| Antelope
Pronghorns On Oregon's High Desert By Jack Elbert |
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| In
Oregon, taking an antelope is generally easier than securing
an antelope tag. So, when I planned my hunts in 1993 the
possibility of getting an antelope tag the same week as a
Nevada deer tag didn't seem to be such a big deal. That is,
until I found myself with both tags and the seasons opening on
the same day. The Nevada hunt included Norm Holiday, his son Ray, and Bruce Ulmer. When I told them of my good fortune, Norm said, "You have to go hunt antelope. You've no choice. We will wait a couple of days and meet you in Nevada." The area I would hunt antelope was a private little hole in the Steens Mountains that I call my "Secret Spot". We would have to pack in over five miles with "Ruby the Mule". We left the Blazer Friday morning with Bruce tagging along to provide me safe company. I can and will hunt alone, but prefer to do "the smart thing". We left the truck about 8:45 am. By 2:00 p.m. we had made camp and were climbing to the top of a small peak to do some glassing. Just as we eased our way tot he top of the peak we jumped a nice mule deer buck. He in turn spooked three bull elk that were bedded on the next slope. We watched them as they ran away looking over their shoulders. |
We
set up the spotting scope, brought out our binoculars and
began the process of locating as many buck antelope as we
could before darkness set in. It took less than five minutes
for Bruce to spot the first antelope. Not long after that I
located another nice buck, and while we were watching him I
spotted four bighorn sheep rams in the next canyon. I had seen
sheep in this canyon before so I wasn't too surprised. Bruce
was thrilled; he hadn't seen many sheep before. It was about an hour later when we located a very large herd of antelope in a small, hidden dry lake. There were so many animals that we quit counting after 20. They were also so far away that we couldn't judge the size of the buck. The sun was getting low so we decided it was time to get a closer look at the big herd. This country is relatively flat until you reach the edges of the rims. But every now and then there is a small outcropping of rock that provides the hunter with a comfortable viewpoint. It was from one of these that we spotted the buck I decided I would make my own. He wasn't even close to record book size. He was simply the most "Macho" male on the mountain. His herd was the largest group of does I had ever seen under one buck's command, 30 animals in all. |
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His horns were very distinctive, well shaped and wide
spreading. From the side view they looked rather short, but
when he faced you they reached well to the sides. It took a
lot of studying to realize they also sported a good length of
ivory at the tips.
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Then I spotted a herd of antelope back in the direction of
camp. "There they are!" I tried to whisper, but I'm sure it
was louder than I wanted. We studied them until it got light
enough to make a safe stalk. We also wanted to determine the
direction in which they were feeding. We left the top of the rocks and worked our way down to the last two trees. Bruce would wait and watch from there. Lining up the two trees with the herd, I slowly crept out to the last cover. The antelope were grazing in a small depression that we hadn't noticed from our elevated stand. This was a big help since they had spread out a little in the meantime. By the time I made the last tree my hands were shaking from the excitement of the hunt. I had to find a rest in order to hold the gun steady. Unfortunately, the rest was just a little bit too high to be "steady". From only 125 yards I missed the buck entirely. The antelope weren't spooked at the shot, but they did look right at me and began to bunch up. I rushed the second shot, but felt it was good anyway. After recovering from the recoil I watched as the entire herd raced toward the rising sun. They went behind a few small junipers and when they came out the other side the buck was missing. We followed their tracks and found the buck dead behind the bushy junipers. It was 30 minutes into my hunt and my buck was down. We took the customary photos just as the sun cleared the end of the rim. It was only 400 yards to camp and Ruby. We finished removing the tape and boning out the buck in camp. We arrived back at the truck at 2:45 p.m., just 30 hours after leaving it.
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Ducks By Bill Monroe Hunter and writer Bill Monroe recounts several of his most memorable duck hunting trips around the state: Summer Lake, Nehalem, Albany, Scappoose, and Forest Grove. |
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SUMMER LAKE
- Leaves whisper anxiously across the graveled driveway, swept
by the same wind ruffling the feathers of thousands of
roosting ducks somewhere out there in the pre-dawn darkness.
Hunters, huddled together against the desert chill, wait
for the window to open at the Summer Lake Wildlife Area
southeast of Bend. Some have been in the line for hours. More
are still arriving after an all night drive from distant homes
in the Willamette Valley. |
In early
October, the season's first day is marked by hundreds of
hunters and thousands of ducks. Out on the marsh, campers in
three graveled lots, each the size of a football field, arise
and gulp coffee. Most are too pumped to eat. Two hours before
sunrise, the parade begins. Like fire flies, lines of
flashlights snake across the marsh's dikes, hunting parties
dropping off one by one in favorite spots. A single red light on the roof of headquarters can be seen across a space nearly the size of Rhode Island. It's timed to turn off half an hour before dawn, the official start of shooting time.
Ducks are already flying head high above the dikes when
it abruptly dims. There is a three-second pause, then a shot.
And another. |
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