December 30, 2015
Kitchen Officially Finished
With the delivery of our new refrigerator, the kitchen is now finished (in just under a year)! From the new floor to the new lighting and everything in between, we're super happy with the way things turned out. Sure, it looks a lot better, but it's also way more functional and fun to cook in. Take a look at the before photos to gauge the improvement for yourself.
November 23, 2015
Fun with Pallets
After surfacing a wall with pallets and having it turn out well, I decided to try out a few more pallet projects. First was the construction of two pallet-framed mirrors for the bathroom.
Then I picked up my European mount at the taxidermist. I had originally planned to use a commercial device to attach it to the wall. After doing just that and finding that it stuck half way out into the living room, I committed to building my own mounting device out of, you guessed it, pallet wood.
In the end, I think both projects turned out really well! Maybe I should start selling pallet things on Etsy.
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| Total cost of mirrors was about $20 each |
Then I picked up my European mount at the taxidermist. I had originally planned to use a commercial device to attach it to the wall. After doing just that and finding that it stuck half way out into the living room, I committed to building my own mounting device out of, you guessed it, pallet wood.
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| Mount complete with tip of second arrow to enter the bull |
In the end, I think both projects turned out really well! Maybe I should start selling pallet things on Etsy.
November 18, 2015
Remodel Update
Today was toilet day. I started by removing our old toilet, which always flushed twice and used a shit ton of water (pun intended) each time. Once removed, I was able to rip out the old flooring and install cement backer board within the toilet alcove. With the toilet removed, I decided to be artistic and attempt to duplicate a decorative wall I saw on Pinterest. The previous day I tore apart and sanded some pallets I acquired for free on Craigslist, so today they were ready for staining, trimming, and attaching to the wall. Since we already had the stain and I resused the nails pulled from the pallets, all this little project cost me was time and two bloody knuckles obtained while pallet wrestling.
When the wall was completed, I installed a new, high efficiency toilet. This install in temporary until we pick some bathroom tile, but this way we only had to be without a toilet for about 3.5 hours.
When the wall was completed, I installed a new, high efficiency toilet. This install in temporary until we pick some bathroom tile, but this way we only had to be without a toilet for about 3.5 hours.
November 13, 2015
Bathroom Remodel
The bathroom remodel has been initiated! The cabinets arrived during our last bout of traveling, so I tore into the bathroom as soon as I was around for more than a day. First on the agenda, remove the old, hideous cabinets and tear out the drywall behind them.
Next up was to split the plumbing so we can have two sinks. This involved cutting out a galvanized 3-way junction in the drain line and replacing it with a 4-way PVC cross, and extending left and right. The water lines were easy to modify, because, well, PEX is easy.
Similarly, I split the single wall sconce receptacle in two so we can have two sconces, one centered on each sink. I also relocated with two wall outlets so they wouldn't be positioned directly over the new sinks.
Once the drywall was replaced, I took to mudding, priming, and texturing the wall. With that messy work done, it was time for the cabinets . . . or was it.
After removing the old cabinets and linoleum flooring, I noticed some very compromised (rotten) subflooring. Out with the bad, in with the good. Also, we're planning to tile the new floor, so I began researching how to make that happen. I read about this stuff called backer board (common in the tiling world but new to me) that you're supposed to install below the tile, so I just put a layer of that down over the whole bathroom prior to starting in on the cabinets.
My anal-retentive nature came in handy when installing the cabinets, making sure to get everything even and level in all three dimensions.
So this is where the bathroom stands right now. We'll hopefully get the soapstone counter top late next week. Tiling and toilet replacement will commence in the meantime.
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| Old Plumbing (Single Sink, Centered on Wall) |
Next up was to split the plumbing so we can have two sinks. This involved cutting out a galvanized 3-way junction in the drain line and replacing it with a 4-way PVC cross, and extending left and right. The water lines were easy to modify, because, well, PEX is easy.
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| Water and drain lines re-plumbed for two sinks |
Similarly, I split the single wall sconce receptacle in two so we can have two sconces, one centered on each sink. I also relocated with two wall outlets so they wouldn't be positioned directly over the new sinks.
 |
| Drywall replaced |
Once the drywall was replaced, I took to mudding, priming, and texturing the wall. With that messy work done, it was time for the cabinets . . . or was it.
After removing the old cabinets and linoleum flooring, I noticed some very compromised (rotten) subflooring. Out with the bad, in with the good. Also, we're planning to tile the new floor, so I began researching how to make that happen. I read about this stuff called backer board (common in the tiling world but new to me) that you're supposed to install below the tile, so I just put a layer of that down over the whole bathroom prior to starting in on the cabinets.
My anal-retentive nature came in handy when installing the cabinets, making sure to get everything even and level in all three dimensions.
So this is where the bathroom stands right now. We'll hopefully get the soapstone counter top late next week. Tiling and toilet replacement will commence in the meantime.
October 27, 2015
Sad but Cool
After much deliberation, I've decided to post the video I took of the elk I shot. This video shows the last few minutes of the bull's life, so if you don't want to see animal death and aren't ready for the unfortunate reality that animals do not die instantly no matter what you shoot them with, don't watch it.
While it is admittedly sad to see such an amazing animal die, it is also pretty unique that I was able to get this footage. I was about 150 yards away when I saw the bull standing in the field. By the time I got my tripod set up and camera rolling, it had bedded down. At first, I wasn't sure if it was the bull I shot, and it actually seemed a little bigger so I was leaning toward it being a different bull. I eventually noticed signs that it was injured and gradually figured it out.
This footage begins about 45 minutes after my first shot. Toward the end of the video, you can see part of my second arrow sticking out high on its right side.
I had great difficulty finding a song to put to this as anything remotely happy seemed inappropriate. For better or worse, I settled on Joshua Bell's sad violin sounds in Elegie-O Douz Printemps d'Autefoix (I can't say it either).
While it is admittedly sad to see such an amazing animal die, it is also pretty unique that I was able to get this footage. I was about 150 yards away when I saw the bull standing in the field. By the time I got my tripod set up and camera rolling, it had bedded down. At first, I wasn't sure if it was the bull I shot, and it actually seemed a little bigger so I was leaning toward it being a different bull. I eventually noticed signs that it was injured and gradually figured it out.
This footage begins about 45 minutes after my first shot. Toward the end of the video, you can see part of my second arrow sticking out high on its right side.
I had great difficulty finding a song to put to this as anything remotely happy seemed inappropriate. For better or worse, I settled on Joshua Bell's sad violin sounds in Elegie-O Douz Printemps d'Autefoix (I can't say it either).
October 07, 2015
Hunting Montana: Version 1.3 (Superbull VxV)
Since my last post I went back out hunting two more times; both with my neighbor, Jeff. He took me to a place he knew about much closer to town than where I had been going. On the first day out, we located two cows and followed them around for most of the morning. At one point I was as close as 113 yards, but couldn't manage to get any closer. That evening we went back to Missoula so Jeff could use his Neil Young tickets.
A couple days later, we went back out to the same area in search of the large herd(s) we knew were in the vicinity. This time we were with another of Jeff's friends, Roland. The three of us hunted hard all morning and were unable to locate any elk. At 10am we decided to split up and walk through a section of forest and planned to meet two hours later. At 10:30, I thought I heard a couple distant bugles, but I wasn't sure and I couldn't tell where they were coming from.
After covering closer to a mile about an hour later, I once again heard bugles. This time, I could pinpoint a pretty precise direction. I quickly covered ground in that direction with the wind in my favor, periodically hearing bugles along the way. Eventually I saw a bull elk standing on the edge of a meadow about 100 yards away. It seemed he saw movement in my direction before I saw it and froze, so all I could do at that point was sit still and wait for him to go back to feeding. While I was doing this, I noticed several cows and at least one more bull in the woods behind it. Shortly after, I noticed Jeff in the woods near me, pursuing the same herd.
When I watched Jeff eventually make a move around the right side of the meadow to try and get closer, I backed out and made a move left around the meadow. I was hoping that we would either push elk toward each other, or perhaps have an opportunity at an elk that happened to stray from the herd. Sneaking in on the main group in that flat terrain with large stretches of open areas just didn't seem possible.
As I moved around to the left, out of view of the herd, I planned to get even with them and hang close until an opportunity presented itself. Sooner than I expected, a tremendous opportunity came my way in the form of a 5-point bull. I heard and saw him at the same time. He was trotting across my field of vision, coming directly from where I last saw the herd. He was also getting closer as he came in and crossed in front of me in the moderately spaced aspen trees.
I already had an arrow nocked, so I pulled out my range finder. In a matter of seconds I realized that this encounter was going to be close enough and fast enough that I wouldn't have time to use it. In fact, I barely had time to put it back down. Unable to find a place to quickly set it down with minimal movement (the bull was now within 50 yards), I stuck the range finder between my legs and drew my bow as soon as the bull's head passed behind a cluster of aspens.
At full draw, I rotated with the bull keeping my 30-yard pin near his vitals. After trotting through a couple of shooting lanes, it seemed my rotating motion got his attention. He stopped, looked at me, and I released instinctively. I couldn't tell if or where my arrow hit him and he immediately ran off, but not far. I saw him run about 15 yards and stop to rest behind a thicket of thick, brushy trees. I could make out his silhouette through the thick tangle of branches. I thought that if I made a good shot and guessed the distance right, I might watch him fall and die right there in the next few minutes. Just in case, I nocked another arrow.
Instead, about one minute later, a car drove by on a seldom-used gravel road. When the car was within about 20 yards of the bull, he bolted and ran back in the direction he came from. As he passed through a shooting lane at a high rate of speed, I made the best cow elk sound I could with my mouth. He immediately stopped to investigate the sound and was met with a second arrow as he did so. This time I could see the fletching of my arrow sticking out of its side as it sprinted off. It was high, but at the time looked like it still might have been in the lung region.
I decided to wait 30 minutes before searching for blood and tracking the bull. A minute after my second shot, Roland came walking out of the woods to my left, the direction the bull was heading. He said he saw the bull but had no idea I had shot it. He also said that he had been cow calling as he walked in my direction just for good measure, having not heard the bugles and having no idea there was a herd nearby. While I never heard his cow calling, there is a good chance the bull did and was heading toward Roland to investigate.
I relayed my story to Roland and we did an initial search for blood where the bull had stood before being spooked by the car. We didn't find a lot, but we found enough to confirm that my first arrow had hit the bull. After a half hour, we followed blood for about 20 yards before we lost the blood trail. I decided to go ahead in the direction the bull had run and hopefully find a dead elk on the ground. After traveling in about 150 yards in that direction, I stopped to get my bearings. In looking around, I noticed a bull elk standing in the field to my left, about 120 yards off. He looked bigger than the one I shot, and I quickly tried to get Roland's attention as I set up my tripod and video camera. By the time I got my camera set up, the bull had bedded down in the meadow. I told Roland how I would go after this bull, and he was soon off on a stalk to get within range.
As he stalked, I stayed by the video camera and watched the bull. He was bedded and occasionally looking around. At one point, he seemed to wallow around in the dry grass and dirt. I soon saw him lay his head on the ground, which was my first indication that this bull was wounded and may very well have been the bull I had shot. My view of the bull was mostly obscured by grass at this point, but I could barely make out its belly moving up and down as it breathed. A few minutes later, the movement stopped. Now I was sure this was my bull and that I had just observed and filmed the last 10 minutes of his life. I walked out into the field, flagged down Roland who was about half way to closing the distance on the now dead bull, and we walked up to it together.
The experience of walking up to this massive, majestic, and beautiful animal after watching it expire was too much for me to comprehend at the moment. I thought about the previous 13 days I had spent pursuing elk in Montana, the previous five years I'd spent honing my sills to help make such an opportunity possible, the mentoring I'd received from Jake to help me believe that shooting a bull elk with an arrow was even possible, the missed shot I had at a cow earlier in the season, and the luck required for this encounter to have happened. The understanding of the process of shooting, dying, butchering, and eating was particularly intense with this animal, mostly because the dying part typically happens out of sight.
When these feelings were combined with the elation I felt at not only filling my elk tag, but harvesting a bull that would pretty much fill up the rest of our freezer space, I wasn't sure how to handle myself. Although a modest 5 x 5 bull, I've decided to name my first bull "Superbull VxV".
After taking several pictures, Roland and I went to work skinning and quartering the bull. Our forensic analysis revealed that my first shot was a little far back and likely a single lung, pass through shot (with the same arrow I shot the deer and pine tree with earlier this year, which I sadly wasn't able to find). My second shot hit higher than I thought, striking the bottom of the spine above the lungs. Given the rushed nature of both shots, I feel good about the shot placement. However, I know that better shot placement would have resulted in a quicker death and I now have a better idea of what to work on to become an even better shot.
When Roland and I were about half way done, Jeff walked over to us from where he had continued to pursue the herd after I shot. Jeff had no idea I had shot or that I had even found the herd, so it was completely random that he happened by us on his way back to our meeting location. He had managed to call a bull to within 50 yards but never had a shot through the trees. Jeff helped finish cutting up the elk and we all worked hard to get the meat and antlers back in camp just as it got dark. It's hard to imagine a more intense, powerful, emotional, and rewarding experience.
A couple days later, we went back out to the same area in search of the large herd(s) we knew were in the vicinity. This time we were with another of Jeff's friends, Roland. The three of us hunted hard all morning and were unable to locate any elk. At 10am we decided to split up and walk through a section of forest and planned to meet two hours later. At 10:30, I thought I heard a couple distant bugles, but I wasn't sure and I couldn't tell where they were coming from.
After covering closer to a mile about an hour later, I once again heard bugles. This time, I could pinpoint a pretty precise direction. I quickly covered ground in that direction with the wind in my favor, periodically hearing bugles along the way. Eventually I saw a bull elk standing on the edge of a meadow about 100 yards away. It seemed he saw movement in my direction before I saw it and froze, so all I could do at that point was sit still and wait for him to go back to feeding. While I was doing this, I noticed several cows and at least one more bull in the woods behind it. Shortly after, I noticed Jeff in the woods near me, pursuing the same herd.
When I watched Jeff eventually make a move around the right side of the meadow to try and get closer, I backed out and made a move left around the meadow. I was hoping that we would either push elk toward each other, or perhaps have an opportunity at an elk that happened to stray from the herd. Sneaking in on the main group in that flat terrain with large stretches of open areas just didn't seem possible.
As I moved around to the left, out of view of the herd, I planned to get even with them and hang close until an opportunity presented itself. Sooner than I expected, a tremendous opportunity came my way in the form of a 5-point bull. I heard and saw him at the same time. He was trotting across my field of vision, coming directly from where I last saw the herd. He was also getting closer as he came in and crossed in front of me in the moderately spaced aspen trees.
I already had an arrow nocked, so I pulled out my range finder. In a matter of seconds I realized that this encounter was going to be close enough and fast enough that I wouldn't have time to use it. In fact, I barely had time to put it back down. Unable to find a place to quickly set it down with minimal movement (the bull was now within 50 yards), I stuck the range finder between my legs and drew my bow as soon as the bull's head passed behind a cluster of aspens.
At full draw, I rotated with the bull keeping my 30-yard pin near his vitals. After trotting through a couple of shooting lanes, it seemed my rotating motion got his attention. He stopped, looked at me, and I released instinctively. I couldn't tell if or where my arrow hit him and he immediately ran off, but not far. I saw him run about 15 yards and stop to rest behind a thicket of thick, brushy trees. I could make out his silhouette through the thick tangle of branches. I thought that if I made a good shot and guessed the distance right, I might watch him fall and die right there in the next few minutes. Just in case, I nocked another arrow.
Instead, about one minute later, a car drove by on a seldom-used gravel road. When the car was within about 20 yards of the bull, he bolted and ran back in the direction he came from. As he passed through a shooting lane at a high rate of speed, I made the best cow elk sound I could with my mouth. He immediately stopped to investigate the sound and was met with a second arrow as he did so. This time I could see the fletching of my arrow sticking out of its side as it sprinted off. It was high, but at the time looked like it still might have been in the lung region.
I decided to wait 30 minutes before searching for blood and tracking the bull. A minute after my second shot, Roland came walking out of the woods to my left, the direction the bull was heading. He said he saw the bull but had no idea I had shot it. He also said that he had been cow calling as he walked in my direction just for good measure, having not heard the bugles and having no idea there was a herd nearby. While I never heard his cow calling, there is a good chance the bull did and was heading toward Roland to investigate.
I relayed my story to Roland and we did an initial search for blood where the bull had stood before being spooked by the car. We didn't find a lot, but we found enough to confirm that my first arrow had hit the bull. After a half hour, we followed blood for about 20 yards before we lost the blood trail. I decided to go ahead in the direction the bull had run and hopefully find a dead elk on the ground. After traveling in about 150 yards in that direction, I stopped to get my bearings. In looking around, I noticed a bull elk standing in the field to my left, about 120 yards off. He looked bigger than the one I shot, and I quickly tried to get Roland's attention as I set up my tripod and video camera. By the time I got my camera set up, the bull had bedded down in the meadow. I told Roland how I would go after this bull, and he was soon off on a stalk to get within range.
As he stalked, I stayed by the video camera and watched the bull. He was bedded and occasionally looking around. At one point, he seemed to wallow around in the dry grass and dirt. I soon saw him lay his head on the ground, which was my first indication that this bull was wounded and may very well have been the bull I had shot. My view of the bull was mostly obscured by grass at this point, but I could barely make out its belly moving up and down as it breathed. A few minutes later, the movement stopped. Now I was sure this was my bull and that I had just observed and filmed the last 10 minutes of his life. I walked out into the field, flagged down Roland who was about half way to closing the distance on the now dead bull, and we walked up to it together.
The experience of walking up to this massive, majestic, and beautiful animal after watching it expire was too much for me to comprehend at the moment. I thought about the previous 13 days I had spent pursuing elk in Montana, the previous five years I'd spent honing my sills to help make such an opportunity possible, the mentoring I'd received from Jake to help me believe that shooting a bull elk with an arrow was even possible, the missed shot I had at a cow earlier in the season, and the luck required for this encounter to have happened. The understanding of the process of shooting, dying, butchering, and eating was particularly intense with this animal, mostly because the dying part typically happens out of sight.
When these feelings were combined with the elation I felt at not only filling my elk tag, but harvesting a bull that would pretty much fill up the rest of our freezer space, I wasn't sure how to handle myself. Although a modest 5 x 5 bull, I've decided to name my first bull "Superbull VxV".
After taking several pictures, Roland and I went to work skinning and quartering the bull. Our forensic analysis revealed that my first shot was a little far back and likely a single lung, pass through shot (with the same arrow I shot the deer and pine tree with earlier this year, which I sadly wasn't able to find). My second shot hit higher than I thought, striking the bottom of the spine above the lungs. Given the rushed nature of both shots, I feel good about the shot placement. However, I know that better shot placement would have resulted in a quicker death and I now have a better idea of what to work on to become an even better shot.
When Roland and I were about half way done, Jeff walked over to us from where he had continued to pursue the herd after I shot. Jeff had no idea I had shot or that I had even found the herd, so it was completely random that he happened by us on his way back to our meeting location. He had managed to call a bull to within 50 yards but never had a shot through the trees. Jeff helped finish cutting up the elk and we all worked hard to get the meat and antlers back in camp just as it got dark. It's hard to imagine a more intense, powerful, emotional, and rewarding experience.
September 27, 2015
Hunting Montana: Version 1.2 (Jane Doe's Last Stand)
I just returned from another three days of hunting for elk in the Beaverhead Mountains. I was in the same place as a I was a few weeks ago where I had no trouble finding elk every day, but this time they were elusive. In two and a half days, I saw/heard exactly zero elk and scared a handful of deer: and this is supposed to be approaching peak rut when they become easier to find. Frustrated, I decided to move south during the middle of day three, closer to where I had the mountain lion encounter (see Version 1.0).
In this new area, I discovered a road was closed that I was anticipating being open. In this, I saw an opportunity. Instead of hunting from my truck each morning and evening, I would backpack in to this difficult-to-access basin and see if I couldn't stir up any elk in the next few days. Thirty minutes later my backpack was packed and I was headed in. By 3:00 pm I had my camp set up, including tent, hammock, and bear hang. I left around 4:00 to head up the ridge I was camped near. There was a road (shown on my map) traversing the ridge about 2/3 of the way up, which I assumed would also be closed. When I got there, I found a fairly well maintained road with recent tire tracks. Did I just walk a whole bunch and delude myself into thinking I was in a more remote area than I really was? Probably.
I would periodically bugle and hope to hear a response either above or below me as I followed the road, at the same time walking quietly in hopes that I might discover an elk before it noticed me. At about 6:00 I was a good two miles from my camp when I saw a white ungulate butt near the top of a meadow. Given our separation, I could easily tell it was a doe. My first thought was, "Just my luck. I finally found fur and it's something I can't shoot." I used my range finder anyway, which told me the doe was 78 yards away. Where I had been hunting previously, I could only shoot antlered mule deer. After further internal mental debate, I convinced myself that I had moved far enough south that I had entered a different hunting unit, and in this unit I could only shoot antlerless mule deer. I realized this about the same time I noticed three more deer, all does, following the one I initially saw.
I've got fur in sight, it's legal to shoot, and they're just on the edge of my maximum shooting range. They're all feeding downhill through the meadow, which means they'll continue to get closer until they get to my elevation. There's a large tree in the middle of the meadow with branches all way to the ground, so I take a few steps to position myself in the trees at the edge of the meadow to shoot as soon as they come out from behind the big tree. My shooting lane is wide enough for them to take about 10 steps and be within the window the whole time. At the rate they were moving, this should be more than enough time to range and shoot one of the deer while they fed.
Of course, it can't be that easy. When the deer come out from behind the tree, I ranged them at 55 yards, but they didn't stop and feed. They walked about 15 steps before going back to feeding, not giving me an opportunity within my window. Now the tree immediately to my left was blocking a clear shot, and I was in a kneeling position. With four deer about 50 yards away, I had to stand up and take three steps in dry, crispy, crackly ground. I waited until all four heads were down feeding, and I stood up. Several seconds later, I took a step, but didn't weight that foot until I was sure they hadn't seen my movement. Weight foot, wait several more seconds until all four heads are feeding again, and repeat.
I now had a clear shot, but I was less hidden by the trees lining the meadow. I ranged the largest deer in the group at 53 yards. I slowly brought by bow up to draw position and waited for that deer to turn broadside, which she did a few seconds later. I drew by bow and noted that none of the deer seemed to notice. I sighted my 50 yard pin just above where I wanted to hit, focused on my target, and released. To say I was determined not to screw up the shot would be to put it mildly.
I couldn't see my arrow or where it hit, but about 1/2 second after the release, I heard a sound I'd often heard described; the slicing, hollow, thwack/thump of the rib cage taking a high velocity impact from a razor sharp object. Even so, all the deer ran 15 yards to the opposite side of the meadow, none of them acting injured. A few seconds later I thought I saw the white flicker of a tail, which I interpreted as Jane's end. After 10 minutes of waiting, I went to search for my arrow. Unable to find it, I began looking for blood. I didn't see any right away, so I started to second guess the sound I heard that made me so certain I'd made a good shot. Five yards from where she was when I shot, I found a good quantity of blood on the ground. I followed the blood trail and found a dead deer about 10 yards inside the tree line, about 25 yards from where I shot her.
Upon closer inspection I realized I'd made a perfect double lung shot, and the doe was even larger-bodied than I had thought. It was now 6:30, only 1.5 hours until dark. I was two miles from camp and four miles from my truck. I was now glad that the road I had been walking up seemed to be open, because the deer had expired about 150 feet from it. Over the course of the next three hours, I did the following:
In this new area, I discovered a road was closed that I was anticipating being open. In this, I saw an opportunity. Instead of hunting from my truck each morning and evening, I would backpack in to this difficult-to-access basin and see if I couldn't stir up any elk in the next few days. Thirty minutes later my backpack was packed and I was headed in. By 3:00 pm I had my camp set up, including tent, hammock, and bear hang. I left around 4:00 to head up the ridge I was camped near. There was a road (shown on my map) traversing the ridge about 2/3 of the way up, which I assumed would also be closed. When I got there, I found a fairly well maintained road with recent tire tracks. Did I just walk a whole bunch and delude myself into thinking I was in a more remote area than I really was? Probably.
I would periodically bugle and hope to hear a response either above or below me as I followed the road, at the same time walking quietly in hopes that I might discover an elk before it noticed me. At about 6:00 I was a good two miles from my camp when I saw a white ungulate butt near the top of a meadow. Given our separation, I could easily tell it was a doe. My first thought was, "Just my luck. I finally found fur and it's something I can't shoot." I used my range finder anyway, which told me the doe was 78 yards away. Where I had been hunting previously, I could only shoot antlered mule deer. After further internal mental debate, I convinced myself that I had moved far enough south that I had entered a different hunting unit, and in this unit I could only shoot antlerless mule deer. I realized this about the same time I noticed three more deer, all does, following the one I initially saw.
I've got fur in sight, it's legal to shoot, and they're just on the edge of my maximum shooting range. They're all feeding downhill through the meadow, which means they'll continue to get closer until they get to my elevation. There's a large tree in the middle of the meadow with branches all way to the ground, so I take a few steps to position myself in the trees at the edge of the meadow to shoot as soon as they come out from behind the big tree. My shooting lane is wide enough for them to take about 10 steps and be within the window the whole time. At the rate they were moving, this should be more than enough time to range and shoot one of the deer while they fed.
Of course, it can't be that easy. When the deer come out from behind the tree, I ranged them at 55 yards, but they didn't stop and feed. They walked about 15 steps before going back to feeding, not giving me an opportunity within my window. Now the tree immediately to my left was blocking a clear shot, and I was in a kneeling position. With four deer about 50 yards away, I had to stand up and take three steps in dry, crispy, crackly ground. I waited until all four heads were down feeding, and I stood up. Several seconds later, I took a step, but didn't weight that foot until I was sure they hadn't seen my movement. Weight foot, wait several more seconds until all four heads are feeding again, and repeat.
I now had a clear shot, but I was less hidden by the trees lining the meadow. I ranged the largest deer in the group at 53 yards. I slowly brought by bow up to draw position and waited for that deer to turn broadside, which she did a few seconds later. I drew by bow and noted that none of the deer seemed to notice. I sighted my 50 yard pin just above where I wanted to hit, focused on my target, and released. To say I was determined not to screw up the shot would be to put it mildly.
I couldn't see my arrow or where it hit, but about 1/2 second after the release, I heard a sound I'd often heard described; the slicing, hollow, thwack/thump of the rib cage taking a high velocity impact from a razor sharp object. Even so, all the deer ran 15 yards to the opposite side of the meadow, none of them acting injured. A few seconds later I thought I saw the white flicker of a tail, which I interpreted as Jane's end. After 10 minutes of waiting, I went to search for my arrow. Unable to find it, I began looking for blood. I didn't see any right away, so I started to second guess the sound I heard that made me so certain I'd made a good shot. Five yards from where she was when I shot, I found a good quantity of blood on the ground. I followed the blood trail and found a dead deer about 10 yards inside the tree line, about 25 yards from where I shot her.
Upon closer inspection I realized I'd made a perfect double lung shot, and the doe was even larger-bodied than I had thought. It was now 6:30, only 1.5 hours until dark. I was two miles from camp and four miles from my truck. I was now glad that the road I had been walking up seemed to be open, because the deer had expired about 150 feet from it. Over the course of the next three hours, I did the following:
- gutted, skinned, and butchered the deer,
- hauled the meat in game bags up to the road,
- tied the meat up in a tree,
- walked two miles back to camp,
- packed up my camp,
- walked two more miles with a full pack back to my truck,
- drove up the 4WD road to where I had left the meat hanging,
- packed the meat in the cooler,
- made one last attempt at finding my arrow, which I eventually found firmly embedded in the ground, and
- started driving home with a cooler full of meat!
It was a goal of mine to redeem myself by making a good shot on a deer or elk after shooting a pine tree instead of an elk earlier this year. While target shooting, every shot is a double lung kill shot out to about 70 yards. Shooting at live animals has proven to be much more difficult for me. I get too excited, think that the animal is going to move, and rush the shot. Now that I've proven I can make a good shot in a real situation, I hope I can make it a habit.
Firsts: This is the first mule deer I've ever shot, the first non-Whidbey Island deer I've killed with my bow, and my longest kill shot by about 20 yards.
The Arrow: The arrow I recovered late at night was no more worse for the wear. It also happens to be the same arrow I shot into a pine tree earlier this season and proceeded to excavate with a bone saw. With a bit more luck, this same arrow will shoot a pine tree, a mule deer, and an elk in the same year.
Jane: I referred to this deer using the non-so-clever name of Jane Doe. I've come to realize that naming the animals I've killed is commonplace for me. I believe I do this to single out the particular animal, thereby recognizing it as a unique being and appreciating the fact that I have ended it's life in order to feed my own. I know if Jane had a choice in the matter, she'd still be running around in the woods, dodging hunters, cougars, wolves, etc. Nonetheless, I thank her for her sacrifice and the resulting meat in my freezer.
September 23, 2015
Shed Foundation Complete
I took a break from elk hunting in Montana to help Kris hunt elk back in Washington. While he didn't shoot one, he had a couple of close encounters and came closer to sealing the deal than he ever had before.
When Ava and I returned to Montana (she was teaching a course for the Y in Seattle while I was hunting with Kris), we had our sewer repair/stump removal/gravel delivery scheduled. With that out of the way and gravel on hand, I was able to complete the foundation for the shed that I had previously excavated.
When Ava and I returned to Montana (she was teaching a course for the Y in Seattle while I was hunting with Kris), we had our sewer repair/stump removal/gravel delivery scheduled. With that out of the way and gravel on hand, I was able to complete the foundation for the shed that I had previously excavated.
The basic idea was to lay out the free, used railroad ties to support the walls that I will be framing in the next phase of things, level the ties, fix them together with metal braces, and backfill around the ties. I placed, leveled, and compacted about 3 inches of gravel below the ties prior to setting them in place. I also oriented the ties vertically to maximize the depth of the bottom of the tie; thereby minimizing the potential for frost damage to the foundation. Because the ties varied slightly in size, burial depths range from about 7.5 to 9 inches below grade.
The gravel inside the ties will be the floor of the finished shed. The framed walls will be nailed directly to the railroad ties.
Now that this phase is complete, I feel better about going back into the mountains in pursuit of the glorious wapiti.
September 11, 2015
Hunting Montana: Version 1.1
I just returned from spending a few more days in the forest searching for elk. On my first night out I was sitting quietly at a pass in a ridge, waiting for a few more minutes to tick by, when a coyote trotted by within 10 yards of me. It didn't realize I was there until it had passed me and got downwind, at which point he paused momentarily to glance back at me, then his pace quickened until he was out of sight.
Later that evening I was still-hunting further up the same ridge when I noticed a cow about 100 yards ahead of me, heading in the same direction. One cow soon turned in to three, and I was able to close the distance to about 60 yards. I followed them at this distance for a while, waiting for an opportunity to present itself for a shot through the thick pine trees. Eventually one of them saw me and the game was over.
A quick note on my tactics: the elk in this area were not bugling yet, so locating them via sound was out of the question, unless you already happen to be very close and hear them breaking branches as they walk. Dense forest covers about 100% of the area I was hunting, so spotting them from afar was out of the question, eliminating the common "spot-and-stalk" method. Given this situation, the only way I could find to locate the elk was to walk slowly and quietly through the forest until I saw one, hoping that I would see it before it saw me. I like to think of this as the "hope-and-stalk" method, but it is more commonly referred to as still-hunting.
The following evening, I hoped really well and my hope-and-stalking found me in the vicinity of two bull elk. Before I saw them, one of them barked, which is an undesirable sound as it means they've detected something suspicious. The bull that barked (we'll call him Barker) ran off, only to return a minute or two later when the other bull didn't follow. Barker continued to bark every few seconds for the next 20 minutes, all the while peering through the trees in my direction from about 60 yards away. I couldn't move with that much attention, so I hoped that by holding still he would forget about me and go back to feeding. He eventually did go back to feeding, but not without occasionally barking and regularly looking in my direction. At one point I drew my bow when Barker was headed for the one opening in the trees where I had a slight hope he would pause and present a shot, but he didn't and the shooting ally wasn't very good anyway. Eventually they fed out of sight, so I took my boots off, put on my extra pair of socks, and tried to sneak in for a shot. I got back to within about 60 yards when Barker's barking frequency escalated. I had been pegged. Eventually the other bull got on board with the looming threat that Barker had been barking about and they fled the scene.
The next morning I encountered a lone cow while hoping-and-stalking. This time I caught her completely unaware. I quickly pulled out my range finder, which read 42 yards. I then nocked an arrow, and with all my fidgeting the cow stopped walking and turned to look my way. Under normal circumstances, this would be a pretty easy shot. Yet once again, there were copious trees in the way. Where she stopped, I could see her vitals through a narrow, 3" gap in the trees, but I had to lean far to my left to take advantage of it. With the cow looking right at me, I was afraid to step to my left, so I came to full draw, leaned awkwardly out to my left, sighted for a 42-yard shot, and released. That cow will live to see another day, but the pine tree on the right is dead vegetarian meat.
I went back and forth emotionally between being upset at missing the shot (one I should have made), and thinking it was somewhat comical that I just shot a pine tree. I had visions of chopping down the pine tree, cutting it into small rounds, and stacking it in my chest freezer. Life goes on, for both me and the elk. Perhaps this shot error was a blessing in disguise. I've never hunted bulls during the rut before, and by the time I have another opportunity to hunt, the rut should have started. With the generous Montana archery season, I have confidence I'll be able to fill the freezer with something other than lodgepole pine.
Later that evening I was still-hunting further up the same ridge when I noticed a cow about 100 yards ahead of me, heading in the same direction. One cow soon turned in to three, and I was able to close the distance to about 60 yards. I followed them at this distance for a while, waiting for an opportunity to present itself for a shot through the thick pine trees. Eventually one of them saw me and the game was over.
A quick note on my tactics: the elk in this area were not bugling yet, so locating them via sound was out of the question, unless you already happen to be very close and hear them breaking branches as they walk. Dense forest covers about 100% of the area I was hunting, so spotting them from afar was out of the question, eliminating the common "spot-and-stalk" method. Given this situation, the only way I could find to locate the elk was to walk slowly and quietly through the forest until I saw one, hoping that I would see it before it saw me. I like to think of this as the "hope-and-stalk" method, but it is more commonly referred to as still-hunting.
The following evening, I hoped really well and my hope-and-stalking found me in the vicinity of two bull elk. Before I saw them, one of them barked, which is an undesirable sound as it means they've detected something suspicious. The bull that barked (we'll call him Barker) ran off, only to return a minute or two later when the other bull didn't follow. Barker continued to bark every few seconds for the next 20 minutes, all the while peering through the trees in my direction from about 60 yards away. I couldn't move with that much attention, so I hoped that by holding still he would forget about me and go back to feeding. He eventually did go back to feeding, but not without occasionally barking and regularly looking in my direction. At one point I drew my bow when Barker was headed for the one opening in the trees where I had a slight hope he would pause and present a shot, but he didn't and the shooting ally wasn't very good anyway. Eventually they fed out of sight, so I took my boots off, put on my extra pair of socks, and tried to sneak in for a shot. I got back to within about 60 yards when Barker's barking frequency escalated. I had been pegged. Eventually the other bull got on board with the looming threat that Barker had been barking about and they fled the scene.
The next morning I encountered a lone cow while hoping-and-stalking. This time I caught her completely unaware. I quickly pulled out my range finder, which read 42 yards. I then nocked an arrow, and with all my fidgeting the cow stopped walking and turned to look my way. Under normal circumstances, this would be a pretty easy shot. Yet once again, there were copious trees in the way. Where she stopped, I could see her vitals through a narrow, 3" gap in the trees, but I had to lean far to my left to take advantage of it. With the cow looking right at me, I was afraid to step to my left, so I came to full draw, leaned awkwardly out to my left, sighted for a 42-yard shot, and released. That cow will live to see another day, but the pine tree on the right is dead vegetarian meat.
I went back and forth emotionally between being upset at missing the shot (one I should have made), and thinking it was somewhat comical that I just shot a pine tree. I had visions of chopping down the pine tree, cutting it into small rounds, and stacking it in my chest freezer. Life goes on, for both me and the elk. Perhaps this shot error was a blessing in disguise. I've never hunted bulls during the rut before, and by the time I have another opportunity to hunt, the rut should have started. With the generous Montana archery season, I have confidence I'll be able to fill the freezer with something other than lodgepole pine.
September 08, 2015
Hunting Montana: Version 1.0
I just returned from my first stint of hunting in Montana. It began with three and a half days of scouting for sheep in the Tendoy Mountains. During this time, I saw exactly 0 rams, 0 ewes, and 0 lambs. The area was huge and the population of sheep was a diseased and dwindling 30 to 40. I did have a great time walking around in the mountains and spying on imaginary sheep through my binoculars and spotting scope.
On the first day, I saw 5 pronghorn, a coyote, and a couple rabbits. This was my most eventful day as far as seeing wildlife. It seems the hoard of hunters in the area quickly sent all fur-bearing animals into hiding.
Despite not seeing any sheep, I gave it a go on opening day. I woke up to cold temperatures and foggy skies. As I hiked up the hill to search for sheep, I assumed the fog would clear and I'd be alone up high with only the hard core hunters, giving me a better chance. Then it started raining. Then the rain turned to snow. By late morning, the skies cleared and I was able to glass a large area, once again turning up nothing.
On the first day, I saw 5 pronghorn, a coyote, and a couple rabbits. This was my most eventful day as far as seeing wildlife. It seems the hoard of hunters in the area quickly sent all fur-bearing animals into hiding.
Despite not seeing any sheep, I gave it a go on opening day. I woke up to cold temperatures and foggy skies. As I hiked up the hill to search for sheep, I assumed the fog would clear and I'd be alone up high with only the hard core hunters, giving me a better chance. Then it started raining. Then the rain turned to snow. By late morning, the skies cleared and I was able to glass a large area, once again turning up nothing.
The fact that I am more of a meat hunter than a trophy hunter became very apparent during these first 4 days of sheep scouting/hunting. What I really wanted to be doing was hunting elk, which yield a much higher meat reward upon success. So, after admitting this to myself, I decided to pursue a raghorn bull elk that two people I encountered reported seeing a few days prior. Both times he was seen it was in a relatively small patch of trees surrounded by open country, so I figured there was a good chance he was still in there.
I awoke the following morning, this time to clear skies, 20 degree temperatures, and thoroughly frozen ground. I made my way in about two miles to where the bull had been seen and was at his patch of trees at first light. I slowly and sneakily made my way through the trees, ultimately discovering that the bull had previously vacated this place he once called home.
Having had enough of not seeing animals, I gave up on sheep hunting and headed for more promising elk country, of which Montana has much. While driving I saw two buck mule deer and two pronghorn, the first fur I'd seen in quite a while, excluding squirrels. I pulled over in the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest, near the Idaho border in an area I'd heard held quite a few healthy elk herds. That night I still-hunted up a drainage, spooking two bucks and an elk at close range. Even though these encounters were far from presenting an opportunity to shoot an animal, it was much more excitement than I'd had for the last several days of hunting.
The next morning, I woke up early and made my way up the drainage to an area I knew had good feed and elk were more likely to be at that time of day. As I got close, I heard a bugle. I'd heard many bugles before, but this one was much more exciting because I actually had a tag to shoot the animal that made the sound. I quickly made my way toward the bugle, careful to keep the wind in my favor. After about 150 yards of moving quickly, I slowed my pace and soon saw elk through the trees about 100 yards off. I remained about this far away from the herd as I paralleled them up the drainage, which I was in and they were sidehilling just above. I decided to dog the herd (trail them at a distance), in hopes that an opportunity would present itself in the form of the herd bull or a satellite bull. After 15 minutes of this, the herd spooked but didn't go far. I was pretty sure I hadn't made myself visible, and the wind was still in the right direction, but you never know what 35 pairs of elk eyes can see. They didn't go far, so I continued to pursue them up the hill. When I was about 80 yards from the nearest cow, they spooked again, and again I thought I was being pretty conservative. Immediately after they spooked, I saw a mountain lion run across the hillside directly between the herd and myself, about 40 yards away.
This was the first mountain lion I'd ever seen in the wild, and it was impressive to see how quickly and stealthily it moved in rugged terrain. I only saw it for a couple of seconds as it streaked across my field of vision, after which it vanished back into the nothingness whence it came. I followed the herd up and down a mountain for the rest of the morning, but was never able to get close without being detected, and regularly kept an eye out behind me.
I'm headed back out for another stint in the woods soon, hunting elk in yet another new area. Hopefully this will result in more exciting stories like this, ideally yielding freezer fodder.
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