An Outdoorsman’s Journal - Last minute muley

An Outdoorsman’s Journal

Hello friends, This is the second and last week I will be writing to you about my Montana elk and mule deer hunt. This week’s column is pure go-for-it hunting as in get up early, climb a mountain and enjoy the view. My longtime buddy Todd Cibulka of Poynette was along for this adventure but did not have an elk or deer tag. Our adventure would be in the Bozeman, Mont. area and, with travel, it was 11 days of good times.

Tuesday, Oct. 24 High 50, Low 34

Todd and I had a spike camp about a half-hour down the mountain from the main place that I did almost all of my hunting. Where I hunted was a park at the top of a peak where deer and elk pass through and feed. A park is an area of grass that can be a half-acre or several. This would be my last hunt at this level as I was not seeing an elk, had heard no shooting and had to come up with a plan B.

Unfortunately a dense fog limited visibility to about 40 yards. I did have a rather unique experience. For several days I had been watching a huge owl that apparently calls this area home and I felt like we were becoming friends. This morning as night was becoming day, my friend landed about 20 feet above me in a large pine tree about 10 yards away. I had a gut feeling that proved to be correct. That gut feeling was that my friend was about to make a bad decision and that was that it was going to literally fly/swoop/attack. About two seconds before this happened I held my 300 BAR directly in its path and the big bird missed my head by 5 feet.

Kind of bad luck. On opening day, after three days of scouting, seeing and maybe harvesting an elk looked like it was going to happen. I did my climb and was set up two hours before daylight. It was not two minutes after sitting down in what I would consider a perfect mood that a lone wolf howled no more than 200 yards away. Though it was very cool to listen to the wolf as it was very close, bad news came when it was joined by five others that were spread out over a good square mile and howled for three full hours. This would happen again on Sunday and I knew I was doomed. Wolves eat elk. Elk can and should move out of the immediate path of wolves. I am not venting, wolves have their place. Over the next six days not an elk would be seen as in actual sighting, track or on a trail camera.

Gear; here is a funny story, kind of. Everyone that knows me is aware that I am hard on everything I own including my body. On this trip, a bit of my gear passed away, one 10x10 tent, a Coleman stove, a Coleman propane lantern and my 300 locked up in the action and became unusable along with many other issues. Gear is a huge part of my life!

The last three days of this trip there was a total flip in weather that meant constant snow fall and a high of 20 at best. Last year I witnessed what I will call long-term fatigue. That was not as serious this year but the obvious fact that there were zero elk in the area did not help with the fatigue. At the end of each day, I would start the hike down from my hunt and something that was super cool was to see from about 800 feet above camp where Todd had a campfire going. A campfire, when you are sleeping on the ground and traveling in the dark, is a beautiful thing.

The mule deer! On the last afternoon we went for an 8-mile/16-mile round trip ride on my 2-up 570 Polaris ATV. It was 18 degrees, and we were going to explore a mountain road for elk sign. A description of these roads would be not for the faint of heart. If you go off the side, you will die, and it may be a chore to find your body as who would know where to look? First off, we got cold but handled it, second off we did not see an elk track. With an hour of daylight left, Todd pulled over to an area where he had been hunting wolves. I was told to climb up the mountain, stay on the south side and look for a spot to hunt deer. As is always the case on a body that is entering its 62nd winter, the climb was tiring.

Good news came my way when I spotted fresh mule deer tracks. I kept climbing hoping for a better view and both a better view and more deer tracks appeared. I found paradise, was soaked in sweat and within two minutes saw a doe mule deer running. I soon spotted a buck, put the crosshairs of my BAR 30:06 on his shoulders and by God I had me a muley.

We laughed our heads off at our change of luck and had a “we got a buck” party at camp! The drive home was in 1,175 miles of snow, and I am already planning next year’s hunt if I draw a tag.

Climb till just before your brain, lungs and legs blow out.

Sunset