With all the great stories, equipment, adventures and people out there I thought it would be great to get some pictures.  If you have any pictures from a hunt, your gear or best of all you geared up that would be great.  If you send in pictures I will post on our site as well as putting some of the best pictures on all our sites.  Things I am looking for, but not limited to.

•    Gear: Clothes, utility tools, ATV’s…
•    Favorite weapons: guns, bows, sticks, stones…
•    Best Duck Blind or Hide…
•    You, family or friends dressed for the hunt…
•    Where you hunt

All I need is a digital picture in any PC compatible format and a description of the picture.  You can make the description as long or short as you would like.  If there is a story behind the picture we would love to hear about it.

Send Pictures to:

Todd Krater
U.S. Hunting Today
Managing Editor
todd@ushuntingtoday.com

Note: If you want a picture posted and do not have a digital copy I would be willing to scan it for you.  Please contact me for details.

US Hunting Today reserves the right to refuse any picture for any reason as well as edit it where appropriate.

Tanner Colten Moad, 5 years old, is one of the coolest kids I know. The youngest of 4 children of mine, Tanner never stops moving.
Before gun season in central eastern Oklahoma, the traditional bow season usually takes priority. I had taken the first week of bow season off from work in an attempt to tag out early at the request of my wife Lori. In her mind, if I was to tag out early, my deer season would then be “dear” season, with lots of additional chores getting done that get overlooked during each year’s deer season.

As a bow hunter, I was able to harvest a doe pretty quick, and two days later, stuck a nice 8 point that only took two steps before falling over. I had watched that buck spare with a 9-point two days earlier, and was in hopes I could manage to get the edge on one of them as both were very big bodied deer. Well, upon getting the close up view of the 8-point I had just harvested, I realized that half way up one side of his G-2, his antlers were completely broken off. A few of his other tines were damaged as well, which led me to believe that the 9-point he had previously been sparing with, probably wasn’t sparing anymore.

With bow season quickly becoming gun season, my son Tanner, was getting pretty excited about going hunting with dad this year. I had to work the first day of the season, but promised to take him on Sunday. Sunday afternoon, around 3:00pm, I was off to the deer woods and had my little man right there with me on the 4-wheeler. We drove to a spot where not much hunting activity was going on, and climbed into the buddy stand that was located there. The buddy stand had the camouflage netting around its fall protective bars and I knew that if a deer did come in, that the anticipated movements of my son would go undetected.

To my surprise, Tanner, sat quietly in the stand with me, pulled out his binoculars, and commenced to scanning the woods all around. When a squirrel would drop an acorn from a tree, it would hit the leaves, and Tanner would turn quickly to identify what made the noise. He would whisper to me that he thought he heard something over there, or over there, and over there. I know this sounds crazy, but I loved every minute of watching him pay attention to what was going on in the woods around him. Now he was hungry, 15 minutes after we were in the stand. He pulled out a package of crackers and quietly munched on them while looking around. We switched positions about 10 times, so he could see everything. He would ask me questions about all kinds of woods activities and now sat in my lap to get a better view. About 1 and ½ hours in the stand now, Tanner started doing the chicken head. You know, when someone is trying desperately not to fall asleep, but their eyes roll back, and their heads starts popping up. Well, it wasn’t long before “Mr. Energy” was resting against my arm, quietly sleeping.

Soon as Tanner decided to snooze, I elected to stay in the stand since there was only about 30 minutes left of daylight. So I positioned Tanner so he could lay down across the buddy stand seat that was covered with a camouflage blanket, and I would stand up. After positioning Tanner towards comfort, I stood up in the stand, now facing the rear, and spotted a nice buck standing there watching me. I touched Tanner on the face and arm attempting to wake him from his afternoon nap. I whispered to him “Tanner, there is a deer, wake up”. No response. So I looked back up the deer was gone. I positioned my rifle across the stand bars and waited for the deer to exit the brush. Just as I thought, he walked right through the opening in the brush headed for the deep woods. I announced I was there with a mouthed made “grunt”. He stopped and “bang”. As soon as the shot rang out, “Tanner, jumped up, wide eyed and said “Did I GET HIM?. Excited now, he really wanted to know if he got a deer. I smiled at him and excitedly said yes son, you got a big old buck. He jumped up and down in the stand and hugged me, and said “Well, where is he? Let’s go get him.” His little voice was squeaking high and low with excitement. This was his first experience in the deer woods hunting, and man he sure loved it, as did I. We climbed down the stand together, and went to where the buck was standing. I showed him the blood on the ground and explained to him that he should walk beside the blood, not in it, when he was tracking a deer. He started to walk beside the trail when he squeaked again. “I found him, he is right there” pointing. All of these events happening so fast, I wanted them to slow down some so I could savor the enjoyment of watching him. I showed him the caution of approaching a wounded or dead animal, helped him count the points on the antlers, and hugs and pride just rushed through me. After all, this hunt was supposed to be all about him.

He helped me load the deer on the 4-wheeler, and away we went to show the family. Close to the house now, I walked beside the 4-wheeler and allowed Tanner to drive up to the house. Picture this, A five year old boy, dressed in a camouflage shirt and orange hat with vest, driving a ranch 4-wheeler with a rifle in the rack on the front, and a 140 pound 8-point deer strapped to the utility rack in the back, coming out of the deer woods and driving up to the house with his mother waiting for him with a camera. Wouldn’t you be proud? I know I was. Tanner will never forget his first deer hunt, but neither will I. I think Lori, my wife and his mother, took a million pictures that evening.
Not only that, but he beat me this year with his deer. Mine during bow season was 150 pounds, but his rack was bigger. It is good to start them off young.

The first week of October was finally here.  The first three days were spent in my favorite stand watching 3 raccoons in which I had named Larry, Curly, and Moe.  The mother raccoon was slightly bigger than the two younger ones, and seemed curious to every movement surrounding them.  The days here in eastern Oklahoma in October were still in the 80’s with mosquitoes buzzing everywhere.  I was wondering if it were still to hot to hunt and questioned myself again over and over.  Each day so far, I had hunted morning and evening with only a few does showing up.

Our family is one of three families (all related) that live on the mountain with about 360 acres of land owned by our families.  Each year we hunt, we always establish the rules.  {8 Point or better for the husbands} {Wives and kids, buck or doe} Now last year I hunted all year and didn’t harvest one deer, but I had seen enough antlers to keep me excited.  Every time Bill and Grover, my brother in-laws, sure let me know how I got spanked on last years hunt.  Both are avid rifle hunters and tagged out the year I brought home nothing.  I was thinking about this already early in this season while elevated about 18 feet up in my climber.  I wondered, as every other hunter does, will this be my year.  As I looked down from my stand at the raccoons again on the 4^th morning of October 2007, I was once again thinking of how pretty they were and how every day I am in the woods, I look for the highlight of the day.  Whether this was the highlight of the day again, or was an owl going to sit on the limb next to me, a squirrel sitting on my boot, quail leaving a fast trail for a coyote, bobcats on the prowl, turkeys rustling, what was going to be the highlight?

Then, I saw movement directly in front of me.  I was a deer for sure, and no does were present yet.  I had placed my stand in what my wife calls the quiet spot.  High cedars with no brush, not to thick, but perfect for a good bow shot.  A well used doe trail to my right, and another trail coming in from the left, thicker trees to my front.  I could see about 40 yards around me with a creek bed behind me on a down hill gentle slope. The deer in front of me wasn’t spooked or aware of my presence as it slowly made its way directly toward me.  Sun to my back and the breeze in my face, finally, I could see him completely.  “Very nice buck” I was thinking.  As he moved closer and closer, I could count 4 on one side and 4 on the other.  Not sure if I wanted to take the shot just yet, I moved into position just in case.  Standing now and ready to draw, I used the bow as if I was hiding behind its small limbs.  The buck was much bigger than I originally thought the closer he moved to my stand.  20 yards and still coming, 10 yards and still coming.  He stopped, head concealed by a large cedar tree.  I came to full draw and picked my shooting lane.  As if knowing I was now ready to shoot, the 8 point stepped from behind the cedar and moved closer, directly into my shooting lane.  7 yards, I picked my hairs on the buck, just behind the shoulder and quartering down.  I could sense the raccoons to my right and felt a sense of calm, took a large breath, let it out half way, became steady as a rock and released.

{‘Wham”}  I dropped him in his tracks.  I intended to penetrate spine, heart, and lung if possible for a deadly and swift kill.  My broadhead did exactly that.  I stood for a moment and watched the buck lie still and quiet.  Larry, Curly, and Moe were nowhere to be seen.  I called my wife using my cell phone and quietly whispered I had a good buck down, her response to me was “why are we whispering”.  Laughing a little I said, I am in the quiet spot.

After checking the buck in and heading to the processors, I continued to hunt the evening in another stand.  Each day I hunted, I elected to use my climber instead of pre-placed stands used each year.  October the 7^th, 3 days after my first buck of the year, my 14 year old son was ready for action.  This would be his first year bow hunting, and he practiced every day for the last two months.  He was actually quite good shooting the pillow target and 3D’s, in which I was very proud.  Sunday after church, he would be in the woods with me for the evening hunt.  Everything seemed to go wrong.  I found out he was afraid of heights the hard way, but patiently, I assisted him into a lock-on stand with steps, explained the safety belt, strapped him in and climbed down.  I hooked his bow on the bow string and up and away the bow went.  While the bow was being pulled up by my son, I was watching all around me, trying to quiet down the woods, when {Wham}!!!!  My right hand was numb.  I looked at my hand and there was a deep cut to the bone on the top.  My son had almost had the bow in his stand when the bow string slipped.  The bow caught me square across my hand.  Seriously nervous and seeing the blood, my son asked if I was alright and maybe we should just go home and get the hand took care of.  He said he was so sorry and it just slipped, and…………  I assured my son everything was fine, helped him get the bow up the stand, and assured him he was ready to hunt.  “Don’t worry about me son, you just keep your eyes out for the big one.  I will be about 100 yards straight across the creek.”  I pointed with my other hand where I would be, wished him good luck, then started walking away from his stand. After crossing the creek and out of sight from Chase, I stopped and looked at the top of my right hand.  I was hurt pretty good, and I still couldn’t make a fist yet.

Not wanting to leave the woods with my son still in a stand, I elected to set up on a trail I knew of and wait it out.  I pulled off the climber from my shoulder and worried a little about if I could even use the stand to climb or not.  After setting up the stand at the bottom of the tree I picked out, we were going to find out if I could climb with one hand.  It actually wasn’t that bad.  Up the tree I went, got situated, smiled a little at how stupid I was to stand directly under my sons stand when he was raising his bow then shrugged it off as “my stupidity, my fault.” Now situated and seated in my stand, I wondered if I could even draw my bow back with the bum hand.  So, I stood up quietly, drew the bow and wow, man did that hurt.  I sat back down and thought once again, I hope a big buck goes by my son instead of me this evening.  Not real sure I could even draw again.

45 minutes later, about 6:05pm, I caught movement from over my right shoulder.  Yep, you guessed it.  It was a buck, but a very small buck.  Knowing that early in this season the bucks were still traveling together, I stood, turned and prepared.  Sure enough, 5 yards behind the 4 point, was a small basket 8 point.  Immediately I decided not to shoot this small 8.  To my surprise, directly on his heals was a really nice 8 point.  Now I was getting excited.  By the way, the first buck in front had walked directly under my stand and was now in front of my stand.  I drew slowly, aimed center mass of the shooting lane in a gap in the brush.  The small 8 point buck walked through the gap, and then “There he was”,  A fine 8 point standing in the gap.  Once again, I picked my area of hair behind the shoulder, quartered down, controlled the breathing, paused, and slowly squeezed the trigger release.

{Wham} I dropped him in his tracks.  I intended to penetrate spine, heart, and lung if possible again and sure enough, the broadhead did the work.  Can you believe this, 6 yards, another nice buck on the ground, just laying there.  I stood in amazement, I was shocked.  This was a really nice buck, pretty wide and may score as well.  The odd thing about this was, “dropped in his tracks.”  The very thing every hunter hopes for is to find the deer, or even better a swift and clean kill.  Well, not only did I find the deer three or four days ago, I found this one too.  I was like a dream.  Two 8 point bucks, both bow kills, both in the same week, both dropped in their tracks. I realized after a brief moment of silence, that my hand did not hurt anymore, and to make things even better, my son was on this hunt with me only 100 yards away. The two bucks that were in front of this one, there would be a good chance Chase saw them or even may get a shot.  But what will always cross my mind is how big was the buck that was still coming in from behind the buck I harvested.  I saw him jump when I released.  I climbed down and walked to Chases stand, walked cautiously up to the side of him and told him we had a good buck down.  Excited, he said he saw two bucks running and asked how big my buck was.  I told him, “well, I don’t know really, maybe you should help me track him”.  Chase was so excited when he walked up to my tree, buck in plain site.  “Man, I’m gonna get me a buck like that” I went to retrieve the 4-wheeler, we loaded the deer and headed to the house.  I was kind of in a hurry as the darkness was starting to set in, and I still needed to check this buck in too.  Arriving at our home on the mountain, my father stepped out on the deck and observed our approach.  My father had just come in from out of town that day to visit us for a week, so that was kind of cool him seeing me bring in another deer.  He was a big deer hunter with hunting skills that I always admired.

As far as the wife goes, she was so excited.  Not so much that I had gotten a nice buck, but that I had gotten two nice bucks with a bow in the first week of hunting season.  She rubbed it in real good to her two brothers whom still hadn’t harvested anything.  The next morning, as I watched the brother in laws roll out to the woods to deer hunt, I told them the same thing I always told them.  “Good luck and I hope you get a big one” Every bit of this is true, and I honestly believe this will be hard for me to beat next year.  After all, now my season just went from deer season, to “dear” season.  Being tagged out in the first week of bow season is a sure sign that honey-do’s will be a major part of the rest of my season.

This is a warning to outdoor users about a potentially deadly biological event that could result from one’s curiosity to poke at and kick through scat from wolves, coyotes and foxes. Of course not everyone knowingly does this but many hunters, trappers and simply the curious, want to know what these animals have been eating.

Back in the end of November I gave you a link to a story, “Of Wolves and Worms”. That story introduced many of us to the subject of worms being found in wolves in the Greater Yellowstone area.

According to a new study out in the October issue of the Journal of Wildlife Diseases, three-millimeter-long tapeworms known as Echinococcus granulosus, are documented for the first time in gray wolves in Idaho and Montana. And the authors didn’t just find a few tapeworms here and there… turns out that of 123 wolf intestines sampled, 62 percent of the Idaho gray wolves and 63 percent of the Montana gray wolves were positive. (Ew!) The researchers wrote: “The detection of thousands of tapeworms per wolf was a common finding.” (Again… Ew!!) This leads to the interpretation that the E. granulosus parasite rate is fairly widespread and established in the Northern Rocky Mountain wolves.

There is discussion about how some think the worms ended up in the wolves in this region but the article tends to downplay any serious concerns people should have from coming in contact with these tapeworms and the eggs they leave behind.

In the comments section of the article, Will Graves, author of the book “Wolves in Russia: Anxiety Through the Ages“, left his thoughts on his own research discoveries about the dangers to humans of these parasites.

In the first paragraph in my letter to Mr. Bangs dated 3 October 1993 on the DEIS (Draft Environmental Impact Statement) which was titled “The Reintroduction of Gray Wolves to Yellowstone National Park and Central Idaho,” I warned about the damages and problems wolves would cause to Yellowstone and other areas by carrying and spreading parasites and diseases over larger areas. Some of these parasites are damaging not only to wild and domestic animals, but can also be dangerous to humans. One of these parasites is Echinococcous Granulosus and Echinococcus M. Since 1993 I have been working to tell people what I have learned from about 50 years of research on the characteristics, habits and behavior of Russian wolves. From that research I came to the conclusion that one of the most serious consequences of bring wolves into the US would be the wolves carrying and spreading around damaging/dangerous parasites and diseases. I did my best to explain this in my book titled, “Wolves in Russia – Anxiety Through the Ages” edited by Dr. Valerius Geist. Details about my book are in my web site: wolvesinrussia.com.

After several years effort, I finally recently obtained help from the U.S. Department of Agriculture, Parasitic Research Center in Beltsville, MD. This research center will try to conduct research on the blood taken from wolves in our western states. Oneparasite they will be researching is to determine if wolves carry and spread the parasite Neospora Caninum around. It is established that coyotes and dogs carry this damaging parasite.

I remember that about two years ago there was a report about one wolf carrying Echinococcus Granulosus in Montana.

Much more research is needed about the danger wolves bring to our environment. Some of the parasites carried by wolves are dangerous to humans.(emphasis added)

Around this same time that Will Graves posted his comments, he contacted me by email and asked if I could somehow be of assistance to him in obtaining blood samples from wolves taken during the Idaho and Montana wolf hunts. The word went out quickly and hopefullyGraves gets what he needs to help him in his research. This can become extremely valuable information for all of us.

In the meantime, Dr. Valerius Geist, professor emeritus University of Calgary and Dr. Charles Kay, of Utah State University, who holds degrees in wildlife ecology, environmental studies and wildlife biology, exchanged thoughts on the discovery of worms in Yellowstone wolves in emails I received.

Well, Charles? What else is new? What did we warn about, how we were censored as alarmists………………………
And yes, a colleague assured us that all that is not a problem for us, but for some native types. Nothing to worry about, really. Remember how, early on, we put out a warning – do not kick dry wolf feces or poke about in such looking for evidence of food habits. Do not handle wolf feces as it will disturb the tiny Echinococcus eggs that float up like little dust cloud to envelop you, and you are very likely to ingest some of that “dust”. This know-how, which we older Canadian types carried away from our parasitogy lessons was poo-hood by some American colleagues. Wolves are after all, harmless! Remember the question we posed: is it really such a great idea completing ecosystems when the progression is herbivores, carnivores, finally diseases and parasites?

It is not my intention nor that of Drs. Geist and Kay to attempt to instill unnecessary fear in people but to educate, as it was back in the day before wolf reintroduction. There are very important lessons and warnings that all should heed and take into consideration when in the woods or maybe even in your own back yard.

Dr. Geist emailed me the other day and asked me if I would be kind enough to post this information so that anyone and everyone will be aware of the potential for some very serious health issues.

Urgent: could you make a point of it that now, that we know that the majority of wolves are infected with Echinococcus, that all hunters control their curiosity and not poke about in wolf or coyote feces to find out what these predators ate. these feces are saturated with tiny, lightweight Echinococcus eggs that rise like dust plume from the disturbed feces and envelop the poking hunter. If the air-born eggs are ingested, the an infection is possible, and having Echinococcus cysts grow inside oneself is not a desirable condition. Trust me!

He followed that up with more information about the dangers.

As to the pathogenicity of Echinococcus granulosus: Yes, I noticed that Foayt, leaning on Raup’s research in Alaska, toned down the dangers from this northern form. My understanding based on what we learned from an old, experienced parasitologist at the University of British Columbia is that it’s nothing to fool around with. It’s serious! In my career as a biologist in touch with the north, I have heard nothing else. I have not, however, done a recent literature search. Foayte’s assessment may be on even though it conflicts with mine. Either way, getting an Echinococcus cyst of any kind is no laughing matter as it can grow not only on the liver or the lungs, but also in the brain. And then it’s fatal.

There is however, another much more alarming angle. Echinococcus multilocularis is a nightmare, and much more virulent than Echinococcus granulosus of any strain. We cannot encapsulate this cyst, and it grows and buds off like a cancer infecting different parts of the body incessantly. Were some of the wolves infected with multilocularis? Coyotes and foxes carry it and it has been spreading. Do canids in Idaho, Montana, etc. have it? It’s found in Alberta. Regardless, now is the time to send out an SOS to ALL outdoor users. Hold your curiosity in check, do not poke into the feces of wolves, coyotes and foxes. If you do you will release clouds of Echinococcus eggs which will envelop you, and you may ingest the eggs, bring the eggs home and endanger your family. This is nothing new to me and I have lived with this constraint on my curiosity for over 40 years. This is just a know how that maintains your personal and your family’s safety. Also, never feed uncooked offal to your dog as it may become infected with Echinococcus and infect you and your family. Echinococcus cysts love to be in lung and liver, and if consumed by dogs you have a health hazard on your hands. And such cysts now grow in deer and elk where you live. Somebody should take a second look searching out Echinococcus multilocularis.

You and I probably have no idea in the world whether these worms exist in the woods we hunt, trap, hike, etc. but good advice given by Dr. Geist should tell us it’s not something we should mess around with. Squelch the curiosity to dig in the poop and just assume there could be hidden danger.

I want to take a moment to thank Will Graves, Dr. Val Geist and Dr. Charles Kay for caring enough about the rest of us to be willing to share their findings and experiences.

Whether hunting public or privateland, the fundamentals of calling elk remain the same.

By Michael Waddell

We heard the bull bugle at first light and snuck into his core area. When I hit a lick on my bugle, the bull simply came unglued and stormed our position like a tank, crashing through brush and small lodgepole pines like they were atchsticks. Before we could react he was in our lap and we were pinned down, myself hiding behind a camera, too afraid to even touch the tripod for fear of my shaking hands would run the footage. All I could see of my partner edged against a stunted pine was the tip of his undrawn arrow shaking uncontrollably on the rest. Before a shot presented itself, the bull smelled a  rat and disappeared as quickly as he arrived.

While this experience didn’t result in a dead elk, it did hopelessly addict me to calling them. It seems that in all walks of life, be it the animal kingdom or humans, communication is a key ingredient for all social interaction. However not all living things communicate to the same degree. If you ask my wife, I am sure she will tell you I lack in the communication department, in fact I am sure she believes I don’t listen to her at all, but when it comes to communicating with animals I can barely shut up. Of all the animals I love to communicate with elk rate right at the top. By nature elk are very vocal. The uninitiated often simply think of bulls bugling, but cows, calves and bulls make all sorts of noises year around. If you encounter a larger herd of elk while you might not hear a thing from a distance, if you get close you will hear lots of subtle vocalization. Most of the time these are sounds of contentment, but depending on what’s happening the vocalization reflects it. Elk can convey contentment, danger, curiosity, or a cow in heat. Bulls for instance only bugle primarily in the rut, but they also communicate to establish a pecking order. After spending a considerable amount of time chasing the mighty wapiti, I’m convinced every elk in the herd knows each other by sound alone. This happens with the cows as well as the bulls and based on my evaluation somewhere in this mix is the deadly secret to calling elk archery-close.

Imitation Is The Sincerest Form Of Flattery

It seems that the more vocal a herd the better the odds are for success at calling them. Some cows call subtle, while others are loud-mouth ladies actively looking for a date. By listening it gives you a better opportunity to imitate the particular tones and intensity of the herd. By calling we are automatically intruding into the social club without an invitation. The closer we can sound to a known elk, and match that intensity the better the odds are of filling a tag. Even though we may sound like an outsider to the herd, luckily for us, love crazed bulls are not looking to be intimate with just one or two cows they are looking for all the love of every cow in the world, so taking advantage of their sexual frustrations and promiscuity is what we aim to do. It doesn’t take a world champion elk caller to trick bulls within range. By simply paying attention to the herd and understanding simple elk rhythm, tone and more important volume when calling, a hunter can depend on an elk call to be a valuable asset to dulling broadheads.

Public Versus Private Land

Since I started hunting elk 16 years ago, on private as well as public ground, I have realize that comparing these two different types of ground are like comparing night and day and it is all about the amount of pressure each receives. Generally speaking private ground bulls are way easier to call than public ground animals, but this is not always the case. Some private land does get a lot of pressure, which can make for some pretty tough calling duels with elk that can serve you up a humble pie every time you bust out a call. While conversely some public land either through sheer remoteness or hard-to-get tags is like calling the best private land in the nation. Hunting un-touched land and cow calling to bulls that have never heard a Hoochie Mamma would obviously be nice and it wouldn’t take long working over these uneducated elk to start feeling like an elk calling pro only to be deflated the first time we went to the national forest and mixed it up with bulls so well-known by local hunters that they have knick names. However, regardless of where you hunt the basics of calling remain the same. Start with mastering the cow call and all its various inflections. Your basic reed type calls are the easiest to learn as well as get proficient with. You will find two kinds; both are bite down reed-type of calls, one being enclosed and the other having an open reed or reeds. These calls make a very realistic sound and before your wife can run you out of the house you will master the basics.  I rely heavily on the cow call and think most of the time hunters are better off sticking with it over a bugle no matter where he is hunting. But learning how to make a basic bugle is important, especially for locating bulls at a distance before getting close and working him with your cow call. In addition, sometimes it is the bugle that finally provokes a dominant bull to commit, especially during the early season when bulls are still sorting out their peckin’ order.

Earning Your Public Ground PhD

Lets face it, unless you have deep pockets much of the private ground in the West is pretty much off limits, so you have to learn to hunt public land. This is not a bad thing as public ground comprises millions upon millions of acres across the West and happens to have some of the biggest bulls found anywhere. While it can be tougher than private, once you learn how to hunt it you won’t be disappointed. Over the years, one of my favorite places to hunt is the Gila National Forest, in New Mexico, and even though this is a trophy area tags are fairly obtainable through application. In the Gila, the trophy potential is off the chart, sporting some of the biggest bulls in the country, but just because the big ones live there doesn’t mean thatyou automatically make one call and they come running to get in the back of your truck. These mature jokers have a PhD in avoiding hunters. Over the last six years I have hunted this area religiously and have had the opportunity to shoot some nice bulls all by using elk calls as an aid to close the coffin. Notice I said, “as an aid”, meaning the call was just one thing in a bag of tricks to help smoke these monarchs. My biggest bull that came out of the Gila was a 378 P&Y bull that had earned the name Professor because he always seemed to take you to school when you applied too much pressure. However, this bull was vocal and would bugle his butt off. He also seemed to be fairly easy to find, not only by his gnarly, raspy bugle that set him apart, but frequently he could be found early in the morning in a large meadow just south of a particular water hole that always attracted a large herd. The Professor was not the only bull in the area that had large headgear, but it was The Professor that seemed to call the shots. I had caught this bull in the open several times, but calling seemed to really make him uneasy when you were in close. The Professor however would bugle hard to distant cow calls and seem to be whole heartedly interested, but had a sixth sense when you moved in for the attack. Final we decided to have a caller stay behind as we worked him coming off the meadow at daybreak. By doing this we could keep him interested and bugling as we stalked in closer. The caller always was no closer than 80 yards behind me. While the caller kept him occupied, I slid within 50 yards and gave him a G5 Tekan right behind the shoulder. This hunt was really a stalk, but the call and caller had a big part to do with his demise. Once we started quartering the bull up, we found a piece of an old arrow lodged just below the backstraps, so obviously someone had him in close before and gave the Prof and education, which explained why he was so wary.

The Double Team

As this old bull showed, hunting with a partner can work extremely well. It not only puts the hunter out in front of the call, but it gives the hunter a chance to move and adjust the angle based on where the bull might be approaching. Likewise, the caller has the flexibility to move as well and apply a lot of different calling techniques. The double team plan worked again on another hunt. It had been hot and the bulls were only bugling early and late. As soon as the sun would rise the elk woods would turn in to a ghost town.
Just after daybreak on the fourth day of our hunt we heard this bull bugle. He hit it only two times, both very weak and he sounded like the littlest rag horn in the land but with no other game in town we went after him. Getting as close as possible to where we thought the bugle came from I eased up and sat down by a pine stump while my buddy moved back and to my right about 40 yards. Neither of us were very optimistic about our chances. My buddy made one or maybe two very soft cow calls on a two reed diaphragm then he started raking a tree and rolled a few rocks. We sat there for possibly 10 minutes in silence, then out of nowhere appeared a wide 340 inch 6 x 6 coming directly to us, at 25 yards the bull let out a soft chuckle, looked over his surrounding and kept walking in the direction of where the last rock had been rolled, which led him 16 steps from my pine stump. By now I was at full draw waiting for a broadside shot. When the arrow left my bow, I knew we had killed a call shy monster by keeping it low key and staying patient. Needless to say, I was never convinced by the two times he had bugled earlier that he was a shooter. This was a lesson in itself. Never judge a bugle until you can see what is making the sound.
The most exciting way to bag a bull elk is to get him in close, and the best way to do that is with a call. Confidence in your call is critical, because if you’re insecure about using your call there is a good chance you will spook elk. Have confidence in your calling ability and become just another elk in the herd where you are hunting. Find a call that works for you and not what works for some else. Think like an elk and do as elk do. Realism, rhythm, and volume control can make the difference between bringin’ them in or running them over the next ridge. And remember its not always about calling, it can be just patiently listening to the sounds around you and applying minimal calls, while practicing good woodsmenship, and stalking skills that could help you put that monster on the back of the truck.

By Michael Waddell

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Each call comes complete with an instructional dvd, a surface saver cover, two strikers and a surface conditioning kit. There are two surface choices, crystal and anodized aluminum. Either one will be devastating on gobblers in your neck of the woods this spring.

Scott Ellis

Reprinted by permission from the author:

Valerius Geist, 2008. Commentary. The Danger of Wolves. Wildlife Professional Vol 2, No. 4 pp. 34-35. Winter 2008 edition.

E-mail: kendulf@shaw.ca;

February 14th 2008

Below is the original manuscript. Note the end-notes!

Who and What killed Kenton Carnegie?

Valerius Geist, Professor Emeritus of Environmental Science, The University of Calgary
Calgary, Canada.

On November 1st 2007 a six-member coroner’s jury in Saskatchewan ruled that wolves killed Kenton Carnegie, a 22-year-old 3rd year honors and scholarship student in the Co-op program in Geological-Engineering at the University of Waterloo. He was killed on November 8th 2005 at Points North Landing near Wollstone Lake in northern Saskatchewan. Though he was the best-investigated human victim of wolf predation in North America in the past century , there have been other victims such as five-year-old Marc Leblond, killed Sept. 24, 1963 north of Baie-Comeau, Quebec , and more according to native people. It is they who pointed out in conversation that wolves “eat the evidence” and also disperse it, making detection and confirmation of cause of death very difficult. In addition there have been a number of attacks on people in Canada and Alaska in recent years , and more are expected as wolves become more numerous and disperse after decades of control.

Victims of wildlife tragedies in North America tend to be blamed for the event , and it was not different in Kenton’s case. It greatly upset Kenton’s family, as did the whitewash of wolves that could only mislead the judiciary and the public . They thus asked two (Correction: three!) scientists to look independently into the matter. One was Alaska biologist Mark McNay, the other was Brent Patterson of Ontario, the other was myself. At the coroners inquest only one expert witness was allowed to testify on behalf of the Carnegies and the court chose Mark McNay. His presentation was effective!

The Kenton Carnegie case is significant as it points to deficits in scholarship pertaining to wolf/human interactions, and consequently to flawed assumptions underlying wolf conservation legislation her and in Europe. As alluded to above, a sideshow to be noted in passing is an attempt to blame black bears for Kenton Carnegie’s death . However, this assertion failed to survive scrutiny by peers and by the court. Nevertheless, it was reported in important popular outlets and remains uncorrected in such, thereby still misinforming the public . There is a danger of a parallel to Farley Movat’s book “Never Cry Wolf” which was quickly exposed as erroneous by Canadian scientists, but whose informed voices were ignored by the public and the literati, which even now accepts that book on face value .

The coroner’s inquest in Saskatchewan, however, only answered the narrow question of who killed Kenton Carnegie. To this the answer is: wolves. Change the question to what killed Kenton Carnegie and the answer is: the belief that wolves are harmless and do not kill people. Yet, I must confess that I too embraced a similar view during my career and well into retirement, having been taught such even in graduate school, and reinforced by years of experience with painfully shy wilderness wolves. However, a misbehaving pack on Vancouver Island, and a review of historical matters, taught me otherwise . The myth of harmless wolves is a well-established modern dogma. It is deadly! Belief in this myth has killed at least three persons in North America alone in the last decade, two of which were bright, educated young people.

Nobody at Points North Landing noticed that the wolves involved were not merely habituating, but were targeting people as prey . Wolves do this in the very same manner as coyotes in urban parks when targeting children . Both canids explore humans very cautiously and over a protracted time period before mounting the first, exploratory attack. This two wolves had done four days prior to Kenton’s death. They attacked a bush pilot and a geophysicist outside the camp, but the two young men beat back the wolves and photographed them. While the behavior of wolves signaled at Points North Landing a disaster waiting to happen, nobody recognized it as such even after the failed wolf attack. The belief in the harmlessness of wolves was firmly entrenched.

Ironically, while coyote biologists recognized that the smaller coyote will target people as prey, wolf biologists were denying that wolves were a danger to people. A wolf biologist in the service of the Saskatchewan coroner likewise failed to recognize that wolves, habituated to camp garbage delivery, were also targeting people .

How could one uphold the view that wolves are harmless to people, despite centuries of recorded experience to the contrary in Russia , Finland , Scandinavia, Germany , India , Afghanistan , Korea , central Asia, Turkey , Iran , France or Greenland ? In the first instance, the overwhelming experience in North America is that wolves are very shy, difficult to see creatures that avoid people. The causes of such were normally not investigated, although some authors pointed to the facts that wolves were very much prosecuted and thus rare in 20th century North America, and that North Americans are usually armed and quickly eliminated troublesome wolves. Moreover, the killing of wolves in rural settings is not newsworthy, as I can attest to from personal experience . It is thus very difficult from North American accounts to decipher the conditions when wolves are dangerous to people and when they are not.

What about Eurasian wolves? Are they different, and is their behavior thus irrelevant to an understanding of North American wolves? Or are the accounts of wolf attacks on people exaggerated and untrustworthy, and the Little Red Riding Hood fairytale by the brothers Grimm based on misunderstanding, ignorance and exaggerated fears? A respected Canadian biologist, Dr. C. H. Doug Clarke, decided to investigate . He concluded that the killing of people by wolves in Europe was real, but that rabid wolves caused all the attacks. In exonerating healthy wolves, Clarke fell back on his experience with shy Canadian continental wilderness wolves, an experience much as my own and shared by others. One can trace the origin of the “harmless wolf myth” to him . And yet Clark erred! He failed to notice the distinction in behavior between attacks by rabid and by non-rabid wolves. There are differences!

Historically, the most frightening aspect of being bitten by a rabid wolf was the certain death of the victim from rabies. In modern times quick medical intervention can save the victim. Rabid wolves, so it was noted historically, attacked swiftly with great ferocity, bit multiple victims as well as livestock and non-animate objects, and aimed their bite at the face and head of the victim. Consequently, any survivor of a wolf attack could not have been bitten by a rabid wolf. Secondly, rabid wolves do not stalk, sneak or hunt, nor complete an attack, nor drag the victim away for consumption. Yet some victims were saved just in time after having been attacked, subdued and dragged away by wolves. Therefore, these were attacks by non-rabid wolves. Such occurred with sufficient frequency that a pattern of selectivity emerged: in predatory attacks, wolves targeted primarily children . Rabid wolves made no such choice . Also, adults could escape most attacks by single wolves, but never that of a pack.

The second problem is that accounts of wolf attacks are, of course, not scientific data. They are usually reports by witnesses as recorded second hand by the police, priests, doctors and county clerks. As there were few literate persons about in past centuries many attacks must not have been reported. The records are most subjective. There is suspicion that some reports, especially in newspapers, may have been padded or are somehow not trustworthy. Whether it is so is not for scientists to decide, but for historians! Records of predation on humans require the expertise of historian scholarship to locate, verify, clarify and place into perspective. What scientist can do subsequently is to winnow such reports for patterns and trends that relate to what happens to be known about wolf biology. And our modern understanding of wolf biology has been and is changing.

However, North American wolf biologists did not seek the assistance of historians. They also faced language and cultural barriers, and were prematurely enthralled by early insights based on young captive wolves. They also had an abiding respect for Clarke’s sterling authority. Consequently, they did not investigate foreign historical material systematically. Had they done so, they would hardly have concluded that the fairytale of Little Red Riding Hood was based on ignorance, misunderstanding, malice or an exaggerated fear of wolves! Where wolves are de-facto protected by an unarmed populace, where the prey base is diminished and livestock is not abundant, wolves focus on humans – then as now – with frightening consequences. No sovereign would expend the high costs, accept the losses in economic activity or the meager results of wolf control in centuries past were it not for telling reasons .

To the above one must add two factors, the first being: the global impact of a very popular book by a famous Canadian author, Farley Mowat, depicting wolves as harmless, lovable mouse eaters. While Canadian biologists did not fall for this prank , the literati did and are still falling for it. Secondly, this book was most welcome to the Communist Party in Russia, which had systematically suppressed information about man-killing wolves since 1917, but especially during and after World War Two, in order to forestall the call for arms by the populace. So western environmentalists and eastern communists shouted with one voice praising the harmlessness of wolves. The Russian scientist Mikhail P. Pavlov disclosed the matter in a book on wolves after the fall of Communism . His work, upon translation into Norwegian, was denounced with furor leading to the responsible ministry destroying the translation. It was subsequently published in Swedish . An English translation lingered unpublished, as nobody wanted to touch it. It has recently been published .

The historical and current evidence indicates that one can live with wolves where such are severely limited in numbers on an ongoing basis, so that there is continually a buffer of wild prey and livestock between wolves and humans, with an ongoing removal of all wolves habituating to people. The current notion that wolves can be made to co-exist with people in settled landscapes (in multi-use landscapes surrounding houses, farms, villages and cities) is not tenable. Under such conditions wolves becoming territorial will confront people when such walk dogs or approach wolf-killed livestock. In addition even well fed habituated wolves will test people by approaching such, initially nipping at their clothing and licking exposed skin, before mounting a clumsy first attack that may leave victims alive but injured, followed by serious attacks. While a healthy man can fight off a lone wolf with some chances of success, a lone person cannot defeat a pack. And such killed Kenton Carnegie.

1 Kenton Carnegie’s death was investigated on location on November 8th and 9th 2005 by by Constable Alphonse Noey of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, with Rosalie Tsannie-Burseth, coroner at Wollaston Lake, with witness statements by Chris Van Galder, Todd Svarchpf, Mark Eikel, and Robert Dennis (Bob) Burseth, as well as forensic investigations. A second investigation on location was carried out by Kelly Crayne and Mario Gaudet, Saskatchewan Conservation Officers on November 10th 2005. The case was reviewed for the chief coroner of Saskatchewan in a confidential report by Drs. Paul C. Paquet and Ernst G. Walker, August 6th 2006. The case was reviewed for Kim and Lori Carnegie, parents of deceased Kenton, by Mark E. McNay who produced a report and testified at the coroner’s inquest. A second scientist asked to investigate the case was Valerius Geist who submitted a two-part report, but was precluded from testifying at the coroner’s hearing. (Correction: A third scientist was Brent Patterson. We three came to similar views). All these reports plus a time line of the tragedy and a critique of Paul Paquet’s position are accessible …….??????(How do we make them accessible???).

2 Gerard McNebel, Noember 18th, 1963, Winnipeg Free Press, p. 12.
3 Mark E. McNay 2002. Wolf-human interactions in Alaska and Canada: review of the case history. Wildlife Society Bulletin 30(3):831-843. Mark E. McNay 2002 A case history of wolf-human encounters in Alaska and Canada. Alaska Dept. of Fish and Game, Wildlife Technical Bulletin 13). J. Beatty. 2000. Vargas Island wolves too used to human contact, observer says. The Vancouver Sun, July 5th, pp. A1-2. Dan Kerslake and Dan Zakreski 2006, reported on the attack on Fred Desjarlais in Saskatchewan, CBC News Online, March 7th 2006. There was a wolf attack in Alaska on Becky Wanamaker on 7 July 2006. See Katie Pesznecker, Anchorage Daily News, July 13th, 2006. September 6th 2006 a lone wolf attacked and wounded six people, four of which were children, in a provincial park near Sault Ste. Marie, Ontariao, The Hamilton Spectator, Sept 7th 2006. Larry Pynn. 2007. Port Moody kayaker fights off starving, predatory wolf. Vancouver Sun. August 1.
4 James Gary Shelton 1998 Bear Attacks. Pogany Productions, Hagensborg, BC. Shelton makes a point of how viciously victims of predatory attacks have been pursued and maligned in Canada and the US by enumerating such in some detail.
5 pp. 29-30 of National Wildlife, February/March 2007 edition in an article entitled “Sexy Beasts”. by Paul Tolmé. Also a video produced by the National Geographic Society, whose misrepresentations upset the coroner Rosalie Tsanni-Burseth, as well as Kenton Carnegie’s parents
6 Paquet, Paul C. and Ernst G. Walker 2006. Review of Investigative Findings Relating to the Death of Kenton Carnegie At Points North, Saskatchewan. Office of Chief Coroner, Saskatchewan Justice, #920, 1801 Hamilton Street, Regina, Saskatchewan. S4P 4B4, Canada.
7 Paul Tolmé, ibid. & National Geographic. Ibid.
8 Banfield, A. W. F. 1964. Review of F. Mowat’s Never Cry Wolf. Canadian Field Naturalist. 78:52-54; Pimlott, D. H. 1966. Review of F. Mowat’s Never Cry Wolf. J. Wildlife Management. 30:236-237.
9 Geist, V. 2003. Vancouver Island wolves. The Virginia Wildlifer, June 2003, pp. 35-39.
10 Geist, V. Sept. 29th 2007 When do wolves become dangerous to humans? & statement by Valerius Geist pertaining to the death of Kenton Carnegie…(website???)
11 Baker, R. O. and R. M. Timm 1998. Management of conflict between urban coyotes and humans in southern California. Pp. 229-312 in R. O. Baker and A. c. Crabb eds. Proc. 18th Vertebrate Pest Conference, University of California, Davis
12 Paquet and Walker 2006 ibid.
13 See Will N. Graves 2007(edited by V. Geist) Wolves in Russia, Detselig, Calgary. Mikhail P. Pavlov, 1982. “The Wolf in Game Management”, 2nd edition 1990; Publisher: Agropromizdat, Moscow.
14 The historian Dr. Antti Lappalainen (opetusneuvos.lappalainen@kolumbus.fi, +35895416946) published his research findings on lethal wolf attacks on humans in Finland under the title “Suden jäljet”, The Tracks of the Wolf, ISBN 952-5118-79-7. Capstick, 1981. Maneaters, Safari Press, Ca. pp. 108-114.
15 Hans Friedrich von Flemming. 1749. Der Vollkommene Teutsche Jäger, Leipzig. P. 108. Brehms Tierleben, p. 137 in my condensed ed. 1952, Safari Verlag, Berlin. D. Müller-Using, M. Wolf and E. Klinghammer 1975 p. 203 in Grzimek’s Animal Encyclopedia, Vol. 12 Mammals III, Van Nostrand Reinhold Co. New York.
16 Jahala and Sharma 1997 Child-lifting by wolves in Eastern Uttar Pradesh, India. J. Wildlife Research 292:94-101). Jahal 2003 Status, Ecology and conservation of the Indian wolf Canis lupus pallipes Sykes J. Bombay Natural History Society 100 (2&3) Aug.- Dec. pp. 293-307). See also Rajpurohit, K. S. 1999. Child Lifting: wolves in Hazaribagh, India. AMBIO 28(2), 162-166.
17 Roy Stewart (2004) In his book about travels in Afghanistan “The Places in Between” ( p. 123, Harcourt Books). On the Internet newkerala.com Kabul 18 Feb 2005, It was reported that hungry wolves were driven by freezing cold in the mountains to invade Afghanistan’s villages and have killed and devoured four people in the last two weeks. This was reported by the official Bakhter News Agency (BNA). Heavy snowfall is driving wolves from the mountains toward villages and in addition to four people being killed by wolves 22 have been bitten in Paktia Province which borders Pakistan.
18 The Korean experience is summarized by Robert Neff in Devils in the Darkness, 2007/05/23, copyright 2007 Ohmy News. http://english.ohmynews.com/articleview/article_view.asp?menu=c10400&no=362934&rel_no=1&isPrint=print
19 Also on the internet on timberwolfinformation.org/info/archieve/newspapers on 2/27/05 from Ankara Turkey it was reported that a ten year old boy named Onur Bahar was killed by a wolf in a field near his house on the outskirts of Talas. The wolf went for the boy’s throat and torn his left arm off.
20 An Iranian colleague reported that in rural areas of Iran villagers were disarmed and lived in great fear of wolves. Possession of weapons during the Shah’s regime was severely punished by the secret police.
21 (French) Moriceau, Jean-Marc (2007). Histoire du méchant loup : 3 000 attaques sur l’homme en France. pp. p.623. ISBN 2213628807. (added subsequently!)
22 Freuchen, P. 1935. Arctic Adventure. Farrah & Rinehart, New York. Peter Freuchen lost a companion to wolves (p. 23, pp. 329, 332) , shot a wolf stalking his children (pp. 347-348), had harrowing experiences with wolves trying to enter his cabin (pp. 16-19). His writings support an observation made to me by a long time resident and hunter in Greenland: where there are wolves, there are no people and vice versa!
23 A report by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation of responses by the listening public to their airing of the Kenton Carnegie case. Here is a sample of cases of Wolf/Human interactions that were never aired by the Canadian new media. http://www.cbc.ca/sask/features/wolves/3.html CBC Sakatchewan copied July 2nd 2006.
24 The view of “harmless wolves” was first popularized in Lenin’s and Stalin’s Communist Russia apparently to justify keeping the rural population disarmed (see Pavlov 1982). It was subsequently developed independently in North America, and it is the North American version, which was transplanted later to Europe, becoming a dogma in the process.
25 In an unpublished paper entitled “The Beast of Gévaudan” Dr. Clarke concluded: “Down the long list of recorded attacks by wolves it becomes clear that the Russian baron in his troika is folklore, but the rabid wolf is grim fact. The pattern is universal. The famous wolves of medieval song and story were all rabid”. P. 26 of Russell J. Rutter and Douglas h. Pimlott 1968 The World of the Wolf. Lippincott C. New York.
26 (French) Moriceau, Jean-Marc (2007). Histoire du méchant loup : 3 000 attaques sur l’homme en France. pp. p.623. ISBN 2213628807. (added subsequently)
27 For an account of how rabid wolves act see Chapter 6, Wolf Attacks on Humans by Will Graves (2007) (edited by V. Geist) Wolves in Russia, Detselig, Calgary. Pp 87-103.
28 Hans Friedrich von Flemming in 1749. Der Vollkommene Teutsche Jäger, Leipzig.
29 Banfield 1964. ibid; Pimlot 1966 ibid. See also John Goddard 1996 A real whopper (cover story). Saturday Night, May issue Vol 111 Issue No. 4, p46, 8p, 3bw.
30 Pavlov, Mikhail P. The Wolf in Game Management;; Date of Publication: First edition 1982, 2nd edition 1990; Publisher: Agropromizdat, Moscow; Chapter 12, “The Danger of Wolves to Humans” (pp 136-169); Translated from Russian by Valentina and Leonid Baskin, and Patrick Valkenburg. Edited by wildlife biologists Patrick Valkenburg and Mark McNay. Dr. Leonid Baskin is a well-known Russian zoologist with whom I have worked and co-published in the past. Appendix A. Pavlov’s chapter in Will N. Graves 2007. ibid..
31 Elis Pålsson 2003 Vargens Näringssök och Människan. ISBN 91-631-3651-1, Älmhult.
32 See Appendix A in Graves 2007. ibid.
33 C. D. C. Linnell et al. 2002 The Fear of Wolves, Norse Institutt for Naturforskning. NINA
Oppdragsmelding 731, Trondheim, Norway.

Posted by Tom Remington

© Copyrighted

“Are you gonna make it?” my guide whispered in my right ear. I didn’t even make an effort to turn toward him, but just gave a slight nod of my head in response. I snickered to myself’ “Are you gonna make it?” he asks. Hmph, I thought! a fine time to ask me that seemingly senseless question now.

We were almost to the trailhead, and it didn’t matter that I was gulping air as if it were some type of coolant that could soothe the fire in my lungs or that my body felt like rubber from running across the face of this hell that he called a mountain. At that moment I couldn’t have held still for a steady shot if my life depended on it. And to top it off, we were up at a minimum of 10,000 feet in elevation; but it was probably closer to 11,000.

Now to some of you I am sure that 10,000 or 11,000 feet doesn’t seem like much. But it is a bit much for a flatlander whose usual habitat is 50 feet above sea level, even if he has exercised for six months prior to the hunt. (One thing I had learned on this hunt is that you are never fully prepared, no matter how much you exercise. Not when you go from 50 feet above sea level to 10,000 above sea level.)

“What”, some of you ask, “hunting Angora goats in the Rocky Mountains? Isn’t that what we used to have on the ranch when I was a kid?” Well, yes it is in one sense, but in another sense, it also isn’t. Let me back up a bit and explain how I got to be in this peculiar predicament.

During the summer of 1993 I received a call from an outfitter friend of mine inviting me to come hunt elk and mule deer with him on a Colorado ranch which he was considering purchasing. If things worked out, then he would be adding this ranch to his list of ranches that he has to offer his clients. Knowing how much I love to hunt, it didn’t really take very much to twist my arm into adding another hunting trip into my busy fall schedule. The ranch is located in the Grand Mesa region near Colbran, Colorado.

The area of the Grand Mesa’s northern slope, where we would be spending 10 days trying to find a good bull elk, is called Storm King Mountain. Even though most of the lower slopes of the mountain and the top of the mesa have fairly good roads, you must still do a lot of walking if you want to find the best game. During my stay not only would we use four wheel drive trucks and horses to get around over most of the mountain’s side in our hunting area, we would also use a lot of foot power to make our way through the aspen groves and oak brush.

The topography for this region is typical of that found in mountainous areas in that part of the country. The lower slopes have tall prairie grasses, conifers, aspens and oak brush while on top of most of the ridgelines you only had the clinging oak brush that is about knee high. This brush is so thick in some places that you have to detour around it, which adds to your time allotted for walking from place to place. Several times this thick brush made stalks, on unsuspecting game, impractical. On top of the mesa are stands of conifers and aspen mixed in with smaller oaks. Up here the oak brush doesn’t seem to be as thick, so walking is easier and quieter.

I first spotted the tiny white dots on the higher slopes of Storm King while we were chasing the illusive elk bull that we just couldn’t seem to find. When we stopped to rest in our search, I asked my guide what they white spots were, I thought that they might have been mountain goats but I wasn’t sure as I didn’t think that there were any of these high country dwellers this far south. He informed me that they were feral Angora goats and that the part of the ranch that we were now on was part of the previous owner’s exotic hunting park. He had stocked these goats and other animals here to be hunted, much like the exotic game ranches do in Texas.

It was perfect terrain for goats, steep, heavily covered in the ever-present clinging oak brush and rocky to the extent that the footing was iffy at best. My guide went on to inform me that like most animals, for example feral hogs, once these domesticated animals were turned loose, they reverted back to a totally wild state. I was intrigued, but we were after elk, so I forgot about them for the time being.

It wasn’t until we were enjoying a liquid beverage on the front porch of the ranch’s lodge later that evening in celebration of the good bull elk that I had taken earlier in the day, when these wandering rock climbers came back to my attention. I glanced up at the ridgeline over looking the valley in which the ranch headquarters is located and in the setting sun I saw those elusive tiny white dots once again. After I called everyone else’s attention to them, we dove into a discussion concerning these wary little animals.

My guide informed us that hunting them wouldn’t be that much different than hunting a true mountain goat. They liked the high, rocky and inaccessible places near the summit of the mountains and ridgelines of the surrounding country. Being hardy little creatures, they can withstand the ice and snow that hits the high country with the onset of a full blown rocky mountain winter. Consequently, with the help of their thick winter fur coats, there is very little winter die off among these animals. At this point the conversation took a turn toward the usual friendly banter that is found in hunting camps around the globe and I couldn’t resist my guide’s proposition that we once again mount the slopes of Storm King in pursuit of another of the area’s challenging wild inhabitants.

To make the event even more challenging I decided to use my in-line action muzzleloading rifle in .50 caliber which I had topped off with a compact riflescope. Along with some Buffalo Bullets and Pyrodex RS, I knew that if given the chance, this compact little rifle could be counted on to make a clean kill on one of these high country loving goats.

Now before we start our tale of the hunt, let me give you a little background on these feisty little white goats. The angoras belong to the conic horned game category. A trophy-sized billy, as recognized by the Trophy Game Records of the World, will have wide flaring triangular horns with a slight curl in excess of 30 inches, with a basal measurement of 8-9 inches and a spread of 30 plus inches from tip to tip. A mature billy will weigh from 75 to 100 pounds and stand around 25 to 26 inches at the front shoulder. The nannies will have about the same height, but usually weight 5-15 pounds lighter. The wool of both the billy and the nanny will be coarse and somewhat curly with a length of 1 1/2 to 3 1/2 inches. The coloration of an angora is usually snowy white, though other coloration variants have been noted from time to time. The last major physical characteristic of a billy is the long thick beard coming off of the lower jaw and hanging down 8-11 inches. The hide quality is very good with thick curly hair, while the meat quality of a mature billy is quite poor. Now on with the hunt!

Before light the next morning, we saddled our horses and started up the steep mountain trail once again. The light snow of the previous day had turned the trail into a quagmire of mud and mush and I wasn’t looking forward to hiking around the mountain in this muck when we tied off the horses to the brush later. I was hoping that my boots with their hard rubber knobby sole would hold out as well as they had during the dry part of the hunt.

Most of the morning was spent hiking across the face of the mountain, as our little “walk” took us through aspen groves, brush covered slopes, mountain meadows, rock slides and around frozen beaver ponds. But as usual, these animals were in the most inaccessible place on the mountain’s face. The area in which we eventually found them was almost all rockslides and small trails in the loose talus that over looked drop-offs of several hundred feet. It wasn’t my choice of an ideal place to hunt, especially since my hunt for elk had taken place on the gentler slopes of the mountain.

As we carefully choose each spot in which we put our feet while traversing a rockslide, my guide commented that several of these small white dots were only about a mile and a half away and 600 or so feet above us, up the rock slide. He asked me if I were up to the climb. After glassing them through his binoculars, he felt that two of the billys might have trophy potential and be worth a closer look. So after discussing our approach route, we decided to attempt a stalk. But to do so meant that we had to descend back into the aspens so that our approach wouldn’t be seen.

We were able to close the distance to about half a mile before our cover played out. Then after carefully glassing the goats again, we confirmed that one of the goats was definitely worth a trip up the mountain. My guide thought that he might even be in the top 10 of all angoras taken with a muzzleloading firearm, as per the records maintained by the record keeping system, Trophy Game Records of the World.

Upon glassing the surrounding terrain, we decided that I could approach to within 200 yards of him by doing a duck walk and belly crawl up a small ravine that ran next to the ridgeline that he was on. After my crawl, I would have to ease out on to a trail that we could see running up through the rock slide, as it made its way in his general direction. If I was careful, I should be able to sneak close enough to get a shot at him. This is also provided that none of the other goats in his area gave the alarm which would cause the whole group to go racing off across the steep face of the mountain and that I didn’t misplace a step which would result in me sliding down the mountainside with all of the other rocks and clods of dirt.

As I mentioned earlier, we had been racing against time and had literally run across the last mile or so of our stalk through the trees to get to our lookout position as the horses had been left behind earlier. So, when my legs and arms quit shaking and I could breath without trying to inhale the clouds, I eased into the gully to start my slow climb, after securing my rifle and shooting bag to my back with a couple of leather thongs.

The crawl up the ravine was not a major obstacle it was just time consuming. However, once I reached the trail that ran out across the face of the rockslide, I realized that we had made a bad error in judgment. What had appeared to be a trail from down below, turned out to be a thin, 2 1/2 foot wide, ledge that followed the contours of the face of the rock slide. As I slowly stood up, behind a large boulder, it also became apparent that the goats could not see me here. I glanced down at my guide and by prearranged signals he was indicating that the goats were still in the general vicinity of where we had seen them earlier.

I looked out at the trail and decided, “What the heck. I had come this far to get a goat and can’t stop now.” So I checked to make sure that my rifle and shooting bag were still secured to my back and then I eased out onto the trail.

I was able to control my forward motion by using my left hand to hang onto the roots and limbs that protruded through the rockslide. I only looked down the rockslide once and that was all it took to convince me that I didn’t want to do that again. It appeared that I was several hundred feet up and that it would be a long drop or roll down the face of the slide. I definitely didn’t want to slip and end up on the rocks below so I slowed my progress down in order to carefully place my feet on firmer footing while trying to locate the goats before they either saw or heard me.

I had made it about 150 yards out onto the trail and so far so good. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw a white rock roll across the face of the rockslide. But wait that isn’t a white rock, it’s a goat, and it’s coming my way. I froze and tried to be still as the ground on which I stood. Soon several more goats appeared in front of me as I wondered what it was that they found so attractive about the solitude of the rockslide.

At this point I had no idea how I was going to position myself in order to able to make a steady shot. The ledge wasn’t wide enough for me to turn and face the goats, in a classical freehand position, nor could I kneel to attempt a shot. I quickly turned to survey the surrounding area, trying to find a solution to my problem, and noticed a small tree about five feet in front of me. I quickly determined that its overhanging limbs could serve as both a rest and provide a little cover for me to hide behind, so I eased slowly forward hoping that my actions wouldn’t be seen by the sharp eyes of the goats coming my way.

After moving in behind the little tree, I found that I would have to lay my rifle across the fork in a limb and brace myself against the rocky wall of the ledge in order to maintain my position for a shot. It wasn’t the most comfortable spot that I have ever been in, but it would have to work. Recapping my rifle, I settled it in the crotch of the fork as I prepared to take my chances with the hand that the god’s of hunting had dealt me.

Now as I turned my attention back to the goats, I couldn’t locate the big billy that we had picked out from down below but there were several groups of nannies and kids moving across the face of the rockslide now. I saw only one small, solitary billy as I continued to scan the area of the rockslide where we had previously spotted the group of larger billys.

At first I didn’t see a sign of them and then I noticed a little gray rock that was swaying back in forth. The rock turned out to be the horns on a billy that had lain down among the rocks. Upon looking closer, I could just make out the heads of several more billys in the same area. They appeared to be about 125 yards of so away. As I continued watching the nannies and kids move slowly in my direction, I wondered if they would spook before I had a chance to take a shot at one of the mature billys.

After about 15 minutes of watching, the older billys decided that it was time to join the rest of the group. They started a slow movement down the face of the rockslide after the rest of the herd. When I was able to determine that this movement would take them across my field of fire, I knew that I still had a chance to take a good specimen. So I lowered my body into a squatting position in order to elevate the angle of my barrel and waited for my chance.

The first couple groups of nannies and kids passed by above me before the first mature billy came in to my field of fire. I let him pass by unmolested at about 50 yards. The third billy in the group looked to be the best of the bunch, so I decided to try for him. Slowly, another group of nannies and kids passed by further up the slope. This group was about 75 yards away and I had to be really still so that they wouldn’t spook. Then the second and third billys stepped over the rocks and their full bodies came into view.

As they trotted to catch up with the first billy, I knew that I couldn’t make a clean shot as I wouldn’t be able to move to keep up with them and remain undetected. Then I heard a snort or bleat behind me and I froze. It was clear that some of the goats had come up behind me and had blown my cover.

As I watched, the two billys above me also froze and seemed to be watching something on the slope behind me. It was now or never. I put the cross hairs of my compact scope on the larger billy’s shoulder and squeezed the trigger.
At my shot, a thousand things happened all at once. First, the mountainside exploded with goats and I couldn’t see the billy that I had shot because of all the smoke. Then, the sudden mad exodus of the local goat population created a minor rockslide as pebbles and stones slid down the face of the rockslide after being dislodged. I was kept busy trying to protect my firearm from the falling debris while not letting go of the root that I had grabbed as a tether with my left hand. Somehow, it wasn’t as serious as it seemed at the moment and I didn’t take a final plunge down the mountain.

After the dust and smoke cleared, I looked around for my goat, but I couldn’t find him anywhere. My heart dropped like a stone at the thought of having missed my one and only chance. When further searching from my perch proved fruitless, I decided to head back to the edge of the rockslide. Maybe, with my guide’s help I should be able to locate my billy. I knew in my heart that the shot had been good. I had even heard the ‘whomp’ of the bullet as it had found its mark. So I felt certain that it would just be a matter of some good old fashion footwork now.

As I rounded the last bend in the trail before I got back to the ravine, I heard my guide yelling something at me. I looked down in his direction and saw that he was trying to get me to look up the rockslide above me. When I turned to look I saw my billy. He was about 25 yards out upon the rockslide and about 40 yards above the end of the trail. It was a small matter to attach a rope to his horns and drag him to a safer area. It was a fitting end to a very good hunt. After all, I had taken elk, mule deer and now a wild angora goat this trip.