Here is a pic of me and my main dog sady and a good size blacky was my 2nd bear If my brain remembers right. Cheers Chuck B..
Here is a pic of me and my main dog sady and a good size blacky was my 2nd bear If my brain remembers right. Cheers Chuck B..
You gotta love the first. Way to go, I remember my sons first deer and and the glow on his face was something I had never seen before and will remember it the rest of my life. Cheers Chuck B
My brother put a stalk on a black bear but only chance at a shot, he had glare from the sun so he passed. Fast forward a year, same clearing and same bear, i was able to put him down with my 270 win. double lung with a beautiful red mist as the back drop.....hence my handle. I was very pleased with myself.
oh and i love the hug on the deer in the first story lol
Great stories folks...will have to wait a few days to post, pics on my home computer and were going camping..
OK, here is my story of my first (and only) cougar:
In January of 1984 I decided that I had a real good chanceof getting a cougar in Sayward, which is where I Iived at the time. So I wasdriving around looking for tracks. I found some fresh tracks of a female withtwo kittens. Then, I came upon a track of a good male. The pad was 4 to 4 ½inches across. I was with my wife and our one-year old son, and the track wentacross the road in fresh snow at the top of a switch-back, heading down thehill. So, I drove down to the bottom of the switchback, and backed into thebend at the bottom, and was going to leave my wife and baby to follow the tracks.I was planning on walking back up the hill on the road, then follow the tracksdown the steep hill, and see if I could see him between the switchbacks, or findout if he had cut sideways and went into the timber. The tracks were veryfresh.
Anyway, once I got parked in an ideal spot, I decided thatthis was not too good a plan, and that I had to take my wife and son homebefore I did this, which I did. Then I came back to the switchback - I had beenaway for about 1 ½ hours. Turned out, the tracks had come onto the bottom road,just as I had predicted, and the cougar had walked right past where we hadparked the Land Cruiser, if my wife had of been there, she would have had agood view! So, the cat had walked into a big timbered area. I drove home andphoned an old family friend, Dave, who had known my mom and dad and our familyfor years. He had also been a cougar hunter for many years, had hunted themduring the depression for some extra money. He used to have dogs, and he usedto contract out to the Conservation Officer service to respond to problem cats.However, he was retired now. I told him the situation, and he said he would getsome dogs that a friend of his had, and be up to Sayward in the morning. Thatis what I consider day one of my cougar hunt.
As a friend pointed out to me last year, there are many "firsts" in hunting and they don't stop coming. Your first mule deer. Your first Whitetail. Your first "big" mule deer. Your first typical or non-typical. Your first "book" animal. The first deer you call in. First with a bow. First immy moose. First LEH moose. Etc, etc... I find every year brings it's own adventures and firsts.
This is my first ever mule deer, but it is my 2nd buck overall. Found his fresh track in the snow and followed them till I found him and another buck tailing a hot doe. Spotted him standing between some trees. The doe walked out, he followed. I macked at him and he stopped and stood broadside about 30 yards above me on a hill. One shot just below the chin put him to sleep for good. He stank to high heaven and was truly "rutted up". But with proper care of the scent glands and careful field dressing and skining and hanging, he tasted absolutely delicious with no "gamey" taste whatsoever.
Last edited by Buckmeister; 07-21-2017 at 06:02 PM.
caddisguy "I worry about predators wanting to eat me or bucks trying to take my manhood. "How was your hunting trip honey" ... "wahh I don't want to talk about it... sob ""
On Day 2, Dave arrived with two dogs, but they were youngand hadn’t really been trained in running cats. We went out to the tracks, andsince I knew exactly how old they were, this helped Dave evaluate the dogs. Oneof them was pretty good, the other didn’t know what he was supposed to do.Anyway, he had them both on leashes, and we followed the tracks down into avalley, then across the valley and towards the highway. That is when we decidedthat I would go back and get the truck, and would meet Dave and the dogs on thehighway, which is what we did. There was a logging road paralleling thehighway, and so, we got on that one, and finally, after a lot of looking, foundwhere the cat had crossed that logging road and headed up the hill. By then itwas getting on towards dusk, and so we called it a day. Dave said, if you finda fresh kill, call me, because these dogs aren’t really good in tracking, andunless you find a fresh kill they probably won’t be able to find the cat. So hewent home.
That day, I slipped on the snowy, icy hill, I had my .308Browning BLR over my shoulder, and fell and broke my scope, which was a Leupold2X7 compact scope. The barrel of the scope was broken. So that night, I tookthe scope off, and decided to rely on my iron sights, I knew any shot would notbe very far.
Day 3, I went out again and followed the cat tracks up thehill, through lots of Christmas tree second growth. I followed it up the hilluntil it went into the timber at the top of the ridge. At that point, I thoughtthat it would keep going, into the next valley, and that I had lost it, and soI called it off and went home.