless for a few seconds, watching the horizon like a sniper. We, likewise, remained motionless. I know my heart was pumping from the adrenaline running through my veins. I can only imagine the commotion inside my little girl's 60-pound body. Regardless, she sat rock solid. The dog, after a few waning seconds, began to walk towards his right as if he did not want to play. I have seen this too many times, which rarely ended up in my favor. I bellowed a bark, which stopped him in his tracks.
    BOOM! "Did I get him"? I watched the shot from her .223 reach its mark. "Yes, Rilee, you did!" I said excitedly. Her bright smile and messy blond hair was all I remember before giving her the celebratory hug. "Go get your dog", I told her. As she walked towards the furry critter, I couldn't quit smiling. I was a proud papa. This indeed was Rilee's Day.

 

The Good Ol' Days - November 2011

By: Angela Hanberg
It doesn't seem that long ago we were piling Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, Dad and three of us kids in the little CJ7 and high-tailing it to Diamond Mountain for the deer hunt. I remember bouncing around, smacking our heads on the top of the jeep as we four-wheeled out over the sage brush to find a convenient place to glass the hillside for a big buck. It only took a couple days and we were hauling home two or three nice boys strapped onto that little jeep in pretty precarious locations. Covered in blood, dirt and sweat we'd make our way home to cut up roasts to fill the freezer. We always knew which one was Grandpa's - he'd shoot 'em in the eye... We'll always remember the memories, but a lot of us may forget what the hunting was like back then. I'm also not sure that my kids will ever experience a hunt like we used to have.
    It wasn't uncommon to pass on good bucks and bulls back then, knowing you'd probably have a chance at a better one. Remembering some of the racks my folks ended up with, I'd gladly give my left big toe for one nowadays. I love this time of year- the family time, the stories, the reminiscing - and thought it would be a great chance to dig into the Basin's history of a few of these Big Boys.


THE YEAR OF THE MONSTERS


Billie (Hodgkinson) White and her monster buck - 1959

    Twenty three year old Billie (Hodgkinson) White didn't quite know what she was in for when her husband, Carl, took her on her 2nd hunting trip in 1959. The proud owner of a brand new .243 she'd never even pulled the trigger on, she hadn't even had time to purchase a scope for her rifle. They ended up on Dyer Ridge in October, it was cold, and Billie admitted to huffing and puffing up the hillside, "Carl said, 'You're gonna scare off all the deer in the country with all your huffing and puffing.' so he found me a nice big rock and it looked down off into a beautiful meadow. It looked just like off a [hunting] show."

    Carl sat her there to watch the clearing down below while he did a "sashay" around the top of the ridge to look things over. While Billie was at her post, shivering from the cold, she looked down to the clearing to see a monster come walking through. Holding her open sites where she assumed she'd hit the front shoulder, she pulled the trigger and down he went - with a broken spine. (Now, I have to interject here, and say that is my particular signature shot. I've taken two deer that way and it's an awful fantastic alternative to gut shot... which I have unfortunately had the displeasure of dealing with also.)
    "I looked down there and thought wow, he's a whopper! And I was just sitting there trying to figure out what to do with him. I knew he couldn't go anywhere, but Carl came back about that time and he thought I'd fallen down and shot myself. He never dreamed I'd see a deer like that. I said 'It's a pretty big one isn't it?' and he said 'BIG?! It's a MONSTER!'" Being the nice companion he was, Carl finished him off so Billie didn't have to. She said she was shaking pretty bad and hiding behind a tree by then anyway. But she DID clean it herself.
    Back then, Bob and Beverly Williams owned a sporting goods store and put together a Big Buck Contest. When they first brought him in, he was ahead for the largest deer, widest spread (at 33 1/2") and the most points. They gave a rifle for the biggest deer, a pistol for the widest spread and new binoculars for the most points. The next day Erland Preece (The administrator of the hospital) who were camped not a mile from where Billie got her giant, came in with an identical twin to her buck. When they brought the buck back on opening morning, he had field dressed at 303 lbs. For non-typical, it just missed Boone and Crockett by a few points, but was scored years later. Boyd Workman ended up winning widest spread, Lou Littleton for heaviest body and Billie won the binoculars with the most (scoreable) points. She says she's always gotten grief for this picture of her in the pretty dress with her dead deer. She was the society editor for the Vernal Express at the time and when she went into work that day, Jack Wallis asked her to bring the deer in for a picture for the paper. Myself, I'd let people just keep on thinking I was classy!
    That same day, 20-year old Boyd Workman had gone up on top of Grizzly Ridge with his friend Johnny Robbins, Johnny's dad, and various friends. The night before, the whole crew except for Boyd and Johnny decided it would be a fantastic idea to stay up all night and get smashed (or insert DRUNK if you'd rather.) Come daylight, Boyd and Johnny were the only ones in any shape to get up and go find a buck. Their soberness paid off and they returned to camp with a big 7x7 Boyd shot. After a bit of discussion as to who's it would be, Johnny admitted to Boyd that he wasn't a great shot and would let him have this one if he'd prefer.
    Boyd brought home the prize from Bob's for widest spread with a whopping 37 1/4" measurement. He also won 7th place at Zenix' competition in Salt Lake for the whole state and didn't realize how big it actually was till then. He says at the time, mounting the horns wasn't really a priority so they just tossed them up on top of his dad's shed. A few years later, Leo Cutshaw ran across them and asked if he could have them. He put them on a plaque and hung them in his radiator shop down town, claiming them as his own and taking credit for years and years. Leo was considered the best fisherman in town so no one probably thought to question his hunting skills. After Leo died, that 7x7 rack disappeared and the current whereabouts is unknown.
    Not every hunter tends to be so lucky though. I had not heard this particular story until I started writing this article and was discussing it with my parents. My dear sweet grandma passed away from this world fourteen years ago. Had I heard about this while she was still with us, I probably would have teased her mercilessly. The story goes: my grandparents, Paul and Barbara Caldwell, were up hunting on Diamond Mountain. Grandpa knew where there was a big buck and took her to the exact place he assumed he would probably maybe come through, then went to do the same type of sweep Carl Hodgkinson had done for Billie. Just like Billie, Grandma also saw a huge buck come walking through the clearing. Apparently Grandpa had seen it too, and when he got back to where she was, Grandma asked "Did you see it Paul?! Wasn't he big?!" Grandpa said yeah he saw it, but why didn't she shoot it? She said "I did! I emptied my gun." Well, sure enough, she'd emptied her gun alright, but never did pull the trigger. She was so excited she kept pumping full shells through that old 30-30 and they were all laying in a neat little pile beside her as proof.


TWO SIDES TO EVERY STORY

Karl Karren and his nontypical monster - 1968

    Morgan Caldwell (yep, my dad) told me this one about Karl Karren and I couldn't help to go see the man himself and get a look at this buck with my own eyes. Back in the mid-70's, my dad and grandpa had went to Karl's place to bale hay. In the course of conversation, Karl asked if they had ever seen his big buck he'd got a few years before, back in 1968 or 1969. This monster 6x7, after the junk, measured out at just a hair over 44" wide. He's just a bit shorter than the full length of the rifle that killed him.

    Karl said he was up on the back side of Warren Draw when he saw this buck coming up the ridge. He hit him, but had to hike down and find the blood trail. After following him a ways, the found him and his son helped finish him off. Karl says it doesn't matter who kills him, the guy with the first hit gets to claim him, so he did. When Dad heard the story and saw the buck, he put two and two (in this case, six and seven) together and thought back to his side of the story: While on the backside of Jackson Draw, that same day years ago, he'd seen this once-in-a-lifetime buck and threw a couple shots at him himself. Certain he'd hit him, he searched and searched for a blood trail and never could find one. Apparently he'd never touched a hair. He lost sight of the buck and hadn't seen him again till he was hanging on Karl Karren's wall. They figured after Dad shot, the buck gave him the slip and came up on the other side of the draw where Karl got that chance at him. I can just imagine that sick feeling of missing one like that, but the memory of even seeing him has got to ease that a bit. What a coincidence to compare the two sides of that situation so many years after the fact! This is certainly not a buck anyone would ever forget (or confuse with another one.)

Karl Karren and his nontypical monster - Current Day

    Be happy with your trophies, but more importantly, be happy the stories and memories you've made and share them. You never when someone will want to hear them, even if it's 50 years or so down the road.



 

Braggin' Rights - October 2011

“Playing for Sgt. Gurr” - Photo Courtesy of Danny Thompson

“Mariel’s Elk” -  Photo Courtesy of Mariel Hansen



Its Archery Time” - Photo Courtesy of Mark S.

“My Dream Mule Deer” - Photo Courtesy of John Jaquez

Hunting Season Ethics - October 2011

Hunting season is upon us. People are busy loading their ATV's and hauling their camp trailers to the mountain in preparation for the opening day. Others are getting their horses shod and supplies ready to pack into the high country. Hunters are focused on the logistical preparations for the hunt. All too often, many of us forget to remind ourselves of our obligation to be responsible and ethical hunters before the hunting seasons begin. Hunting ethics can be roughly defined as out standards, conduct, and moral judgment before, during, and after the hunt. Before going afield, each of us should take a few minutes to think about how we as hunters should act while pursuing game in the field. I'd like to offer a few things for you to ponder.


Safety
A few years ago, my brother and I were glassing a sagebrush draw with a small herd of deer. In the herd was one small spike buck. We both decided that we were going to pass on this buck. As we were standing there, a truck drove down the ridge on the other side of the draw and stopped on the other side of the deer. To my amazement, these people began shooting at the buck with us directly behind the deer!! We quickly took cover and waited for the shooting to stop. Shooting at a big game animal can be a very exciting experience. However, hunters must remember that safety ALWAYS comes first and shooting game animals comes second. You can always get another opportunity at harvesting an animal, but you can never give someone their life back.


Shooting
Every hunter should take the time before the hunt to spend some time shooting their bow, rifle, or muzzleloader. Not only is it important to have the weapon sighted in accurately, but the shooter also needs to become familiar and comfortable with their weapon. Do some practice away from the range in more random settings and become familiar with judging distances. Some of the best target shooters have been known to blow their shot at a big game animal. It is the responsibility of every hunter to make the best shot they can. The animal deserves the respect of a clean and quick kill from a well practiced hunter.
    Hunters should take some time and get in as close as possible to their target animal. Sure, cousin Johnny's Christensen Arms 300 RUM with the carbon fiber barrel topped with a Huskemaw scope will shoot 800 yards. My question is, why? With a little effort and stealth, hunters can usually get within 500 yards for a close and accurate shot. Your new Mathews bow may have an 80 yard pin, but should you take such a risky shot? Even close shots can result in a wounded animal. We all must remember to follow up on every shot and make every effort to recover any wounded game.


Respect Others Space
A few years ago, I had been watching a herd of elk all summer with a few branched antler bulls on a general season elk unit. Every morning they would feed out of a canyon and bed in some timber on the ridge above them. Opening morning came, and as I wait in my vehicle at the point where I planned to begin my hike, I was amazed that no other hunters were in the area. Then, about 10 minutes before shooting time, two vehicles pull up directly behind me and get out of their vehicles. They were making a ton of noise and began running in the direction of the elk. Needless to say, the elk all scattered, none of us shot an elk, and I was frustrated. We all need to give one another a little space. If you encounter someone sitting in a tree stand on a water hole, leave them alone and move on. There is plenty of room for everyone out there, without crowding in on someone else. Otherwise, talk to the other hunters already present and ask if they mind if you hunt alongside them.


Road Hunting
Lets face it, we all have road hunted from time to time. In some areas, its actually a pretty effective way of spotting large numbers of game animals. But road hunters can be very frustrating. Nothing bothers me more than trying to drive to my parking spot so I can begin my hike only to have a road hunter driving at snails pace, and will not let me pass because I might beat them to the game. If you are going to road hunt, pull over when someone comes up behind you.


Displaying Your Harvest
After harvesting an animal, hunters experience excitement and pride. It is only natural to want to show your animal off. There is nothing wrong with that. Hunters must always remember to do so in a tasteful and respectful manner. The world's eyes are upon the hunting community. Some people disagree with hunting. My point is, show the animal and other people respect by being tasteful in how you haul your trophy to town. I was disgusted one day when I saw a truck with a camper shell on the back driving through Vernal. Out of the back window of the shell hung the heads of a pair of two point bucks. These individuals went out of their way to display these animals in a less than tasteful fashion. I am not advocating that hunters "hide" their harvest, just make sure it is done in a manner that is not offensive to others.


Degrading Others Trophy's
An acquaintance drew out for a highly sought after limited entry elk tag a few years ago. After five days of hunting he killed a very nice 7x6 bull, and he was very excited and happy. The next day in town, he proudly showed some friends his bull. One of these individuals asked him why he shot that bull, didn't he want to shoot a bull that would score 380"? Of course the friend had seen several "380" bulls that year and knew right were they were (sarcasm intended). The hunter was deflated. The trophy is in the eye of the beholder. Each person has their own idea of what a trophy is. In today's hunting scene, people are all to often hung up on scores. Scores do not matter, they are just a number. Each hunter needs to make themselves happy with their trophy. The rest of us should just say "nice buck", or "good bull" and congratulate them on their achievement.


    Hunting ethics are really an application of common sense, respect, and courtesy to others and the wildlife hunters pursue. As long as hunters remain thoughtful of these principles while hunting in the field, I believe they will find the experience is going to be enjoyable for them and other sportsmen they may encounter. Have a great hunting season!