B.C. Government Allows Hunters To Shoot Feral Pigs Anywhere At Anytime

© By Othmar Vohringer

Wild and feral pigs have been spotted in the Kamloops, Okanagan, Peace, Kootenay and Lower Mainland regions, and the government doesn’t want any of it. In a media release the Ministry of Forests, Lands and Natural Resource Operations announced that the swine are now listed as a “schedule C” animal and hunters with a valid hunting license could shoot them anywhere and anytime they encounter this invasive species.

Having lived and traveled for a few years in America and seen firsthand how fast wild and feral pigs multiply and spread - and the devastation they create on habitat and agricultural crops - I can fully understand and appreciate our government’s drastic measure.

Where do these pigs come from? Wild pigs (like pheasant, fallow deer and many other species) are not native to North America; they were introduced by the first European settlers for sport hunting and agricultural purposes. The current “North American wild pig” is predominantly a hybrid of Russian wild boar and domesticated pigs that escaped. This interbreeding has created a particularly hardy animal that is able to survive in almost any condition from the desert to the lower alpine regions.

So far British Columbia is a small corner of North America where feral pigs are still small in numbers compared to other parts where the pig population, despite relentless hunting from ground and with helicopters, has gone totally out of control. The B.C. government views the “war on pigs” as a proactive measure to make sure we do not end up with the same problems that exist elsewhere.

Once established in an area wild pigs are extremely hard to control and keep their populations in check. Under the right conditions a sow can have two litters of piglets in any given year. While nursing one litter she is already impregnated with the next litter. The piglets are independent within six months and ready to reproduce. The average litter size can be as high as eight to ten piglets with the average surviving to adulthood being five to seven.

The good news for hunters is that wild hogs make for some very good and healthy table fare. Wild pork is some of the best meat that I ever had the pleasure to eat, and being wild it is also totally organic and is not dripping with excessive fat like domestic pork. Hunting wild pigs can also be very challenging. While pigs can’t see much beyond the tip of their noses their incredible sense of smell and hearing make them nearly unapproachable. Something else that makes pigs a challenge to hunt is their “bravery”. When cornered, injured, threatened wild pigs have no hesitation to attack their adversary with the ferocity one would attribute to a lion. There have been eye witness accounts that even a bear or cougar would run if he encountered an angry wild boar. It is for this reason that in Florida and some other American jurisdictions it is mandatory to hunt wild pigs from an elevated platform, like a treestand or shooting house.

In my forays throughout the Nicola Valley I have never seen feral pigs or any sign of them and can’t tell with certainty if we have any roaming around or not. Having said that, I will pay more attention to it in the future, it’s been a while since I had barbecued wild pork ribs and I wouldn’t mind having it again.
---

If you have seen any feral or wild hogs in British Columbia or hunted them we would like to hear your story.

95-Year-Old Nova Scotia Woman Bags Her First Moose With 1 Shot

© By Othmar Vohringer

The following news item is the kind of hunting stories that inspire me.

Laura Wood, a 95-year-old woman from Yarmouth Nova Scotia, fulfilled her lifelong dream of going on a moose hunt. It was the last day of her hunt, just when daylight broke when Laura’s dream materialized in form of a 600-pound moose appearing. Laura brought the critter down with a single shot form her rifle. The Sandy Point Lodge, which hosted Laura’s hunting trip, said it's the first time they can remember a 95-year-old hunter in camp.

Now that Laura Woods has fulfilled her dream she won’t go moose hunting next year, because "I'm getting too old." She said “but I still plan on deer hunting." Wood said she has been hunting rabbits and deer since she was 16 years old. And to the one shot kill on the moose she said modestly, "Well I used to be a good shot. Well it must have been pretty good if I got that one...it's in my freezer now."

Laura Woods made headlines in the Canadian newspapers but that doesn’t faze her one bit. “Since I’ve been back people have been so good to me. The phone’s been ringing off the hook. I don’t know why they call me. I’m not worth it.” Well Laura you may think you’re not worth the media attention, but as far as I am concerned you are. There are not many hunters around that still hunt at that age let alone planning on continuing hunting.

(Photo courtesy of Sandy Point Lodge)

New World Record Mountain Goat Taken In British Columbia

© By Othmar Vohringer

According to the Boone & Crockett Club hunter Troy M. Sheldon of Alexandria, Ky. Has bagged the new mountain goat world record. After the required drying period the official Boone & Crockett judges panel verified the goats official entry as the new world record. It surpasses the old world record by a substantial 6/8 of an inch.

Troy Sheldon took the animal in the Stikine River area while hunting with Heidi Gutfrucht of Northwest Ranching and Outfitting. As an interesting side note; Sheldon used a Tikka T3 .270 (my personal favourite calibre) to make a perfect 319-yard shot across a ravine.

My First Coyote Hunt

© By Othmar Vohringer

My first, but not last, coyote.

Over the years I often thought about extending my hunting season beyond deer hunting, which around here closes on December 10. Hunting coyotes seemed always a possibility to do that but for some reason I never went out again once the deer hunting season closed.

A few weeks ago as I walked to my stand I could hear coyotes howling from every hilltop. Walking along the trail my flashlight beam caught eight shiny spots in the field. Living in bear country my first thought was “bears”, but when I turned the light beam up a notch I could see four coyotes looking at me. Walking further I noticed a hump on the side of the trail and as I got closer the hump turned out to be a dead deer. The carcass was still steaming in the frosty air. That deer had not been dead for longer than a half hour and by closer examination I could see bite marks to the deer’s neck and hindquarters. I got mad for two reasons. First because that dead deer, obviously killed by the coyotes I’ve seen earlier in the field, spoiled one of my most productive stand sites for days if not weeks to come and second because the coyotes killed the deer.

Record Breaking Bear killed In Pennsylvania

© By Othmar Vohringer

David Price, a bowhunter from the Keystone state, bagged during that states first ever archery only bear season a monster bear. The bear is estimated to be 17 years old with a live weight of 879-pounds, field-dressed weight the animal weighed 744-pounds.

Game Commission Spokesman Tim Conway said that this bear could be the new world record. Prices bear is heavier than the previous state record, an 864-pound bear killed by Dough Kristiansen. It is interesting to note that both bears have been taken in the same county.

Read the article here.

###

This blog post has been brought to you by Othmar Vohringer Outdoors

I didn’t get a tom but I am thrilled

© By Othmar Vohringer

Two days before the turkey season opener, April 15 here in British Columbia, we were nicely settled in at the Park Lane Resort & Motel in Christina Lake and ready to do some scouting. This was my quest for a Merriam’s turkey to complete my grand slam. For those that do not know what a turkey grand slam is: To score a grand slam the hunter has to shoot one of each of the four main subspecies, a Eastern, Osceola, Merriam's and Rio Grande. You can complete the grand slam in one season or take as many years as you want.

For this trip I took a novice turkey hunter with me to show him the ropes and it didn’t take long until I found several roosting trees. From here I had to find the route the birds would take to their feeding grounds in the large alfalfa fields. The novice was quite impressed how one could determine traveling routes just by observing the topography of the land. He was even more impressed when he heard a tom gobble not far away from us. With awe in his voice he said; “I never thought that a small animal could make such a big thunderous sound.” Hunting turkeys for over 16 years and still getting goose pumps when I hear a tom gobble I understood what he meant.

On opening day hunters arrived in great numbers, I have rarely seen that many hunters in one place and I have hunted some pretty crowded places in my life. I did not expect to see so many hunters in that area. The presence of all these hunters called for a change in the original plans since the turkeys adapted quickly to the pressure. In a small river bottom I found a secluded place and the obvious place where turkeys would go when the hunting pressure was on. Sure enough the very first morning a tom answered my soft hen calls from his roosting tree, a towering Ponderosa pine near the river. When it was time to fly down the tom did something that I have not anticipated. Rather then fly down into the meadow he flew direct from the tree over the wide river into the forest. The forest was on private land to which I had no access, but I promised to myself that we would be back that evening and wait for the tom when he returned to his roosting tree. He obviously had some very smart genes because he returned after legal shooting light and all we could do is watch how he flew into the tree.

For four days that tom played that game with us and on our last day I decided to use my decoys, setting them up on the small meadow. Usually I do not use decoys in areas where lots of other hunters are present, because it is just not very safe as a hunter could mistake the decoy for a real bird. However, this was such a big mature tom that I had at least to try. Two hours before dawn we sat under a huge pine tree in the small meadow not 40 yards away from the roosting tree. When the tom woke up he had to see my decoy and he did. Right at dawn he flew direct to the decoy, which was within shooting range of my shotgun. I lifted the gun to my shoulder. My partner got a cramp in the leg from sitting for so long and moved. The tom reared his head looking directly at my partner and a split second later was airborne heading over the river to the other side.
“Sorry, but I just couldn’t stand the pain anymore.” My partner said and then quickly added that this was for him the experience of a lifetime. Seeing the bright smile on his face I couldn’t be to mad at him, in fact I was just glad that he enjoyed himself so much in the course of the week, that to me is a trophy too.

Before my turkey hunting trip, and the reason why I neglected this blog a bit, I was very busy with turkey seminars all over British Columbia. When I cam home from my hunting trip and checked my emails I found that several hunters that attended my seminars had sent me turkey hunting success messages and “blaming” me for their success. One hunter wrote; “Thank you Othmar, I have been hunting turkeys for three years without success. After your seminar I went out again and applied my newly gained knowledge. I shot a big tom and dedicate it to you.” I am deeply humbled. It thrills me to no end when I hear stories like that and had a small part to play in the success of other hunters. That is what Smart Hunting Strategy seminars are all about, helping others becoming more successful.


This blog post has been brought to you by Othmar Vohringer Outdoors

Read my bi-weekly newspaper column online.

Tags: Turkey Hunting, Hunting Seminars, Turkey Grand Slam

How a little help can go a long way to help others become successful hunters

© By Othmar Vohringer

Those of my readers who also read the Whitetail Deer Passion blog may remember the post I wrote about the young Wisconsin hunter who killed his first ever buck after seeking my advice.

After that initial buck Shawn, the young Wisconsin hunter, asked for more advice because he hadn’t seen any more deer. He was wondering where they went. I gave him advice, based on the information he provided, and a few days later he called to tell me that he shot a huge 11-point puck during Wisconsin’s slug gun season. The hunter kindly supplied me with his hunting report and the permission to publish it on Whitetail Deer Passion.

In the report he writes an interesting part that all hunters should take to heart. “…His way of thinking surprised me. I always thought that bow hunters had to be either in a tree stand or in a ground blind that is manufactured…” To often hunters are caught up with traditions and “that is how it is done” rituals. The fact however is, that the hunter who thinks outside the box will always be more successful. Deer do not read hunting magazines, watch videos or attend hunting seminars. Deer do what they do and hunters need to observe and adjust accordingly.

As Shawn’s story and the popularity of my hunting strategy consultant service and seminars prove time and again thinking outside of the box and be flexible pays off big time.

The full story can be read here.

I am flattered by the credit Shawn pays to my advice but also very proud of having been able to play my part in his success. It is quite something for a novice hunter to go from getting nothing for years to filling tow doe and two buck tags, and big bucks at that, in one season.

For more information on my services to improve your success visit my website.

Here I leave you with Shawn’s two big bucks which he killed within a few weeks of each other.













This is Shawn's 10 point bow buck.














This is Shawn's 11 point slug gun season buck.

Images courtesy of Shawn Moretti.

Tags: Deer Hunting, Hunting Strategy Consultant, Improve Hunting Success

Winter returns with a vengeance

© By Othmar Vohringer

The spring goose hunting season came and went. In my last post I mentioned how exited I am to go on a Canada goose hunt with a few good friends.

The weather looked promising, it felt almost like spring but then Friday came and when I got up at 4 am and looked out the kitchen window to check the thermometer it showed 15 C below freezing, that’s -5 F for my American readers, still I was hopeful that some geese will fly.

At 6 am I met up with my friends and we all were in agreement that it probably would be wiser to return home and go back to bed. But since we’re all dressed up and ready to hunt we might just as well try our luck. You know how the saying goes. “You never know until you try.”

Arriving at the farmers field, were we previously obtained permission to hunt, we went about to set out the decoy spread and then got comfortable in the blinds. As comfortable as one could get in this cold weather. Just after we set out the decoys my friend Richard walked the short way down to the lake where he previously had seen geese and came back with the encouraging news that he had seen about 30 geese on the sandy beach. We were hopeful that ones the sun came out and warmed the air up a bit the geese would get hungry and fly up to the field to feed.

We waited, and waited, and waited some more and finally two hours had passed when three big Canadian geese few high in the sky toward us. Quickly I pulled the goose flute from under my jacket but it was so clod that the call froze up instantly the moment I blew it. What should have been a series of enticing welcoming honks for the geese sounded like a crow with a severely sore throat? Surprisingly, the three geese changed direction and came closer to investigate the decoy spread but stayed high in the sky out f shooting range.

Since the frozen call was useless the geese quickly realized that something is not quite right and turned away. We sat in the blind for another hour or so and then decided that it just too cold and we either go home to defrost our fingers and toes or try a different approach. We decided that three of us line up along the willows that borders a big swamp and that Richard with his dog would walk down to the lake to flush the geese resting on the beach. The idea was that we would catch the spooked geese when they took off and flew over the willows. That was the idea but fifteen minutes into the waiting game nothing happened. Then Richard and his faithful dog returned form the lake to tell us that the geese must have sneaked out the backdoor because they were all gone when he went down to the lake.

That wrapped up the day. On the way out we passed the farmer and he told us that he would call us when the weather warmed up and he sees the geese are flying again. Well, the call never came and today is Tuesday, the last day of the ten-day spring geese hunting season. The weather has not warmed up. In fact over the weekend it got considerably colder, with the lowest temperatures today reaching minus 30C (-22 F). The coldest day on record in March since the mid-seventies. The winter has come back with a vengeance and it looks like it is going to be with us for a while yet. We even had few days of heavy snowfall, that much for Global warming.

I just hope the winter is not for too long with us because spring turkey and spring black bear hunting season opens in early April. Turkeys are not much of a problem in the cold but the bears are still in hibernation and if they don’t wake up soon the spring bear hunting can get really though.

Othmar Vohringer Outdoors
Founding Member of Outdoor Bloggers Summit

Tags: Spring Geese Hunting Season, Goose Decoys, Spring Bear Hunt, Turkey Hunting Season, Winter Weather, Winter Returns With A Vengeance

Highlights of the 2008 hunting season

© By Othmar Vohringer

On December ten the deer hunting season in my home region of British Columbia closed. Waterfowl fall/winter season is still open to December 23, small game (snowshoe hares) to April 30, 2009 and coyotes are open to March 31, 2009.

As far as deer hunting goes it’s been a very strange season. I have seen lots of deer sign but very little deer movement. Hunters here in British Columbia agree that this had been one of the toughest seasons for deer hunters in a long time. The jury is not out yet what made deer move more at night then during daylight ours but we think it had to do with the strange weather patterns we had all through fall and early winter. Whatever the case may have been, my observation was that most deer movement occurred during the early and late daytime hours, before and after legal shooting light.

Despite that my hunting season was spiced with a few memorable highlight. It all started on pre-season scouting trip with my wife to a nearby area that traditionally holds a lot of deer. In scouting and wildlife photography I wrote about that trip and the wildlife encounters we had. It was this trip just a few days prior to hunting season that my hopes up for a successful deer hunting season.

But as every hunter knows things do rarely stay the same as they appear at first. This became very clear to me on the opening day of the deer hunting season and the drastic weather change that shut deer movement down.

Despite the disappointment on opening day I had some great experiences, such as on September 18, a sunny warm day. My wife and loaded the boat and drove to Nicola lake. About an hour into fishing and my wife caught her first rainbow trout with her own fishing tackle, which she just previously purchased. The fish was not the only thing that got hooked that day. My wife is now hooked on fishing too.

A few days later I sat in my office and driving everybody crazy with my duck calling rehearsals, after more then 19 I decided that perhaps it is time to go duck hunting again. This was followed my and unforgettable day in the duck marsh.

When my wife’s cousins husband phoned up to tell me that he would like to come hunting, it was time to get ready for our annual deer hunting camp with relatives and friends. The weather forecast looked perfect. A cold weather front moving in from the coast was bound to get the rut started. Once again I looked forward to continue my quest of a big antlered mule deer buck.

Not long after our annual hunting camp I went back out again to look at a new hunting area. A local man had told me that he had seen a few huge bucks in that area. Since this are was close to our house I thought that it couldn’t hurt to drive there and have a look around. Sure enough, the second day of hunting this new area I run into a huge buck. What became of that encounter and the lesson I learned is described in detail in my field notes.

Looking back at this years hunting season it was all in all a memorable season with many highlights, new experiences and learned lessons. While I didn’t get the deer I wanted I still managed to fill the freezer with waterfowl and upland birds. The fishing was good, and one of the rainbow trout I caught may yet turn out to be a true trophy. I have entered it into the trophy-fishing contest and I am just waiting to get the juries verdict. When I get the news you will read the results here on this blog.


Othmar Vohringer Outdoors
Founding Member of Outdoor Bloggers Summit

Tags: Hunting Season Highlights, Deer Hunting, Waterfowl Hunting, Upland Birds, Mule Deer Buck, Fishing, Trophy Rainbow Trout, Field Notes

Hunting By The Moon Chart

© Othmar Vohringer

How many of you check the moon chart before a hunt? If my estimation is right based on what hunters tell me I assume that quite a few use a moon guide to determine the best hunting times.

At times I have been known to check the moon guide too. Although to be honest I never took it very seriously. The way I see it, every day a hunter heads out is a good day to hunt. More importantly, most of us have to go hunting when they have time and that might not be when the moon chart predicts good hunting.

Yesterday was no exception to this fact. Just out of curiosity I checked the hunting and fishing guide on my GPS. The results came up as “poor hunting day”. The information the GPS gathered is passed solely on the constellation of the moon. Yesterday the moon was a waning gibbous 73% full. As any old hunter will tell you this in not considered a hunting moon.

I went out despite of what the moon chart said, I always do, and as it turned out the deer sightings belied the chart said. In a one morning of spot and stalk hunting I have seen four does and two bucks. Unfortunately, we cannot shoot does here and the bucks have to have a minimum of four times not including the brow time and the two bucks I saw all did not fulfill the legal requirements. So no shots were fired.

I have been very encouraged by the deer sightings because it was a new location that I have never seen before and purely went by the knowledge of how deer use terrain and structure to navigate an area. I also discovered three locations (see aerial map image) that would make terrific bowhunting sites. Since our bow season is closed for this year I marked the spots in my GPS with a note attached “scout in June next year”. The activity of the deer, all of them were feeding in the late morning, has confirmed ones more my opinion that there is much more to deer activity that just the moon.

In fact I believe, based on years of experience, that the moon has very little influence on deer movement and activity. Deer activity is regulated mainly by weather, availability of food, the rut and hunting pressure. Which concludes me to advice that any day a hunter has time to go out is a good hunting day.

(This is a prairie like landscape with wide-open country and rolling hills. The deer use the narrow wooded coulees and ravines to travel from the bottomland alfalfa fields to the forests in higher elevation. On many places the wooded strips are not wider than 20 to 30 yards. This makes them perfect ambush sites for bowhunters.)


I would like to hear opinions and experiences from other hunters on this topic.

Tags: Moon Chart, Hunter Moon, Deer Activity, Best Times to go Hunting

Thick fog and icy rain equals spoiled hunting

© By Othmar Vohringer

On Friday evening my hunting buddies Ernie and Henry arrived in Merritt from the coast and we quickly loaded my gear into the truck and then headed out confidently to our hunting area. The weather forecast was perfect as reported on the Whitetail Deer Passion Blog and we had high expectations for this long weekend hunt.

All across North America a cold weather front had moved in that promised perfect hunting for rut crazed bucks but on the first morning we woke up to a thick fog, which knocked back visibility to not much more than 30 yards.
Still, since I hunt by the motto of: “You can’t kill a buck by sitting in camp or at home” I ventured out optimistically in the hopes of stumbling upon a buck that was equally limited by the fog to see as I was.

With the aid of the GPS, I headed out to my usual spot where I had seen many good bucks before. All around me unseen I heard deer running and blowing.
I should have given up the idea of hunting that morning and gone back to camp to wait for the fog to lift but the urge to shoot a deer got the better of me and so I pressed on in my quest of finding a big mature mule deer buck.

By mid afternoon the fog hadn’t lifted and the temperatures dropped to below zero turning the fog into ice droplets. I still couldn’t see much further than perhaps thirty yards. I lost patience – what good is it to hear deer moving around but not being able to see them – at least my prediction of prime deer movement had been right on. I returned to the camp and was glad to sit near the warming fire and sipping hot coffee.

There was still hope that the next day would have better weather conditions. With the temperature still dropping the bucks would surely be on the move again in search of does. Long before daylight I woke up to the beautiful smell of fresh coffee. It’s nice to have good hunting partners like Ernie- he’s the first one up and is usually the one who gets the stove going and the coffee made.

Stepping out of the warm wall tent I was disappointed to see that while the fog had gone and visibility was perfect, an overnight ice rain had turned the soft snow from the previous day into a sheet of crackling glass. Again the hunting urge – stubbornness may be a better description – led me to wander out to another hunting spot. Crunch, crunch. Each step I took made more noise in the still of the night than a bulldozer. Again I could hear deer in the dark and their vocal protests to my presence but it didn’t bother me because where I was heading there would be no frozen snow and it was about a mile away from camp. I walked along the creek bed to avoid crunching on the frozen snow but as I came upon my chosen spot I saw that it too was now covered in an icy sheet of white. There was no winning for me today so I went back to camp.

The next morning my partners had to go back home to spend Remembrance Day with their families which was just fine by me too. After two days of struggling with the weather I had had about as much as I was prepared to put up with. What good are the perfect hunting conditions if fog and ice make a mockery of it? On the way out I saw several grouse huddled together under a tree and thought I might bring at least something home. I aimed a .22 at the fattest of the birds and that was a good end to an otherwise disappointing hunting trip that started with high expectations. The good news is that the hunting season is still open until December 10 and the bucks are still in the area. To quote Arnold Schwarzenegger: “I’ll be back!” Maybe as soon as this weekend.


Tags: Hunting Trip, Mule Deer Hunting, Trophy Hunting Big Deer , Best Hunting Weather

My kind of week

© By Othmar Vohringer

It stared with an unforgettable morning in the duck marsh and went on to become on of the most enjoyable weeks in my hunting career. In this blog post I will take you along on my outdoor journey illustrated through pictures. Enjoy.

As I said it all stared with that memorable waterfowl hunt. The day after that hunt I found myself sitting in my office cutting green cord pieces to the exact length needed to braid a duck call lanyard. With the memories that hunt stirred up in me it brought a knowledge that was buried deep inside me. The knowledge my father passed on to me of how to make your own duck call lanyard. It didn’t click right away but after the second try it all came back to me and within a few minutes I held a finished lanyard in my hands.

The next day I went back to the marsh for some more duck hunting. This time I was a little bit better prepared and knew what to expect. I planed on shooting a few mallards but ended the morning with a pintail hen, two gadwall hens and a green-winged teal. Mallards, the most hunted of the duck species, are very spooky at this time of season and to get them close to the decoys I have to camouflage the boat much better in the future. Still I had a good morning and I am very happy with what I got.

Two days later I headed out to scout at a new hunting area that I have discovered earlier in the fall. I found lots of deer sign, even some fresh rubs. The weather has cooled down over that last few days from warm to frost in the morning. That was all that is needed to get the deer in the pre-rut phase. Rubs start to turn up everywhere now. After the scouting I spent the rest of the morning hunting grouse. In the aspen grove draped in beautiful golden fall color I shot two grouse.

On Friday it cooled down even more which put the rainbow trout into a feeding frenzy. They have to eat as much as they can now to fatten up and make it through the winter when the lake is frozen over. This in turn makes for some excellent fishing. After changing lures a few times I found the one that the fish were going for. Within thirty minutes I caught these three rainbow trout. The largest is a monster that measured 1.5 feet and weighed cleaned out still over 3 pounds.

In between all these activity I continued on my quest to find a nice mule deer buck. Unlike whitetail deer hunting mule deer hunting involves sitting for hours at an elevated point in the landscape and glassing the terrain below for traveling or bedded bucks. If a buck is spotted bedded down the difficult task of stalking within shooting range begins. If the buck travels out of shooting range watch where he is headed and then try to follow him undetected and either anticipate where he is heading and try to get ahead of it and ambush the deer or stalk after it. Any which way you choose mule deer hunting is though.

This will be my last post for this week. On Friday my hunting partner comes up to us and we head together to our annual hunting camp for three days. I will be back here next week and hope to report that I have succeeded in my quest for a big mule deer buck. If the weather keeps as cool as it is right now the bucks should all be on the move and that makes hunting them a bit easier.

An unforgettable morning in the duck marsh

© By Othmar Vohringer

An hour before daylight my boat glided silently under paddle power over the mirror like surface of Nicola Lake toward the first of several pre-prepared duck blinds I set up a few days earlier. The nightly scene with the stars glistening on the water’s surface, the thin layer of fog on the lake and the barely audible sound of the paddles being pushed in the water was reminiscent of the setting from Richard Wagner’s opera “Die Walküre” (The Valkyrie). There is a scene in the famous German composer’s opera where the heroine of Nordic myth crosses the River Rhine in a Viking battle boat in the middle of the night.

I’m sure that I thought of the similarities because of my father who was very fond of Wagner’s operas, not to mention an avid hunter- I’m certain I could feel his presence very clearly the moment I arrived at the lake and throughout the morning of my duck hunt.

As I wrote in All ducks lined up and ready to rumble I had gone to great lengths to prepare for the waterfowl hunting season. One of the reasons why I had prepared so well is because I wanted it to be a special hunt. A hunt my father, and mother too, would be proud of.

My father hunted many animals but if given the choice he would go waterfowl hunting. He was actually something of an expert and often gave other hunters advice on shotguns, hunting tactics and calling.
Whenever he would go out to the duck marsh I followed him whenever I could. There were times when I skipped school just to be with him and, interestingly enough, these were the only times my father would look at me and ask, “skipped school today?” and then smile. At no other time he would put up with such nonsense from me. As an adult I would spend time in the duck hunting blind with my father whenever I had time and so, waterfowl hunting became something very special and I never had another duck hunting partner in my life.

Ironically, shortly before my father passed away we shared our last hunt but it was not in the duck marsh but rather out hunting rabbits. At that time my father was greatly weakened from illness and had stopped going out to the marsh. That was 19 years ago and since then I have tried to hunt ducks alone, but it was such an emotionally painful experience that I never tried it again. Then about a year ago I found myself thinking about hunting waterfowl again and was surprised to realize that although I had to think about my father it was not painful anymore. Perhaps I could now venture out to the marsh again, on my own.

This led up to the preparations I described in “All ducks lined up and ready to rumble”. When I got up in the morning I still was not sure how I would feel and then arriving on the lake I got a bit sentimental and even shed some tears. Once on the water heading toward the first set up I felt amazingly calm and relaxed, I even smiled in anticipation of what laid ahead.

Arriving at my set up I immediately began setting up the decoys and then headed the boat around the corner of the cove where the approaching ducks would not be able to see it. Heavily hunted ducks soon will get very suspicious the moment they spot a boat on the water or close to shore. Once the boat was hidden and covered with reeds I took all the gear I needed out and walked the short distance to the blind.

Once there I just had time for a quick hot coffee, getting the gun loaded and adding a few more cattails to the blind. Sitting on a comfortable folding chair with duck calls hung around my neck and gun at my side, I was ready for action. It was just in time too. Looking to the east I could see the first silver lining of daylight. Any minute now and the ducks would start coming to feed on the marsh. I was about to put a duck call in my mouth when I remembered what my father taught me. “Never call ducks until you can see them. If they’re coming to you wait until they are over the decoys. If it looks like that they can’t make up their minds start with feeding chatter to coax them to land. If they try to fly away use 'come back' calls. But if the ducks attempt to land in the decoys don’t call at all, pick the gun up and get ready to shoot.”

Right at that moment I heard the familiar faint whistling sound ducks make with their wings when they fly. Looking up I saw a gaggle of Green-Winged Teals* heading my way. By the time these fast flying little birds arrived at the decoys I had the gun up and pointed at the duck leading the gaggle. I knew the decoys were exactly 30 yards from the blind. The gun barked loud in the quiet young day and the lead duck tumbled out of the sky.

It was my first duck in over 19 years and it felt good. “Did you see that dad?” I heard myself mumbling as I waded out to retrieve the bird. An hour passed and no more ducks came in. News most have gotten around that this spot was not safe. Time to pack up and head to the next spot. This spot on the lake was in the middle of a huge bed of reeds. It was the perfect sanctuary for waterfowl. I had scouted the location over at Google Earth and noticed a narrow path leading through the reeds to the open center and so, the previous week I had cut that path wider to make it passable for the boat and then closed the entrance again with reeds amd cattails to camouflage it from other hunters.

Silently I pulled the boat along the channel by grabbing reed stalks and pulling on them. The channel was so narrow that I could not use the paddles. I could smell the stench of duck droppings long before I arrived.
The end of the path opened up into a good-sized clearing in the reeds where hundreds of ducks had come to hide from the hunters. Upon my arrival the ducks took off everywhere complaining loudly at my intrusion. As soon as they had all flown out of sight I began setting up the decoys. Another trick I learned from my father: “Never ever set decoys out when the ducks can see you. If only one bird is seeing you setting up fake ducks he will go and tell the others.”

Once I had the boat in position I covered the boat completely with reeds and cattails that I had pre-cut at the other location. Then I laid a blanket of reeds and cattails over me leaving a hole just big enough to get the gun out. The waiting game began and an hour later the first ducks, a flock of Northern Pintails*, returned. I have heard it often said that Pintails make better table fare than mallards. Again the bead of my gun found its mark on the lead duck then swung ahead and the gun went off. Another duck fell out of the sky.

Despite all the practice I still have to learn to follow a flying target more quickly. After the first duck I was not fast enough to reload and follow the next one before the birds were out of shooting range. Still, after 19 years I had two ducks in the boat and was more than happy with the result. I enjoyed this hunt more than any other. Perhaps with the exception of the first buck I shot with bow and arrow. I am now back to waterfowl hunting and I can do so without experiencing sadness and loss. I miss my father and I always will, just like I miss my mother but now I am a waterfowl hunter that can enjoy the hunt and carry the heritage that has been passed on to me by my father. For this special occasion I dedicated the two ducks with a silent prayer to my father and mother.

On the way home I phoned up my wife to tell her about my waterfowl success and she was thrilled about it. I think deep down in her heart she felt how much that particular hunt meant to me. I am looking forward to many more waterfowl hunts yet to come.

For those interested in equipment here is what I used:
Lowe L 1436 Jon Boat without a motor
Mossberg 535 ATS Waterfowl 12 gauge 3 ½ magnum shotgun
Federal Premium Ultra-Shok 3” #3 steel ammunition.
Advantage and ASAT camouflage.
LaCross boots and hip waders.
Flambeau duck decoys, 6 drakes and 6 hens single rigged.
Knight & Hale and Primos duck calls.

(*) Both ducks are eclipse hens for those who are not familiar with ducks. An eclipse duck is a bird that has changed its summer plumage (molted) to winter plumage. An eclipse drake has similar plumage to a hen. Duck hens “eclipse” too but their appearance is not as dramatically different as an eclipsed drake.

Tags: Waterfowl Hunting, Nicola Lake Duck Hunt, Ducks, Green-Winged Teal, Northern Pintail, Mossberg Shotgun, ASAT Camouflage, Atvantage Camouflage, TEXT, Duck Calls, Knight&Hale, Primos, LaCross Boots, Federal Ammunition

The story of a young elk hunter

Field Dress

© By Othmar Vohringer

This is a true story of a young elk hunter and his close encounter with a monster elk bull that got him hooked for good on the pursuit of this majestic animal with its echoing bugle that can be heard for miles in the predawn mist in the Colorado Mountains. The story has been told to me by Chad of Field Dress and rather than repeat here I let him tell you all about that incredible story in his own words.
Enjoy.

Every year my father, uncle, brother and I get together for a week of nonstop bowhunting in either Colorado, for elk, or North Dakota, for whitetail. This year is like no other, as everyone had a tough year financially and we decided we’d have to wait until next year to get together. My uncle’s son, however, finally decided he would like to take up bowhunting and drew both elk and mule deer tags. In previous years, he would always join us in the woods, but he never had the passion for the actual “hunt”. He has been calling me every evening to not only rub it in, but mostly to get advice and tell me about the happenings. The story he told me the other night was one we’ll be telling around the campfire for years to come.

He scouted pretty well and had been seeing quite a few cows and a couple monster mule deer on a consistent basis. In the morning hunt, he glassed the area they’ve been in and the valley was alive with activity. The mule deer bucks, herd of cows, and a couple rag horned elk were out. A friend came up the night before and the two devised the route to take. They had radios, a perfect wind, and my cousin set out on his first true stalk.

He decided to go after the rag-horned elk, as they were preoccupied with each other in a morning scrap. It didn’t take him long to get within sixty yards. He feels extremely confident shooting within forty yards and as he stopped to figure out the plan, he heard the familiar “crack” to his left.

Now, the rest might be hard for some to believe, but let me tell you, the boy doesn’t have it in him to lie. He looked down the ridge and there was the granddaddy bull elk standing forty-yards away through the pines. He set up just in front of a pine and some brush preparing for the shot. He couldn’t tell how big, but could see a mass of horns walking directly to him. As the bull came through the pines into clear view, he counted eight points on one side and as he described it, “horns going in every direction” on the other side.

He also noticed the bull had a limp and realized one of his back legs had been shot off just above the knee. The wind was perfect, blowing directly in his face and the adrenaline was kicking in as the bull kept walking to within twenty yards. Never offering a shot, the bull kept coming to ten yards. At fifteen-feet, the bull stopped to relieve himself and my cousin swore he felt the spray on his face. He absolutely had no idea what to do with a bull that close and continuing to get closer and closer.

My cousin was slightly above him, as the bull had been walking up the ridge and fifteen-feet quickly became five-feet and then two feet. My cousin closed his eyes to try and calm down and when he opened them all he saw were horns surrounding his body. The bull had put his head down to feed and had he turned his head would’ve hit my cousin for sure. Being an agile young man, he slowly contorted to draw his bow, never realizing if he actually would extend his arm he would hit the bull directly on the forehead with the end of his arrow. As the monster granddaddy lifted his head, they met eyes and I’m sure they both “shat” themselves. I can’t imagine the feeling of looking into the eyes of such a majestic animal at that distance. In a moment the three-legged eight-point granddaddy monster bull was gone and my cousin was left standing to wonder what he could’ve done. To me, it doesn’t really matter. He might not ever get the biggest bull in our camp, but he’ll always be able to keep us captivated with the best elk hunt story ever told.

He has another week or so to go after him and has promised to not forget a camera. I’ll keep you informed as I look forward to the evening updates.
-----------------
Three-Legged Bull Update!

Well, my cousin is really getting into the elk. He’s been having the most luck in the morning hunts and yesterday was no exception. He spotted a couple cows and the monster muley in the same general area as before and headed out. A snow front started in which made for a beautiful walk in.

About half way up he spooked something and froze. As he looked to his right, getting up from their beds were two moose. It’s rare, but every once in a while we’ll come upon one. This was a small bull and cow and they just kind of wandered off into the timber. He continued up the trail and got about one hundred yards out from where he saw the cows and stopped to glass. As he was glassing, down below him, the herd was moving his way. He initially saw numerous cows, a six-point bull, and more horns through the pines, but couldn’t make out their sizes.

In his mind, however, all he saw was “Tripod”, the eight-point, three-legged bull, he’s seen over and over in his dreams since last week. He put out a couple bugles and got the answer he was looking for from the six-point. They talked back and forth for a while, but the big bull didn’t want to leave the herd. He thought “Tripod” must be in the area. Then suddenly, a nice four-point appeared in a clearing, forty-yards out. Perfect shooting distance, but “Tripod” got the better of him.

First-time elk hunting and I think he believes its always going to be this way. He passed him up and continued towards the herd. The six-point wanted nothing to do with his bugling and took the herd off into the timber and again. “Tripod” was victorious.

How many of us passed a nice trophy because of the one that got away still fresh in our minds? In the field training for the rookie elk hunter. Whatever he is doing however, he must be doing something right. He was able to get a picture of the walk in on his cell and thinks he got some of the moose and elk too. I’ll have to wait for him to get on a computer to send everything over. The way his hunts are going, I don’t think he’ll be in civilization until he and “Tripod” meet again.

More to come…


To learn more about Field Dress visit their website !
Or you can read my Field Dress product review here!


Elk Hunting, Rocky Mountain Elk, Bowhunting, Monster Elk Bull, Trophy Elk, Colorado

First day of hunting

© By Othmar Vohringer

September 10 saw me long before sunrise set up on a spot overlooking a large overgrown cut block where I had previously seen many decent sized mule deer bucks. From this vantage point I would have a good view of the deer when they retreat at dawn to the dark timber. As soon the sun started to come up I began glassing the area with high-powered binoculars, looking carefully for the slightest movement with the rifle ready next to me.

After a half hour I still had not seen any movement, which to me seemed very strange considering how many deer I have seen previously on this spot. I started to wonder what the cause might be. The clear cut had plenty of food available and there were no other hunters in the area. Not wasting any more time wondering I moved quickly on to the next pre-scouted location a half a mile ahead. If I hurry I might still catch a few bucks in the open.

The new location proved to be as devoid of deer as the first spot. By now the sun was fully up and began to get warm. It was then that I realized, not only were the deer absent but also other animals such as the songbirds and grouse. The morning continued without any sightings of deer, bear or other game animals.

I should have checked the weather forecast then I would have known that it would get very hot yesterday. Animals do not need a weather forecast they instinctively know. On such days deer retreat early, before sunrise, in to the cooler timber. Once I realized that I saw no point in continue to hunt and went home for a late breakfast.

On the way out of the hunting area I met cowboys on horseback corralling cattle. I stopped and asked if they have seen any game. Neither of them has and they assured me that they have been in the area since last night. A bit further down the logging road I encountered the only other hunter I have seen all day. He asked me if I have seen anything and when I said that I didn’t he said neither did he.

In the evening it began to cool down somewhat and I got ready to head out for an evening hunt. This time I chose a power line right of way where deer come out in the evening to graze. At this time of day the power line is in the shadow from the old timber forest and animal appreciate that cooler area and cover the shadow provides.

I sneaked along just inside the tree line along the power line, in the hopes I can catch a buck feeding in the power line or hanging up just inside the tree line. By the time I got to the other end it was dark and I had to return to the truck. All I have seen is one lonely older doe. She stood within 20 yards from me watching the power line. Her interest in the opening made me think that there might be another deer, perhaps even a buck. So I did as the doe and kept watching the spot she was watching with the rifle ready. Ten minutes into the observation nothing happened and the doe walked off and so did I.

On the way back to the truck I saw a pack of coyotes playing out in a clear cut and that was the end of my first hunting day. In all the years I hunt, which is almost a lifetime, I have never tagged out on opening day. I am upset about it? No I am not. This was only the first day of many to follow. Plenty time to redeem myself.

Maybe as soon as tomorrow or on Saturday. As I write this and look out the office window I can see that the wind has picked up and dark gray clouds appear on the horizon. This means a new weather front is moving in and these are good times to hunt. In addition when I looked at the lunar calendar it said that tomorrow is a good hunting day and on Saturday will be excellent. Of course there is more to deer movement than just the condition of the moon, weather, food and other hunters play a big part in deer movement too.

I guess I will find out tomorrow and over the weekend. Stay tuned for more hunting reports and some other great posts coming to this blog very soon.

Tags: Hunting Season Opening Day, Mule Deer Hunting, Hunting Report, British Columbia

It is finally here…the hunting season opened

© By Othmar Vohringer

By the time you read this I will be sneaking around in British Columbia’s wilderness, in the pursuit of that big mule deer buck that eluded melast year, or one just like him.

Yep, tomorrow morning (September 10) our hunting season is open here in our region of British Columbia. Precisely at 3 am my alarm will go off and after a shower and a hot coffee I will be on my way. Arriving according to my plan at about 4am in my hunting area I will just have time for another coffee and get all dressed up in camo, stuff my gear into a back bag sling my trusty Weatherby Vanguard .270 over my shoulder and head off into the woods. The route I previously picked will lead along a five-mile long power line right of way – a prime area for deer to hang out – intercepted by a few overgrown cut blocks which are also prime feeding spots for deer and other game. On each cut block I will pause to glass for bucks grazing at dawn and if nothing happens move on to the next.

By the time I am at the end of the power line right of way it will be late afternoon and perfect timing to repeat the same hunting tactic on the way pack to my truck. Unless I shoot a deer I will be back home at around 7 pm. I will be out hunting with a break or two, every single day for the next three to four weeks.

We have lots of game around here in great variety. As mentioned I start my hunting season with mule deer buck hunting. This will be my priority for this season unless I kill a big deer. In between I may hunt a few days for moose and black bears. Actually it is quite likely that I run into one or the other, or all of these species, in one single day. We have so much game here that this is entirely possible. I also will spend a few days or afternoons hunting upland birds and at least two weekends waterfowl and dove hunting.

I am pumped and thrilled about the upcoming hunting season. I have never lived at a place where I had so much game and variety basically right at my doorstep. I just was saying this morning to my wife. I hunt since the age of 12, which makes this year, my 43rd hunting season anniversary. After all this years I still have trouble to sleep a few days before season opener because I am all wound up in anticipation. In fact I cannot remember that I ever felt like that as kid about Christmas, unlike other kids. For me the hunting season always has been the annual highlight and it still so to this day. Or as an old man this morning in the gun store said to me “Othmar that is what it is all about.” I couldn’t have said it better myself!

There is only one disappointment to all of that joy. I have strongly anticipated to use this opportunity to film as much footage as humanly possible on all the hunting I will do this season. However it turns out that the new video camera I purchased for that purpose was not suitable and I had to return it. I have asked around the shops for a rental camera but they are all booked out months ahead. A new camera has to be ordered and will not arrive in time I need it. Could drive to Vancouver and purchase one but the current gas prices would not justify a 200-mile trip just to buy a camera.

Each hunting season I also get a little sentimental because it is this time of year where I miss my mother and father most. It was my parents who guided my first steps in the outdoors and passed their values and morals on to me. They remained my trusted hunting partners until they day they passed away. I know my mother and father will accompany me in spirit on this hunt as they did on all the previous ones but I still miss my parents both dearly, walking one on either side of me through the woods and fields.

Over the next few days I try to keep you up-to-date about my hunting endeavors but it will not be on a daily base. I hope you all have a successful hunting season and make lots of memories. Please take a child friend or family member hunting so they too can enjoy our great hunting heritage. Be safe and have fun!

Tags: Hunting Season Opener, British Columbia, Weatherby rifles, Hunting, Mule Deer Buck, Black Bears, Moose, Upland Bird Hunting, Waterfowl

A Weekend of Hunting

© Othmar Vohringer

On November 24, I posted In Search Of Big Bucks. As my regular readers will remember this is the story of my hunting trip into the wilderness on British Columbia in pursuit of big racked mule deer. On that hunt I had a few opportunities to connect with big bucks and saw plenty of deer despite unpredictable weather. In the end I came home without ever having fired my rifle but promised to redeem myself.

Last Saturday (December 8) was the day I wanted to make good and at least shoot one buck with my new rifle. For this I chose a hunting region that had an “any buck” season. At this point, the last day of our hunting season, I lowered my standards from a trophy buck to any-buck-will-do. Heck, if shooting a doe at this time of the season would be legal I would have been happy with that too.

My hopes of hunting success soared sky high on Friday when my wife told me that she took a series of pictures of a group of deer, among them a huge eight-point buck, frolicking in a field not ten driving minutes from our home.

Exited, my wife told me the story of how she drove along the road when she spotted a few deer in a field, drove further up the road to turn around and come back to a narrow drive way where she could park the car and take a few pictures. Then she discovered the buck nearby watching the does and took a few pictures of him too. “That’s good news honey,” said I, “this means the rut is still in full swing.”


(Picture courtesy of Artemis Graphics & Design)

My wife decided a few days previously that she would make a weekend of hunting too. House hunting and photography subject hunting that is. (You can read about her “hunting” trip here.) She went to Merritt and Ernie and I went to Hope which is along the same route and so we decided that I would accompany my wife to Hope where we would all have breakfast together. After eating, a kiss and good wishes, I jumped into Ernie’s truck and we headed our way and my wife went her way.
Ernie and I left the highway and drove up some icy and bumpy logging roads toward our hunting area. Secretly I was worried about my wife because of the icy road conditions in the higher elevations. I know she is a very good and careful driver, but I still worried. It’s not her I don’t trust, it’s all the other road users and their habits that worries me more.

The moment we arrived at our hunting destination my hopes of succeeding with my plan sank to rock bottom. The snow was solid frozen into a layer of ice and each step sounded like when you step onto popcorn only much louder. How could anyone expect to see deer when they could hear our approach from a mile away? Still I did what every hunter would do who was determined; who knew, perhaps a love-sick buck would ignore the noise I made while walking on the frozen snow in search of him. I certainly had nothing to loose.
















(This is the condition that greeted us on our arrival. Ice and frozen snow that made walking difficult and noisy. The worst imaginable conditions to hunt deer.)

All was not lost though because Ernie’s daughter, 12-year-old Katerina accompanied us on this hunt. Katerina has shown an interest in nature and animals from an early age and more recently has voiced her desire to hunt. (Her plans for the future are to become a wildlife biologist.) Ernie took his .22 rifle along to hunt for grouse but all we wound up seeing was rabbit, coyote and cougar tracks. We decided at this point that now would be as good a time as any to give Katerina shooting lessons.

Ernie put a tin can up as a target, and handed the .22 rifle to Katerina. She had previously been thoroughly instructed on gun safety but had never shot a firearm before. Katerina aimed at the can from 2O yards away. The first shoot zipped through the air and with a metallic sound into the tin can.
Okay…
The first was a lucky shot. But when the second, the third, the fourth…the twentieth went into the tin can Ernie and I looked at each other knowing here was a natural talent at work. I could tell that Ernie was one proud papa.


(Katerina under the close guidance of her father carefully aims at the target, squeezes the trigger and the gun goes off and sends a bullet smack into the middle of the target. Well done Katerina. We were so proud of that young lady- a hunter in the making.)

After the shooting lesson was over it was time to head to a different location and try our luck there. We drove an hour west to Chilliwack where Ernie knew of an area that held a fairly good deer population. Unfortunately, it seemed that almost every other hunter knew this as well because on the drive in we encountered dozens of other hunters cruising the logging roads.
At several points along the road we found obvious evidence of recent hunting success in the form of disposed deer hides and guts- right out in the open. “Wow” was all I could say, not knowing that I was soon to make an even more eye-popping discovery.

About a half hour later we got out of the truck and I walked for about a mile to an overgrown clear cut that looked very promising. I keep telling myself that I would find my deer here. After sitting for an hour in the freezing cold on an elevated and windswept spot overlooking the clear cut without seeing any movement whatsoever, not even a bird or a squirrel, I admitted defeat. With cold and stiff fingers I pulled the radio out of my pocket and contacted Ernie to let him know that I had had about as much fun as I was prepared to have and would be on my way back to the truck. On the way back I chose a different direction, still somewhat hopeful that I might yet run into a buck. At least this area had no crunchy snow, which made walking much quieter.

About halfway back to the truck I became aware of the stench of rotting meat coming from a ravine. Following my nose I arrived at the source of this foul smell and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. On the slope of the ravine I discovered a heap of bones, hides and guts. Closer examination revealed that this must be the remains of at least 50 animals. The remains were scattered for a long way down the ravine and consisted mainly of deer bones that led me to believe that this might have been the handy work of poachers. Then I discovered cattle and hog bones and that started to make it look more like the illegal dumping place for local meat processors- or maybe I should say clandestine meat processors.



























(The bone yard. This is an illegal animal remains dumping place, attracting a lot of predators and birds of prey. I have seen tracks of coyotes, bobcats and cougars. A bald eagle, buzzards and ravens were perched nearby in the trees waiting for me to go away so they could continue with their dinner party.)

When Ernie arrived at the truck I told him about my bone yard discovery. Katerina immediately was exited and wanted to see the bones. She asked me many questions about the individual bones and where they belonged in the skeleton of an animal. I told you she showed and interest in animals and nature from an early age and she is not squeamish at all. A few years ago I cut up a deer and she watched the entire procedure very carefully and asked questions about the anatomy and finally she asked if I could get the brain out of the skull so that she could have a look at it. Her parents agreed that if she keeps that interest up she could one day become a veterinarian or animal biologist.

I phoned up my wife from the truck but her cell phone was out of reach, which worried me instantly. I hate if my wife does not answer the phone because I worry too much about something happening. On the second try I got the answering message. Finally an hour later my wife phoned me to tell me in a chipper voice what a great day she had had and that she was about an hour behind us and would drive into Langley to pick me up from Ernie’s house. I am always glad to hear the voice of my wife but at that point it sounded like the most beautiful music in my ears.

We were all in Langley at about 8:00pm and on the way back home to Maple Ridge my wife told me of the many pictures she had taken of the beautiful landscapes, a cattle drive done by real cowboys on horseback, and of particular interest to me photos of Rocky Mountain Big Horn Sheep.


(Picture courtesy of Artemis Graphics & Design)

Now if I were so inclined I could get flat out jealous. So far my wife has had the better hunting season then I. She has shot, with the camera, one buck in velvet during the early season, then a black bear near our home and three blacktail deer on the same day and now she just shot the classic British Columbia trophy: a Rocky Mountain Big Horn Sheep. I am not jealous of her success, quite the opposite; I am proud and very happy for her. You can read all about my wife's adventure of that weekend on her blog.

Tags: Hunting Trip, British Columbia, Canada, Wildlife Photography

In Search Of Big Bucks

© By Othmar Vohringer

Here is the long overdue report of my recent hunting trip into the wilderness of beautiful British Columbia.

This year was a very special hunt with a new rifle that I named after my wife who gave me the Weatherby Vanguard .270 as a gift. After shooting that rifle at the range for two weeks to establish a rifle/load combination that performs best I was eager to try to kill my first mule deer and the first deer with a rifle in British Columbia.

As you can tell, this hunt was a very special event in many ways. Did it end with a big buck tagged? Read on and find out.

On Friday November 9th, at 5:00 am my wife and I left home to drive to her cousin’s, who also happens to be my hunting partner.

At 6:00 am we arrived at his house and loaded all the gear into one truck and at about 6:30 I kissed my wife goodbye and off we went heading north to our hunting destination. The weatherman promised sunshine but it was not to be, we drove away from home in a light rain that turned heavier the closer we got to our final destination. Only for a brief spell the rain stopped exactly at the moment when we turned off the highway and onto the logging road that would bring us deep into the wilderness. Once we were on the logging road my hopes shot sky high when I saw six deer browsing right next to the road.

We arrived at the base camp around 11:00 am and one hour later we had unloaded all the equipment and packed it into the wall tent that would be our home for the next few days. At noon we were ready to start hunting; Ernie and I checked our radios, wished each other luck, and then headed off in opposite directions. My plan was to first check out a few cut blocks where I had seen deer on a previous scouting trip.

On my way to the first cut block I saw three does and then one buck that was safe because in this area only bucks with four points or better can be killed. I had seen the size of bucks this area produces and therefore I was determined to hold out for a very special deer. Nothing less than a true monster would do.

Just before dark I returned to the camp having seen many deer and other wildlife giving me hopes for the first full day of hunting on Saturday. In fact I was convinced that I would tag out the next day, I was that pumped. Surprisingly, I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow and woke up the next day at 5:00 am to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

Ernie was already awake and had the old camp stove fired up. Ernie is a real pal to have around in a hunting camp and I couldn’t have a better hunting partner.
Outside of the tent was a dark frosty landscape that made me want to crawl back in bed but then I remembered the many deer I had seen yesterday. We quickly downed two cups of coffee and like the previous day went our separate ways into the wild.

Long before the sun came up I was sitting more or less comfortably behind a deadfall tree overlooking a huge 3-year-old clear-cut overgrown with young trees and plants - the perfect place for deer to fill their stomachs all night long on nutritious food. If a big buck was here there was no way he could make it back into the timber at daybreak without me not seeing him. This was a prime location. I just had to sit here and be patient – but by 9:00 am I had used up all my patience and still had not seen any deer or any other critter come to think of it. Time to move on into the timber for a spot and stalk hunt, perhaps I could surprise a buck in his bed.

The rest of the morning and afternoon I hiked about fifteen miles in very rugged country where it either goes steeply up or down over boulders or fallen trees. By evening I still had seen no deer but could feel every muscle in my legs even some I never knew I had. On the way back to camp looking forward to a hot meal I came up with the only plausible conclusion for the lack of deer sightings: the drastic cold snap over night must have moved the deer to lower elevations. Should it be that cold again in the morning Ernie and I would drive with the truck to lower elevations and try our luck there.

We awoke the next morning to even colder temperatures. We had a quick coffee and then drove down to the lowland. The terrain was still rugged and hilly but not as steep and it was a lot warmer. Once again after wishing each other good hunting luck our ways parted. Ernie headed straight for a cut block where he had seen a huge mule deer buck the previous year while I headed for a long ravine that stretched for about a mile along woodlots and open areas. The perfect travel way for big bucks searching for does in heat. The moment I arrived at the ravine I knew I had hit a hot spot. There were several trails merging into a well used one leading down to the bottom of the ravine. As luck would have it nearby was the perfect setup in the form of a huge boulder. Sitting behind it I could watch several trails at once. It didn’t take long before I saw movement in the young pine growth straight ahead of me. Cautiously, a doe came down the trail heading straight for the ravine. I got ready with the rifle in case a buck followed her, but no such luck, she was alone.

After sitting behind the boulder for two hours with no more deer movement it was time to move on. I headed to a semi open area overgrown with young aspen and poplar trees. Mule deer like such places where they browse in the leaf litter. It was back to the slow spot and stalk tactic that has proven successful many times when I hunt with bow and arrow. The idea is to walk a few steps at a time then from the cover of a tree or bush carefully observe the surrounding landscape with binoculars before moving on another two to three steps. It was not long before I saw two does and a spike buck having a breakfast snack under the aspens. I watched the deer for several minutes until they moved off and I felt safe to move on without spooking them. About an hour into the spot and stalk I caught some movement trough the binoculars behind a large deadfall tree. Looking closer and adjusting the focus several times on the binos there was no doubt in my mind that there was a big buck bedded down behind that tree trunk. How big the buck was I could not tell because I had just seen the antler tips slightly moving back and forth as he inhaled and exhaled air.

A careful stalk brought me to the other side of the tree trunk and for the first time I could see the whole deer, what a beautiful buck and he was legal too. That was not the biggest buck I had seen in that area but a good look at his head gear told me that he was, or at least was close to being a B & C deer. There was only one small but vital problem; I had no clear shot at him. This was obviously a very smart buck. Not only did he camouflage himself very well by choosing this deadfall tree but he also obviously took advantage of the fact that his breeding area was overgrown with many small bushes that made it impossible to get a bullet to him without hitting a few branches on the way.

All I could do was sit there and wait for the buck to get up and walk and hopefully give me a clear shot. After two hours of waiting the buck obviously felt very comfortable in his bed and had no inclination whatsoever to move. My posterior on the other hand began to complain from sitting for so long on a less than comfortable stone and my legs started to cramp up because I had not dared to move them for fear the buck would detect me. This was hopeless, I could sit here for another two hours or longer and it was getting late. Perhaps if I sat any longer my legs would refuse to move at all. Thoughts rushed back and forth in my head. One voice said, “Shoot him- the bullet will blow right through these branches.” Another voice, the wise one, said. “Don’t shoot, there is no such thing as a bullet that can blow through brush and still hit the target.”

The wise voice won in the end and I conceded defeat, this time the buck had won the game. Slowly I eased my way back from where I came and headed back to the truck where Ernie was waiting for me. On the way back to the camp we exchanged the days events. Ernie told me that he spotted a spike chasing a doe around in a clearing. As he watched the spike in amusement he saw from the corner of his eyes a massive buck watching Ernie from about 200 yards away. Ernie turned around raising his rifle to his shoulder but did not feel comfortable taking a frontal shot at the deer, so he waited, hoping the deer would turn broadside. Instead, the buck suddenly whirled around and in mule deer fashion bounced away waving to Ernie with the white flag. Ernie didn’t feel comfortable about a Texas heart shot either and so the buck was safe from a ride in the back of our truck.

All in all this was a very good day. We had seen plenty of deer in the lower elevations and each of us had had a big buck in our rifle sights. We decided that we would return to this area the next day. We both were pumped up and talked long into the night, laid out plans and developed strategies for the next day. During supper that night, our other hunting partner that had come along to hunt grouse, (lets just call him ‘Al’) sat in front of a large plate filled with vegetables and a very tasty smelling grilled bird that he hat shot that afternoon. Coincidently, this is the same guy that reminded Ernie and me every morning, like a broken record, “If you kill a deer bring me the heart and liver. I like deer heart and liver.” Yet there he sat, stuffing his face with grouse, never offered us a morsel of it. With the camp food being what it was I wouldn’t have said ‘no’ to the offer of a wing. Only God and my wife know how much I love to eat meat, I would walk miles to find a good steak if I had too. This was just not right.
The next morning I was ready with a very good answer when Al reminded us again that we should bring back the heart and liver if we killed a deer. I replied as politely as I could manage that early in the morning: “My wife likes heart and liver too and I promised her to bring it home.” That was not true- in fact my wife does not like liver at all. But after last night where he stuffed a whole grouse inside his gut without offering us a bite of it, I wanted to let him know that I was not about to give him anything from my deer. I fear that he somehow did not get the hint.

The weather had changed drastically from yesterday’s dry cold. It rained and it was to rain all day long. There was little hope of seeing any deer movement as mule deer tend to hole up during rain or heavy snowfall and sit the weather out. Still you can’t kill something if you’re sitting in camp and making a long face. So off we went again.
As feared the day passed without any deer sightings despite hiking for another good 15 miles. In the afternoon it started raining very hard and we were sure that the deer would seek shelter in the deepest thickets to sit the rain out. In the late evening it got worse as the winds picked up and one hour later we were faced with a severe windstorm. We heard all around us noise like gunshots but it was trees that were breaking in the wind. Quite a frightening experience to see large trees snap like matchsticks all around you. The storm lasted all night and at times our camp shook so badly that we thought it was going to collapse. I am sure that if we had set up the camp in the open rather than in the middle of young and dense pine growth the whole thing would not have survived this onslaught of natures worst.

On Monday morning we awoke to freezing temperatures but decided, with little hope, to use the morning and try one more time to tag a buck. Our plan was to leave for home at around 10 am so this gave us five hours to hunt. I decided to spot and stalk a large wooded draw where I had seen lots of deer sign on a previous scouting trip. As I had feared there was a lot of sign but no deer to be seen. Here is what I believe had happened: during the storm all the deer vacated the area as the storm approached to seek shelter in the lowland.

On my way back to camp I spooked a moose cow right in front of me; she jumped up and crashed through the woods almost giving me a heart attack. That was the only wildlife encounter that morning. Back at the camp I packed all my gear up and loaded it into the truck. The very moment we were getting ready to leave we saw big black clouds moving in fast. In the two minutes it took us to jump in the truck and drive off it started to snow and about five minutes later we found ourselves driving through a blizzard. By the time we reached the highway and civilization it dumped half a foot of snow on the landscape. Four hours later I fell into my wife’s arms tired but happy to be home safe from a long trip.

Conclusion:
Like in previous years I enjoyed this trip even if I did not tag a big buck as planned. It’s good to spend time with friends and be out in nature, it helps me to clear my mind from the everyday life and hectic schedules. I am a whitetail deer hunter at heart and each time I go out in pursuit of mule deer it’s a learning process about this animal which, while similar to the whitetail, has some very different in behaviors.

The hunting season is still open until December 10th and if the weather calms down I might return to our hunting area for a weekend and try my luck to shoot a big buck again. In the meantime I keep watching the weather forecast.

Pictures From The Trip:
















Failing to provide a picture of a hunter holding a set of antlers in his hands. I proudly present you with an image of my new Weatherby Vanguard .270 Win. loaded with Federal Power Shock 130grain. The rifle rests on homemade cross-sticks, a very inexpensive item that will give you almost bench rest accuracy in the field.
















Here I recreated the position in which I observed the buck for a solid two hours in the hope that he would move and give me a clear shot at his vitals. In the background you notice the low growing bushes were the buck was hiding out behind a deadfall tree trunk.



























This is the deer trail I wrote about in the report above leading to the bottom of a huge and very steep ravine. Looks like a deer highway.
















This is the area around our main camp and should give you a fair idea what it looks like. Very rugged country but very beautiful and home to a large variety of wildlife such as mule deer, moose, black bears, cougars, coyotes and a variety of upland birds.


Tags: British Columbia, Canada, Wilderness Hunt, Mule Deer Hunt, Hunting Trip