Philcott
11-05-2013, 01:18 PM
So here is the 2013 version of our deer hunting trip.
We had planned to head over on a Friday morning ferry but because of the thick fog and traffic slowdowns in Vancouver we decided we'd leave Thursday on a 5:00 pm boat. The plan worked well and we sailed through the valley to Hope and on to Princeton without a hitch. We had booked into a little motel just east of town because I had seen it many times before and thought it looked nice. It's set back from the road and nestled in beetle free pine trees and has a pool in front. Not that we were looking for a pool on Oct. 25th. Well, looks can be deceiving. The room was cold, smelt of cleanser and had uncomfortable beds. Oh well, we had gotten a jump on the next days travel and morning came quickly.
The next morning, frosty, crisp and sunny, started without a hitch until we reached Bromely Rock Park on the Similkameen river. An accident involving a transport truck a car and black ice had occurred a hour or so before we arrived and taken the life of at least one traveler. The road was closed so we back tracked to Princeton crossed the river and took Old East Hedley Road. I had wanted to take this road some time but not for this reason.
The rest of the trip went well with a stop at Maraposa orchards for some of the best Braeburn apples I had eaten in a long long time. We picked up a bag for camp. Here is the view across the road. I'm sure many of you know this view well.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v244/philcott/IMG_2780_zps686b274c.jpg
The drive from Keremeos to Osoyoos was beautiful with the poplar and fruit trees along the roadside and river in full fall beauty. We picked up groceries and rum and headed into camp.
After settling into camp, checking out the game pole, talking to a couple of guys and getting a fire going we took a run up the mountain to see if there were any prints in snow or other signs to tell us it would be a good week. Not much sigh though as the ground was hard and dry. Not to worry we thought we've been here before and kind of know where the deer hang out.
Morning started at 5:30. Coffee for my partner, a peanut butter sandwich for me and we were of to the hills. We arrived before first light and I got out in a place we call “the S curves” and walked in 20 minutes to a rock I use as a back drop and settled in for daybreak. Pete went on to his spot and anticipation was high. It was so nice to once again be in the bush with rifle in hand and my fleece hat on my head. As light began creeping into the cut I methodically glassed every inch of it. Over and over. Then, out of no where, three mule does were snacking in the suns early glow. As always my heart raced at their sight. Surely a buck would soon appear. As is often the case I fixated on the does for a while before scanning around to look for the buck. They kept looking over their backs in a southern direction so I focused my attention there and I finally saw what they were looking at. Damn, three more does. OK,this is alright, surely a buck won't be able to resist and with head down and neck swollen will come into view in mere minutes. Nope. Four more does.
I sat on this small herd of mule deer for an hour and a bit before they slowly moseyed off to wherever they go. I continued to watch the cut for another 90 minutes or so and then my numb @ss and full bladder told me it was time to get up and get on with things. Once clear of the area I let loose the floodgates and gave a big sigh of relief.
Since it was getting on to 11:30 it was time to walk up to where Pete was sitting and make a plan for the next couple hours. We hooked up, grabbed a braburn, told out stories of the mornings happenings and worked out a plan. Pete would head to another spot we know and I would grab my, new to me, 1954 Winchester 94 in 30-30 and we would go on our very first walk with in the bush together.
I should take a moment to thank Foxton Jim for coming to look at this rifle with me and to Pieter for letting it out of his hands.
I decided to take this rifle since I would be walking/climbing to a ridge where we have had luck in the past. I knew my shots would be 100 yards or under and that would be about all my old eyes and the open iron sights would be able to handle, even with the blaze orange fingernail polish dabbed onto the front sight.
Here are two shots of the place I was headed.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v244/philcott/IMG_2800_zps833aa73c.jpg
This it a pick of the blow down on the top of the rock ridge. From experience I can tell you it's a tough pull getting over those pecker poles.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v244/philcott/IMG_2808_zpsead636f8.jpg
I hadn't gone more than 20 minutes of nice slow walking when, peaking over a fallen log was a big set of mule deer ears. I froze and stared for a moment before slowly lifting my binos to my eyes to double check that I had seen bone. Sure as your born there it was. Positive ID of a mule buck. Now, how to get into a firing position without spooking it. As I started to move to a stump I saw him turn and look for an out so I calmly raised my right arm and the buck grunt I have attached to it and gave a couple soft blows. He gave his tail a few slow flicks and seemed to think all was well. I now made the 6 foot move to the stump and laid prone behind it. Again the buck got concerned and moved behind a tree completely blocking any hope of a shot. I was all lined up and comfortable for the approximately 75 yard shot, now all I needed was for the deer to step out again. I gave two more grunts and he poked his head out. This is where I was starting to wish I had my scoped Remington 700 as it would have been an east head shot but what I had was what I hoped could soon be called my trusty 30-30. After a short staring contest the buck turned and started walking out of my line of sight so I thought what the hell and I gave three more grunts on my call. Son-of -a bitch, he turned and walked completely broadside and boom.............................
Buck down.
We had planned to head over on a Friday morning ferry but because of the thick fog and traffic slowdowns in Vancouver we decided we'd leave Thursday on a 5:00 pm boat. The plan worked well and we sailed through the valley to Hope and on to Princeton without a hitch. We had booked into a little motel just east of town because I had seen it many times before and thought it looked nice. It's set back from the road and nestled in beetle free pine trees and has a pool in front. Not that we were looking for a pool on Oct. 25th. Well, looks can be deceiving. The room was cold, smelt of cleanser and had uncomfortable beds. Oh well, we had gotten a jump on the next days travel and morning came quickly.
The next morning, frosty, crisp and sunny, started without a hitch until we reached Bromely Rock Park on the Similkameen river. An accident involving a transport truck a car and black ice had occurred a hour or so before we arrived and taken the life of at least one traveler. The road was closed so we back tracked to Princeton crossed the river and took Old East Hedley Road. I had wanted to take this road some time but not for this reason.
The rest of the trip went well with a stop at Maraposa orchards for some of the best Braeburn apples I had eaten in a long long time. We picked up a bag for camp. Here is the view across the road. I'm sure many of you know this view well.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v244/philcott/IMG_2780_zps686b274c.jpg
The drive from Keremeos to Osoyoos was beautiful with the poplar and fruit trees along the roadside and river in full fall beauty. We picked up groceries and rum and headed into camp.
After settling into camp, checking out the game pole, talking to a couple of guys and getting a fire going we took a run up the mountain to see if there were any prints in snow or other signs to tell us it would be a good week. Not much sigh though as the ground was hard and dry. Not to worry we thought we've been here before and kind of know where the deer hang out.
Morning started at 5:30. Coffee for my partner, a peanut butter sandwich for me and we were of to the hills. We arrived before first light and I got out in a place we call “the S curves” and walked in 20 minutes to a rock I use as a back drop and settled in for daybreak. Pete went on to his spot and anticipation was high. It was so nice to once again be in the bush with rifle in hand and my fleece hat on my head. As light began creeping into the cut I methodically glassed every inch of it. Over and over. Then, out of no where, three mule does were snacking in the suns early glow. As always my heart raced at their sight. Surely a buck would soon appear. As is often the case I fixated on the does for a while before scanning around to look for the buck. They kept looking over their backs in a southern direction so I focused my attention there and I finally saw what they were looking at. Damn, three more does. OK,this is alright, surely a buck won't be able to resist and with head down and neck swollen will come into view in mere minutes. Nope. Four more does.
I sat on this small herd of mule deer for an hour and a bit before they slowly moseyed off to wherever they go. I continued to watch the cut for another 90 minutes or so and then my numb @ss and full bladder told me it was time to get up and get on with things. Once clear of the area I let loose the floodgates and gave a big sigh of relief.
Since it was getting on to 11:30 it was time to walk up to where Pete was sitting and make a plan for the next couple hours. We hooked up, grabbed a braburn, told out stories of the mornings happenings and worked out a plan. Pete would head to another spot we know and I would grab my, new to me, 1954 Winchester 94 in 30-30 and we would go on our very first walk with in the bush together.
I should take a moment to thank Foxton Jim for coming to look at this rifle with me and to Pieter for letting it out of his hands.
I decided to take this rifle since I would be walking/climbing to a ridge where we have had luck in the past. I knew my shots would be 100 yards or under and that would be about all my old eyes and the open iron sights would be able to handle, even with the blaze orange fingernail polish dabbed onto the front sight.
Here are two shots of the place I was headed.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v244/philcott/IMG_2800_zps833aa73c.jpg
This it a pick of the blow down on the top of the rock ridge. From experience I can tell you it's a tough pull getting over those pecker poles.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v244/philcott/IMG_2808_zpsead636f8.jpg
I hadn't gone more than 20 minutes of nice slow walking when, peaking over a fallen log was a big set of mule deer ears. I froze and stared for a moment before slowly lifting my binos to my eyes to double check that I had seen bone. Sure as your born there it was. Positive ID of a mule buck. Now, how to get into a firing position without spooking it. As I started to move to a stump I saw him turn and look for an out so I calmly raised my right arm and the buck grunt I have attached to it and gave a couple soft blows. He gave his tail a few slow flicks and seemed to think all was well. I now made the 6 foot move to the stump and laid prone behind it. Again the buck got concerned and moved behind a tree completely blocking any hope of a shot. I was all lined up and comfortable for the approximately 75 yard shot, now all I needed was for the deer to step out again. I gave two more grunts and he poked his head out. This is where I was starting to wish I had my scoped Remington 700 as it would have been an east head shot but what I had was what I hoped could soon be called my trusty 30-30. After a short staring contest the buck turned and started walking out of my line of sight so I thought what the hell and I gave three more grunts on my call. Son-of -a bitch, he turned and walked completely broadside and boom.............................
Buck down.