Wyoming Smokepole Pronghorn

[Randy Newberg]

The last week was as much fun as a guy could ask for. I got the chance to take my buddy, Jim Baichtal, to do something I love; chase pronghorn. Some of you probably recognize Jim as the guy who smoked, full pun intended, this great Sitka Blacktail in the episode at the link below.

[video=youtube_share;cvLGuAl0Xs8]https://youtu.be/cvLGuAl0Xs8[/video]

Jim knew Sitka Blacktails was one of my life dreams. Since he is a renowned expert on hunting them, when he offered for me to join his 2015 hunt, I stammered and stuttered as I tried to say "Yes" without showing my excitement to hunt Sitka Blacktails with "the Man" himself.

Roll the calendar forward a couple years. Jim has always wanted to take a nice pronghorn with his traditional custom-made .58 Caliber Hawken muzzleloader. I told him it would be my pleasure to take him to some part of the west I have chased them. Jim had been told by many that he needed to sit water if he was to kill one at 100 yards, or less. I disagreed and convinced him to apply in a good Wyoming unit.

When the Wyoming draw results came in, our excitement was tempered, as the day prior his wife was diagnosed with breast cancer. That being the highest priority one could imagine, I cancelled our return Sitka Blacktail hunt and told Jim to forget about our idea to film me, Jim, and Tyler (cameraman) each using a different weapon; rifle, Hawken, and bow. Jim apologized for the big change this created in our filming calendar. I assured him that this hunt was not in the top 1,000 concerns he needs to worry about and to do whatever was necessary to help his wife get through what was sure to be a bad couple months.

We stayed in touch during the chemo treatments, mostly to provide encouragement and some distraction by talking about the Sitka Blacktail hunt we have now deferred until next August. Jim stated his wife was adamant that she would be good enough for him to go on the Wyoming antelope hunt in late September. I would humor him by considering it, but never expected it to happen.

A couple weeks ago, Jim called to confirm that the hunt was on. His wife was now back home, showing the amazing fortitude that I have come to learn is woven in her DNA. Pushing Jim out the door to catch a ferry, her parting comment as something to the affect, "Don't shoot the first one you see."

Jim landed in Bozeman on Sunday. We packed and were on the road before daylight on Monday, giving us a chance to get checked into our motel and spend the late afternoon/evening scouring the area Jim had drawn. Lots of bucks glassed, but nothing to get excited about. Did allow for a few "fake stalks" with Jim and the camera guy, Michael, to coordinate how they would get within 100 yards in the short sage of this unit. An evening dinner with Eli and Tony Grimmett was equally disconcerting when they told me how the normally great units where they find big bucks were a struggle this year. They had not been in Jim's unit, so they had no input to give on buck quality this year, other than some general parts of the unit where they had seen good bucks in years past. Dang, not the news I hoped for and seemed to confirm what we had seen that afternoon.

The next morning had us out as the sun was rising, white pronghorn butts decorating the landscape in numbers that had Jim shaking his head. We stopped and looked at every single buck, doing so from multiple angles to make sure we weren't writing off a good buck that could fake us out from the wrong angle. That made for slow progress when there are this many bucks. Footage of animals will not be a problem in this unit.

By the time the heat waves started disrupting the focus of optics, Jim had located a buck with nice prongs high on his horns. The only way to see if he was "Big Hank" was to hike down into that bottom and get a close look. And we did. When Jim and Michael split off from my location for the potential stalk, the buck stood and came closer to my position for the purposes of posturing to another buck. I got a much better look at him. My first thought was, "Jim, do not shoot this buck. He is tall and thin, with only some high prongs to make him look better than he is."

Jim and Michael got to 70 yards. Seeing him to be less than some bucks we had already passed, Jim drew his muzzleloader only for the sake of aiming practice, not even drawing back the hammer. Whew, I thought he was going to shoot.

The rest of the day was spent investigating new areas. A couple more stalks produced no shot or no buck worth shooting on the first full day of the hunt. Jim was having a blast, not ever being in antelope country during the peak rut. I was having as much fun as he was. That even we were burning fast miles, using the last light to inspect some basins that held herds, only giving them cursory inspection for the purpose of starting there the next morning. I did put the spotter up on a group that had what I thought was an exceptional buck with big prongs and very good length. At the final minutes of light, it was hard to tell with complete certainty, but gave us the starting location for the next morning.

 

[Randy Newberg]

Rising for coffee and doughnuts, we were back on the BLM roads, kicking up dust in the morning dawn as we raced toward the basins filled with animals the night before. I knew we were driving by some herds, but the prior afternoon we had inspected most of those with the benefit of more light. I wanted to get further back and take advantage of the morning light at our backs and the fact that antelope are usually on their feet the first two or three hours of morning.

Arriving there, we saw the big herds. At least three bucks warranted closer inspection. We drove down an old gas road with some recent UTV tracks. Dang, maybe someone beat us to the punch. On our way, a very nice buck stood below and begged us to make him a TV star. He was a very nice buck. I told Jim he could do a lot worse, but it was not the buck I glassed the night before. Jim waited for the herd to graze out of sight, then grabbed his rifle and told Michael to follow him. I had no idea if he intended to shoot the buck, but figured this task was difficult enough with a camera guy in tow, so the last thing he needed was another body to add more movement. I stayed at the truck and glassed the distant herds.

This stalk was taking longer than I expected. I wondered if they had found a good set up. I wondered even more if Jim found the buck to be worthwhile. I retreated to the truck to get my onX system dialed up, hoping to find a way to get above the back end of this basin where more antelope were appearing and disappearing.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, I noticed something in my side-view mirror. Two does were crossing behind me about 150 yards. This Titan is an animal magnet. No matter where I park it, critters seem to walk right past.

I watched the does stroll out of my mirror’s view. No more had they disappeared and a buck followed their path. Having the window down, I turned back over my left shoulder to glass what he might be. I silently mumbled some profanity while he refused to lift his head for my inspection. Patience, Randy, patience.

Finally, the buck finished his scrape and while squatting down to pee in the new dirt, showed his horns. My swearing turned to, “Holy crap, he looks a lot like the buck from last night. This angle must be faking me out.”

He disappeared in a sharp cut about 200 yards out, giving me a chance to sneak out and grab the spotter I had left near the back of the truck. The does, now off 300+ yards, watched me, waiting for the buck to come out of the drainage and escort them to wherever they were going.

Pretty soon the buck appeared, walking straight away. Dang, hard to tell from this angle. His prongs curve way in, for sure.

Reaching where one of the does has peed, he stopped and surveyed the landscape for competition, sky lining his horns. A 60x spotter at 300 yards provides some serious opportunity for inspection. I pulled away from the spotter, thinking the close distance made the buck look way bigger than he was. Looking through my binos, he looked huge. Back to the spotter, I started doing some quick math.

This buck was surely going to net in the all-time B&C book and who know how high in the muzzleloader book. Looking down the ridge where Jim disappeared, I started praying that Jim’s stalk had went awry and this buck would stick around to be a TV star. My hopes were sinking as the buck followed his does out of sight, heading west into the next part of this basin, looking bigger and bigger with every angle he gave.

The buck had been out of sight for about a half hour when Jim and Michael returned. Jim was smiling big, happy to have gotten close to a buck and a dozen does, only to have some other bucks move in on the does inciting the buck to chase them off and get way out of range.

I think Jim may have thought I was manufacturing my excitement of what had transpired in his absence. I gave him my best, “Trust me on this one. You want to shoot the buck I just glassed.” Seeing the pace in my effort to locate the best way to relocate this buck, Jim became convinced I was not feigning excitement. I told him, “There are some things in life to joke about; joking about a big pronghorn nearby is not one of those things.”

 

[Randy Newberg]

We turned the truck around and cut a hard right on a gas road that traversed a ridge dissecting this big basin. I parked, pointing to Jim my best guess of where they were headed, which turned out to be in the direction of a big pond I could not see from our prior parking spot. I suggested we ease to where the basin rim formed and slowly cover the entire basin below us, using the slightly taller greasewood to hide our approach.

I grabbed my spotter and eased forward. Jim followed, though leaving his rifle in the truck. Michael filmed as we sneaked. Reaching the few greasewood, I could see antelope far off, but nothing the spotter showed to be the buck I just drooled over. I turned to Jim and shrugged, indicating we would take a few more steps forward to reveal the closer parts that rolled away under this rim. I made a couple steps when I saw a buck looking up at us. My binos instantly showed the curved in prongs and horns arching back. I dropped down and told Jim the buck was about 175 yards out and below.

We agreed he needed to sneak forward to inspect the buck for himself. Using some greasewood for cover, he moved right a couple steps and raised his binos. I hope Michael was filming his expression as he turned toward us with confirmation that he wanted to shoot this buck.

Now what to do. The buck has us pegged. We retreated to strategize while out of view of the buck. We had a cow decoy. I told Jim that works about 5.0% of the time when a buck already has you nailed. Jim asked what the odds are of a buck moving back around the corner where he traveled to get here, putting him in the small coulee when I first glassed him. I told him probably 5.1%.

Jim like the 5.1% odds better than the 5.0% odds and suggested we do that. I told him I had a plan that was close to 100% odds at 175 yards. I had my Howa 7mm-.08 in the truck a couple hundred yards away and if he snuck up to the rim edge, that buck would be his. He wrinkled his nose, saying, “Nothing against Howa, but I didn’t travel this far to leave my Hawken in the truck.”

So with that, the plan was made. Jim and Michael would go set up in the highest low sage along the trail the buck had traveled to get here. I would circle a few hundred yards to the south and make an appearance on the skyline in hopes to push the buck directly back from where came. I would give them 20 minutes to set up. Plans always sound better in theory.

With the allotted time expired, I circled south, only to see another nice buck coming to the rim edge where we had just been. The buck moved forward to look closer. I moved forward to start my approach, only to see a doe move up the ridge toward this buck. Before I had hardly focused my binos, the buck we wanted raced up the hill to protect his doe from the intruder, forcing her and another doe further down into the basin and across a ridge three-quarter mile out. If there is such a thing as too many bucks, this must be what it looks like.

Jim and Michael returned to the truck with puzzled looks as to what happened. I gave a recount. We moved to a higher knob in hopes to find the buck and his two does. A half hour of searching did just that. About a mile north, in a patch of green, the buck was easily distinguished from his smaller rivals. A plan was crafted to use the cover of a ridge and sneak down to a position where we might intercept them moving east along a washed-out bottom.

An hour later we were in position. Jim leading the way and looking over the sage for the buck and does we knew had to be somewhere nearby. Sneak, look. Sneak, look. Only interruption of the process was Michael putting his knee on the edge of a prickly pear. It could have been much worse for him. Bet he doesn’t take the knee pads out of his Timberline Pants on the next antelope hunt.

Eventually we have covered the entire was. No antelope awaited us. Somehow, when we were out of their sight, they moved. I looked at Jim with the, “Such is how it goes” expression. He agreed. We heckled Michael on the hike back to the truck, explaining that knee pads have a purpose; hunting in sharp rocks and cactus being one of them.

I explained to Jim how antelope are very habitual and will often follow the same scrape lines during the rut. If we went back to the truck and got to a high point, odds are we would find the buck somewhere and could plot a strategy for what to do. Jim agreed and we put it in “swift and fast” toward the truck now parked where it had been when I saw the buck in my side view mirror.

 

[Randy Newberg]

Nearing the truck a couple does trotted off. Resting my pack on the tailgate, Jim said a good buck was just across from us. His next comment was filled with too many colorful words to use in video, but suffice to say, the buck was standing within 100 yards of where I had first seen him that morning. He was looking right at us. He turned and ran to catch his does that were now moving across the bottom over to the bench that forms the north side of the pond.

“Dang it, how did they make that big of a circle?” Really, who cares how. Be thankful that we relocated him so quickly this day.

We watched as the buck picked up two more does, raising his harem to four does. They milled across an open hillside, giving no cover to use and using the wind as a defense against an approach from above. All we could do was sit and watch, hoping they bedded somewhere.

We moved the truck to the location we were parked earlier, using the same greasewood to hide our approach, watching him and his does slowly move back toward the basin we had first tried to stalk/push him this morning. It seemed like forever, but within twenty minutes, the buck had cut two of the four does from the group and was pushing them back into the basin below us. Jim and I looked at each other and both smiled, not believing our luck would hold long enough for the buck to come within shooting range.

Jim suggested I keep an eye on the buck while he and Michael used a very slight cut to move out toward the prairie dog colony where the buck had been standing earlier. Not sure of the strategy, but trusting Jim had done many stalks with his Hawken, I nodded in agreement, but not before again offering him the use of my Howa. He just smiled and slapped the butt plate on his Hawken, then turning to execute whatever crazy plan this might be.

They circled north around the rim, dropping down a couple hundred yards to my right. The three antelope had now crossed the bottom and were feeding about 500 yards out. I was not sure if Jim could see them, but when he ran out of cover and dropped to the ground, it was obvious he saw them. He had not closed much distance, maybe 150 yards. And looking at his orange vest and hat, followed by a camera guy with a big lens and backpack, this looked impossible.

I eased down lower into the greasewood, laying on my stomach while parting enough limbs to see what the crew was doing and how the antelope procession was coming. None of it looked promising. The herd bedded in the bottom where they had full view of most anything approaching from all directions. Jim and Michael eased forward about twenty yards, trying to find a slightly deeper spot within the cover of a half-dozen heavily grazed greasewood plants. What was as good as could be found between them and the antelope.

I continued to watch as the guys talked some sort of strategy. The buck bedded while the does took turns bedding while the other would feed. I looked down and saw Jim on his back, sun beating down on him, hat over his face, looking like a sleeping hunter. Nothing I could do and the sun was intense.

I decided to retreat in the event the antelope saw me on the rim line. Last thing I wanted was to blow Jim’s chance, however remote that chance might be. I crawled back to the truck, finding shade on the north side, where I proceeded to use my pack for a pillow and take a great afternoon nap.

I cannot provide details of what happened over the next ninety minutes, as I was alternating between napping and filming video clips of my doubt that this buck was in any danger. While filming one of the segments I heard the unmistakable Hawken sound of “Chh…Ffffboooum…..whomp” with the percussion cap igniting the black powder and a very large .58 caliber round ball striking something.

I sat upright. WTF? You gotta be kidding me? With spotter in one hand, Nikon super zoom in the other, I duck walked to the greasewoods. I parted to see Jim down below and to my right, reloading his Hawken while trying to stay prone. I turned left and saw a really good buck, though not the buck we had been chasing, heading off with a group of does.

“Damn it, that buck was a shooter, but he surely looks unharmed.” My attention turned to another does standing broadside maybe 250 yards, looking down at something. I grabbed the spotter to inspect for the focus of her attention. Holy crap, the big buck is still in the basin and he is bedded behind a bush next to the doe.

I could see him moving his head. What the hell happened? Eventually the doe trotted off with the other big buck and his does. The buck we had been chasing got up and tried to follow. He didn’t look good. The spotter showed a bleeding wound behind the last rib at perfect elevation. He turned to walk straight away from Jim and Michael, making him broadside to me and showing blood dripping from an exit wound further forward. Hot damn, it must have been a quartering shot, maybe slightly back.

I watched as the buck bedded again, laying his head flat on the ground. Jim used the opportunity to sneak to 30 yards. As the buck stood, Jim finished his work, somehow completing one of the most remarkable stalks and demonstrations of patience I’ve ever witnessed.

According to Jim, Michael, and the footage, over the course of two hours the does and our targeted buck fed toward them, eventually mixing with the other big buck and his does. A doe circled north, taking them 100 yards within Jim’s position. It happened fast. Jim rose to the sitting position while simultaneously bracing his Hawken with his Mystery Ranch Longbow, firing all in one motion as the buck moved across left to right.

To say we did a happy dance would be an understatement. Jim earned this buck. I am as happy for him as I have ever been for any of the animals I have taken. Hopefully when he gets home from the medical treatments of his wife and he gets caught up on his work duties he can chime in and retell the final two hours. Reviewing the video makes me think this will be our best ever antelope hunt and one of our top episodes of all time.


A fitting end; great hunt for a a great buck, shared with a great friend. And, I suspect a welcome relief from the real life worries the last few months have been for Jim and his wife. Some people truly appreciate an experience for all it is. Jim is one of those guys. Thanks, Jim. (wish I was smart enough to get images to show up full size)
View attachment 58541

 

[WV Mountaineer]

Top notch story. Looking forward to seeing the video as well. Thanks for sharing and God Bless

 

[Griz34]

That's an awesome write up Randy. Thanks for taking the time to share it. I only wish I could see the picture!

 

[Hectocotylus]

Great write up, thanks for sharing.


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[danmayland]

Sounds like an amazing hunt. Can't beat it when it all comes together!! Can't wait to see pics!!


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[Journeyman]

Holy hell, Damn fine job of putting pen to paper, or keys to a screen I guess.

I’m going out to the 700 district next weekend for my first antelope hunt. Not that I needed any help but that story fired me up even more, thanks for sharing.

 

[bowieknife50]

Great story

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[danmayland]

Nearing the truck a couple does trotted off. Resting my pack on the tailgate, Jim said a good buck was just across from us. His next comment was filled with too many colorful words to use in video, but suffice to say, the buck was standing within 100 yards of where I had first seen him that morning. He was looking right at us. He turned and ran to catch his does that were now moving across the bottom over to the bench that forms the north side of the pond.

“Dang it, how did they make that big of a circle?” Really, who cares how. Be thankful that we relocated him so quickly this day.

We watched as the buck picked up two more does, raising his harem to four does. They milled across an open hillside, giving no cover to use and using the wind as a defense against an approach from above. All we could do was sit and watch, hoping they bedded somewhere.

We moved the truck to the location we were parked earlier, using the same greasewood to hide our approach, watching him and his does slowly move back toward the basin we had first tried to stalk/push him this morning. It seemed like forever, but within twenty minutes, the buck had cut two of the four does from the group and was pushing them back into the basin below us. Jim and I looked at each other and both smiled, not believing our luck would hold long enough for the buck to come within shooting range.

Jim suggested I keep an eye on the buck while he and Michael used a very slight cut to move out toward the prairie dog colony where the buck had been standing earlier. Not sure of the strategy, but trusting Jim had done many stalks with his Hawken, I nodded in agreement, but not before again offering him the use of my Howa. He just smiled and slapped the butt plate on his Hawken, then turning to execute whatever crazy plan this might be.

They circled north around the rim, dropping down a couple hundred yards to my right. The three antelope had now crossed the bottom and were feeding about 500 yards out. I was not sure if Jim could see them, but when he ran out of cover and dropped to the ground, it was obvious he saw them. He had not closed much distance, maybe 150 yards. And looking at his orange vest and hat, followed by a camera guy with a big lens and backpack, this looked impossible.

I eased down lower into the greasewood, laying on my stomach while parting enough limbs to see what the crew was doing and how the antelope procession was coming. None of it looked promising. The herd bedded in the bottom where they had full view of most anything approaching from all directions. Jim and Michael eased forward about twenty yards, trying to find a slightly deeper spot within the cover of a half-dozen heavily grazed greasewood plants. What was as good as could be found between them and the antelope.

I continued to watch as the guys talked some sort of strategy. The buck bedded while the does took turns bedding while the other would feed. I looked down and saw Jim on his back, sun beating down on him, hat over his face, looking like a sleeping hunter. Nothing I could do and the sun was intense.

I decided to retreat in the event the antelope saw me on the rim line. Last thing I wanted was to blow Jim’s chance, however remote that chance might be. I crawled back to the truck, finding shade on the north side, where I proceeded to use my pack for a pillow and take a great afternoon nap.

I cannot provide details of what happened over the next ninety minutes, as I was alternating between napping and filming video clips of my doubt that this buck was in any danger. While filming one of the segments I heard the unmistakable Hawken sound of “Chh…Ffffboooum…..whomp” with the percussion cap igniting the black powder and a very large .58 caliber round ball striking something.

I sat upright. WTF? You gotta be kidding me? With spotter in one hand, Nikon super zoom in the other, I duck walked to the greasewoods. I parted to see Jim down below and to my right, reloading his Hawken while trying to stay prone. I turned left and saw a really good buck, though not the buck we had been chasing, heading off with a group of does.

“Damn it, that buck was a shooter, but he surely looks unharmed.” My attention turned to another does standing broadside maybe 250 yards, looking down at something. I grabbed the spotter to inspect for the focus of her attention. Holy crap, the big buck is still in the basin and he is bedded behind a bush next to the doe.

I could see him moving his head. What the hell happened? Eventually the doe trotted off with the other big buck and his does. The buck we had been chasing got up and tried to follow. He didn’t look good. The spotter showed a bleeding wound behind the last rib at perfect elevation. He turned to walk straight away from Jim and Michael, making him broadside to me and showing blood dripping from an exit wound further forward. Hot damn, it must have been a quartering shot, maybe slightly back.

I watched as the buck bedded again, laying his head flat on the ground. Jim used the opportunity to sneak to 30 yards. As the buck stood, Jim finished his work, somehow completing one of the most remarkable stalks and demonstrations of patience I’ve ever witnessed.

According to Jim, Michael, and the footage, over the course of two hours the does and our targeted buck fed toward them, eventually mixing with the other big buck and his does. A doe circled north, taking them 100 yards within Jim’s position. It happened fast. Jim rose to the sitting position while simultaneously bracing his Hawken with his Mystery Ranch Longbow, firing all in one motion as the buck moved across left to right.

To say we did a happy dance would be an understatement. Jim earned this buck. I am as happy for him as I have ever been for any of the animals I have taken. Hopefully when he gets home from the medical treatments of his wife and he gets caught up on his work duties he can chime in and retell the final two hours. Reviewing the video makes me think this will be our best ever antelope hunt and one of our top episodes of all time.


A fitting end; great hunt for a a great buck, shared with a great friend. And, I suspect a welcome relief from the real life worries the last few months have been for Jim and his wife. Some people truly appreciate an experience for all it is. Jim is one of those guys. Thanks, Jim. (wish I was smart enough to get images to show up full size)
View attachment 58541

We need pics here Randy!!! Your killing us smalls!!!

The link you posed is dead.


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[PAbow84]

Awesome story! Makes me want to give it a try. Ready to see some pictures of this thing.

 

[Randy Newberg]

Still can't get the photos to show up, but we now have the day-by-day videos from this hunt edited and up on our YouTube channel. Day 1 is here:

[video=youtube_share;F5Us0lfazB4]https://youtu.be/F5Us0lfazB4[/video]

 

[Randy Newberg]

Day 2:
[video=youtube_share;URALeok5a_k]https://youtu.be/URALeok5a_k[/video]

 

[Vrybusy]

Great story, great video! Keep up the good work Randy!

 

[Randy Newberg]

Day 3 - A great hunter puts an amazing stalk on an amazing pronghorn buck.
[video=youtube_share;XkJn-MXnYGc]https://youtu.be/XkJn-MXnYGc[/video]

 

[Tod osier]

Thanks Randy, my son and I watched the hunt and the video was put together in such a way to capture the excitement of the stalk for my son. Really engaged him (I enjoyed it too).