I don't know why, but it seems that no matter how much gear or how many gadgets you have, you still don't seem to have the one piece or part that you need. Either that or the gismo you have should have been replaced. Yeah, you've been there, you know you have, or is it just me???
Back when Shep was a pup (that means a while back), I was headed to Elk Camp in my trusty FJ40 Landcruiser. It was the third day of Elk season and I was anxious to get there since I had had to work the first couple days of the season. I went to work in in my hunting clothes and hit the road right afterward. The trip to Camp wasn't really all that long, but the anticipation just made it seem like forever and a day.
I pull into camp with about an hour's daylight left and really don't expect to see anyone around camp with daylight still burnin'. But there they were. This only meant one thing; they had downed an Elk or maybe two. Sure enough, I was right! Randy and his dad had gotten back to camp just ahead of me and were attempting to hang the critters on the meat pole. By attempting, I mean that this chore was getting harder by the minute. You see, the rope they brought along for this very purpose wasn't going to hang a small deer, let alone a Bull Elk and a Cow as well. Just as I pull up the rope breaks......again.......and the Elk go tumbling to the ground.......again. This is not working as it was supposed to, nope not at all. Well the old Landruiser had a 4-ton PTO winch on it and I pulled up and we hauled the Elk up onto the meat pole with ease, what a deal. Sure beats bustin' a rotten rope.........again.
That isn't the end of the gear troubles for this trip, not at all. You see, it sure is nice to have a PTO winch, and plenty of cable to pull yourself out of trouble or haul a critter up into a tree or heck, hook it up to a potato digger if you so choose. Problem is gettin' a balled up in gumbo mud when there isn't a tree or big ole rock to be found to hook onto to give you a little helpin' hand. See I figured I'd head down this gumbo mud road and take a look see. I went on down the road and got out and went on a little hike and hunted around for a couple of hours and then decided to head back up. Well when I get back to the gumbo mud section of this here road the ole Landcruiser just isn't having anything to do with getting back up to the main road. I'm slippin' and slidin' and makin' some big ole ruts and there's this fella comes by on the main road and he just sits there a 1/2 mile away and watches my futility. He's likely wondering what kind of an idiot would try to drive down there when it's wet out. But me, I already know what kind of an idiot it would take. Well, I'm not completely without an idea to get myself outta this predicament, cause I've been there before. Not on this road, but, well, I'll tell ya about that one another day, or maybe I'll just keep it to myself, ya never know! I head off and gather up some pine and fir bows and stuff em in the ruts to try and get some traction and after about 3 whirls at this I finally get some momentum and up the hill the Landcruiser roars. Whew............
But wait, there is yet another gear and gadget mishap to come. The next day, I'm on the mountain by myself. You see Randy and Ron had to head out and along with them went the trailer full of gear, so I borrow Ron's Coleman stove to make cookin' a bit easier. I figure I'll sleep in the Landcruiser if it's too cold or rainy and I'll be good as gold.
I climbed up above this saddle and was sittin' there watching a game trail that looked as if it had been the main travel path for many a critter goin' over the saddle. Sure enough, along about 1/2 hour before dusk along comes this Cow Elk. I hunker down and wait for the Bull that surely must be with her. Wait, there comes another one, and another and another and, dad-burn-it, they are all Cows. Thirteen Cows to be exact and not a single antler. It didn't matter how long and hard I stared at them through my binos, I just couldn't get any of them to sprout horns. Well, they never see me, so I figure, this is a pretty good spot, and I back off and head down to the trusty Landcruiser just after dark. I pull out the borrowed camp stove and get ready to fix up a can of beans and some bacon for dinner. I fill the tank with white gas and pump up the pressure. I light a match and then turn the knob to allow some gas into the burner. Right here is where things go all to pieces. You see, I've never had a Coleman stove do this before, it turns into a torch with a flame about 3-4 ft high and I'm pretty sure this isn't normal. I get the knob turned back off, but not before scorching the bloomin' lid to the stove nice and black. Anyway, I let it cool down and I just put the thing away. Cold beans and Vienna Sausage for me that night. This stove never pulled that trick again for me or Ron or anyone, but it always had that big ole black scorch mark on it to remind ya that it could.
Well, I never saw another Elk that trip. I suppose the screaming and the big flame out on the Coleman stove scared em off, I don't know. Main thing is we came home safe again, despite our best efforts otherwise. More lessons learned, more gear and gadgets to be obtained. And thus the journey continuous.............
Monday, August 31, 2009
Friday, August 28, 2009
Gadgets & Gear Galore
Why oh why do Elk hunters think they need to bring something new to Elk Camp every single year? Pretty silly question, isn't it? There really is no answer to this question, but there likely are many, many theories.
I think back to some of the first Elk Camps I was lucky enough to be a part of, and to tell you the truth, the accomodations and comfort were, shall we say, rough and, well, rougher. One I remember from 20 plus years ago was particularly rough. We had teamed up with a couple of other fellers that were familiar with the country we were wanting to hunt. Our assembling of gear was a bit comical, to say the least. First of all we didn't have a tent, we didn't have a tarp, and we certainly weren't staying in a cabin or hut. So here we are headed into the high country without shelter, why we are still around to tell some of these stories is certainly a miracle. But survive we have, and we will continue to tell old tales til we are, well, old.
The nights were pretty darn cold, and luckily it didn't rain, not too much anyway. Wet gear is a bummer for sure. To make matters worse, the first night found Greg, one of our new hunting buddies, without a sleeping bag, or a blanket. Nope, he didn't bring a thing. Now it wasn't all his fault, you see, Denny was supposed to have shown up at camp that evening, but he didn't, and along with Denny, neither did Greg's sleeping bag. We did bring along something to build a fire, so at least we had flames and smoke. More on the flames part later. We've got a fire ring built of rocks and Greg figures he'll just curl up by the warm rocks. Which works pretty good until there's a sprinkle of rain and on top of that the hot rocks are melting the frost in the frozen ground and after a few hours Greg is curled up in the mud.
By the time morning rolls around and Denny rolls into camp, we, and particularly Greg, are fairly miserable and definately in need of some gear and gadgets. We get warmed up and shove some eats in our bellies and we are off. We are off to get our bucks. Now I know that this here blog is about Elk Camp and Elk Hunting, but I just couldn't resist telling you this tale. We head off along this hog back we refer to as The Imnaha Divide or Beeler's Ridge. This thing is steep on both sides and at some points only about 6' wide. The views are magnifecent to say the least and because of those views, you can only imagine what a hike down into these big ole parellel canyons would be like. Well we found out for sure about two hours into our hunt. Greg pulls up and pops this 3 pt muley that is standin' just below the ridge. This buck doesn't drop right there or slide a little ways and get hung up in some brush, OH NO, he slides and tumbles and slides some more and tumbles a whole lot more. Off down into this big ole ravine and out of sight. Well, Randy and Greg and I head on down after this critter and it is steep and lots of shale rock, and well, it is a miserable climb down. All the while we're thinkin' about what its gonna be like to climb back up out there with a deer.
Well, we finally find the critter, get it field dressed and split in half. Do we have any packs with us? Heck no, who needs gear and gadgets anyway, right? Well Greg takes the head end, Randy takes the tail end, and me, I'm the feller who winds up haulin 3 rifles and two fanny packs (bum bags for you Aussies and Kiwis). On the way out my pack comes open and I spread part of my gear down the canyon. Of course I don't know this until I've gotten quite a ways up the slope. I take off all my load and head back down the canyon picking up matches and compass and bung fodder, but the only thing I cannot find is the knife I had gotten from my Grandpa. I searched and searched, but never was able to find it. I still think about it every time I'm in the woods and it bugs me to this very day.
Well, it's one heck of a climb and we are havin' day dreams about chain saw winches and dear carts and all manner of helpful gadgets and gear. The cold night of the night before had also definately burned off and it was unseasonably warm to boot. By the time we are up to the top of the ridge we are out of water and still havin' about 2 hrs of hiking Beeler Ridge before we get back to camp. About 1/2 way to camp there is this water trough and a spring runnin' into it. I'll tell you what, that spring water was probably the best I've ever drunk.
Well we get back and there is this funny lookin' rectangular charred black imprint on the ground over the top of the fire pit. It's about 6' long and 30" wide and looks pretty odd. Yeah, its just the same size as the cot mattress that ole Randy had borrowed from his dad. The wind had picked it up and laid it down right smack dab in the middle of the fire pit and it was now no more than a reminder of a softer nights sleep.
Lets see now, no tent, missing a sleeping bag, no meat packs, no deer cart, a lost knife, no more cot, what else could we forget or ruin?? Well fortunately for this group, we had pretty well reduced our losses at this point. Along about dusk we shoot another young buck, this time I get the honors and he's a nice forkey horn. We haul him up out of the canyon after dark using a lantern to guide our way out. Hey, we remembered something, we did have a lantern! That was it for our taking of deer on this hunt, and poor ole Greg even had a sleeping bag for the rest of the trip. Lots of lessons learned and put to use in later hunts and hikes. We're all still found roaming the woods every Fall in search of Elk, Deer, Grouse, Varmints, Etc. Lesser guys would have given the whole idea up after a trip or two, but we have perservered and lovin' Camp more and more each year. Get on out there and enjoy it with us, you'll be glad you did!
I think back to some of the first Elk Camps I was lucky enough to be a part of, and to tell you the truth, the accomodations and comfort were, shall we say, rough and, well, rougher. One I remember from 20 plus years ago was particularly rough. We had teamed up with a couple of other fellers that were familiar with the country we were wanting to hunt. Our assembling of gear was a bit comical, to say the least. First of all we didn't have a tent, we didn't have a tarp, and we certainly weren't staying in a cabin or hut. So here we are headed into the high country without shelter, why we are still around to tell some of these stories is certainly a miracle. But survive we have, and we will continue to tell old tales til we are, well, old.
The nights were pretty darn cold, and luckily it didn't rain, not too much anyway. Wet gear is a bummer for sure. To make matters worse, the first night found Greg, one of our new hunting buddies, without a sleeping bag, or a blanket. Nope, he didn't bring a thing. Now it wasn't all his fault, you see, Denny was supposed to have shown up at camp that evening, but he didn't, and along with Denny, neither did Greg's sleeping bag. We did bring along something to build a fire, so at least we had flames and smoke. More on the flames part later. We've got a fire ring built of rocks and Greg figures he'll just curl up by the warm rocks. Which works pretty good until there's a sprinkle of rain and on top of that the hot rocks are melting the frost in the frozen ground and after a few hours Greg is curled up in the mud.
By the time morning rolls around and Denny rolls into camp, we, and particularly Greg, are fairly miserable and definately in need of some gear and gadgets. We get warmed up and shove some eats in our bellies and we are off. We are off to get our bucks. Now I know that this here blog is about Elk Camp and Elk Hunting, but I just couldn't resist telling you this tale. We head off along this hog back we refer to as The Imnaha Divide or Beeler's Ridge. This thing is steep on both sides and at some points only about 6' wide. The views are magnifecent to say the least and because of those views, you can only imagine what a hike down into these big ole parellel canyons would be like. Well we found out for sure about two hours into our hunt. Greg pulls up and pops this 3 pt muley that is standin' just below the ridge. This buck doesn't drop right there or slide a little ways and get hung up in some brush, OH NO, he slides and tumbles and slides some more and tumbles a whole lot more. Off down into this big ole ravine and out of sight. Well, Randy and Greg and I head on down after this critter and it is steep and lots of shale rock, and well, it is a miserable climb down. All the while we're thinkin' about what its gonna be like to climb back up out there with a deer.
Well, we finally find the critter, get it field dressed and split in half. Do we have any packs with us? Heck no, who needs gear and gadgets anyway, right? Well Greg takes the head end, Randy takes the tail end, and me, I'm the feller who winds up haulin 3 rifles and two fanny packs (bum bags for you Aussies and Kiwis). On the way out my pack comes open and I spread part of my gear down the canyon. Of course I don't know this until I've gotten quite a ways up the slope. I take off all my load and head back down the canyon picking up matches and compass and bung fodder, but the only thing I cannot find is the knife I had gotten from my Grandpa. I searched and searched, but never was able to find it. I still think about it every time I'm in the woods and it bugs me to this very day.
Well, it's one heck of a climb and we are havin' day dreams about chain saw winches and dear carts and all manner of helpful gadgets and gear. The cold night of the night before had also definately burned off and it was unseasonably warm to boot. By the time we are up to the top of the ridge we are out of water and still havin' about 2 hrs of hiking Beeler Ridge before we get back to camp. About 1/2 way to camp there is this water trough and a spring runnin' into it. I'll tell you what, that spring water was probably the best I've ever drunk.
Well we get back and there is this funny lookin' rectangular charred black imprint on the ground over the top of the fire pit. It's about 6' long and 30" wide and looks pretty odd. Yeah, its just the same size as the cot mattress that ole Randy had borrowed from his dad. The wind had picked it up and laid it down right smack dab in the middle of the fire pit and it was now no more than a reminder of a softer nights sleep.
Lets see now, no tent, missing a sleeping bag, no meat packs, no deer cart, a lost knife, no more cot, what else could we forget or ruin?? Well fortunately for this group, we had pretty well reduced our losses at this point. Along about dusk we shoot another young buck, this time I get the honors and he's a nice forkey horn. We haul him up out of the canyon after dark using a lantern to guide our way out. Hey, we remembered something, we did have a lantern! That was it for our taking of deer on this hunt, and poor ole Greg even had a sleeping bag for the rest of the trip. Lots of lessons learned and put to use in later hunts and hikes. We're all still found roaming the woods every Fall in search of Elk, Deer, Grouse, Varmints, Etc. Lesser guys would have given the whole idea up after a trip or two, but we have perservered and lovin' Camp more and more each year. Get on out there and enjoy it with us, you'll be glad you did!
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