A Day of Hunting

Dictated by Richard
Typed by Arta

... skinning tools on top of deep freeze in the garage ...

I got up at 5:45 am to drive to my father-in-laws. I was already ½ hour late. I should have been up earlier. We drove down south of Longview, almost to the Crowsnest Past, down to Indian Burial Graveyard, just north of the Crowsnest about 5 minutes. We drove to our normal location and walked about 1 kilometer into the bush. We sat down and started to wait. Maybe an hour afterwards at least 3 different groups of hunters surrounding us had shot at something I got antsy and told Chris, “I am going to walk into the bush another kilometer and see if I can see anything.” I walked in and climbed the right side of a valley because it was easier to see past and down into this huge open area that no one can get into without walking 2 miles. I wanted a clear view of this bowl of land north of where we hunt. By that time my shoes were full of water and I sat down and ate my mandarin orange. I pulled one of my spare sets of socks out of my backpack and put dry socks on and then used the walkie-talkie to ask Chris which way he wanted me to walk back. Of course, he said come back the long way which required climbing straight down into a gulch and then straight back up the other side.

I am in very good shape right now. I have biked to work and back more than 1000 kilometers this fall, but climbing the other side of that hill is not something I would choose to do a second time.

Braden Keeler gave this to me for Christmas.
The tool changed the way I think about skinning.
I wouldn't have liked to do this before I was thirty.

Half way up the hill I looked back across to the other side where I had come from and saw a hunter sitting at the top comfortably leaning against a tree and staring at me. I finished climbing the hill with a little more gusto and reached the top, completely out of breath, my heart racing and dripping sweat. As I got to this peak which is one of the highest peaks in the area, I looked across and along a little bowl on the top of the mountain on the other side where 2 deer were running in Chris’s direction. I called him and said they may be coming your way.

... deer is secured to the ceiling to hang for 5 days or so ...

They will be high on the hill if they are coming through.

I sat down to cool off.

I saw one deer’s head but no ass and the only way to identify so I can shoot is by seeing the rear end.

I laid down in a more stable shooting position and kept staring at that top of the mountain.

... I should have done this last night ...

Finally the deer turned and started walking the otheer way. As it was walking I could see horns on its head, so I knew I wouldn’t be shooting at that one. I was only there for white-tailed does. I walkie-talkied to Chris and told him it was a buck I had been staring at.

She was 3 or 4 years old.
She had her babies.
Now she will feed us for the winter.
This is better for her than being attacked by the coyotes this winter.

Suddenly to the left of the buck I saw a doe. I got comfortable. She wasn’t in a rush. I laid down as secure as I could. I aimed at her shoulders. After my shot, instead of looking through the scope, I looked with my eyes to see if I could catch her running if I had missed her. She ran as fast as anything could run, but more in a downhill direction. Not away from me, but to the left, downhill. Usually they will fall where they are if you hit them properly. I assumed I had scared her and she was making her way out of the area.

... this tool makes all the difference...

I decided to walk over to where I shot at her and see if I could stalk her for a while and catch up to her. It was a long shot, probably 250 to 350 yards, which means just barely at the range of where my gun is reasonably accurate. When I arrived over there, there was blood everywhere in the snow and blood along her trail down the mountain. Usually stalking an animal is pretty tricky, but it was easy to follow the blood trail. I was happy to have come over to look at the sight, for with this much blood she was a goner and I was going to catch up to her and take her out of the mountains and over to the truck.

I walked and walked for so long and the blood trail never stopped. I walked and walked and couldn’t imagine something having this much blood in its body. I caught up to her, but when I did she ran through the bushes, before I got another shot at her. By this time I had walked almost all the way back to Chris, maybe 200 yards away.

She got up from where I found her and she ran straight to Chris.

She came through 20 feet away from him.

He took one shot and missed, but then got a second chance and got her. He aimed low. But he got her.

Natives can hunt anytime.
I need a tag.  See my name?

After 2 miles or more of climbing through the mountains, I chased this deer all the way through the mountains so he could get the kill shot. After his second shot, on the walkie-talkie I said as quickly as I could, I don’t care if you hit it. I am tagging this deer. It is my deer. He laughed and said fine, whatever. My pride required that deer.

... the job is done now ... time to let the meat hang ...

I performed last rights. I opened her up, dressed her and dragged her rest of the way to the car. Usually dragging a 100 pound sack of potatoes along the ground is arduous, but when I am so full of adrenalin, I could hardly tell I was dragging her along.

... let's get this mess into the garbage ... no putting it out for the crows ...

When I got back to the truck and ate a sandwich, I noticed I was so tired, I could hardly stand back up.

We drove back into town and opened Arta’s garage.

I usually hang a deer by the hind quarters but we had to hang this deer from the front legs, which will make skinning it tonight more difficult, but it shouldn’t be too much of a bother.

I am at Arta’s, dictating, but I am going to go home and take a nap.

Richard