RustyRipper
02-12-2009, 06:11 PM
It was to be my first hunting trip up in the Peace country and like a kid before Christmas I hadn't been able to sleep a wink before departing on that cold November morning. I had hunted Blacktails near my home on Vancouver Island and on the Queen Charlotte Islands as well, but they were nothing compared to the monster Muleys and Giant Whitetails I'd always heard stories about and seen in pictures. Finally my chance had come when I was invited to come along on a Buffalo hunt with my friend and his family way up in Pink Mountain, BC. The Buffalo hunt in itself was a once in a lifetime hunt but all I could think of was bagging myself a big old north country buck. All the way along the fifteen hundred kilometer drive I had images in my head of a real racker with my name on it. It was late November and colder than I had ever experienced outside of an industrial freezer. There was already a foot of snow and twenty below Celsius temperatures but yet we saw more wildlife than I had ever seen! There were many Moose, Elk, Deer, Cariboo, Wolves and even Lynx!
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT5.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12832)
There was never a dull moment in that country; when we weren't spotting all kinds of game, or just enjoying the beautiful scenery, we were being hunted as well. While walking down a cut line through the timber towards the Halfway river, my friend and I were looking for Buffalo sign. Upon reaching the river and finding only old tracks we decided to turn back, only shortly to find that we had been followed. Inside our own tracks in the snow, were enormous wolf tracks. Almost instinctively we both chambered our rifles and began scanning our surroundings, but the timber around us was so thick and dark that a wolf could have been fifty yards away and we wouldn't have seen it. It's an uncomfortable feeling when the hair on your neck stands up and you feel as if you're being watched. Fortunately we didn't run into that wolf on our way back.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT1.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12831)
On another occasion, we hiked up into a large clearing just as the sun was beginning to show itself. In the dim lighting we could just make out the silouhettes of some rather large animals herded together and some bedded down. Before we could decide what they were, something behind them in the distance spooked them and they took off in our direction! It turned out to be a herd of elk that we counted to be 45 strong. So as the sun was just casting its first rays onto this field, we had a herd of elk running right in front of us not more than 50 yards away. I was in awe, and I will always remember that. The elusive Buffalo however had eluded us for 5 days before temperatures dropped to thirty below and hunting became next to impossible for us. We had seen a couple herds from a distance and even had a smaller herd come out of the dense timber about four hundred yards ahead of us, but spooked before we could even think of taking a shot.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT4.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12830)
So we decided to head south where temperatures where a little warmer, to hunt deer until it warmed up in Buffalo country. We decided to hunt just below Fort St. John where my friend and his family had come for many years.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT3.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12835)
Unfortunately two winters before had been a particularly harsh one, especially for deer. In some areas where people said they could once see a hundred deer in a field, now one would be lucky to see twenty. I knew that getting my buck would be just that much harder, but I was still optimistic. The first couple days we saw a few deer; mostly Muley does and the odd whitetail doe, I had a chance at a smaller three-point buck but passed on it, hoping for my monster. Each day that went by my hope began to slowly dwindle, but yet I never thought of giving up. Although I did start to wish I had taken that three-point. Finally I heard some good news to brighten my spirit: a local guy we talked to told us of a place he had seen an enormous buck worthy of B&C. Enough said. We were out that way before first light the next morning. I'm not sure if I have ever had my eyes open any wider in my life than I did looking for this buck in the dense timber. By late morning and after covering a lot of ground without seeing so much as a doe, we decided to get back to the truck and head back to our original grounds when my friend's dad suddenly had to relieve himself. We pulled over while he hopped out to do his business and he said “keep an eye out, you never know what might walk out”. My friend and I both grunted with indifference, clearly doubting that anything even lived in these woods. All of a sudden my eyes caught a glimpse of a movement on the right side of the forest ahead of us. I couldn't believe my eyes when a monstrous Mule deer walked out not more than a hundred and fifty yards away. His rack was truly magnificent and after a quick look through my binos I was wrestling to pull my rifle out of the truck. I had total buck fever as I walked ahead of the truck and raised my trusty Ruger. I was shaking so badly I couldn't even find the buck's body for a second and without any rest whatsoever I really was not confident in myself making that shot. By the time I had scrambled out of the truck, chambered my rifle and put it to my shoulder, the huge buck had slowly walked across the road and dissapeared into the forest. Just my luck. Trying to track the buck proved to be utterly hopeless on such a quiet, windless day in the semi-frozen snow. Again I spent another restless night buckless and dreaming of things I should have done.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT2.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12834)
The next morning we went back to some fields where we had seen a good amount of does and a couple bucks worth shooting, so we started there. My hopes weren't so high but I was persistent as always. As the sun was just beginning to rise we spotted a nice Muley buck with a small harem of does about a half mile away. He was a 3x3 but a fairly tall and wide rack and he had nice body mass. I watched him for a minute or two before saying out loud “that's my buck”. We had seen him before on land we couldn't hunt; an older bruiser with a limp, probably from a previous battle. I left my companions and took cover in a coolie that bordered the edge of the field. The deer were moving so I watched them as they dissapeared in the same coolie that I was in but much farther down. There was another field on the other side of it with many game trails connecting the two so I figured they were headed there. I walked as silently as I could along the poplars while keeping an eye out for any movement. I came to one of the major game trails and decided to risk a peek out into the field. As I walked slowly towards the edge, I caught a flash of brown out of my right eye and turned to see five does trotting out into the field and wouldn't you know my limping buck wasn't too far behind them. But that had meant that we had passed by each other without even knowing it! I didn't dwell long on that thought as he was getting farther away with each step. I took a knee and rested my rifle on my other knee, then quickly put my cross hairs just behind his front shoulder. I judged the shot at about two hundred yards and accounted for it. I blew a quick doe call to try and stop him but to my surprise he didn't give me so much as a quick glance. Either he was too busy chasing his does or else the jig was up, either way I didn't waste any time squeezing my trigger. The report from my .270 echoed off the nearby hills and the buck fell. I let out a huge sigh of relief and then shouted out loud some words of joy. As I walked out into the field I was shaking with excitement. By the time I reached my buck I was huffing and puffing but I was anxious to get a good look at him. I was in absolute disbelief at how huge this deer was, keeping in mind that I am used to Island blacktail deer, in comparison this might as well have been a horse. He was no trophy buck like the one I had seen in the woods but I was happy just the same.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT7.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12838)
Then the reality set in when I had to drag this 200 plus pound animal through a foot of snow by myself back to the coolie then to the other side where the farm road was. My lungs were burning, my arms and legs ached and yet I couldn't have been any happier. I had to look around at the beautiful place where I was and the beautiful buck I had taken and take it all in.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT8.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12839)
What a wonderful adventure, and my only regret was having to end it. On our way back down south I had lots of time to reflect on the trip and I had come to realize that I was now hooked. I knew I would be back up there next year and probably every year after that. I consider myself very lucky to live in such a beautiful place where one can still have such adventures. Long may it be so!
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT5.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12832)
There was never a dull moment in that country; when we weren't spotting all kinds of game, or just enjoying the beautiful scenery, we were being hunted as well. While walking down a cut line through the timber towards the Halfway river, my friend and I were looking for Buffalo sign. Upon reaching the river and finding only old tracks we decided to turn back, only shortly to find that we had been followed. Inside our own tracks in the snow, were enormous wolf tracks. Almost instinctively we both chambered our rifles and began scanning our surroundings, but the timber around us was so thick and dark that a wolf could have been fifty yards away and we wouldn't have seen it. It's an uncomfortable feeling when the hair on your neck stands up and you feel as if you're being watched. Fortunately we didn't run into that wolf on our way back.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT1.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12831)
On another occasion, we hiked up into a large clearing just as the sun was beginning to show itself. In the dim lighting we could just make out the silouhettes of some rather large animals herded together and some bedded down. Before we could decide what they were, something behind them in the distance spooked them and they took off in our direction! It turned out to be a herd of elk that we counted to be 45 strong. So as the sun was just casting its first rays onto this field, we had a herd of elk running right in front of us not more than 50 yards away. I was in awe, and I will always remember that. The elusive Buffalo however had eluded us for 5 days before temperatures dropped to thirty below and hunting became next to impossible for us. We had seen a couple herds from a distance and even had a smaller herd come out of the dense timber about four hundred yards ahead of us, but spooked before we could even think of taking a shot.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT4.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12830)
So we decided to head south where temperatures where a little warmer, to hunt deer until it warmed up in Buffalo country. We decided to hunt just below Fort St. John where my friend and his family had come for many years.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT3.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12835)
Unfortunately two winters before had been a particularly harsh one, especially for deer. In some areas where people said they could once see a hundred deer in a field, now one would be lucky to see twenty. I knew that getting my buck would be just that much harder, but I was still optimistic. The first couple days we saw a few deer; mostly Muley does and the odd whitetail doe, I had a chance at a smaller three-point buck but passed on it, hoping for my monster. Each day that went by my hope began to slowly dwindle, but yet I never thought of giving up. Although I did start to wish I had taken that three-point. Finally I heard some good news to brighten my spirit: a local guy we talked to told us of a place he had seen an enormous buck worthy of B&C. Enough said. We were out that way before first light the next morning. I'm not sure if I have ever had my eyes open any wider in my life than I did looking for this buck in the dense timber. By late morning and after covering a lot of ground without seeing so much as a doe, we decided to get back to the truck and head back to our original grounds when my friend's dad suddenly had to relieve himself. We pulled over while he hopped out to do his business and he said “keep an eye out, you never know what might walk out”. My friend and I both grunted with indifference, clearly doubting that anything even lived in these woods. All of a sudden my eyes caught a glimpse of a movement on the right side of the forest ahead of us. I couldn't believe my eyes when a monstrous Mule deer walked out not more than a hundred and fifty yards away. His rack was truly magnificent and after a quick look through my binos I was wrestling to pull my rifle out of the truck. I had total buck fever as I walked ahead of the truck and raised my trusty Ruger. I was shaking so badly I couldn't even find the buck's body for a second and without any rest whatsoever I really was not confident in myself making that shot. By the time I had scrambled out of the truck, chambered my rifle and put it to my shoulder, the huge buck had slowly walked across the road and dissapeared into the forest. Just my luck. Trying to track the buck proved to be utterly hopeless on such a quiet, windless day in the semi-frozen snow. Again I spent another restless night buckless and dreaming of things I should have done.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT2.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12834)
The next morning we went back to some fields where we had seen a good amount of does and a couple bucks worth shooting, so we started there. My hopes weren't so high but I was persistent as always. As the sun was just beginning to rise we spotted a nice Muley buck with a small harem of does about a half mile away. He was a 3x3 but a fairly tall and wide rack and he had nice body mass. I watched him for a minute or two before saying out loud “that's my buck”. We had seen him before on land we couldn't hunt; an older bruiser with a limp, probably from a previous battle. I left my companions and took cover in a coolie that bordered the edge of the field. The deer were moving so I watched them as they dissapeared in the same coolie that I was in but much farther down. There was another field on the other side of it with many game trails connecting the two so I figured they were headed there. I walked as silently as I could along the poplars while keeping an eye out for any movement. I came to one of the major game trails and decided to risk a peek out into the field. As I walked slowly towards the edge, I caught a flash of brown out of my right eye and turned to see five does trotting out into the field and wouldn't you know my limping buck wasn't too far behind them. But that had meant that we had passed by each other without even knowing it! I didn't dwell long on that thought as he was getting farther away with each step. I took a knee and rested my rifle on my other knee, then quickly put my cross hairs just behind his front shoulder. I judged the shot at about two hundred yards and accounted for it. I blew a quick doe call to try and stop him but to my surprise he didn't give me so much as a quick glance. Either he was too busy chasing his does or else the jig was up, either way I didn't waste any time squeezing my trigger. The report from my .270 echoed off the nearby hills and the buck fell. I let out a huge sigh of relief and then shouted out loud some words of joy. As I walked out into the field I was shaking with excitement. By the time I reached my buck I was huffing and puffing but I was anxious to get a good look at him. I was in absolute disbelief at how huge this deer was, keeping in mind that I am used to Island blacktail deer, in comparison this might as well have been a horse. He was no trophy buck like the one I had seen in the woods but I was happy just the same.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT7.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12838)
Then the reality set in when I had to drag this 200 plus pound animal through a foot of snow by myself back to the coolie then to the other side where the farm road was. My lungs were burning, my arms and legs ached and yet I couldn't have been any happier. I had to look around at the beautiful place where I was and the beautiful buck I had taken and take it all in.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/HT8.JPG (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12839)
What a wonderful adventure, and my only regret was having to end it. On our way back down south I had lots of time to reflect on the trip and I had come to realize that I was now hooked. I knew I would be back up there next year and probably every year after that. I consider myself very lucky to live in such a beautiful place where one can still have such adventures. Long may it be so!