Hblazier3
FNG
As I sit here in an office, recovering from my shoulder surgery, itching to hop back into an excavator, I cant help but scroll back through my pictures of the fall. I often photo document everyday. I take pictures of the West Idaho sunrises with twinkling frost catching my eye on the stirrup tall grasses as I have my spotter set-up on a basin beneath a timber line. The mid day lunches, as I remember how sweaty and cold i was that day, the small fires on a rocky ledge to warm my toes up, and the florescent sunsets overlooking the skyline before an abrupt drop into Hells Canyon.
I reflect on any success and mistake i made, always catching myself giggle at some of my dumb-ass choices. Opening day of my general elk tag was exciting for me. I awoke at 4:30AM to turn my buddy heater on in my tent so I could throw my mixed bunch of first-kuiu-UA-Cabelas clothing on and get ready for the hunt. I had a nice little 5x5 bull i had scouted in the lower country that I had figured would suffice for my hunt. After tossing my bacon and eggs down my gizzard and doing a quick gear check, I hop in my F-350 to bust on out to my trail head to put my opening day bull to sleep. Picturing my grip n' grin with my 5x5 as i barrel down the pot holed gulch road, I get those pre-hunt butterflies. The same butterflies i would get before a rodeo, this is my substitute.
Approaching my trailhead which is just around the corner i noticed some red reflective lights. 1A plates. Bastards. My hunt plan is ruined. I gathetred up plan B. Always have a plan b, especially in these heavily hunted areas. About a 3 mile hike later i find a herd. At the same time, I'm glassing a couple of hunters on Honda ATV's a couple ridges over, knowing there is a chance they might either pursue them 1st, or get winded as they were not being very methodical as to where they were positioned. I knew I had to be agressive. Man, after a 45 minute long stalk to get myself into shooting range, I didnt find a single bull in the herd, meanwhile the ATV boys spooked the herd allowing me to watch, one by one, each and every elk go by me.
The coming days were full of examining my favorite country, eating shitty food on extraordinary landscapes, testing my body, and stretching my patience. Meanwhile I hunt elk in an extremely coveted mule deer unit, being able to appreciate some of Idaho's greatest mule deer is a pleasure. I head home empty handed with a bull, but luckily I was able to harvest a mature general season mule deer prior to the opening of my elk tag, but all on the same trip.
One thing I had been excited for was a buddies tag he drew (in said coveted mule deer unit). I get off work early on a friday to meet my buddy at camp to assist in a hunt only one could dream of. Biased, maybe. It just so happened to be the last day of my elk tag, so on my way up i decided to drop in for a hail mary hunt, with very low hope. I hopped out of the truck at around 4:45 with my trusty Idaho Shag Dog, slick. (I'm serious, very little hope, hence the dog). I bust up the trail to a vantage point, and low and behold, there is about 60 head of elk, with a nice mature 6x6, right where i would've imagined and about 700 yards away. Shit,Slick is with me. I'm telling you, I RAN a mile down that trail, let slick in the bed of the pickup and RAN my ass back up, gathered my Mystery Ranch pack and my .300 WBY and came up with a plan. The wind wasn't right and they were enjoying the sunshine on a knob where they had a view of about 280 degrees around them. I only have an hour of daylight left. Dipping off below a ridge and coming up from another area I was still in good view of the herd, but my wind was perfect. With caution, i proceeded to crawl on my hands and knees until I was 130 YDs away from the herd that had known something was definitely up. I set up, I aimed. Boiler room shot. I had never killed anything on the last day and the last minutes of the season. I have never experienced such an incredible, rewarding experience. It was a moment that assured me persistence will always pay off.
I reflect on any success and mistake i made, always catching myself giggle at some of my dumb-ass choices. Opening day of my general elk tag was exciting for me. I awoke at 4:30AM to turn my buddy heater on in my tent so I could throw my mixed bunch of first-kuiu-UA-Cabelas clothing on and get ready for the hunt. I had a nice little 5x5 bull i had scouted in the lower country that I had figured would suffice for my hunt. After tossing my bacon and eggs down my gizzard and doing a quick gear check, I hop in my F-350 to bust on out to my trail head to put my opening day bull to sleep. Picturing my grip n' grin with my 5x5 as i barrel down the pot holed gulch road, I get those pre-hunt butterflies. The same butterflies i would get before a rodeo, this is my substitute.
Approaching my trailhead which is just around the corner i noticed some red reflective lights. 1A plates. Bastards. My hunt plan is ruined. I gathetred up plan B. Always have a plan b, especially in these heavily hunted areas. About a 3 mile hike later i find a herd. At the same time, I'm glassing a couple of hunters on Honda ATV's a couple ridges over, knowing there is a chance they might either pursue them 1st, or get winded as they were not being very methodical as to where they were positioned. I knew I had to be agressive. Man, after a 45 minute long stalk to get myself into shooting range, I didnt find a single bull in the herd, meanwhile the ATV boys spooked the herd allowing me to watch, one by one, each and every elk go by me.
The coming days were full of examining my favorite country, eating shitty food on extraordinary landscapes, testing my body, and stretching my patience. Meanwhile I hunt elk in an extremely coveted mule deer unit, being able to appreciate some of Idaho's greatest mule deer is a pleasure. I head home empty handed with a bull, but luckily I was able to harvest a mature general season mule deer prior to the opening of my elk tag, but all on the same trip.
One thing I had been excited for was a buddies tag he drew (in said coveted mule deer unit). I get off work early on a friday to meet my buddy at camp to assist in a hunt only one could dream of. Biased, maybe. It just so happened to be the last day of my elk tag, so on my way up i decided to drop in for a hail mary hunt, with very low hope. I hopped out of the truck at around 4:45 with my trusty Idaho Shag Dog, slick. (I'm serious, very little hope, hence the dog). I bust up the trail to a vantage point, and low and behold, there is about 60 head of elk, with a nice mature 6x6, right where i would've imagined and about 700 yards away. Shit,Slick is with me. I'm telling you, I RAN a mile down that trail, let slick in the bed of the pickup and RAN my ass back up, gathered my Mystery Ranch pack and my .300 WBY and came up with a plan. The wind wasn't right and they were enjoying the sunshine on a knob where they had a view of about 280 degrees around them. I only have an hour of daylight left. Dipping off below a ridge and coming up from another area I was still in good view of the herd, but my wind was perfect. With caution, i proceeded to crawl on my hands and knees until I was 130 YDs away from the herd that had known something was definitely up. I set up, I aimed. Boiler room shot. I had never killed anything on the last day and the last minutes of the season. I have never experienced such an incredible, rewarding experience. It was a moment that assured me persistence will always pay off.
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