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Author
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Topic: Winning ways...
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Q-Wagoner
FREE TRIAL MEMBERSHIP
Member # 33
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posted January 31, 2007 11:58 PM
This post may be a new Huntmasters record. It is of course, the story about the coyote hunt I participated in earlier this season. What a ride it was. In reality it is a cross between a National Lampoons trilogy and Forest Gump goes hunting. If you have a spare 30 minutes or so you can read all about what not to do and still win a contest. LOL
Winning ways…..
It was a Saturday morning and cold. The west winds added an already frosty bite to the temperature that was hovering in the teens. The weatherman said that it was going to warm up to a sultry 25 that afternoon but the gusty winds would be approaching 30mph as the day wore on. Normally I would spend a day like that huddled around a good book or getting caught up in the fur shed but I was committed. It was contest day and with around 375 dollars invested into entry fees, Calcuttas and the “big dog” contest I was financially obligated to at least give it the old collage try.
The hunt was the Western Nebraska Coyote Classic and is a different type of hunt than most. In this contest you are allowed one partner and the hunt coordinator provides a representative to each team to ensure that the rules are strictly abided by. I prefer this format to all other types. In most of the other tournaments I have participated in the rules are generally regarded by the contestants as simply a loose set of suggestions.
Last year I elected to hunt the contest alone and chose not to take on a partner. The decision served me well. I won the day money on Saturday and Sunday as well as the overall money and Calcutta. The last coyote of the day on Saturday was a brute. He weighed in at 38lbs and some odd ounces. This coyote won me the “heavy dog” contest and a hansom pair of matching .17 HMR rifles. I did miss by a few ounces the small dog contest witch would have netted me a 50 dollar bill. Although I did deserve to win the prize ![[Smile]](smile.gif) it was just not meant to be.
Fast-forward one year and subtract 40 degrees. Again I elected to hunt with out a partner and had high expectations for this year’s competition.
Day 1.
The hunt is a day and a half event so I took in consideration the wind direction and velocity to lay out my calling line. Knowing that I needed a BIG Saturday I carefully laid out a nice calling rout through some of my very best areas.
Six twenty-ish a.m. found us patiently waiting for shooting light. Anxious to get started I kept glassing the predawn meadow below us waiting for some sign of life. Other than the scattered yearlings that gradually started to materialize there was nothing. It was about 6:30 when I spied an unfamiliar shape near a lone Russian olive tree. I strained my eye as I glared through the Leupold. At last the animal turned broadside offering a perfect silhouette against the frost covered Salt Grass. It was a coyote.
For the right wind and a clear shot I backed off the hill and circled in on the coyote from the east near a small feedlot. We worked ourselves into a shooting position along a fence and just as I brought the call up to my lips the coyote started moving our direction, quartering right to left. I slowly raised my rifle and slid it through the first and second wires of the fence and waited for the coyote to clear the heifers that were now filing there way to the north end of the field as feeding time was growing near. The coyote, now sensing the eminent arrival of people and quite possibly speeding bullets broke into a dogtrot and was starting to veer towards our grassy fence line when I broke the silence. Waaa Waaaaaa…..I screeched out with my voice and the coyote started towards me for a few yards and stopped. A second later the little 52gr bullet closed the deal and coyote #1 was on the board.
There is always a sense of relief after the first one is down but there was little time to celebrate. I quickly gathered up the kill and we moved on to the next area. My strategy in open country is to glass and spot coyotes for the first hour or so of daylight as it is usually a better bet than calling. With this in mind we moved north to an area where the rich table grounds meet the river valley breaks. The transitional ground is an ideal place to catch coyotes moving early in the mornings. The strategy worked. We were about two thirds of a mile from the pickup when a coyote broke cover some 200 yards below us. We bumped the coyote out and he was making tracks. I made a quick rush towards the coyote so I could clear some long grass when I went prone and began barking. Kerry, my rep, was supporting a brand new set of Leica Geovids so between barks I ordered, rather than ask for a range. Kerry was on the ball and just as the coyote bounced to a stop he blurted out 385!! Adjusting my hold for distance I centered up on the coyotes flank to accommodate for the 30mph winds and let fly. The coyote went into a spin and then stopped. I fired again and the coyote dropped only to get up again. A third shot rang out and the coyote started lurching away but finally shot #4 put him down but not out.
I fired two more shots in vein trying to alleviate the coyote’s now miserable condition but was unable to connect. His last surge put him just far enough over a small rise to offer me a clear shot. The coyote, now mortally wounded was not going anywhere so I picked up and went down to clean up my mess.
We made two stands before making it back to the pickup with nothing shot, called or sighted.
The next step was to hunt a large tract of land that was approximately a 4 x 8 section peace with no crossroads. I was excited to get started. With a west/northwest wind I decided to work the property from the far Southeastern corner and then bird dog it to each calling stand from there on out. We parked in an old gravel pit and were set to take off on the 4-weeler when I made a last second decision to make the first stand on foot. I have killed coyotes in the adjacent draw before so I didn’t want to take the chance of blowing them out with 4-weeler noises
A steep clime and a few minutes later we found ourselves tucked in along a rocky outcropping facing west. The draw was running north to south and consequently the wind was fallowing it. I called once then twice and then coming at a lope I spot a coyote-moving strait up the draw from the south. I knew I was in trouble with the wind and how the ground laid so I bit my tongue until the coyote disappeared behind a rise. I then jumped to my feet and ran hard directly towards the coyote. At best I was hoping to shave 80 yards off of a near certain running shot as the coyote was sure to wind me. I was however pleasantly surprised to spot the coyote again still oblivious to my presence. I went prone and barked once as I slithered the last couple of feet into shooting position. The coyote stopped, I shot and #3 was in the books. Rising to my knees for one last look around I saw a second coyote pass through a saddle on the far ridge.
I think Kerry was a little confused at my actions. I explained that if you don’t have a good shot at a coyote that was making your wind, it is often a wise choice to break the stand and take a chance moving to a better position.
We continued on for one more stand before hooking back to the truck. The next drainage was much wider and was taking on the full force of the Westerly winds. I howled a lonesome howl and then followed it up with an invitational type howl and broke it off short to add some Ki Yies. My second series brought back what I presumed to be the old female up over a hill some 800 yards away. She was not happy. I am no expert at coyote translations but you can rest assured that what that coyote had to say would have most certainly been unprintable.
What do you do? I told Kerry we are busted, pinned down and the damn coyote is out of range. Well, I just kept calling sticking to my original sequence. Between calls I was quietly calculating my come-ups and windage for my 50-BMG. Oh what I would have traded to have that rifle in front of me. LOL
The old bitch was still giving us hell when seemingly out of nowhere a little light colored male comes floating onto the scene. It caught me off guard as I am not use to getting a response in the mist of such an a$$ chewing. There was no time to ponder the odds because the coyote was on a beeline for our down wind. I scrambled through some boulders and made it to an elevated place and barked the coyote to a stop. Number 4 for the morning was on the ground.
I looked back at Kerry and he was just shaking his head and smiling. “Dang Quinton, do you let anything live.” He asks. “Heck no.” I reply. We are not out here for conservation porpoises are we? We had a good laugh, collected our coyotes and lined out for the pickup.
At this point my confidence/arrogances was at an all time high. Murphy though was about to rear his ugly head.
Eager to get back hunting, we hoped on the 4-weeler and headed to where we left off and planned to continue the rest of the hunt on the ATV. It was 10:30 when we started off. After some difficulty navigating the rocky terrain we eventually made it to the west end of the section. We made one stand and blanked so we were now looking for a gate to get us into the next pasture. To my surprise, we drove the entire west fence line and there were no gates. I was perplexed and then disaster struck. A flat tire! I had no spare or fix-it kit so we limped the 4-weeler back to the pickup, which was now a full mile across the most rocky and unforgiving ground on the ranch. To make a long story less long, we took the scenic rout AROUND the entire section back to the pickup. Frustrated, I parked the 4-weeler, dropped the trailer. It would be slower going now with the truck but at least we were going. Or so we thought.
It was now about 11:30 and the clock was ticking. Knowing now there was no gate in that pasture we drove to the next section north and headed west down a two track. The two track went dry at a submergible but we trudged on west. Dodging washed out cow trails, yuccas and soap weeds we eventually made it to the west fence line. Yep, you guessed it!! We bounced along the damn thing a full mile with out hitting a gate! Back to square one.
At a little after noon we again reached the east county road effectively wasting a full hour and a half in the process. Rather than moving to the next section north and taking another stab at it I cut my losses and drove to the South end of the ranch to a two track I knew well.
Back on schedule we made 4 stands in a row with out seeing a hair. In the back of my mind I really wanted to get up to the North end of the place and work West. Wheat strips, corn circles and CRP bordered the North fence line and ran at least 6 of the 8 miles west. It was made to order for coyotes and I have had some exceptional days running that rout.
Stand number 5 produced a small heard of mule deer that eventually bumped and went northwest. The last doe went over the hill about a half-mile off when a coyote suddenly came running in from the south. It stopped on the hill and intently watched the deer that were now out of our view. We called to no avail at the coyote. The wind was just too strong for the little Crit’R Call Pee Wee to penetrate. The coyote wandered around on the top of the hill for a bit and then slowly made his way over and out of sight.
Not all was lost. The pickup was 100 yards behind us and the coyote disappeared not far from where the two track lead. We hot footed it back to the truck and started creeping our way down the hill. I had my eyes locked on the last place I saw the coyote to make sure he didn’t reappear during our motorized stalk. Halfway down the hill I heard a gut wrenching sound of the undercarriage scraping ground. I tried to stop but it was too late. I was high centered badly. Both the front and back axle was resting on the hard grass and all 4 tires were spinning freely in the loose gravel of the washed out road. I was done. When you get stuck that badly going down hill you might as well throw in the towel and call for help.
Fortunately Kerry was thinking far enough ahead to bring his cell phone so after about a 300-yard walk to the top of a hill I was able to get through to a buddy of mine that lived in town. I was really breaking up but I managed to tell him where I was at and to pick me up at the gate down at the highway. “I am on my way!” He said and I was relieved but the feeling was short lived.
It then and only then dawned on me that there are no less than a half a dozen gates along the highway not to mention I was a full three miles from it!!!! RE-DIAL!!!!! It was too late. Three tries later the phone finally range on the other end but he was already gone.
Being 12 miles out I had no chance of meeting him on time or even in the right place so I told Kerry he may as well take a nap because it is going to be a while. I took off jogging towards the highway. I am not in the shape I use to be but I made it a half-mile before I geared it down to a fast walk. I no more than started walking when I spotted a bedded coyote less than 100 yards off the two track we just drove down!! I observed him for a while and tried to rationalize the situation. I was going to be late no mater what I did. I had no gun but no respectable coyote hunter could pass up such a gift. I am off again heading back to the pickup at top speed. I was gassed big time by the time I reached the truck. Kerry nearly got whiplash when I swung open the door and grabbed my rifle. Breathing quite heavily at the time I explained in short hand what I was doing and was dogtrotting back towards the highway. Between trotting down the hills and walking up them my legs felt like wet noodles by the time I reached the coyote. I peeked through a yucca bush and kept an eye on the coyote until I somewhat caught my breath.
Shooting the coyote was now the simple task of going prone and quietly belly crawling a few yards for a clear shot. I was just a few feet from my shooting position when my little plan started to unravel. Kerry is not here to witness the kill!! This coyote is not going to count!! I just ran an accumulated mile out of my way for what? The exercise!! I calmed my self and thought the hell with it. I’ll at least get a nice prime winter pelt out of the deal. I inched forward.
You have heard the old adage. “Don’t count your chickens before they hatch?” Well I just gave it away again didn’t I? LOL I was just lowering the second leg of my bi-pod when the coyote sprung to his feet and burned out of there. In the hurried and confused state of mind I was in I did the wrong thing. When the coyote broke cover I pulled the shot. A very small strip of hide and fur rocketed off the top of his shoulders and then drifted gently in the wind.
It is good thing no one was around to hear what I thought about the deal. It would have given Andrew Dice Clay heartburn.
I was whipped, beat, dead tired and now even more depressed. It was a long walk down to that highway.
When I did reach the highway not to my surprise no one was around. I figured my buddy either gave up on me or was taking a nap by some gate waiting patiently for my arrival. At best I figured I would meet up with him by a gate down the road somewhere and at worst I would have a 12-mile hike back to town. Suddenly I thought “hey” this is a rural community, heck I know practically everyone in the county on a first name basis. Someone is bound to drive by that recognizes me. I started thumbing for a ride. Instead of the warm welcome I had expected, cars and trucks were swinging wide and giving me funny looks as they whizzed on by.
Again reality hit me square between the eyes. Here I am walking down some lonesome stretch of highway somewhere between BFE and Hell packing a rifle. The blood soaked Carharrts capped off the eerie scene. Who in their right mind is going to wheel right over and offer me a ride? Crips!! I must have looked like some kind of drug-crazed serial killer.
At that point I pretty much came to terms with the fact that I was either going to have a long long walk back to town or get arrested trying. I had hit bottom again but out of the lowest Lows can come the highest highs. At first I thought I was seeing things, an apparition, a mirage perhaps! It had to be! No, the sound of the muffler less, seventy something Dotson affectionately known as “The Can,” was coming over the hill!!! Oh what a sight for sore eyes “and feet” that was. Brian pulled slowly up beside me and asked if I needed a ride. I mustered enough energy to raise my middle finger but little else. I slowly crawled in physically lifting my right leg the final six inches up and onto the floorboard. “Drive.”
Brian, the compassionate and understanding SOB that he is, stopped mocking and teasing me after only 5 minutes. A personal best I am sure.
We were scarcely a mile out of town when out in the middle of a cut hay field, in broad daylight a coyote stood proud as a peacock. My eyes glazed over……..
Like it matters at this stage but to save ink I will just say that the events that fallowed were nothing to write home about. The end result was a sore coyote and an even sorer coyote hunter.
We did eventually make it back to town and time was not on our side. I grabbed some water and jumped into Kerry’s truck and headed back out. We got my pickup unstuck rather quickly, parked Kerry’s and then moved on as planned. The original coyote was long gone and two or three stands later produced nothing. There was a rough stretch of ground a half mile wide between us and a few of my honey holes but with time restraints and the fear of getting stuck again I called off the hunt for the day. We were about an hour and a half from check-in and we still had to retrieve Kerry’s pickup along with my trailer and 4 wheeler.
Check-in that night gave me hope of salvaging the hunt after all. Several teams zeroed out do to the high winds and we ended up tied for first with 4 coyotes. Day money is involved so all ties are broken by weight. That put us in first but only by a couple of ounces.
That night I left early to support a friend of mine that was fighting in an MMA fight in Torrington Wyoming. That made for a long night but I was still in bed by 2:30 the next morning. Let me tell you. I wasn’t so bright eyed and bushy tailed when the alarm went off at six.
Day 2.
I awoke feeling as if I were just pulled through a knothole. I struggled to my feet and felt my way to the bathroom. One eye was matted clear shut and I could hardly see out of the other. Breakfast that morning was two aspirin, a half bottle of Vizine and a tall glass of water. I set the demons free and was good to go.
Six twenty something had us squinting through our respective glasses again over the same meadow we scored on the morning before. Kerry spotted the coyote this time so we retraced our tracks and was approaching the same fence line I shot from before. Everything was going as planned until our movement spooked the calves in the feedlot. The coyote that morning had apparently been to town to see the elephant and was having none of it. A second later our victim was running at full tilt across the meadow. I broke into a run for the fence line barking as I went. The grass was too tall to go prone so I needed to use a post for support.
The coyote began to bounce to a stop and I began to steady the rifle. Something was wrong!. The crosshairs were swinging from left to right to left. Somehow I managed to pick the only damn post in the fence line that was rotted off at the ground. With no time to switch posts I did the best I could and fired. At the shot though I knew the bullet went high right. It was a quiet and cold ride to the next calling stand.
Our new area was near another small feeding operation and well known for holding lots of coyotes, lots of mangy coyotes that is. For whatever reason this area runs about 90% mange.
We no more than got through the gate when we spotted our first coyote coming out of a draw. I hit the bi-pods and hollered for Kerry to give me a range. “Four hundred” he said so with little or no wind at the time I just held for elevation and let fly. Luck was on my side and the coyote fell in his tracks.
We started to stand up to congratulate each other when Kerry spotted coyote #2 bouncing out of the same draw. In a flash I went prone and again said “range me.” There was a slight pause and Kerry blurted out three something. I had a shot but slid the safety on instead. The coyote was visibly further than the first one so I knew Kerry must have got some ground smear on the reading. On approaching the dead coyote we spotted another but offered no shot.
I ran back to the pickup and drove in to retrieve the coyote and Kerry. With everything loaded we circled back and headed east for our first calling stand. Again as luck would have it we spotted another coyote even further to the east than where we started so I went after him. It was tuff going. I was looking into the sun and the coyote had already been alerted by the gunshot and the other activities of the feedlot. It turned into a sort of cat and mouse game for a while. Each time I was into position to shoot the coyote would move into another fold in the landscape. After two or three times the coyote ran out of luck and got himself into a cut that he couldn’t get out of with out being seen. I laid patiently on my vantage point with bad intentions. The coyote did come out and I stopped him with a quick sharp bark and ended his day.
I did make two stands in that area but obviously we had worn out our welcome. It was time to move on. With time constraints as they were I wanted to work a tight area and only planned on moving about 2 miles down the road. On the way I spotted a small pile of rotted bales on the edge of a quarter. With as much mange that was evident in the area and the cold temperature it wasn’t beyond reason to expect those warm bails to be an attractive haunt for an old coyote. I was just finishing my explanation to Kerry when out of the center of the bales explodes one of the most God-awful coyotes I have ever laid eyes on. With scarcely a hair on him he was lurching his way across the wide-open winter wheat as fast as his sickly legs could carry him. My first instinct was to step on the gas and cut the distance a little before I opened fire but almost as quickly a little voice inside my head reminded me of the rules. NO chasing and no shooting from or off of a vehicle of any kind. I hit the breaks instead and baled out.
We had not quite reached the winter wheat and were still ten yards deep in long grass. I cleared the pickup and ran hard for the low standing wheat so I could go prone. When I got the coyote in my scope I couldn’t help but notice again what sorry shape the poor animal was in. It humped along more like a hyena than a coyote. The ground was smooth and flat so for a hundred and some yard running shot it wasn’t all that difficult. The first one put him down and a quick fallow up put him out of his misery. Three down.
Getting back in the pickup the story takes yet another twist. My pickup is a new Chevy and as a coyote hunter keen on being quiet it has become habit to partially extract the keys each time I turn off the motor. This action keeps the bells from going off every time I open the door. On this day in the heat of battle I slid the keys partly out but in my haste my thumb caught the key ring and went flying as I charged out the door. Normally this would be no big deal but at about the same time the keys went flying Kerry was exiting the cab as well leaving the door wide open for the keys to go God knows where. After a quick search around the passenger side seat and door it was becoming painfully obvious what happened. My keys, “my only keys, are now lost somewhere in a terrible tangle of grass and weeds off the starboard side of the ship!!
It was situation critical now. No keys, no cash is what it boiled down to. We opened up the passenger door and formed a perimeter around where the keys could possibly be and started lifting up grass and carefully shaking them out and setting them off to the side. The minutes ticked by and the ground kept getting barer and barer with still no sign of the keys. Kerry, sensing my building frustration ask as politely as he could, “are you sure the keys didn’t fall on your side of the truck?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I felt the keys go flying off my finger to parts unknown. To keep from choking him more than anything I stormed around the pickup and began to search. Sure enough the keys must have bounced off of the shifter and fell between the seats. The Gods were again on my side.
That 20-minute fire dill cost us a stand or two but we kept on. A few minutes later we had our coyote loaded and was back on the road on our way to our final calling destination. We no sooner arrived than we busted out two coyotes. One headed strait north and the other northeast but they were not in any hurry. The winds were switching at this time and were now coming out of the southwest. An odd direction for the wind in my country and consequently the worst wind I could have for this set of hills. I went along as planned and moved strait down wind to our first stand. We were approaching the area I wanted to call and as I was searching for a stand, an out of sight coyote winded us and broke out across the flats quartering east. I went prone at once and started barking. The coyote was bouncing to a stop on a far hill when I told Kerry to range me. I bracketed the coyote in my duplex and through experience I could tell he was right at 300 yards. Setting the crosshairs on his back line II fired and the coyote fell dead on the ground.
A voice from behind said “about that far,” fallowed by a laugh. I began to laugh too and said “that’s what I figured, give or take a yard or two.”
With the gun shot and the bad wind direction I decided to move east for a stand before I circled back west and then back around to the truck. The stand was a nice set up but it was a bit to down-windish for my liking but I had a long shooting lain so I gave it a try. It was a textbook call in. From strait out of the east a large male came running. Of course he was making for my wind so I started barking when he was still about 200 yards out. Twenty yards later he came prancing to a stop and died where he stood. It was a well-furred animal until you got to the hips. Mange had taken its toll. The gray, shriveled and scabby skin supported only a little hair and he had but a stick for a tail. It is a real shame such a beautiful animal would be reduced to that.
A promising hill caused me to move another 600 yards east but it was dry. I backtracked to my coyote and drug him to the section line fence and then hotfooted it west for about a half mile to a nice stand of tall sand hills. At the base of the hills I made a quick stand but the now 20mph winds were giving me very little penetration. I slowly set up for a look around and then took off walking up the hill. It was a steep climb and the wear and tear on my legs the day before was really starting to catch up with me. Eventually I made it up to the top and found a nice location to call from. I laid down on the edge of a finger over looking a series of what I call “choppies” which are essentially a group of smaller rough sand hills. I took a few minutes to catch my breath and began calling. My initial call was a series of squeaks and that is all it took. Several hundred yards out, strait up wind a coyote was picking his way down a steep bank moving strait towards me.
The wind was good but the ground was bad for his approach angle. If he dropped off the bank he would get below me and out of sight. At that point he could literally be on my lap before I could see him again. I stopped him at 150 yards and just before he was out of sight to make the shot. That made 6 for the morning and it was 10:20 a.m. at that point.
I made it off the hill and with coyote in tow I was sure feeling the pain when I finally made it the three quarters mile back to the pickup. Upon arrival we evaluated our situation. Four of the six coyotes that morning were larger males, the mangy one was a dried up runt and the other was a healthy YOY. Not wanting to take any unnecessary risks for an extra coyote we decided to quit early and headed on in.
Although we were confident, anxiety was still high as anything can happen in a coyote tournament. We were nearly the first ones back and slowly one by one other teams started filtering in with 1 or 2 kills and a couple zeroed out. The team out of Wyoming was the one we were worried about most. They had a great area to hunt and not much wind to speak of. I was sitting on my tailgate visiting with some other competitors when the truck with the Wyoming tags finally arrived. They drove by real slow and looked out the window at the six coyotes I had laid out on the ground. The driver looked strait ahead and even a blind man could see the word F@%# role off of his lips. That was all I needed to know.
The Wyomingites killed 4 but saw 22 that day. I was fortunate indeed to come away with a victory. This year I won small dog but the big dog and the matching set of HMRs escaped me by 4 ounces.
Well congratulations!! You managed to chop your way through about 5600 words of bad spellin and grammar. I hope it was worth the eye strain.
Good hunting.
Q,
Posts: 617 | From: Nebraska | Registered: Jan 2003
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Rich Higgins
unknown comic
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posted February 01, 2007 06:33 AM
Thanks, Q.
Made my day.
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2dogs
Knows what it's all about
Member # 649
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posted February 01, 2007 06:42 AM
Good read & shootin. I keep an extra key in my billfold ![[Wink]](wink.gif) . I've been down that mud road ![[Big Grin]](biggrin.gif)
Posts: 1034 | From: central Iowa | Registered: Apr 2005
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JeremyKS
Knows what it's all about
Member # 736
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posted February 01, 2007 07:11 AM
Great read Q, sounds like you have lots of luck ![[Razz]](tongue.gif) I know how the key deal goes, we locked our keys in the truck this year at the midwest contest, we still had our 4-wheeler though.
[ February 01, 2007, 07:13 AM: Message edited by: JeremyKS ]
Posts: 369 | From: Texas panhandle | Registered: Nov 2005
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TA17Rem
Hello, I'm the legendary Tim Anderson, Southern Minneesota Know it all
Member # 794
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posted February 01, 2007 09:07 AM
Good read Q , thanks for shareing..
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What if I told you, the left wing and right wing both belong to same bird!
Posts: 5617 | From: S.D. | Registered: Jan 2006
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Leonard
HMFIC
Member # 2
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posted February 01, 2007 09:24 AM
Yeah, good one, Q.
Reminded me of a whole bunch of similiar events, especially the time we lost a single ignition key in two inches of slush on a gravel road, and how it somehow managed to sling twenty feet before dropping out of sight....or did the truck roll that far? In the dark.
Running the truck into a hazzard while observing a coyote, with your head up your ass; been there, done that!
Congratulations, you're a human dynamo!
Good hunting. LB
[ February 01, 2007, 09:25 AM: Message edited by: Leonard ]
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EL BEE Knows It All and Done It All.
Don't piss me off!
Posts: 32366 | From: Upland, CA | Registered: Jan 2003
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Melvin
Knows what it's all about
Member # 634
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posted February 01, 2007 10:21 AM
That is the best read i've had in a long time.Thanks,Q.
Posts: 661 | From: PA. | Registered: Apr 2005
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Joel Hughes
SPECIAL GUEST
Member # 384
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posted February 01, 2007 02:42 PM
Excellent as usual. Thanks for the story.
Joel
Posts: 145 | From: texas | Registered: Aug 2004
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Kelly Jackson
SECOND PLACE/GARTH BROOKS LOOK-A-LIKE CONTEST
Member # 977
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posted February 01, 2007 03:31 PM
Thx for taking the time to make this post. It was a good read and must have been a hell of a day and half.
Kelly
Posts: 997 | From: Comanche OK | Registered: Oct 2006
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TRnCO
FUTURE HALL OF FAMER
Member # 690
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posted February 01, 2007 04:36 PM
Great write up Q. I think it sums coyote calling up quite well. A guy has to work through the downs to get to the ups of calling. Congrats!!
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Is it hunting season yet? I hate summer!
Posts: 996 | From: Elizabeth, CO | Registered: Aug 2005
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stevecriner
UNKNOWN-before he was famous?
Member # 892
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posted February 01, 2007 04:46 PM
Boy did that make me even more ruined. Im going huntin,,,,in the mornin. Hell of a nice story Q. Damn what a weekend you had.
steve
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"I love coyotes and put up with dogs....My neighbor has a slew of them."
Posts: 321 | From: missouri | Registered: Jul 2006
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Michael J
PAKMAN
Member # 468
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posted February 01, 2007 05:47 PM
I don't trust myself no further than I can pee! I always find a cow pie or rock and the keys go under it and they stay safe till I get back. Plus I don't hear no jingle or jangle while I'm walkin.
Great post Q.
Posts: 8 | From: Azle, Texas | Registered: Dec 2004
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Q-Wagoner
FREE TRIAL MEMBERSHIP
Member # 33
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posted February 01, 2007 09:14 PM
Glad you guys liked the story. I didn’t really think it would take that many pages though. LOL
Good hunting.
Q.
Posts: 617 | From: Nebraska | Registered: Jan 2003
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nd coyote killer
HUNTMASTER PRO STAFF
Member # 40
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posted February 01, 2007 09:23 PM
great read Q your shooting ability never ceases to amaze me!!!!
Q i lost your phone number could you email it again? I'm kind of wondering where that jackal hide went LOLOLOLOL and i have a few questions for you
[ February 01, 2007, 09:25 PM: Message edited by: nd coyote killer ]
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"Sure are cocky for a starving pilgrim" - Bear Claw
Posts: 385 | From: On a hill | Registered: Jan 2003
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DAA
Utah/Promoted WESTERN REGIONAL Hunt Director
Member # 11
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posted February 02, 2007 05:33 AM
Nicely done and well told!
The time spent reading this was time well invested. Totally enjoyable read.
Some damn fine shooting involved in that win.
- DAA
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"Oh yeah, they're gonna talk to you, and talk to you, and talk to you about individual freedom, but they see a free individual, it's gonna scare 'em." -- George Hanson, Easy Rider, 1969.
Rocky Mountain Varmint Hunter
Posts: 2676 | From: Salt Lake City, UT | Registered: Jan 2003
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Wiley E
Knows what it's all about
Member # 108
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posted February 02, 2007 07:20 AM
Good story Q!
I can relate to most of that.
This years St. Francis hunt was beyond anything I experienced in my life. I have never hunted that hard before even back in the 3 day contest at Martin spent on horseback.
8 stands in one day pulling a calf sled across frozen snow that was 8" - 12" deep breaking through with every step. The last hour walking against a 30 - 40 mph wind and blowing snow directly in our face as we walked towards an eagerly awaiting landowner at our destination.
I have always worried about the toll my high cholestrol had taken on my heart but I know now that my heart can still take a lot of abuse.
My partner is 54 and broke his neck in two places this spring in a horse accident. He had a 99% chance of ending up like Chrisopher Reeves and he beat the odds with a plate in his neck. He also found out what he could endure.
The game warden pulled us over to shake our hands and tell us that we were F'ing crazy which we already knew.
Can you believe I want to go back?
We only shot 6 coyotes (3 each day) but I've never been prouder of how hard we worked to kill those 6.
We walked 8 - 9 miles zig zagging through a pasture about 20 miles East of where you and I dumped our first double.
Sshhhhh! Our secret!
We might have to pull the horses next year.
~SH~
[ February 02, 2007, 07:26 AM: Message edited by: Wiley E ]
Posts: 853 | From: Kadoka, S.D | Registered: Feb 2003
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