I drew a tag and was staring down a long lonely road trip by myself. So, I asked my four favorite people if they wanted to explore Wyoming together. We spent a full week looking over antelope bucks, wading in the river, riding horses, and playing in the Wyoming high desert. Although my goal was to find an antelope for the freezer and the wall, the most important souvenir I brought back from Wyoming was the time spent with my wife and kids and the memories that will last forever.

The post Wyoming Antelope appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

This quote from Tom Kelly is my turkey hunting anthem.

He (the turkey hunter) will experience moments of tragedy of such depth and feeling as to preclude them form having been written by anyone but Euripides, and he will exalt in periods of piercing rapture previously understood only by willing Christian martyrs being eaten by willing lions. He will operate primarily in a climate not of desire but of compulsion. This is painfully evident in my own case. I do not hunt turkeys because I want to; I hunt them because I have to. I would really rather not do it, but I am helpless in the grip of my compulsion.

Tom Kelly from his book Tenth Legion

The post Dos Turkey appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

Hunting turkeys has a way of making me question my sanity. I’ve killed plenty of turkeys before, but there is usually a moment on every trip where it feels like getting a turkey to gobble, let alone call it into range, seems like a Herculean task. It just seems impossible.

I felt like this as I sat with my back to a giant alligator juniper tree, shaded by its overhanging branches. I had made three setups that day with my decoys and had spent two and half to three hours at each stand waiting with agonizing patience. The wind howled, and I wondered if there was any point to being in the field. My tired, closed eyes burst open when a ringing gobble cut through the blustery afternoon. After a few light strokes on my box calls and a couple more gobbles from him, he walked confidently into range looking for me.

As I tightened the straps of my backpack around him for the long hike back to the truck, I couldn’t help but admire the lonely beauty of this tom turkey which paired perfectly with the lonely beauty of the rugged landscape.

The post Arizona Turkey appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

The backstraps of this buck have long since been grilled and eaten, and if you stop by our house on a Tuesday night, you will most likely be eating tacos with ground venison. The kids are tired of me saying, “Don’t leave any of that meat on your plate. Daddy carried it out of a canyon.” It get’s an eyeroll every time, but they are starting to figure the importance of a clean plate.

And while the venison has kept us in red meat these past few months, the skull and antlers of this coues deer buck are currently hanging on the family room wall. I see them daily when I spend time in that room, and the kids like to ask questions about the different species and hunts that they will be able to go on in the coming years. Although the hunt only lasted a couple of days, the memories made in the field and the hours spent with friends live on at the dinner table and in the stories told in my home.

The post Arizona Coues Deer appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

I sat in one spot from 6:00am to 9:50. The wind was howling, and I had every article of clothing on trying to stay warm and still. I made a deal with myself that I would sit until 10 before moving to another spot. It had been an uneventful morning and boredom was eating away at my stamina to stay put and a chill had settled into my bones.

The wind lulled and I called one more time. The empty woods exploded as a gobbler answered my call. The sudden action startled me and I was able to shift my gun to cover where the gobble had sounded from. Within a minute, he came into view and stood proudly looking at the decoys. Without another sound, he moved forward and skirted the edge of the decoys. He didn’t appear anxious to move closer, so when he craned his neck to look at the decoys again, I pulled the trigger and the gun thundered.

He flopped while I jumped from the base of the tree and willed my aching legs forward. I sunk to my knees next to my prey and couldn’t believe my luck. Things happen fast in the turkey woods and I said a prayer of thanks. Gathering my gear and decoys, I looped the turkey’s feet and head with a strand of paracord and slowly walked the two miles back to the truck. The sun shone brightly and it wasn’t long until the hike worked the cold out of my feet.

The post Arizona Turkey Hunting appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

Within the first few moments of daylight, I spotted this buck feeding into the sunlit hillside about a mile away. At that distance, I could see he had a mature frame, and with wind and rain in the forecast, I took but a moment to pack my gear and take off after him.

The prickly pear cactus and cat claw hiding amongst the waste high yellow grass grabbed at my clothing as I hiked briskly through the canyon. I slipped and slid over the loose rocks and finally worked into a position amongst a small cluster of trees where I could see the hillside that the buck had been feeding on.

Ten excruciating minutes passed while I scanned the landscape looking for any sign of the deer. Every conceivable scenario played out in my mind and I had almost convinced myself that the buck had simply fed over the hill, until he stepped out at 275 yards. With the rifle steadied on my pack, the bullet found its mark, and the buck dropped in the tall grass.

I drug the buck into the bottom of the canyon beneath the shade of a large oak tree and quartered the small bodied desert deer, leaving nothing to waste. It was a long walk back to the truck but a heavy pack is the sweet gift of success. Well, that and a freezer full of meat.

The post Arizona – Coues Deer appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

As expected, the mountains in Idaho were as steep as they were beautiful. The weather was fickle and the hunting was tough, but we persevered in search of a mature mule deer buck. We covered over 60 miles, and in seven days, we saw a big cinnamon bear, a wolf, a bunch of grouse, a whole mess of does, and 7 bucks. The last morning the biggest buck of the trip gave us the slip, and with about a half hour left, we found a small forked horn to put my tag on.

I went to Idaho with no expectations and was rewarded with a week in some of the prettiest country I’d ever seen. The freezer is piled high with fresh hand wrapped packages of meat, and I strengthened a friendship in a way that only happens when you share a hunting camp. This won’t be my last trip to Idaho.

The post Idaho – Mule Deer appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

October on the border treated us pretty well. We knocked down a couple of mature coues deer for the freezer which will make for some good meals this winter. There’s never a dull moment on these backpack hunts. Between trying to find enough water to drink and watching the drug runners working the mountains, this hunt keeps you on your toes. This is my favorite form of grocery shopping.

The post Coues Deer appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

I followed along, watching and listening. I feel comfortable in the outdoors, but this hunt held quite a bit more weight. I’d been building points for a number of years and the moment was finally here. The first six days of the hunt had ebbed and flowed. In the previous days, we had been close on several bulls, but the weather was hot and the moon was full which allowed the elk to spend most of their night rutting and feeding, and most of the day time asleep and out of sight.

But on this evening it was different. The bluff we were on seemed to crawl with elk. We had pushed a few cow elk and could hear them rolling rocks as they skittered away, but we could hear a bull bugling and raking a tree ahead. The sun was setting and we were losing our last bit of light. We pushed forward in time to see two mature bulls clashing antlers. I moved forward while Don hung back behind a juniper and cow called. The two males stopped their ritualistic dance and turned in our direction, closing the distance.

All I could see was antlers walking by me. I forced myself to focus, and when the first bull’s head was out of sight behind a tree, I drew my bow and waited. Each step he took seemed in slow motion. I could see the mud on his face and hear his breathing as he plodded forward. As his front near leg stepped forward, my arrow found it’s mark and he crashed through the trees and tipped over a mere 60 yards away.

As any hunter knows, there is a strange marriage of excitement and sorrow, thankfulness and pride that fills the soul after a successful hunt. Excitement in the moment, sorrow for taking a life, thankfulness for the sustenance that life brings, and pride in a quick kill.

All of that gives way, when you stand over a 800 pound animal and know that the real work is just beginning. We skinned and quartered the old bull where he fell, taking each last bit of meat, knowing that it would feed my family and friends. The sun had long since taken the light from the sky and was replaced by Orion the Hunter and a waning moon.

I am beyond grateful for this elk and the long life he lived. I didn’t deserve such a fine trophy and could not of dreamed of harvesting such an animal. I am thankful for mentors and friends who showed me the way.

The post Arizona Elk Hunting appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.

Scouting didn’t go as planned on the day before season opened. We were unsuccessful roosting any birds in the evening and morale for opening morning was pretty low. Our only play was to head back to an area we’d driven through around noon where we had seen a few birds moving through the trees. We figured we’d work one of the two-tracks out in the morning darkness and see if we could get lucky and hear a bird on the limb. It wasn’t a great plan, but seemed to be our only option.

Luck was with us, a tom started gobbling across the canyon in the gray light. We worked one of the ridges out to get close to him, set out some decoys and did some real light calling. Ten minutes later while he was still in his tree gobbling, two other gobblers came screaming into our setup and met with a quick end. Austin and I stood there in disbelief looking down at two mature Merriam’s gobblers realizing that our 2019 Arizona turkey hunt was over just like that.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from turkey hunting – It’s better to be lucky than good.

The post Turkey Double appeared first on Arizona Wanderings.