Whitetail Wanderings
First posted December 9, 2004 Last updated December 9, 2004

Bill Nelson

Prelude

6948 miles
495 gallons of gas
(14 mpg)
Motels- $800
Gas (plus sometimes food/coffee bought at a station)- $1020
Food- about $400
Licenses (including Paul's BH tag)- $954
Misc- $375
Total cost- something under $3500
11/6-12/3, 27 days
$130 per day
257 miles per day
18 States - California, Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, Nebraska, South Dakota,
Iowa*, Missouri*, Illinois*, Kentucky*, Tennessee*, North Carolina*, South
Carolina*, Arkansas*, Oklahoma*, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona (* - first time)
3 bucks, 1 doe, 1 dove
0 car troubles
330 photos
1 bottle of homemade blackberry wine
Gallons of coffee - who knows?
1 Thanksgiving dinner
2 servings mashed turnips
Visits with Paul Zweng & family, Gene Carrico, Fred Walker, Dan Ritter,
Bud and Sara Church, Tom Zweng & family, Hugh Stone, and Jennie Morehead.
12 shots fired
$274 lost at Blackjack
Special thanks to Willie Nelson, Elvis Presley, Robin Lee, Hank Williams Jr., John Denver, Air Supply, Dwight Yoakam, Ed Bruce, Tammy Wynette, Dion and
the Belmonts, Reba McEntire, The Doobie Brothers, Hank Snow, Carl Smith, Janis Joplin, Lefty Frizzell, Faron Young, Merle Haggard, LeAnn Rimes, and Clint
Black
With leave to go as my birthday present.

Synopsis

For those of you who don't want to wait in agony for the story to unfold-

I left with tags in my pocket for: one deer of any type in a zone of SD's Black Hills, two doe tags and two any-deer tags in the northwesternmost corner of Nebraska, three doe tags and one any-deer tag good for the entire state of Kentucky, and what was needed for dove hunting in South Carolina (bought via phone the night before our hunt). All of the doe tags, except two of KY's, came free with the main tag - the East is begging for population control. I downed what is for me a typical buck in SD, 8 points gross-scoring 81 (B&C entry = 170), with one lung shot with my .308 FAT, using my standard hunting load of a 165-gr Partition at 3000 fps, at 217 yds. I'd passed on a larger buck the evening before but now had to get on with the trip. In Nebraska, with the same gun set-up, I took my best-yet buck, a 16-inch wide 9-ptr with 8" tines scoring 118 (tooth-aged at 2.5 years old), with one lung shot at 150 yds; a button buck (sex unknown at the shot; I was filling a doe tag, and the regs classify it as a doe) at an unmeasured distance less than 150 yds, with one lung shot; a 5.5-year old doe at 40 yards with two shots and a finisher (you'll get the particulars in the tale), and I wounded a doe in the right shoulder with two shots at 200 yards. I also missed a coyote because of obviously faulty range estimation. Saw nothing worth shooting in KY (although my host did while I was eating Thanksgiving dinner in NC, and others did, as evidenced by the newspaper clippings I brought back; and as one fella did, just a few miles away, last year, as shown in this month's Field & Stream).
Went one for two on doves in South Carolina with Tom and son Joe.

Count those up and you get 11 shots, vs 12 mentioned in the Prelude; I miscounted for it. Brought home the two racks but forgot to saw off the nubbins of the less-than-button buck. Don't be sarcastic by dividing my trip costs by pounds of venison brought home.

Compared to the small-farm hunting in KY, everything we do is easy (excepting, perhaps, Siskiyou blacktails). Pressure and environment make a huge difference! (I understand that my experience is very limited; take that as a given whenever I make a pronouncement during the story.)

[I love this: I get to post snide comments to Bill's story, just like he did to mine! Bill, I always consider that your experience is limited when I listen to your tales! ]

We'll skip some of the boring details this time.

11/6 - 9

Surprise, I left a little later than I'd intended. Yay, I had good rearview mirror clearance this time.

I stopped at Paul's house to drop off the gear from the WY trip that he couldn't take on the airplane, his antelope backstraps that we'd held out from his meat donation, some of my sausages, and to give to his kids a couple of camo shirts that didn't fit me well enough. In return I was given a full back of Smarties; I'd mentioned that I'd looked without success for some before Halloween. An aside, their young'uns had made out like bandits 10/31.

Made it to Craig's at 7:10, we went out to a Mexican restaurant. Briefly paged through Craig's new copy of B&C's Awards book (which has his name), noticed Archie's name. I put in three hours at Boomtown and came away without $100. An Amy Clauson had been on the little stage, I sat there awhile as she taped an audition for a show perhaps called National Star. I thought her not so good- not well polished, inappropriate styling. Watch, she'll win!

In the morning I returned the cooler I'd borrowed from Craig in WY, and recovered the items, including one of my coolers, that I'd forgotten at his house. Left at noon and arrived in Wendover at 5:45. I didn't gas up across NV and my gauge gave me a scare, falling more quickly than expected as I approached town. Although Reno had been sunny and unusually warm, I soon was under the nearly full cloud cover that lasted the rest of the way. I checked my phone coverage a few times, had it at least in Winnemucca, Battle Mountain, and Wendover. Checked into the Peppermill, ate at the buffet, quit playing around 10:00 up $75. Had a few small runs this session. Back in my room I watched much of the Mission Impossible movie (yuck), and went to bed too late, at 1:30 mountain time.

On the way out I realized that I'd not used the Lucky Bucks that came with the room. Much too quickly I was down $100. [Right, Lucky Bucks my a-! Sounds like Sucker Bucks to me, and they got you. - David] Time to go! Saw quite a few road-killed deer, especially between the Wasatch summit and Echo. Reached Evanston and went to Wal-Mart but didn't find any NatGear I wanted. Got some propane, gloves, and camo gun tape, though. In the Squashed Bunny stretch of the highway between its two crossings of Black's Fork I exited to look for some furry targets. I found some old pellets and a fair number of tracks of somethings but no jacks. This was the second time I stopped around there - I sure don't know where all that roadkill comes from!

Took an hour and a quarter's nap outside a gas station in Wamsutter, still wearing the fleece gloves I'd been driving in. (my heater doesn't work very well) Arrived in Rawlins, called Gene to see if he'd acted on my request in my thank-you letter to clear with Charlie a trip out to the ranch. He'd not read it yet, having been busy with guiding, their cows, and letting down fences on his dad's place. But he said it'd be fine. Turned out his locks were still on the gates, so I'd have trouble getting very far. They'd had a heavy snow twelve days before, completely blocking McCarty Canyon; he warned me to watch road conditions and be careful about the weather expected. He also told me to call when I got out, that he'd come looking if he hadn't heard from me. He said that all the deer and elk had left his dad's ranch and that they might be out of Charlie's, too, but I could go to the Filmore if I wanted to see some big bucks. I started in rereading one of my whitetail books, hit the lights at midnight.

The weather was talking rain, snow, and slush, with more east, so I decided to pass on spending the day at Five Buttes with its risks of mud and the delay of my driving east. The day started out cloudy, cold, gusty. I went to the library to donate a book about the Medicine Bow mountains I'd bought last year and didn't think worth keeping (I didn't think the authors had done a good job). Then I went to the courthouse and made copies of the assessor's plat books, to help us verify Charlie's boundaries. Took a shortcut, knocking out the angle in highways caused by Cheyenne, drove through some pretty, and lonely, country. In Sybille Canyon I saw and photographed some 38 bighorns feeding in a small meadow.

I reached Lusk just before 4:00 and went on to Vision 1 Ranch, where I'd camped with the turkeys, etc. Dan Ritter was in nearby Harrison, NE, for a meeting with the historical society but I spent a couple of pleasant hours visiting with his sister and her husband, up from Florida for a hunt/visit. They're accustomed to using buckshot at close range for their deer there, but had made concessions for WY by using a .243 and .270. The rifles were sighted in dead-on at 100, so they were missing and wounding. She had sewed for 30 years, now was driving heavy machinery for an excavation company; he was her foreman. I dropped off the empty bottle from the dandelion wine Dan and Gaye had given me last time, plus the CA wine and some homegrown lemons I'd brought for gifts (having forgotten for a moment that Dan was from Florida, Citrus Central!). They gave me Dan's cell number; I wanted to see if he had any connections in NE I could use for hunting. I returned to Lusk, had a pizza delivered while I watched the CMA awards, read more in my book, went to bed at 11:15.

Wednesday 11/10

So, I woke up at 8:30 in my motel in Lusk and watched an old McGyver. Richard Dean Anderson was young then! I currently watch Stargate SG-1, in which
he stars. In the McGyver episode was the actor who played Q on Star Trek: Voyager; he, too, showed his youth.

I bought a case of gallon water, my favorite for camp use. The morning was windy and cloudy and cold; I took out my glove compartment and manually adjusted my heater cable as best I could to 'on'. That gave me at least 'not cold' for the rest of the trip. I chose a new route to the Black Hills this time; instead of going North
in WY and winding through the southern Hills, I drove East into Nebraska, avoiding windings altogether. This also put me in Harrison, near which Dan Ritter
(my E WY rancher) is working on the man's house. I stopped at the hardware store in Harrison, sure that they, if anyone, would know where that house is.
Bingo, and after buying a battery charger that I could use in my motels to re-power my camera cells, I followed directions.

The place is north of Harrison so I had to go through the Hat Creek Breaks. The road passes through a Wildlife Area, and I noted it for my NE hunting. I saw two does driving in to the house but didn't see Dan. So I went back to Harrison and drove on to Crawford. At the gas station I asked about hunting opportunities; the man responded that most ranches were probably booked up and that public land (like that Wildlife Area) gets hit pretty hard.

North, then, to Rapid City, passing my ranch at the NE/SD border. Also passing a small flock of turkeys right next to the freeway, in what will be the median when they're finished putting in the new lanes. Breezed through Rapid City, went on to my camping spot, seeing several does by the ranch houses. There are now some new houses near my camp; two years ago the dirt road grading was being done. My dirt track showed heavy use. I've never been on it beyond my hunting spot but the map shows it continuing and meeting up with another, more main road.

I set up my tent, unfortunately forced to have my door facing the prevailing winds, and, because there was little left of the afternoon, just tossed in my furniture and duffels. I changed into my Guide Gear longjohn bottoms (mid/hvy wt) and insulated camo jeans, put on my down vest under my M-65 coat, and topped it all off with a scarf, fleece gloves, and visored blaze watch cap. If you get the impression that temps were cold, give yourself a gold star. While I was dressing, an ATV drove past and back again.

I loaded my .308 FAT, headed out at about 4:30, and arrived at my usual perch on the cliff with about 20 minutes of light remaining. I sat in the cold wind and didn't stop shivering. Heard a couple of shots. (My 'any deer', area-specific tag opened today; the 'buck only', all Black Hills season opened 10 days before, on 11/1.)

Just before dark I saw the only deer of the evening, a medium buck over on the ridge perpendicular to my right. Back to camp. Like last time, the grass on my camp's open knoll was too long to risk a fire (especially with the usual wind), so I brought out my backpacking WhisperLite stove and perked up some coffee. I didn't want to mess with warming some Chef-Boy-Ardee on the hot-burning stove in the dark and cold so I retired to my tent with a stick of salame, homemade Swedish rye bread, and a cocktail. I read in my whitetail book, chilly because the outside temp was lower than my lantern could overcome. Went to bed at 8:30. Really.

Thursday 11/11

Awoke at 5:00, the alarm went off at 5:30. I turned on the lantern for heat and light and heat, and sipped lukewarm coffee from the thermos I'd zipped into a duffel bag and covered with clothes. The first song I heard when I turned on my radio was Walter Brennan doing "Old River"- ahh, memories. Also heard the ag report. Temps were in the teens or twenties, I had frost inside the tent.

I started on my way at 6:15, some 10 minutes too late; I couldn't notice the lightening sky outside my tent walls because of the lantern light inside. I sat shivering at my cliff perch, seeing 1 & 1 & 6 & 2 does on the ridge to the right, walking mainly just inside the forest edge on top as they made their way to their bedding area. At 7:30 I ouldn't take the cold wind anymore, so began a walk.

I may have explained this before, but... One of my systems is to divide my hunting area into an area to walk thru and an area to leave undisturbed for watching (rather than blowing through everything or not being able to move about if the whim possesses me).

I went south, to the little ridges and gullies behind my camp. As you recall from my other trips to the Black Hills, my spot was logged and burned some years ago: so the pines are young and closely packed. Visibility when among the trees is what one might call limited. And the trees are old enough to have dead lower branches but not old enough to have dropped them; mix that with the previously mentioned 'closely packed', and you can imagine how difficult it is to find a way through the forest. Straight routes are impossible and the journey is a constant war of brushing aside or breaking off twigs, and having jackets, hats, and daypacks regularly snagged. But there are small openings scattered about, and the floor of needles can be sometimes quiet.

I snuck about a bit and came upon an overgrown road left from the old days. It had a deer trail and was nicely silent, with a good view across a gully from its downhill edge. Where it began a turn around the point of its ridge I took a sit where I could see parts of the next three ridges, mainly more-mature ponderosas but also some open spots. The farthest ridge was well beyond range, and therefore it was there that I saw a doe feeding on its grassy top, and three young bucks.

I napped for 45 minutes, here in the sun and blocked from the morning's cold wind. In my walking I'd found one coyote skull and two buck skulls, one with pedicles and the other with rotten-away antlers. Found one scrape. Heard some shots, mainly between 10:30 and 11:00, although I didn't see any deer during that time. Sitting here I heard a snort behind me and the pounding of retreating hooves.

In these forests there are deer highways, trails like those near springs at the Ranch but without such a reason for being. Most of them go along the crests of the ridges, and there seems to be one for every three less travelled paths. In general, the trails don't make the networks one sees at the Ranch; rather, they are usually parallel, following ridges.

I made it back to the tent at 12:15, warmed the coffee and heated a can of ravioli in my pot. A truck went by on the road at 1:00. Ate a cinnamon/raisin bagel for dessert. At 1:15 I heard a door slam and then the truck came back. It must have stopped at the upper edge of my cliff for a short glassing session.

At 2:00 I headed out to my perch. That's not too early; I look west and the sun is early behind the mountain I watch. This evening I saw many deer: 4 & 2 on the near hillside, 1 & 3 & 6 up on the farther ledge, 2 & 1 during the few times I leant back to look behind me to the right, and 2 & 2 & 1 & 1 & 5 & 2, at least, moving up the saddle and across the ridge to my right. One of them on the ledge was a buck that was probably a shooter here in the Black Hills, chasing a doe and fawn. Seemed to me that the rut was just beginning.

One deer on the near hillside kept looking across at my cliff but higher along it, as if I wasn't the only one (but the best hidden) watching. Another doe pegged me late- I really think that deer can see a reflection from binocs, especially late and when the hunter is facing the lighter western sky. It's happened to me a number of times. I stayed late, watching the saddle, but no buck appeared at dark.

It got cold over the course of the evening. I began with my BDU shirt over my down vest and ended with my M-65 on top of those, plus my gloves and scarf. Toes got cold. I heard what sounded like a dirt bike go up the road behind me, and go down at last light. And just as I reached camp a truck came down.

To camp at 5:15, brewed coffee, ate salame and a loaf of rye, three Reese's cups, and a cocktail (which surely needed no ice!), finished my whitetail hunting book. Bed at 8:45.