After traveling 1200 miles in two days, it was anti climatic to head out on the dirt and gravel roads in search of speedgoats and to get a lay of the land and formulate a plan for how I was going to get into archery range.
As a horseback and afoot type hunter in my usual mountain hunts, it was different to be driving at 50 mph and “hunting”. It is foolhardy to think that you are going to set out on foot from camp and cover enough ground to see antelope. These critters live in wide open country and even though they are prolific, it still can be a couple miles between sightings. So if you are going to spot antelope, you are going to be burning fuel in some motorized conveyance.
With the wetter than normal rainfall the area received, water was plentiful. I had my doubts about setting up on a water source. both because the ranchers have developed abundant numbers of pipelines and windmills for the cattle, and the fact that every low spot seemed to have a small body of water in it.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
In the first three days (OK 2.5) I concentrated on spotting pronghorns from the road and trying to execute a stalk. In that amount of time I attempted over 20 stalks. Never did I ever think I was in my effective range.
I tried decoying bucks with harems and I tried decoying lone bucks. I got their attention but they could see all they wanted to see from 150 yards, and didn’t feel the need to get any closer. The rut was not on yet.
I tried to find bucks on the back side of a hill for a stealthy approach, but the long sloping topography made for a long shot once I crested the hill. Inevitably, I was spotted before I could get into range.
So I resigned myself to finding a water source to set up a pop-up blind and wait in ambush. In my travels I spotted a ridge that separated a large chunk of public land from view from the road. I walked the 1/2 mile to the top of the ridge and spotted a buck with a group of does in a draw. On the ridge behind them was a galvinized steel watertrough. “AH-HAH!” I thought. “I’m going to set up on that trough and catch that buck when he comes to water.”
So I went back a mile or so and parked at another trough on the pipeline. I loaded up the blind on my backpack and hiked to the trough. As I was setting up the blind, a sharp eyed doe in the draw spied my movement and the whole bunch ran over the ridge I had spotted them from. So I set up in the blind in the hopes the speedgoats would return.
Well, it wasn’t a fun experience. I’m used to “runnin’ and gunnin’” making multiple setups for critters and hiking between attempts. Sitting in a small tent for the daylight hours was contrary to everything I have come to love about hunting. The first afternoon I did not prepare by having reading material. That was a mistake. Cabin fever set in early and I was a twitchy mess when the sun set. When I hiked out to the pickup I saw the herd I spooked feed back behind my blind into another draw.
That night I delivered “the girls” to Greeley to spend the next three days with the kid’s uncle and grandmother. While I was hunting on the Grasslands they would be at the Denver Zoo, and Rocky Mountain National Park. I had a chance for a quick shower, and a shopping trip to outfit myself for a long three days of blind sitting. That meant snacks, and reading material.
Thursday, Friday
I sat and looked at a yellow prairie and a silver trough at 20 yds. for fifteen hours from dark ’til dark.
At 8:30 I had a pronghorn buck come into 160 yards and feed in my direction. I really thought he was going to come to water and offer me a shot, but he fed past, out of range.
I read a 400 page novel TWICE before I had any more action. As the sun dropped down to the horizon, a buck with three does came out of the draw behind me headed for the trough. When they spotted the blind though their female intuition held them out at 130 yards. Not liking what they saw, they went over the hill. I never saw them again before dark.
I was back in the blind the next morning before daylight. But the resident buck was nowhere to be found. At 2:00 pm I spied a travelling buck out 400 yards from the trough crossing the prairie. Just then loud bellows erupted behind me as three range bulls came lumbering past my blind into the neighborhood.
The three bulls proceeded to drink their fill and then started raising a ruckus, pawing and shoving each other around like 2000 pound teenagers. When the dirt started hitting the side of my blind, I decided I didn’t want to become collateral damage. I boogied out of there with 4 hours of light left.
I decided to relocate to a pasture that didn’t have any cattle in it. There was a creek oxbow that held water a few miles away. I set the blind up and counted three bucks in the vicinity driving to and from the waterhole in the evening light.
Saturday
I arrived well before daylight hoping the evening was enough time for the resident speedgoats to become accustomed to the blind. at 10:00 am a group of does and a small buck fed by well out of range.
Other than that, and two bucks who blew in alarm a few hours later, The only other excitement was the bird life at this natural waterhole.
As the sun set, I resigned myself to another meal of tag stew. The silver lining to this hunt was that I had a chance to spend it with my wife and children and still get a hunt in.
I would break down camp the next morning and begin the trip home with the family.
