AVID Hunting & Outdoors – Summer 2016

HUNTING | FISHING | GEAR | OUTDOORS | PREPAREDNESS

INSIDE:

Swimming in Mud Score the BULL Creeks and Streams

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AVId Hunting & outdoors Summer 2016

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Contents Table of

SUMMER 2016

HUNTING

08 Swimming in Mud: My First Bull 12 Tread Lightly and Keep Rowing 18 Lifetime of Memories 22 Spring Fever 24 My First Buck 26 2 for 1: The Hunt For Tipsy 32 The Test 38 Mother Nature

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FISHING

42 Creeks and Streams 46 Redington Boots and Waders

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GEAR

48 What Do You See? 53 Zamberlan Boots 57 Native Eyewear 58 Kings Camo Transition Jacket & Vest 60 Work Sharp Ken Onion Edition

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OUTDOORS

62 Call It 64 Next Generation 66 Traditional Rush PREPAREDNESS

68 Muscle Management 72 Duck Hunting Year Round DEPARTMENTS

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Spot the Hunters Field Photos

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The publisher is not responsible for the accuracy of the articles in AVID Hunting & Outdoors Magazine. The information contained within has been obtained from sources believed to be reliable. Neither the publisher nor any other party assumes liability for loss or damage as a result of reliance of this material. Appropriate professional advice should be sought before making decisions. Outside of our staff authors, articles written by providers or professionals are invited authors and represent the opinions of that particular individual, business, group or organization. If an article is a paid “advertisement,” or “advertorial,” it will be identified as such. ©Copyright 2016. AVID Hunting & Outdoors

Letter from the Editors PUBLISHER – Desert Hunter LLC EXECUTIVE EDITORS Brandon Walker – bwalker@huntavid.com Casey Stilson – cstilson@huntavid.com Justin Walker – jwalker@huntavid.com ASSOCIATE EDITORS Amyanne Rigby Nicole Brown Neil Large Photographers Brenton Stowe – bstowe@huntavid.com Brandon Walker Justin Walker VP MARKETING AND SALES Justin Walker – jwalker@huntavid.com MARKETING MANAGER & Chief Editor Neil Large – nlarge@huntavid.com Staff & Contributing Writers Josh Steinke – jsteinke@huntavid.com Josh Rowley – jrowley@huntavid.com Kaid Panek – kpanek@huntavid.com Predator Staff Vince Donohue – vdonohue@huntavid.com Fly Fishing Content Garrett Gubler – ggubler@huntavid.com Branson Gubler – bgubler@huntavid.com For information on advertising or other inquiries: CONTACT: (435) 574-9673 www.huntavid.com or info@huntavid.com Facebook/Instagram/YouTube Submit articles and pictures to bwalker@huntavid.com The publisher is not responsible for the accuracy of the articles in AVID Hunting & Outdoors magazine. The information contained within has been obtained from sources believed to be reliable. Neither the publisher nor any other party assumes liability for loss or damage as a result of reliance of this material. Appropriate professional advice should be sought before making decisions.

Outside of our staff authors, articles written by providers or professionals are invited authors and represent the opinions of that particular individual, business, group or organization. If an article is a paid “advertisement,” or “advertorial” we will identify it as such. ©Copyright 2016, AVID Hunting & Outdoors magazine.

AVID Hunting and Outdoors magazine was started by people who are passionate about hunting and our great outdoors. You can pick up any hunting magazine and read all about the biggest and the best animals taken in different parts of the world. But what about the rest of us, the DIY hunters, and the hunters that don’t have an endless bank account?

Those are the hunters and outdoorsmen we would like to appeal too.

Hunting used to be about spending time with family and friends and enjoying the outdoors. These days it has turned into a competition and is all about the trophy animals. Not that we don’t all want a trophy animal, but we want to bring the “meat and potatoes” back into hunting. Get people back to simply enjoying the outdoors, and sharing that vision with our family and friends. We want to show our newer generations the excitement of seeing big game in the wild and being outdoors instead of just seeing it on TV. So while you might not see the biggest and the best animals taken in this magazine, you will see individuals and families hunting and enjoying the great outdoors. We will strive to bring you updated information, rules, regulations and hunting success stories. If there is a story you would like to see in AVID Hunting and Outdoors magazine, please submit it to us.

Thank you for taking the time to read and look through AVID Hunting and Outdoors magazine.

AVId Hunting & outdoors Summer 2016

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www.huntavid.com | Utah Edition

AVId Hunting & outdoors September-November 2015

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HUNTING

Swimming in Mud:

My First Bull

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By Jason Seegmiller (@outdoorseeg on Instagram)

was thrilled and quite shocked to see the $285 charge on my credit card in May 2015. I had drawn the Wasatch Limited Entry Muzzleloader elk tag with only 2 points! I live in Northern Utah now, but I grew up in Southern Utah and still hunt there primarily so I was unfamiliar with the unit.

Most of my summer scouting trips were spent familiarizing myself with the country and learning the many different possibilities.

Thankfully, several good friends (and friends of friends), helped point me in the right direction.

As the hunt neared, I narrowed down my list of areas to just a couple. Then, just a few days before the hunt, I received an email from my good friend Larry (@yelum61 on Instagram). His friend Clint had been helping a coworker during the rifle hunt and they killed a nice bull. During the hunt, their number one bull was a big, beautiful six-point they were never able to kill. Clint was gracious enough to share information with me about where the big bull was located and the different canyons where they had spotted him. I loved the look of the bull, and was most grateful for the information.

My friend Nick and I left home two days before the hunt to do some final scouting. We spent a morning and evening in an area that seemed promising, but the elk I had scouted earlier were nowhere to be found. We did see one decent bull right at dark, but he was the only elk or bugle we saw or heard in that area. We made a key decision at that point to focus on the area where Clint had seen the big bull. The evening before the opener we hiked out to a glassing point in that area and we were treated to bugles in every direction.

Sleep came difficult that night to say the least!

Opening day found us back on the glassing point at first light.

Bugles were still crazy and we picked out one bull in some thick timber with a deep, aggressive bugle. We dropped into the canyon Continued on Page 10

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and started heading in his direction. After an hour we closed the distance to about 150-yards in thick timber, but had not yet seen the bull. Suddenly, a shot rang out. Then two more shots. Someone had killed the bull we were after, right from under us. We were disappointed. I only prayed it wasn’t the bull we came to find.

We continued down the canyon and had a 300 class, 6x7 come

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right by us at 60-yards on his way to the bedding area. Shortly after that we climbed up a ridge and spent some time watching a clearing that was near the areas the bull we wanted had been bedding the week prior. After 30 minutes, another shot rang out over the hill behind us. We climbed back over to find a young man and his family with the 6x7 we had just passed. He was happy as can be; we gave him our congratulations and left. By this time, the day was getting warm and the woods were quiet. We assessed our options and decided to spend the heat of the day a little further down the canyon near a waterhole.

The waterhole was out in a clearing without a lot of cover around it, but we decided it was our best plan for the middle of the day.

We put ourselves at the tree line above the waterhole, opposite the ridge we thought elk might come in from. Then we sat, and napped, and napped some more. Nothing came in for 5 hours. I was hoping a big bull might slip in to water before chasing cows again in the evening. At 4:15 pm a young 6-point bull slipped out of the trees to water. He spent more than 10 minutes drinking and wallowing, all the while looking nervously up the ridge behind him. Suddenly, he bolted, and I spotted a big bull coming down the ridge towards the water.

I saw he was a big bull with nice beams and great fronts. I told my friend I was going to kill that bull if given the chance. He made his way down the ridge and when he was at 200 yards he started turning back towards the tree line. I thought my chance might be over. I didn’t want to take a 200-yard, moving shot, and risk wounding the bull. Thankfully, he turned back and came right down to the water. As he came down, my friend whispered instructions

HUNTING

and I prepared mentally for the shot.

The bull never offered a shot until he stepped right to the water to drink at 135-yards.

As he took his first sip, I squeezed the trigger, and the Barnes 290-grain TMZ with 100 grains of BH209 broke both his shoulders and destroyed the heart and other vitals. As he was hit, the bull hunched up on his back legs and – because both front shoulders were broken – he collapsed into the water where he died. The adrenaline kicked in at this point. Fortunately, my buddy Nick was able to capture the final sequence on film. I could not believe what had just happened. Luck had come our way!

As we made our way down the water, I had no idea how we were going to get him out. At the water’s edge I was able to recognize the bull’s antlers. We had actually found and killed the exact bull we were hoping to kill. Moments later, both of us were down to our underwear dragging the bull out of the water and mud. It took a while, but we managed to get him onto the shore where we could process him. He taped out at 362 inches. A

long pack-out that evening, one more load in the morning, and we had the bull loaded into the truck. It was an incredible experience, and my first ever bull!

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Light Rowing Tread and

Keep

An Alaskan Adventure

By Travis Rigby

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he mountains are my sanctuary and my teacher – my place to reflect, ponder, and put my life in perspective. Little did I know what life lessons my September 2015 Alaskan Adventure had in store.

As I watched my floatplane fly away, any previous taste of humility seemed diluted compared to how small I truly felt at that time. Never before had I been in a spot that my hiking boots could not provide a way back to civilization. I was dropped off

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and I was dependent upon my floatplane to provide my return.

This trip was four years in the making. In September 2011, we buried my aunt. While her death was a day of mourning it was also an opportunity to reunite with cousins. Because my father is 10 years younger than his older brother, my relationship with his children and grandchildren was indeed distant. Thankfully, our shared interest in the outdoors and in hunting provided a platform for conversation which led to this adventure of a lifetime.

HUNTING

As spectacular as Alaska and the wildlife are, it is not meant to be tamed but rather to teach and tutor its inhabitants. While on this journey, I encountered significant challenges and difficulties which became tolerable as I relied upon the many lessons I had learned from the “mountain� and the strength I found in my faith.

My hunting companions each came for their own reasons. I came to explore, to wander, and to scout for future hunting opportunities with my four sons. Cory

Collins, my tent buddy, came to fulfill a lifetime dream of both he and his father.

Unfortunately, his father only joined us in spirit as he was killed in a tragic fishing accident years ago. My cousin Mark Rigby and his son, Brandan, had hunted in many states and had yet to experience their shared dream of exploring Yukon moose country.

Our chosen outfitters for this journey had given very specific directions as to our fly-in Continued on Page 14

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weight limit. We had elected to hunt self-guided on a 10-day river float consisting of 30-miles in 2 rafts. Brandan performed exhaustive research on the hunt area and the needs of each hunter (each hunter was allowed only 100 pounds of gear). This weight restriction ensured that once each hunter that harvested a moose, he would be able to make the return trip on the floatplane.

Unable to hunt the same day of arrival in the field due to Alaskan wildlife regulation, we set up camp on the bank of the river and anxiously waited morning. Mark and Brandan were given the opportunity to select their desired hunt area and Cory and I explored adjacent wilderness. Being rookies in the art of moose calling, our call of choice became a wooden boat ore used to imitate bull scrapes.

Unlike western big-game hunting, moose hunting in this unique and beautiful terrain was unlike anything I before experienced. Fresh sign

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was difficult to find and moose sightings very limited– nothing like deer and elk hunting. We were instructed that the use of a good book and comfortable sitting pad were the best hunting strategy, a strategy that my nerves and cold feet would just not allow.

After several miles, Cory and I returned to camp for lunch.

Lack of glassing success for Mark and Brandan helped Cory and I determine that there had to be “greener grass” on the other side of the river. Adjacent to our tent, we immediately found fresh sign, but still no moose. We were all relieved when Mark closed his hunt when coming face to face into a young bull while walking quietly upriver on a trail. Astonishment at the size of this young animal further altered our hunt strategies due to the effort required to field dress the bull, transport it to camp, and care for the enormous and heavy game bags.

Exhaustion allowed the night to pass quickly. Beaver slaps and wolf howls were the only reason for us to stir. I arose early while Cory slept. I found myself nervously paddling across river and hunting solo down river. The wilderness consisted of forest and willow habitat adjacent the running water with open tundra about a mile from the river. Several miles on foot led me into the open tundra then back to a bend in the river about two miles from camp.

Fresh willow scrapes indicated a mature bull was in the area. Cow calls and scrapes resulted in a single sound of a broken branch across the river. The depth of the river prohibited me from crossing without the raft. I was forced to head back to camp where the others had encountered native fishermen. The locals had instructed us not to cow call and only use short bull grunts which we later found to be very productive. My find resulted in us breaking camp the following morning and floating down river about 3 miles.

After setting up camp within several tall pines, Brandan and Cory were directed to the mile-long river bend where the bull was located.

After splitting up, the direction of the wind sent Mark and I down river in the opposite direction away from our hunting companions.

The further we walked down river, the smaller amount of fresh sign we encountered. We eventually made a wide two-mile loop across the tundra back toward the area that housed the bull. The hike was at times like walking on saturated sponges. Soil could not be seen anywhere but along the river due to the overgrowth and moisture.

Unaware if Brandan and Cory had covered the area, Mark and I sat on the riverbank. With the wooden ore in hand and Mark with his fiberglass moose call, he let out a couple grunts and I raked some willows. With Mark’s poor ability to hear, I excitedly communicated that I had heard some branches breaking a couple hundred yards away. Mark insisted that I rake the “%@!#@#” out of the willows and he continued to grunt. The growth across the river began to move back and forth as a deep grunt responded sporadically as if someone was hitting a base drum. Moose paddles appeared waving slowly back and forth through the willows. A deep dark body followed as the bull walked into the open along the river bank. My 300 magnum unloaded hoping to keep the enormous and majestic animal from running into the river. Mark and I were ecstatic and could not believe what had just happened.

Cory and Brandan immediately radioed hearing the shots and graciously agreed to retrieve their raft from camp. After hauling and rowing the raft upriver, numerous hours were spent properly caring

HUNTING

and transporting the meat, hide, and antlers back to camp. We were ever grateful that the bull had retired just yards from the river making the task much more manageable.

Brandan was able to fill his tag a couple days later while sitting quietly eating a peanut butter sandwich accompanied by an occasional grunt call. Cory was able to spot a yearling bull that managed to survive due to an unfortunate failure to take his rifle off safety. Mark was the lucky charm as he seemed to enjoy “first chair” in each moose harvest. Mark was even able to catch his prized grayling fish as well as some impressive Alaskan pike.

We were upriver when we had harvested three of our four moose – 22 miles from our pick up point. At which point, we contacted our outfitter by satellite phone and were instructed to hurry to our predetermined pick up point due to an incoming storm.

Unfortunately, this left Cory without a moose and his life-time dream unfulfilled.

This early departure necessitated that we float the remaining 22 miles in one day. Our outfitters told us this was “doable.” However, what neither we nor the outfitters considered was that the river dropped only 2 feet over a distance of 17 miles. This seemed to turn into a long winding lake. Furthermore, we were moving against the incoming storm’s headwind. Loaded with over 2,800 lbs of moose and all our gear, we began to row and row and row. For 15 straight hours we rowed. At least, the rowing kept our blood and limbs from freezing.

The rain turned to snow then to sleet and then to rain again. River tributaries increased the distance to the shore and the protecting tall pines began to disappear. The darkness began to envelop us as our concerns began to heighten as our destination seemed unreachable. We simply did not have power to set up camp and unload the moose only to load everything back onto the rafts hours later. It was too cold to stop. We somehow received strength to arrive at our destination, unload gear, and prepare the tents and sleeping bags hours after dark. As the sky began to lighten, rafts were deflated, meat was rotated, and preparations made for the arrival of our ride. Optimistically, the first day ended with no sign of a plane.

The second day there was no plane. That left us two nights in the Alaskan wilderness

gathered around a small campfire built with saturated drift wood and willows.

Delicious moose and Alaskan pike meat lifted our spirits and provided some warmth.

However, rain and snow continued making heat from flames unavailable. The two days turned into three and then to four. Communication to the outside world was limited due to a poor battery in the satellite phone. Our food supplies were running low as was the remaining propane supply.

The final days of this adventure were both cold and miserable. Due to the specified weight restriction, my layers and sleeping bag were insufficient. Nighttime produced shoreline ice and frozen feet with spinal shivers. I sought creative ways to stay warm which were often unsuccessful. This prolonged cold was a painful postlude to an unexpected rowing marathon. These final days were what I would call an “I’m not prepared to meet my maker” experience.

Now in my comfortable office, I can certainly recall the troublesome moments.

Brandan needed QuikClot and antibiotics to stop bleeding and infection. Cory had a severe fear of the river and painful hiking rashes. My feet and heels were affected for weeks after our return due to the severe

and constant cold. We were often in great discomfort. However, I find myself focusing on those cherished moments of finding my first fresh scrape, seeing Cory’s smile in the light of the camp fire, hearing Mark’s comforting words that turned concern into gratitude, recognizing the friendships gained with my cousins, and witnessing the Alaskan beauty and power of the creator. This Alaskan sanctuary tutored me in much more than I expected and the cold nights were filled with long prayers overflowing with faith and a reassurance that my wife and five children were praying for our safe return home.

On the morning of day five, I poked my head out of the small window of my tent due to the hum of a small engine. I signaled to the pilot that we were ready to be picked up and he flapped his wings as a return signal.

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My cousins were taken first by the float plane leaving Cory and I several more hours wondering if we would have to experience a full Alaskan winter. It was not until Cory and I were loaded upon the plane with our gear, moose and frozen selves that I finally believed we were leaving the Alaskan Bush.

While I came home with a trophy moose and moose meat to rival any cut of beef, I also came home with renewed perspective.

I had been to my “mountain.” I had been tutored. I had learned the brevity and beauty of life and that God was found in all things.

The Mountain had taught me that. It had also taught me respect and reverence for mother earth. My hiking boots have been places, climbed mountains, reached vistas, crossed ravines but my heart had felt the hand of God and his eternal beauty that night on the river rowing for 15 hours with frozen feet. It was if my “mountain” had shadowed me, enveloped me and then let me go to share its story. The earth is God’s and man is its visitor- tread lightly and keep rowing.

You’ll find my hiking boots back in Alaska sometime soon!

Editor’s Note: Most often, I experience adventure only vicariously. Such was the case with my husband’s moose hunt. I stayed home to shuttle children, do homework, laundry, cook, clean, attend football games as well as assist our eldest in his endeavor as high school student body president to put two 100 foot letters ( CV) on the high school’s neighboring hill.

More often than not, I am the “Story keeper.” I treasure this story – the moose hunt that could have been tragic – and I share it gratefully.

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HUNTING

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AVId Hunting & outdoors April-June 2016

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Lifetime of

Memor

By Randall Limb

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HUNTING

ies

By Dave Heath

I

have never been so excited and nervous as when I found out that my dad and I had both drawn late season bull elk tags in Arizona. Excited because I had drawn my first bull elk tag that had potential for a trophy bull, so my dad and I would both have a chance at nice bulls. I was also nervous because it was a unit with lots of tags, few places to glass from, and we had never hunted there before. I started calling people who had hunted there and knew the area. I got lots of great tips from those friends but I was still doubting my chances of getting a nice bull.

We went to the unit 3 days before the hunt started. We wanted to scout around and get a better idea of the area since we were unfamiliar with it. One thing everyone had told us before we came is we would be shooting long range. Luckily before the hunt we had our guns sighted in at 800-1000 yards, that extra effort eased some of our nerves. However, as soon as I pulled in to where we would be camping I saw a nice 7x7 that could be a shooter right in camp! I thought this was going to be easy. Boy was I ever wrong.

After scouting for 3 days, we only saw two 6-points. One was a shooter for sure. I sent pictures to my friends and family that would be joining me later that evening before the hunt started. We were pretty excited and came up with a plan that had my friend, Brandon, walking in with me. Then my little brother, Kevin, and his fiancĂŠ, Nicci, up on the hill guiding us into this big bull. My dad, Mike, was going to go with my other brothers and watch the hill where we had seen the other six point, hoping to get a shot at that big bull.

Opening morning came and we drove about an hour from camp to where we had seen the bull I wanted to shoot. Kevin dropped Brandon and I off and we waited for light to move, and for Nicci and Kevin to get into position. Soon we heard Kevin over the radio saying the bull was out. Finally, we started to make our move. We got to where we thought he was but could not see him. Kevin said he was there, but due to the roll in the brush and hills we could not see him. So we came up with a plan to do the same thing the next morning from a different angle so we could see him and get a shot.

On our way back to camp I decided to hike down a canyon I found on the topo map that looked like it could hold some elk.

Brandon and I started our 3-mile hike. Kevin was going to pick us up at the end of the canyon. Half way into our walk, Brandon spotted a bull. He was moving through the scrub oak so we could not get a good look at his tine length. We opted not to shoot because we had just missed our chance at a bull we knew was good and it was still opening day. We figured we could come back another time and get a better look at this bull later.

The next morning, we came in from a different angle and saw the bull with some cows and spikes coming out into the flat.

Stalking through the brush, we were within 600-yards of the bull.

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walked in and stopped right between us and the bull! We got up to move positions and watched as the elk moved, single-file, through where we could shoot. Cow, cow, spike, cow, spike, but no bull! He must have gone into the trees while the horses were between us. At this point, we were pretty discouraged and decided to try and find some other elk.

We hunted all over the unit, starting out an hour before light and coming back and hour or two after dark. We spent the next four days going like crazy to find elk. My dad even hired a guide to help him that he met out there on the mountain.

But no luck. We were pretty discouraged.

On the second to last day, I went back after the original bull but still no luck. On the way back we told my dad, and his guide Matt, that we were going to hike off the big canyon again and look for the other bull. We dropped my truck at the bottom and they gave us a ride to the top.

We started our hike and found a fresh bull track with fresh droppings. There had to be elk in the area. We decided to cut over to the park fence line to see if the elk were still there in the canyon or had left to the refuge of the park. When we got to a spot in the fence where the elk were clearly coming in and out, we saw no fresh tracks leaving the area. So we headed for the edge of the canyon. Arriving at the edge I put my binoculars up and told Brandon, “I got a bull!”

Getting down into the prone position, I asked Brandon for a range. But he could not see the bull. I stood up and showed him. Then I laid back down, but now I could not find him in my scope. Moving over one foot to the left, I could only see his front shoulder through the brush. Brandon said he was at 397-yards. I felt comfortable at this range with my .338, but I had decided to bring my .270 WSM on this hike because I thought it would be better at close range shots due to the trees and brush.

I did a quick calculation in my head and said to Brandon, “Here we go,” firing a shot down range. I hit him hard but he was still moving up hill. I did not see where he moved. We got up and ran 40-yards down and away from the bull to get a different angle on him. I stood over a dead tree and sent another shot, then another shot. Finally, he laid down.

Emotions ran high. After 9 days, in below freezing temps, I had put 3 shots into a bull. We gathered our things and got my dad and Matt on the radio to tell them bull down! We hiked down the ridge and back up to where the bull was and we were both pretty excited. I have waited more than half my life to kill a mature bull and I had finally succeeded. When my dad got there he was also excited. It was a great moment I will always enjoy with my dad.

But it was bittersweet because I knew we only had a day and a half 20

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to find him a good bull. We loaded up and headed back to camp.

The next morning we split up, hoping to find my dad a big bull. At first light Brandon spotted six bulls feeding in a clearing a mile from us. We got my dad on the radio and he headed our way. By the time he got there, the big bull moved in the trees but a 5-point was still there. But my dad decided not to shoot the 5-point. So we continued looking for bulls all day. About 20 minutes before dark we all found each other on the same spotting hill. Matt, our guide, had found two bulls. We took a quick look and the biggest one was a nice 5x6. Matt, my dad, and I started to hike to get into a position to shoot. We finally got within 800-yards and my dad laid down, took a deep breath, and WHAM! He knocked that bull right off his feet at 800 yards!

The bull got back up and he was able to put a few more in him at 550 yards.

It went down to the last minute of the last day!

We got to my dad’s bull in the dark and were all excited that he had got a great bull also. That ten days spent with family and friends is what it is all about. I will always remember and enjoy these lifetime memories made with family and friends.

Thanks to all who helped and hunted with us!

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SPRING

FEVER

By Whitney Busic

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When I found out that I drew a spring turkey tag, along with my dad and boyfriend, I had my mind set to take my very first turkey with my Bowtech. As April approached, that tag was burning a hole in my pocket. We hoped the ground blind and decoys we purchased in preparation for the season, would give us all a shot at a strutting tom. We also scouted multiple areas that were looking to be quite promising to fill our tags on the morning of opening day. Our hopes were high; however, when that morning finally arrived we made our way to the first spot to set up and wait, only to be washed out by a rain storm.

Unruly spring weather was upon us and keeping the birds silent and remaining close to their roosts. As the week passed, my dad filled his tag with a nice tom, leaving two of us empty handed.

With a busy work week and full time school schedule making it tough to hunt during the week nights, I was getting impatient. After a couple of evenings scouting close to home, we had found more birds but were unable to get permission to hunt the area. The lofty goals

I had set for myself seemed to be out of reach. Eventually we found a large flock of turkeys and we were able to lock up permission on a beautiful piece of property. Due to my busy schedule, my boyfriend Daniel set out to scout the area and get a feel for the birds’ habits and traveling patterns. While doing so, he was able to harvest his turkey and found the perfect spot to set up and give me the best opportunity to seal the deal with an arrow. My thoughts and emotions were running wild as I imagined every possible scenario that could happen the following evening. I never realized how much the thrill of hunting meant to me until that very moment.

The clock seemed to pass ever so slowly that day. When the clock struck four, I was out the door and heading home to grab my gear and my guide. The drive to the area seemed to take forever. Anticipation flooded my mind, not knowing if this would actually be the night I would harvest my first turkey.

We parked the vehicle just outside the gate, with gear on our backs and bow in my hand, we headed to the field. After walking what seemed like miles,

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we set up the blind along with the decoys and waited. Little did I know the beautiful show we were about to witness in the coming hours.

About an hour after setting up, the deer and turkeys began walking across the field in our direction. We tried yelping with

the call, hearing distant gobbles in return. Then the jakes and toms began working toward the decoys. After switching to aggressive calling, the toms came running full strut towards the decoys. I couldn’t believe what I was watching unfold right in front of me. It was the

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moment I had been dreaming of for months! The camera was on. The toms were at 8-yards.

This was my chance. I pulled back my bow. Settled my top pin on my target. With a deep breath, I released the arrow and the feathers flew, it ran 30 yards and expired. The adrenaline

raging through my body and mind was unlike any feeling I have ever known. It made me realize that hunting is not just about taking an animal, but about accomplishing your goals and sticking to your dreams even when you are told it is impossible.

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My

First Buck

By Brea Whittaker

T

his was my first year ever hunting. I am 24 and I grew up in a family that never hunted. It wasn’t until I married my husband that I finally put in for some hunts. I drew a dedicated tag so I was able to hunt archery, muzzleloader, and rifle. And that is exactly what I did.

I did not have a bow, but I went with my husband and stayed at camp. On the muzzle loader hunt I missed some pretty easy shots at a couple of 4 points that were only 30 yards away, but I was so full of nerves! I’d never done anything like this. I liked to think that maybe I missed them on purpose because I wasn’t ready. But I do remember an old friend that was with me saying “It’s okay that you missed, but what did you learn from it?” What are you going to do different the next time?”

On the last morning of the rifle hunt, just before I was headed back to school, we found my buck. It was foggy and rainy up on Panguitch Mountain, and we spooked some

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deer out of a little valley. As I got ready to shoot the one we saw with horns, he took off running with the rest. I was devastated! It was my last shot! Thankfully, my husband looked through his binos and told me there was another buck still feeding.

Everything I thought I would do better this time, started falling perfectly into place. I slowly, and steadily dropped to one knee. I quietly but quickly loaded my rifle and adjusted my scope and zoomed right in on that big guy. As I tried to get steady and build up my toughness, I could sense the buck wasn’t sticking around much longer and I took the broadside shot as he started to leave.

He ran about 70 yard and then dropped. I thought maybe I had missed as he was still running, but it was a kill shot. When we got up to him, we realized how nice he really was – a 4x5, 24 1/2 inches wide, and real heavy. It started to snow on us right after I took the shot – a celebration for my victory!

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FOR 1

The Hunt For Tipsy

By Randall Limb

I

t all started when I was lucky enough to draw a Limited Entry Utah Archery Elk Tag. Once I found out I drew the tag, I could hardly stand to wait to go out scouting. My first scouting trip was in the middle of June. That trip left me a little discouraged. I did not see one elk. I saw a couple of deer but nothing to get that excited about. I also had an archery deer tag that had the same season dates as my elk hunt. But I was more interested in finding a big bull.

A couple of weeks went by until I was able to get out scouting again. This time I was able to have my son Matthew and my Dad with me. It was a great trip; we all had a lot of fun. First thing that morning, we spotted some bulls. We videoed three awesome bulls and saw two other rag horns with them. The longer I watched the three big bulls, the more excited I got. I was looking at these bulls and could not believe my eyes. They were huge! One of the bulls was a solid perfectly symmetrical 6 x 6. Another of the bulls was a great 5 x 5, he had some of the longest tines I had ever seen on a bull, and he had the most beautiful whale tales. Then I looked over at the next bull and noticed that he had something a little different. He had a 5� cheater coming off of his 3rd on the left side. From the moment I saw him, I knew that he was the one. I am the type of guy that likes things a little different, I liked the added character. He was perfect! I ended up naming him Tipsy that day and did not bother naming the other two bulls.

After having found Tipsy, I went out every weekend to watch him. I wanted to get all the video I could of him and learn his patterns. I had his pattern down to a science. I knew when and where he would enter the trees, and where he would bed.

The hunt arrived before I knew it. I was packing up my gear and getting ready to go get Tipsy opening morning. My cousin Aaron and I left town Friday afternoon so we could go get camp set up and check the trail cameras. Once we got to our hunting spot, we were already seeing bulls. I knew that it was going to be a great weekend. We were able to get to the cameras and check them without being spotted. Unfortunately, Tipsy was not on either camera. After we got back to the truck, we drove around hoping to be lucky enough to spot Tipsy, but we didn’t see him that night.

That night was one of the longest nights I have ever had. All I could think about was how I was going to get in position and wait for the majestic animal to step within shooting range. Finally, 5:00 am arrived Continued on Page 28

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I started to get upset thinking that these guys are going to try and take this majestic animal away from me.

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and we were on our way to park the truck and hike into position. We parked the truck, got all of our gear on and finalized our game plan.

We finally got into position around 5:45 and were awaiting Tipsy’s arrival. It started to get light and there was no sign of Tipsy. I was starting to get a little worried and discouraged, and wondered if all the traffic on the roads may have pushed him out of the area. Just when I thought I wouldn’t get to see him that morning, I noticed some movement across the valley. I pulled out my binos and started glassing. I couldn’t believe my eyes, there he was! My heart started pounding, I could feel the rush of adrenaline going through my body.

The only problem was that he and the other two bulls were headed in the opposite direction. Aaron and I decided that if we were going to go after him that morning, we better go now. So, we slowly crept our way halfway across the valley until we hit some tree stumps for cover. Once we got there, we glassed the bulls again to try and figure out which direction they were headed. While we were glassing, we heard some commotion, so we put the binos down and looked to see what was making all of that noise. To my surprise, it was a very good six point bull. He wasn’t Tipsy but was definitely a larger bull.

I decided I would leave Tipsy alone and go stalk after this bull we had just seen. The bull ended up stopping just over the hill above us and started feeding again. Aaron hung back to video the stalk and hopefully the shot on this bull. I started the stalk up the hill. I would go a little ways and then the bull would put his head up. I thought he busted me numerous times but then he would go back to feeding.

I got up to 80 yards away from him and had a great broadside shot, but I decided not to take it. I knew I was accurate out to 60 yards, but 80 was pushing it. I did not want to wound him, and it was opening morning, so I figured I would let him go and try to get Tipsy that night, but that night we didn’t have much luck.

The next morning we got into position again at the same location as the morning before. We glassed the valley for a while and there was no sign of Tipsy or any animal for that matter. So, we decided to 28

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go back to the truck and drive to a different spot. Once we got to the other location, I noticed movement up on the hillside. I pulled the spotting scope out and started glassing. I spotted a small rag horn five point and another really nice bull. The more we got looking at the good bull the more excited I got, it was Tipsy! I decided I would try and stalk in on him. So, I got out of the truck, grabbed the PSE Nova and headed towards him. The closer I got, the more my heart started pounding. I started thinking is this the day I will be able to get Tipsy? As I got closer and closer, the brush got thicker. I ended up getting busted by the rag horn. So, off they went over the hillside.

I decided not to go after them in hopes that they would be in the same area that night. On my way back to the truck, I noticed that the bulls had been watering at a trough just below the hill. When I got back to the truck and discussed what I had found with Aaron, we decided we would sit at the water that night. We sat at the water that night but were greeted by only ranchers’ cows. Once it got dark, we headed for home.

It was hard to stay focused on work that week, all I could think about was getting back out there and chasing Tipsy all over the hillside. Finally, it was the end of the work week and time to get ready to go back out. Aaron and I left Saturday morning at 4:00am and headed for our usual hunting spot. We figured we would try the same area that we had Tipsy patterned. We thought that maybe with not as much pressure during the week, that he would follow his usual pattern. But this time we decided not to hike in unless we saw him.

Aaron and I decided to split up to hunt different areas in hopes we would get a shot at a decent bull. After Aaron left, I glassed the

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hillsides numerous times with no results. I took my time glassing not wanting to miss anything on the hillside. I still had the same result – no elk. As I lowered my binoculars, I noticed something in the corner of my eye. My heart started pounding, it was a good 3 x 3 buck that was about 22” wide. I wasn’t planning on shooting a buck but did have the tag. So I watched him for a minute to see what he was going to do. While watching him, another buck popped up.

This buck was a monster, I had never been that close to a buck of his caliber. I dropped down to my knees due to being out in the open with no cover. I was so glad that I was wearing my Kings Camo. I blended in so well to my surroundings that they didn’t even know I was there. As I was on my knees, the first buck jumped the fence. He was only 30 yards away from me. I hurried and pulled out one of my Beman ICS Hunter Elite arrows with my Muzzy 90 grain 4 blade broadheads attached and knocked the arrow. Then the big Four point came up to the fence, he stopped for a minute and looked around.

Then he jumped the fence and landed in the same spot as the other buck. As he jumped the fence, I hurried and pulled back the trusty PSE Nova and waited for him to stop. Once he stopped, I hurried and placed my 30 yard pin right behind the left shoulder and let go.

The arrow flew through the air and hit a branch that I did not see through the pins that was right in the kill zone. The arrow deflected off of the branch and hit him in the neck. After I shot, I watched the buck run until I could not see him anymore. I couldn’t believe what had just happened! The excitement was flowing throughout my whole body. I couldn’t wait until Aaron came back so I could tell him what had just happened.

About five minutes later Aaron showed up, as he was walking towards me, I had a big grin on my face and gave him a thumbs up.

He came up to me and asked what that was all about? I told him I had just connected with a big buck. So we both went to where we found the first sign of blood and decided to give him 45 minutes before we would track him. 45 minutes finally passed and off we were on a good blood trail. The further we got, the more blood we found. We eventually came to a fence and saw where he had stopped.

He didn’t jump the fence, but there was no more blood to be found.

Then we noticed that he had circled a bush making it very difficult to get back on the blood trail. After a few minutes of searching, we were on blood again. Aaron said, “we’re going to find him soon with how much blood he has lost.” So we followed the blood trail up over a little hill, on the other side and there he was! We had found him.

Aaron and I got even more excited once we got closer to him. He was a monster! He was a perfectly symmetrical 4 point with eye guards. We hurried and took our field photos then started to take care of him. Once we got him taken care of, we started packing him out. It was all we could do to drag him, his body was huge, in fact he was one of the largest bodied deer I had ever seen! We finally made it back to the truck, but we didn’t have room for the deer and the four wheeler with everything else in the truck. We headed over to a camp where we had met a very nice guy named Blaine from the week earlier. We made sure we could leave the four wheeler with them. Blaine ended up being camped with a guide service by the name of Mossback, his son Cody is one of the Mossback guides, Cody also had an archery bull tag.

I left the four wheeler at their camp and took off to the butcher and taxidermist. I had never caped an animal before and I did not want to mess it up. So, we took the buck to the taxidermist to have him cape the buck. Once we arrived, the taxidermist quickly caped and skinned the buck for me. I ran the meat over to the butcher then went back to the taxidermist. I really wanted to know what my trophy scored. When I got back, he scored him for me. The buck scored 166”. Man I couldn’t believe it. I was going to be able to be entered into Pope and Young’s record book.

After we finished up with the taxidermist, Aaron and I went and ate some lunch and filled the truck up with gas. We were on the road again, headed back to chase Tipsy. On our way back out to our hunting spot, I jokingly told Aaron to be ready to go back to the taxidermist tonight with Tipsy.

Upon setting up back on the mountain we were already into elk.

About twenty minutes later I spotted a bull, I pulled up the binoculars and checked him out. It was the big five point that Tipsy had been running with throughout the summer. I started stalking in on him from about 500 yards away. I slowly made my way down the hill and started up towards him. I got to about 200 yards and glassed him to see which direction he was feeding. I happened to be the direction he was headed, so I stayed put watching him. After a few minutes went by, I heard a bugle. It was the first bugle I had heard this season.

I was able to locate where the sound came from and noticed another bull. So I pulled up the binoculars to take a look and couldn’t believe Continued on Page 30

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my eyes, it was Tipsy! At this point, the adrenaline started flowing through my veins and I started to get very excited. I started thinking, “Is this really going to be the day I get Tipsy?”

While I had all of these things going through my head, I continued to watch Tipsy. He finally jumped the fence and was headed my way.

He joined the five point and started feeding towards me. I noticed that I did not have much light left and decided I needed to make a move. As I was making my way towards them, they changed their feeding pattern and headed towards the left side of the hill. I quickly made my way to the other side of the hill and headed to cut them off.

As I continued in their direction, it was getting closer to dark and they were still 150 yards or more away from me. So I decided I had better head straight for them if I wanted to get a shot. I noticed a dead tree stump that was right where they were feeding- that was my mark. If I could get there, I would be able to get a good shot at Tipsy.

I finally made it to the stump. Tipsy was on my left and the five point was on my right. The five point was only about 15 yards away from me at that point and could bust me at any second. Tipsy was 30 yards away from me, so I waited for a good broadside shot. He finally presented me a good shot, so I pulled the trusty PSE back and Tipsy decided to turn and feed towards me. I had my bow pulled back for what seemed like forever (approx. 5 minutes) I finally could not hold the bow back any longer, I had to give my arm a break. I slowly let the bow down, my arrow fell off off the rest, it made a loud noise, and I was busted. At this point he still couldn’t see me thanks to my Kings Camo, but he definitely heard me! He started snorting and sniffing the air but could not smell me due to how hard the wind was blowing. He knew something wasn’t quite right, so he whirled around and stopped. I had a perfect 30 yard broadside shot. I let the PSE go and my Beman ICS Hunter arrow flew through the air and connected with him. He ran 30 yards and stopped, giving me a great 60 yard shot as well. I pulled back again and let my arrow fly the 90 grain 4 blade Muzzy hit him good. He started bleeding heavy.

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He ran about 150 yards until he got to the fence. He did not want to jump the fence so he just stood there. I kept saying tip over tip over.

There ended up being another hunter about 100 yards away from him on the other side of the fence. The other hunter said he hit Tipsy high in the left shoulder and that there were no other arrows in him. I started to get upset thinking that these guys are going to try and take this majestic animal away from me.

Just when I thought things were going to get worse Blaine and team Mossback showed up. They saw the whole thing through the spotting scope 1,000 yards away. They started giving me high fives and hugs telling me how cool my stalk was on that big bull. After they showed up and verified that I was the one who shot Tipsy, the other hunter decided to let it go. I thanked him for that and wished him well in getting a great trophy as well. By the time we got all of that squared away, it was dark. We started following the blood trail. We followed it until the blood started getting thin. Jessie with the Mossback team suggested we wait to find Tipsy until the next morning. So that’s what we decided to do.

On our way back to the truck, Jessie asked Aaron and I where we were sleeping. I told him just in the bed of the truck. Jessie offered to let us come stay with him and Decker in their trailer for the night.

Aaron and I took him up on the offer and met them at their camp after I called my wife to give her the exciting news.

Once we arrived at the Mossback camp, Jessie insisted on feeding us dinner, so we ended up getting not only a great meal but a soft place to sleep. Thanks Jessie for the great accommodations!

The next morning Aaron had left before I was ready; he has a genuine love for tracking animals. I started following the blood trail and was on it for a little while, when next thing I knew Aaron radioed me telling me that he found Tipsy. I was so relieved and excited. I could hardly wait to get to him.

I finally got to him and couldn’t believe how big he was. Not only his antlers but his body as well. We asked Blaine to take our field photos, and after the photo shoot the fun part began. I had 4 knives with me thinking that would be enough to take care of him. Boy I was wrong. Luckily Blaine had a knife sharpener with him. Aaron and I started with the hind quarters while Blaine worked on his cape.

After a while, we finally had Tipsy quartered out.

Thanks to team Mossback, we had him packed out in no time.

Before we loaded up Tipsy in the truck, Jessie scored him for me. He was right at 350. Man I was excited! I ended up taking two Pope and Young record book animals in one day. I couldn’t believe it.

I want to give a special thanks to Blaine and team Mossback for their help and hospitality. It was appreciated probably more than they will ever know.

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AVId Hunting & outdoors April-June 2016

“I

By Kaid Panek

hate bear hunting. This just isn’t working out. He’s getting to me. I don’t know if it’s scent, or bad luck,” I said. “Kaid, you’re breaking up, stand still.” My dad interrupted. “Can you hear me?” “Hello? What do you think I need to do,” I was interrupted again by “beep, beep, beep...” Indicating another dropped call.

Frustrated, I ran my hands through my hair. Disgust flooded my mind as I threw my phone back into my pack. No second opinion, not even an encouraging word of advice. My morale was low, and I was alone. I was eight hours away from home and two and a half hours away from decent cell service. I hadn’t seen another person in two days. This was it – a warm welcome to the general season bear hunt in Idaho.

I had been looking forward to bear hunting for six months. I was invited to hunt with the Dumas family along with my father and sister. As a family, this was our second time hunting bears over bait.

The first time was a learning curve, but we had it figured out, or so I thought. However, I was in for a rude awakening.

The night of Friday, May 13th I lay awake in bed, stirring with anticipation. Saturday morning came later versus sooner as I threw my bag of gear in my truck and headed for bear country. That drive changed the whole meaning of the hunt after I answered a phone call from Jeff Dumas. A rock in my stomach formed when he told me that things had come up at work and he couldn’t make it to bear camp until the next weekend. What was supposed to be a bear camp filled with laughter, coffee, and good company now just turned into

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a solo mission, starring yours truly. To top it off, my sister and dad could only hunt Saturday and Sunday. They had to be back to work Monday. That left me to handle things by myself. Now, I don’t mind hunting solo, but having been in the area only once before the hunt and knowing that cell service was limited, my nerves were shot.

Saturday, May 14 – Day 1 “Uh, guys... I don’t know what’s been here, but it’s been hungry!”

My sister exclaimed as she walked to the bait crib. One word, “Obliterated.” The bait was nearly gone, but our excitement was full as we checked the trail camera. Huddled around a small camera screen, we started to scroll through the pictures. “Crow. Crow. Crow. Squirrel.

Wow!” Looking up at my sister, I said, “This is him. This is the bear we have been waiting for.” The King of the forest had finally hit our crib. A chocolate bear that dwarfed everything else. A giant in his own right was now addicted to our bait. The waiting game began.

7:30 pm Nodding off in the tree stand, I was suddenly awakened by a “whack” from my dad. Instantly alert, I looked down at him. Dad was in the same tree but a different stand. He did ‘the finger’ (a gesture to point out an animal on its way into shooting range, not to be confused with ‘the bird’). It was him, Chocolate. Fighting off exhaustion was no longer an issue as I watched the bruin silently walk toward the bait crib. This bear had my name all over it, but it was my sister’s opportunity to have the first shot. She was in a different Continued on Page 34

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tree – a perfect 20 yard shot to the bait. My father and I were 11 yards away. Chocolate walked up above the bait. Here at a mere ten yards above the bait crib, he decided to take a snooze. After rolling on his back to scratch his belly and after licking his paws, the bear quietly tucked his legs in front of his vitals and fell asleep. My sister was given instructions to wait for him to hit the bait, so we waited patiently.

45 minutes later, Chocolate woke. After conversations of broken sign language and lip reading between, my sister, my dad, and myself, it was show time.

Chocolate stood up and stretched, but he provided no shot. Suddenly, he realized something was wrong. He didn’t blow out, but quietly started slipping through the trees away from the bait. Knowing my sister didn’t have a shot, I grabbed my bow, and I knew it was do or die. Drawing back, I noticed I was running out of shooting lanes. I had one last chance – a paper plate sized hole in the pine limbs at 20 yards to an actual shot distance at around thirty yards. He stepped

in view as I squeezed my release and my arrow rocketed through the gap perfectly but ducked low at the last second. As the bear darted off up the hill, I was crushed. Knowing the bear had narrowly escaped death, must have been a sign of relief for him. But it turned into a world of heart ache for me.

After finding my arrow clean, but demolished by a rock, we knew there was no chance of lethal injury so we headed back to camp to be formally welcomed to the mountain range by a hellacious rain storm that lasted all of Sunday. Before I knew it, my family went home for the week and I was left to conquer this bear hunt by myself.

Monday, May 16 At high noon, I loaded myself with stale pastries and headed for the bait. Knowing there was a chance for bears in the morning, I decided to stock baits in the middle of the day hoping to steer clear of an encounter with a bruin on the ground. I made the trip in a t- shirt and jeans. Smelling like a donut sweat shop, I made it to within one hundred yards of the bait, but was panting due to the steep incline. I continued on, inching up the hill step by step. With 45 yards to go, I took one last break before I reached my destination. While wiping the sweat from my forehead, I glanced at the bait to get a visual, and I caught movement. After a few seconds of observation, I was smacked with reality. A young blonde bear was at the bait, and I didn’t have a bow. Great. Thankfully, he hadn’t detected my presence, and I was able to slip away undetected. I hustled back to my Polaris to go get my bow, but upon my return, the bear was long gone. So I

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sat from 12:30 until dark only to be greeted by the loneliness of the dark pines. It was time to regroup.

Tuesday, May 17 Nothing.

I ventured to the ridge, and after doing circles with my hand in the air for 20 minutes, I was able to finally get a call out to my dad. I was met with a broken “ Hey, --w’s the we-th-r? I --ecked -nd you’re read- to get - week’s worth of na-ty!” .. “Come on, Kaid, think -fill in the blanks. I realized what he was saying, bad weather on the horizon, great. “Sweet. Thanks, for the heads up. I am getting spanked. Every opportunity was slipping through my grasp, and...”

“Beep, Beep, Beep”, dropped again.

I had to grasp the reality that I might not fill my tag. This hunt was a challenge, both mentally and physically. For me though, I wasn’t ready to go down without a fight. I came here for the test, and I wasn’t going to give in just yet. But without the ability to vent over a long conversation with someone other than a tree and with days both lonely and long, I was more than discouraged. I was starting to watch the sand slip from the hour glass.

Wednesday May 18th My eyes broke open to the sound of a blaring alarm. Tired, sore, and discouraged, I was headed to sit for the morning hours in my tree stand. As I crawled out of my sleeping bag, I checked the time.

I was late. What was once a relaxed morning routine transformed into a wild goose chase as I hunted down enough layers, boots, bow and release. On the walk in, I choked down 2 granola bars that had ridden around in my back pack for at least a year and a half. At 6:15 am, I slowly crawled into my stand and began to wait.

At 7:00 am sharp, I caught a glimpse of movement above me. It was a bear, and he was big. As he meandered across the hillside, I had him at under forty yards but convinced myself to wait. Fortune cookies always say “patience is a virtue” but today, it was a bow hunting tactic. Silently the bear worked onto a trail that came to the bait. Urged by a strong gut feeling, I told myself it was only a matter of time before a shot presented itself. While attempting to field judge the bear as he crept across the forest floor, I determined that he was a mature bear. It wasn’t until he walked into an opening, that the sun cast morning light upon a beautiful coat of cinnamon hair.

He was a shooter. Nerves had taken full effect as I caught myself shaking uncontrollably, even though I told myself to keep calm because with each step the bruin took, he became more and more cautious of his surroundings. Praying under my breath that he would take the bait, literally, while watching him come to the bait one step at a time. I was judging his yardage in my mind, 25 yards turned to 20, and before I knew it, he was at the top of the crib. The bear paused, and time stood still as he stuck his nose in the air to provide a final judgement before fully committing. That moment felt like an eternity. I was frozen like a statute perched quietly in the pine right above him waiting on his next move in the life or death game of chess we were both now playing.

The bear then turned and picked his way around the edge of the bait station. He committed, and my opportunity was on the horizon.

As he lost himself behind the edge of the crib, I grabbed my bow, slowly inching it off of the hanger. The bear came around and started to feed. I had almost worn out my range finder on that location during my sitting marathons in days prior. 13 yards, quartering away – a chip shot for any western hunter, but with a bear on the Continued on Page 36

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receiving end could make one nervous. As I slowly drew my bow, I was surrounded by the intensity, tension, and truth. This was the moment. Everything in the world all of the sudden didn’t matter. It was me and the bear, lost in that moment. The cinnamon bear began to scan the hillside and raise his nose. He heard me draw. Nerves had melted into instinct and muscle memory as I waited for the shot to present itself again at full draw. Finally the cinnamon put his head back down and started feeding again, I settled the sight pin against the back of his rib cage and began to squeeze the release.

My arrow rocketed from the Hoyt bow, and followed with a smack. Immediately the bear spun around and left the bait, bounding off into the pine thicket. Glancing back to the bait where the bear once stood, I saw my arrow stuck in the bait, with the Nocturnal nock glowing. The thought process after the shot was interrupted by the sound of a large crash and death moan as the bear surrendered, that assured me that the shot was lethal.

While carefully following the obvious blood trail, I found one of the mountains’ predators lying there, lifeless. As I picked up a paw and stroked his hide, I was overwhelmed with emotion. The circle of life and death had just played out before my eyes. A very humbling, emotional, and intense sense of thought overwhelmed me. I can only thank God himself for allowing it to happen. The opportunity to take instead of being taken by the very beauty he created.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang upon the lonesome ridge.

Finally, “Hello?” My dad answered. “Dad, I hate bear hunting.” I said. “What’s wrong now?” He asked, very broken. “I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster, frustrated, and before I know it, my journey is done.” The risk versus the reward is something we all experience in daily life, but for me the risk of the unknown paid off with a memory, and a beautiful Pope and Young bear that wasn’t bought but earned.

My story isn’t alone, and as I left I closed just another story book that is lost in the deep pines, just like many others before me on the public lands in Idaho.

Author’s Note: I cannot express enough thanks to Jeff Dumas and family for allowing me to experience the unforgiving Idaho wilderness.

Without his hard work and dedication, this wouldn’t have been possible.

Even though I was by myself for the majority of my adventure, I didn’t make it happen alone.

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Hunts run from September through the end of December. rebelranchoutfitters.com

rebelranchoutfitters@gmail.com 319.238.1501 AVId Hunting & outdoors Summer 2016 37

Mother Nature

By Kevin Brookes

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HUNTING

I wish I could tell you that the canoe ride back to

our truck was spent pleasantly paddling along the lakeshore while reminiscing about our short but

memorable hunt. Mother Nature had other plans.

O

n opening morning of the Colorado muzzleloader season, my father and I canoed, and then hiked into a remote area I had scouted heavily all summer.

I was actually drawn to this particular area after having located a giant mule deer during my preseason scouting efforts. Coincidentally, this remote Colorado basin holds a healthy herd of elk too! We felt very lucky to be in such a scenic place for the opener with tags for both elk and deer in our packs.

As the sun began to slowly illuminate the woods around us we decided to split up in an effort to cover more ground. I sent my father into an area that was literally covered with elk sign hoping he would get a shot at a bull, and I looped around to the west in search of the massive mule deer. Not long after we parted ways, I heard a bugle in the valley below me as I crested a small ridge. The bugle sounded weak and I almost convinced myself that another hunter (who was just learning to call elk) had made his way into the same area. Although unsure who or what I would be calling to, I decided to make some cow calls anyway “just in case” it was actually a bull. Just as I finished my short, relatively quiet calling sequence I heard another bugle, and again I questioned the legitimacy of it. I remember thinking to myself; this is either the smallest spike bull in Colorado, or a hunter with super human hearing!

After calling, I waited and watched the valley below me with intensity, and honestly, curiosity until I caught a quick glimpse of antlers moving through the trees below me. Because of the terrain features I still hadn’t gotten of a good look of him, so I called one more time to get him to commit.

I called, and he committed! I’ll never forget the sight of this giant bull running up the valley straight towards me! He closed in very quickly and again, right at me, only offering a frontal shot.

He bugled one last time at 40 yards, an experience which will be etched in my memory forever. I remember leaning against a tree to steady my rifle while telling myself, “Kevin, if there is one shot you have to make as a hunter, it’s this one”. I took

the shot. After the smoke cleared, my father’s voice came across the radio. “Was that you”? I could barely contain my excitement, “Yes! He’s huge; he has 8 points on one side”! I couldn’t believe what had just transpired in such a short period of time. A questionable bugle turned into a rut crazed bull charging right at me in a matter of minutes! And I was able to compose myself long enough to make a good shot.

My father quickly made his way over to me. After admiring the bull and assessing the situation, we decided my father would start breaking down the elk as I hiked back around the mountain to retrieve our canoe. After paddling as close as I could, and then Continued on Page 40

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Continued from Page 39

hiking back up the mountain to the kill site, we loaded up our packs with meat and began our descent to the lake below. We planned to return for the antlers and the remainder of our gear the next morning.

After such an exhausting day hiking, packing elk, and paddling a canoe we needed a good meal. I’ll tell you this, after such a grueling day, the freeze dried beef stroganoff we had for dinner was one of the best meals of our lives! After dinner we quickly crashed for the night knowing the next day would be just as tiresome.

When we had gotten everything off of the mountain, we loaded the canoe for the next part of our adventure. I wish I could tell you that the canoe ride back to our truck was spent pleasantly paddling along the lakeshore while reminiscing about our short but memorable hunt. Mother Nature had other plans. Just as we were beginning to paddle out of our cozy little cove on the lake, it began to rain. The rain was accompanied by swift wind that left major white caps on the main portion of the lake. With two men, our gear, and a bull elk in the canoe; we still decided to press onward. The wind was now dictating our direction of travel, and we quickly realized we were in trouble. Luckily we were able to flag down a Good Samaritan with a boat and have them tow us through the treacherous conditions. After the most stressful 45 minutes of my life, we were back to our truck in one piece with all of our gear and my magnificent bull.

Time spent in the woods with my father will always be cherished. Neither one of us will ever forget this hunt, nor the trials and tribulations associated with hunting elk in the backcountry of Colorado in true adventurer fashion. We’re already planning our next Colorado adventure.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The following year, I was able to harvest a great mule deer buck in the same area. The key to hunting success is not only a positive attitude while afield, but also great hunting spots! I am lucky to have found several amazing spots in my home state of Colorado.

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“Because They Gave It All…We Are Giving It Back!”

“ is the very price and condition of man’s survival.”

-Carlos P. Ramulo

Sgt. Corey Garmon, US Army

First bull elk as a double amputee

Check out the smile on this soldier’s face! Sgt. Corey Garmon, from Wishes For Warriors, was invited to Utah for a bull elk adventure with Jana Waller from SkullBound TV and The R & K Hunting Co.! Corey successfully harvested his first bull elk hunt here in Henefer, Utah thanks to The R & K Hunting Co. as a double amputee proving that you CAN live out your dreams and passions after experiencing a life altering injury. This wish wouldn’t have been made possible without Jana Waller and the incredible guides at The R & K Hunting Co. Together, we are changing lives…One vet at a time!

www.WishesForWarriorsCorp.org

Wishes For Warriors is a tax exempt 501(c)(3) Organization EIN#46-4558308

AVId Hunting & outdoors April-June 2016

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Creeks and Streams

By The Gubler Brothers

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J

une 12th, 2015 was the day that I fell in love with fishing small creeks and streams. Just two days earlier my little brother was called to spread the good word of The Lord to the people of Mexico. Being that he only had a week before he had to leave we figured it was a great excuse to make a weekend trip to what is now one of our favorite fishing spots.

We all made arrangements to leave work early on Friday to spend the weekend fishing as brothers. Noon rolled around, the truck was loaded, and we were ready to hit the road. About six hours later we had arrived at camp, and we were ready to hit some unknown waters.

FISHING

Working at a sporting goods store through college had its benefits.

One night a guy I’d never met in my life tipped me off about some streams I knew existed but I didn’t know they held brook, brown, and cutthroat trout – a fly fisherman’s heaven. Now, knowing what supposedly was sitting in these deep holes, we were all as giddy as six year olds on Christmas morning waiting for his Red Ryder BB gun from Santa. With our waders on, packs strapped, and rod in hand, we were ready to drop a hand tied fly to “Mr. Brown” or “Mrs. Brookie.”

Fishing started slow at first and I remember my older brother telling me that guy I had met at work had fed us a “line,” and we wasted our time traveling to new waters.

As most fly fisherman know, there is nothing more gratifying than catching a fish on a fly you tied by hand. We have a contest every time we go out to see who can catch the first fish on a hand tied fly. Well this time, nobody was victorious. After what seemed like hours of fishing, but was probably 15 minutes, we went back to our “bread and butter” fly. From there on out, it seemed as if the trout were in a line at a buffet waiting for a bead headed gold ribbed hares ear to come bouncing off the bottom towards them. It was now game time and seemed as if with each cast, we were either landing a fish or missing the hook set. Eventually, we would fish out Continued on Page 44

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Continued from Page 43

one hole and move to the next. Each hole held its own surprise. We never knew what kind of trout would be pulled out. One thing was for sure though, you could count on three or four fish from each hole. It was surprising to see how much the brook trout would change in characteristics. One fish had lots of orange with bright blue, red, and yellow spots and then its brother in the next hole was more green and pale.

The six foot three weight rod seemed out of its element when the occasional brown trout hit the end of the line while proving to us the general fierceness of the species. They would fly upstream or downstream with hare ear stuck to their jaw trying everything they could to toss that fly as we were stumbling over rocks and other obstacles as we tried to net “Mr. Brown.�

The days and weeks following our adventure on small spring fed streams and creeks, we were left in awe. Not only by what was in the next hole, but also by surroundings that were around us that weekend. We have been back since this trip, and we have yet to be disappointed. That weekend those small tributaries of water carved their own way through our book of remembrance leaving us with the itch to fish small waters any chance we get.

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FISHING

Redington Boots and Waders

By The Gubler Brothers

N

othing can ruin a good day fishing like getting soaked to the bone while wading in the river waiting for the catch of a lifetime. At just $139.95 the Redington Palix River wading pants can save the day. They are perfect for the common angler or the professional, without breaking the bank or sacrificing any quality. The pants breathe impressively well.

While other pants can leave you damp from condensation created inside, we were pleasantly surprised when we took them off to see and feel that our layers underneath were completely dry. They also are extremely comfortable and flex with your body movements. Whether kneeling in the water to release a prized catch or crouching down to sneak in on that hole holding spooky trout, Palix River pants are designed to move with you. They are made out of 100% polyester, 3-layer DWR coated fabric, and even strategically placed seams in high-wear areas creating greater durability. Not only are they strong and comfortable but the Palix River pants were easy to pull on and fit nice and snug around the waist resulting in no restriction at all. Additionally, the neoprene boots fit our feet well giving them plenty of room to move inside of the wader boots leaving your feet feeling comfortable.

We also recommend complementing these awesome wader pants with the Redington Prowler wading boots. The Prowler Boots also came in at a very affordable price, retailing at only $149.95 and have an attractive modern aesthetic appeal. The Prowler is a very durable boot, with molded rubber overlays in places of high wear, a molded PU midsole for strength without the added weight, and a wide sole for stability. The mesh-lined interior and drain holes keep your feet dry by quickly dispersing the water out of the boot. The material used to build and structure both the rubber sole and felt bottom styles is of the highest quality available. The Prowlers have to be by far the most comfortable wader boots we have put to work.

While testing the gear we were in and out of the water for hours, as well as crossing back and forth to get the best angle to reach that bruiser trout. We were impressed at how fast both pieces of gear dried out. The water would literally bead and roll of the waders and the boots. Another angler who was with us but wearing wader pants made by a different manufacturer still had wet neoprene socks and boots when we got back to the truck; however, our Redington gear was completely dry and ready to be put in the bag. Hands down the Redington Palix River pants and the Prowler boots will stand their ground against the big dogs out there in the wader world. We give both pieces of gear two thumbs up.

AVId Hunting & outdoors Summer 2016

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REVI EW

What Do You See?

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GEAR

A

n essential element for successful hunting is a great set of binoculars. It may seem strange to those who have never purchased binoculars before, but it takes research and knowledge to secure a quality pair. Over the years as technology has improved, so have binoculars. A quality pair of binoculars will provide greater clarity and last longer than a cheap pair. However, with so many options to choose from it can be difficult to determine which is best for you. Therefore, we picked some top end brands, Swarovski EL, Leica Ultravid HDPlus, Vortex Razor HD and Maven B.1, and put them to the test comparing different elements such as clarity, visibility, weight and price to help you decide which one is right for you.

While testing all these products over the course of a few months, we started to realize the strengths of each individual brand. One factor that stood out was clarity, which is crucial in determining a quality set of binoculars. To test clarity, we took each binocular and mounted them on a tripod with a mirrorless camera mounted on another tripod. Then we took a picture using the same settings (F/4

9mm 1/3200 sec ISO 6400). The ISO is high but the pictures were taken early in the morning creating a low light situation. The images have been cropped, however there was no other editing or enhancing of the photos. Look close at the AVID on the hat and the yellow flowers to see which pictures were the sharpest, to give an indication of the clarity of each binocular.

1. Swarovski EL 10X42 The EL binoculars by SWAROVSKI OPTIK marked a milestone in long-range optics. The crystal clear optics provided by SWAROVISION technology enables a hunter to make the right decision in almost any hunting situation. The 10x42 EL’s have a very solid feel. The high quality glass provided by Swarovski is top of the line. The Swarovski EL’s really are hard to beat, and in our opinion you get what you pay for when it comes to them. These binoculars were not the heaviest in our group but they were a close second.

Although the price may seem intimidating, these are a high quality product and worth the investment.

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AVId Hunting & outdoors Summer 2016

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GEAR

Continued from Page 49 Swarovski EL 10x42 Magnification: 10x Exit pupil diameter (mm): 4.2 Exit pupil distance (eye relief) (mm): 20 Field of view (ft/1000 yds / m/1000 m): 336 / 112 Field of view: 6.4 degrees Width approx. (in/mm): 5.2 / 131 Length approx. (in/mm): 6.3 / 160 Weight approx. (oz/g): 29.6

LEICA ULTRAVID HD-PLUS 10X42 Magnification: 10x Exit pupil: 4.2 mm Field of view at 1,000 yds: 112m/336 ft Weight approx.: 26.5 oz Eye Relief: 16mm Dimensions: 4 3⁄4 x 5 3⁄4 x 2 3⁄4 in

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2. Leica Ultravid HD-Plus 10X42

VORTEX RAZOR HD 10X50 Magnification: 10x Eye Relief: 16.5 mm Exit Pupil: 5 mm Linear Field of View: 315 feet/1000 yards Height: 6.8 inches Width: 5.1 inches Weight: 28.1 ounces

MAVEN B.1 10x42 Magnification: 10x Eye Relief: 16mm Exit Pupil: 4.2mm Field of view (ft/1000 yds): 341 feet Dimension WxHxD: 5x6.2x2.1 Weight: 29.75oz

The Leica Ultravid HD-Plus series is a precise combination of state of the art technology, new coating processes, and innovative glass materials. The Ultravid 10X42HD-Plus series are among the most compact binoculars available on the market in their class. In addition, their light-gathering power can compete with the larger 50mm models on the market. The Leica Ultravid HD-Plus has the whole package. Arguably, Leica offers the best edge-to-edge clarity, while still being the smallest and lightest in our group.

3. Vortex Razor HD 10X50 Razor HDs step up and out on other binoculars in their class.

Small, light, bright, strong, and packed with superior quality. The hand selected prisms and premium HD extra-low dispersion glass are among the best available today. Vortex Razor’s clarity and brightness does not match up to the Leica Ultravid HD-Plus or the Swarovski EL’s but the weight was considerably lighter. We tested the 10x50 model and they were still 1.5oz lighter than the Swarovski EL’s. Price is also very reasonable considering this is the most expensive model available by Vortex and includes the lifetime Vortex warranty. The Vortex VIP unconditional lifetime warranty has a proven track record by consistently following through with their customers making the Vortex Razor a worthwhile investment.

GEAR

4. Maven B.1 10X42 The new kid on the block has introduced the B series binoculars. These are unique from the rest in that they are customized to fit individual needs. Maven’s B1’s are the cheapest in our group however they still offer a good low light performance and edge-to-edge clarity. Clarity and brightness does not compare to the Leica Ultravid HD-Plus or the Swarovski EL but it is similar to the Vortex Razor. As for weight, they come in at our heaviest pair and the pair we tested also had a very stiff focus adjustment.

However, the Maven B.1 is backed by an unconditional lifetime warranty. The warranty also covers all the customized options. For the price they are a deal with a lot to offer.

See Comparisons of the Optics on Page 52 In our conclusion you get what you pay for. If you want the brightest with the best edge-to-edge clarity then go with Swarovski or Leica. If money is a concern but you want something that is a step up from the mid-level binoculars and has an unconditional warranty go with Vortex or Maven. While neither Swarovski nor Leica offer the proven warranty system Vortex has, they do stand behind their

product and take care of their customers. These companies just have more strict policies to weed out any that would take advantage of the system. Ultimately the choice is up to you, and while there are some other brands out there that could potentially have good optics, this group we have tested is our favorite, and you really can’t go wrong with any of these four.

AVId Hunting & outdoors Summer 2016

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The Results:

Swarovski EL 10X42

Leica Ultravid HD-Plus 10X42

Maven B.1 10X42

Vortex Razor HD 10X50

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ZAMBERLAN BOOTS

A

good hiking or hunting boot can make or break a trip. Dependability and comfort will determine whether you scale a mountain face or sit on your tail at the bottom of a canyon. Your feet are crucial to keep you going and neglecting them can leave you sore and blistered for weeks. To avoid that pain and discomfort and ensure you have a good hike, you need strong reliable footwear like Zamberlan boots.

Not every hunting trip is the same and not all boots will be perfect for every trip. Therefore, Zamberlan has got you covered with their wide variety of boots, specifically designed to take on different environments. The 980 Outfitter GTX offers a stiffer trekking style boot, but will never require crampon system, ideal for long, back country treks. The 4039 Expert Ibex is as strong as they come, without sacrificing any comfort. The Expert Ibex was built for extreme adventure.

For early season hunters Zamberlan has got you covered with the 1014 Lynx GTX. This boot had the easiest break in period of the group and the best breathability and traction, perfect for keeping your steps quiet. Ultimately, all these boots are expertly built to take on whatever you can throw at them while still keeping your feet comfortable and solid.

Zamberlan, built for comfort, built to last, built for you.

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GEAR

Continued from Page 53

ZAMBERLAN 1014 LYNX MID GTX

The Lynx Mid GTX boot is a lightweight, early-season boot, made for those long backcountry hunts. Though we recommend a 1-5-mile break-in period, these boots were mountain and hunt ready, right out of the box, so comfortable and flexible. The 1014 Lynx Mid GTX Boot also has the Camouflaged Zamberlan Vibram® 3D outsoles. The outsoles are very rugged and make a strong grip and excellent traction. Perfect for close range hunting when you need to sneak up and not be heard. These boots can help you get in position to line up the perfect shot. Another great feature is the Gore-Tex® Performance Comfort membranes which guarantee waterproof protection and breathability for the life of the boot. These boots have been thoroughly tested and offered excellent breathability, support and comfort for those long backcountry hunts. If you are planning on hiking a lot of miles in the backcountry make sure you check out the Zamberlan 1014 Lynx Mid GTX hunting Boot.

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MADE IN:

ITALY

UPPER

HYDROBLOC® NABUK LEATHER

LEATHER THICKNESS

2,4/2,6 mm

HARDWARE

H.R.T. "HIGH RESISTANCE TREATMENT"

LINING

GORE-TEX® PERFORMANCE COMFORT

FOOTBED

ZAMBERLAN® MEMORY FOAM

PADDING

Z.A.S. "ZAMBERLAN AIR SYSTEM"

INSOLE/SHANK

ZAMBERLAN MODULAR FLEX GT

TOE AND HEEL

THERMOPLASTIC

SOLE PACKAGE

ZAMBERLAN® VIBRAM® 3D

CONSTRUCTION

GTX BOOTEE

WEIGHT (GRAMS)

760

SIZES

USA Men's 8 -12,13

CARE

HYDROBLOC® PROOFING CONDITIONER

FIT

MEN'S

GEAR

Zamberlan 980 OUTFITTER GTX RR

The GTX RR can take your ground game to the next level. The GTX RR is built for backcountry terrain, excelling in durability.

After a short break-in period of 5-7 miles, the resilience of these boots really shines. From climbing over rugged rocks to trudging through marshy river bottoms, the GTX RR held strong while also maintaining comfort. This boot forms to your foot, giving a precise custom fit. Using cutting edge technology, Zamberlan has made this boot able to work for any user, and will surely not disappoint. If you are looking for an all-around exceptional boot, then the 980 Outfitter GTX RR is for you. We thoroughly tested these boots and approve them AVID tested.

MADE IN:

ITALY

UPPER

HYDROBLOC® NABUK LEATHER

LEATHER THICKNESS

2,6/2,8 mm

UPPER PROTECTION

R.R.S. “RUBBER REINFORCEMENT SYSTEM”

HARDWARE

H.R.T. “HIGH RESISTANCE TREATMENT”

LINING

GORE-TEX® PERFORMANCE COMFORT

FOOTBED

ZAMBERLAN® Z-COMFORT FIT FOOTBED

PADDING

Z.A.S. “ZAMBERLAN AIR SYSTEM”

INSOLE/SHANK

ZAMBERLAN MODULAR FLEX GT

TOE AND HEEL

THERMOPLASTIC

SOLE PACKAGE

VIBRAM® STAR TREK

CONSTRUCTION

GTX BOOTEE

WEIGHT (GRAMS)

990

SIZES

USA Men’s 8 -12,13

CARE

HYDROBLOC® PROOFING CONDITIONER

FIT

MEN’S Continued on Page 56

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GEAR

Zamberlan Expert Ibex GTX RR

The Zamberlan Expert Ibex boots says it all in the name. These boots are definitely the expert, made to take a beating. The Expert Ibex boots can be used for technical climbing or mountain hunting. However, they excel in “high performance” areas such as glaciers or high mountaineering environments with very rocky or steep terrain. Though in a pinch, right before a hunt, without any time for break in, these boot would still work.

They were very comfortable right out of the box, and during the initial 10 mile test they showed no signs of ache or pain. Surprisingly these boots weigh in at 2 pounds, slightly heavier than most boots, but the fit was exceptional making the weight less noticeable. The boots are impressively soft and comfortable while maintaining a firm sole and shank for outlasting rocky, rugged territory. The Zamberlan Expert Ibex was built to be put to the test and bring out the expert in you.

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MADE IN:

ITALY

UPPER

HYDROBLOC® ROUGH OUT LEATHER

LEATHER THICKNESS

2,8/3,0 mm

UPPER PROTECTION

R.R.S. "RUBBER REINFORCEMENT SYSTEM"

HARDWARE

H.R.T. "HIGH RESISTANCE TREATMENT"

LINING

GORE-TEX® INSULATED COMFORT

FOOTBED

ZAMBERLAN® Z-THERMO FOOTBED

PADDING

Z.A.S. "ZAMBERLAN AIR SYSTEM"

INSOLE/SHANK

ZAMBERLAN DURAFLEX

TOE AND HEEL

THERMOPLASTIC

SOLE PACKAGE

VIBRAM® TETON + ZAMBERLAN® PCS + DUAL DENSITY PU WEDGE

CONSTRUCTION

GTX BOOTEE

LACING SYSTEM

TO-TOE

WEIGHT (GRAMS)

1,010

SIZES

USA Men's 8 -12,13

CARE

HYDROBLOC® PROOFING CONDITIONER

FIT

MEN'S

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GEAR

Native Eyewear

N

ative’s sleek rugged design and over durability is off the charts. Each pair comes with a polarized lens kit. The most innovative and advanced polarized lens on the market.

N3™ lenses block up to 4X more infrared light than regular polarized lenses, pass Z87.1 testing, provide UV protection up to 400nm, and by significantly reducing blue light and selectively filtering UV, they deliver high contrast, crisp definition, and peak visual acuity.

Native backs their eyewear by the Native lifetime warranty, for $30 you can replace your pair no matter the circumstances. Which means you can get back to business!

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GEAR

Kings Camo Transition Jacket & Vest Kings has taken a step in a new direction with their new ultralight Extreme series. The XKG layering system has been built for those hunters that want to take it to the next level.

The new Transition jacket is one part of the XKG series and is comfortably used as a mid to outer layer for cooler temperatures.

With 100 grams of loft insulation this piece can be vital for keeping those core temperatures where they should be. The problem with several mid-layer jackets or vests we have used in the past has been weight and restrictiveness. The Transition Vest allows for even more movability because it’s sleeveless. Both products are very lightweight and allow for some heavy layering if necessary.

Both the vest and jacket stuff into a zip pocket, this feature really hit home with us because of the weight and size of the jacket.

Instantly we thought you could use the ten-inch size square as a pillow if necessary. The convenience of stuffing this jacket or vest into your pack and knowing that you have a backup of insulation for any trip is of huge value.

If you are looking for value, quality, and the “next level” gear then make sure you check out the XKG line by Kings.

Transition Jacket - $149.99 Transition Vest - $99.99 Specs XKG Synthetic Loft - 100 Grams 100% Micro Ripstop Polyster Stretch Fleece Side Panels Stuff in Zip Pocket Lighweight & Packable Two Side Zip Pockets DWR Water Resistant Treatment Available Patterns: Desert Shadow Camo Mountain Shadow Camo Layering System L2 Ridge Pant L2 Hightop Hoodie L2 Hightop Pullover L3 Transition Vest L3 Transition Jacket L4 Lone Peak Jacket L5 Windstorm Rain Jacket L5 Windstorm Rain Pant

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GEAR

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GEAR

Work Sharp Ken Onion Edition

W

ork Sharp has teamed up with renowned knife maker Ken Onion to deliver the ultimate sharpening solution for your home or workshop. The Work Sharp Knife & Tool Sharpener - Ken Onion Edition will sharpen every knife you own, quickly and easily We used the Ken Onion Edition by Work Sharp to Sharpen 14 different knives. With several different steel types and edges the Ken Onion Edition worked flawlessly. Work Sharp has truly built a masterpiece.

Whether you are getting ready for your next big hunting trip or need to sharpen your kitchen cleaver the Ken Onion Edition makes short work to refine a very sharp edge. The combination of Work Sharp engineering and Ken Onion’s industrial design has created a fast, easy and stylish way to sharpen all your knives and tools with precision and repeatability.

If you have ever used an industrial sharpener you know that getting the right edge on a kife can be very difficult.

You don’t have to be a professional knife sharpener to operate the Ken Onion Edition, Work Sharp has thought of everything to make sharpening your knives or tools that much easier and convenient. With the belt guide to help you from start to finish it was very easy to integrate all 14 knives that were tested. You can take the entire platform out of the box and start sharpening. If you don’t like reading instruction booklets, you can find the introduction video on Work Sharp’s website. http://www. worksharptools.com/ken-onion-editionknife-and-tool-sharpener.html.

The Ken Onion Edition put a remarkably sharp edge on each knife.

Depending on the different steel types the edges varied slightly. Each knife was thoroughly tested while cutting through a 1” piece of open cell poly foam. Once again depending on the type of steel each knife worked phenomenally. With at least 10+ passes on the 6,000 grit belt each edge was substantially sharper than the factory edge.

With an MSRP of $149.99 the Ken Onion Edition sharpening platform is 100% worth the cost 100 times over! www.worksharptools.com

Motor

120VAC / 1.5 Amp

Power Switch

Variable Speed; On / Off / Momentary

Duty Cycle

1 hr continous

Abrasives Included

P120 X65 (P220) X22 (P1000) X4 (P3000) 6000

Abrasive Size

3/4" x 12"

Sharpening Guides

Adjustable, 15° - 30°

Retractable Honing Rod

No

Attachments

Tool Grinding Attachment Blade Grinding Attachment

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Call It

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OUTDOORS

By Vince Donohue

M

arch had left me cooped up in the office. Thankfully, a weekend in Southern Utah calling in yotes and hunting sheds was the perfect remedy for my winter ills.

Our first stop for our morning adventure left us hopeful even though we knew there were dogs in the area. We found our spot and heard a pack of coyotes barking. However, something seemed odd. But we continued our pursuit and sat down and made our sequence.

After twenty minutes or so, activity from the coyotes ceased. So we packed our gear up and headed out. I remarked to my friend, “Man that pack barking sure sounded like the coyote group on the foxpro.”

Sure enough I was right. We saw several groups of hunters on four wheelers leaving as we made our way to what we hoped would be a remote area. However, this “remote area” proved unsuccessful as well. As we were walking out, my friend looked at me and said, “Do you hear that? It sounds like the FoxPro turkey call.” We looked up on the side of nearby hill and saw two guys sitting there.”

This seems to be a growing challenge when hunting coyotes in this region. As the sport of coyote hunting has grown, more and more hunters are using the electronic game call.

Rookie hunters are turning to the “quick easy” call.

Being a somewhat seasoned coyote hunter, I have had several fellow hunters ask me, “What kind of calls do you use?” I always tell them that I use mix of electronic calls, hand calls, and diaphragm calls. I feel it best to mix up how you “coyote call.” It is best not to rely on one style of “calling” to achieve success.

For instance, the season and location typically determine what call I’m going to use. Beginning in the late summer and early fall when the pup groups are most active, I will use primarily electronic calls with a mix of diaphragm calls. While I have used several brands of electronic calls including Primos, Johnny Stewart, and Ruger’s Bluetooth call, I have found the FoxPro Brand to be most successful. I have had success with both the low-end and high-end models. For the record, I am not sponsored by FoxPro. But I have

found that the FoxPro brand has the most effective pure sound in the high pitch range.

However, from winter to early spring, I use mostly hand calls and diaphragm calls with limited electronic calls. I haven’t found any brand to be more effective when it relates to hand calls. But if I am doing anything with a distress sound, I prefer a closed reed call.

When I want to create a howling or open reed call, a diaphragm call seems to work best. I have found that MFK Game Calls make great diaphragm calls.

Remember when hunting yotes, don’t be afraid to step out of the box. It’s okay to step away from the electronic call. By doing so, you will be able to develop your own distinction on the “yote” sound. I have found the most success in regions where coyote hunters are increasing, to mix it up a little. Don’t just stick with one routine and do it every time. Success in one area doesn’t mean it will work in the next area.

Most importantly, dare to take the adventure. Leave the office behind, seek the open air and go the distance.

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Next Generation

By Jeremy Holm

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ociety today has become very complacent in the digital world. Our children (as a whole) have readily learned to communicate through text messages and social media rather than having a good old fashioned conversation. This is somewhat disturbing as a father of two daughters who is doing his best to educate his children about the wonders of the outdoors. What can parents do to get their kids unplugged and outside? Parents who would like to get back to basics while enjoying nature can easily enjoy time well spent with their children outside by simply including them in their outdoor pursuits. It really is that simple of a concept.

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I’ll never forget my three year old’s first “real” fishing trip. The excitement of watching her catch her first trout on a five dollar princess fishing pole matched anything I had ever experienced.

To see her revel in delight convinced me I was doing a great job as a parent. We are fortunate enough to live in St. George, Utah, where outdoor activities are easily within reach. My daughters and I attempt to take daily trips (as time permits) to escape technology and city life by either fishing or watching deer, although sometimes our forays into the outdoors are as simple as a short hike. Simply put, the repetitive nature of our outdoor enjoyment has, over time, become just another part of life.

OUTDOORS

Naturally inquisitive, children have tons of questions about what is encountered while learning about the outdoors. Take time to answer them in an attempt to educate and fill their minds with thoughts of bugling elk and rainbow trout rather than Facebook and their favorite TV programs. By providing children with pure, natural thoughts, a semblance of clarity can be obtained in an otherwise crazy world.

We’re raising the future conservationists and stewards of the land; it is our responsibility to pass on outdoor traditions and knowledge to our children. In order to secure our right to hunt and manage herds in a fashion consistent with our lifestyle, our kids must understand the importance of wildlife in relation to not only the economy but personal happiness. By arming them with knowledge and appreciation for natural resources we can effectively ensure our children pass on what they have learned to our grandchildren. The cycle will then continue to safeguard our way of life and their ability to manage the natural resources efficiently.

We all want our kids to be “well rounded” members of society. Life

skills learned while hunting and fishing such as discipline, patience and the ability to accept disappointment will help accomplish this goal. By raising kids that have an understanding of these simple facts of life we can focus on other aspects of their development more readily. Another byproduct of exposing your children to the outdoors is the physical agility they will polish as they hike and climb around the countryside. The health benefits alone should be reason enough to get your kids off the couch and into the outdoors.

The reason behind my incessant need to be outdoors with my children is simple. I was diagnosed with PTSD about five years ago; both my children and the outdoors are my “happy places”. If this illness goes unchecked, the demons of an injured mind run rampant with reckless abandon. By spending time with those I love in places I cherish, the balance is strong enough to overcome the greatest of demons. I am very thankful for my “little ladies” and owe them more than they will ever know on my road to building a lifetime of pure, stable thoughts.

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Traditional

Rush

By Mark Smeltzer

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hen I was about 15 years old I remember my dad telling me stories of giant elk in northern Idaho that he harvested with a recurve bow. He also told stories of the black bear he paddled quietly upon in his canoe and harvested with the same old recurve. When I found his box of old arrows out in the garage I marveled at their sharpness. They were made from wood – not aluminum, not carbon – but wood! Those were “the real woodsmen” back 66

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then. Ten years later my co-worker looked at me and said something I will never forget, “I wonder if a guy could build his own bow?” I didn’t know it at the time, but that is when my lifelong journey in traditional and primitive archery began.

After a year of shooting traditional archery, I decided it was time for me to start building my own bow. I decided on an Osage Selfbow. By the time I got that first Osage stave in my hand I had a fair idea of what to do. However, with every bright yellow curl

of wood that I pulled off that stave with my draw knife I was sure I had ruined the bow.

I took my time and eventually had a bow worthy of hunting.

I made a few more Osage Selfbows. After some practice, my arrows flew like darts and I was very confident of my shooting, out to about 20-yards. I was prepared to go bear hunting with everything from my 55-pound Osage Selfbow to razor sharp broadheads and strings, all hand made in my shop. I hunted the Klamath River area of Northern California where the bear population is dense enough to spot and stalk or to set up a ground blind and let one come to you. It was difficult but not discouraging figuring out the bear’s patterns season after season.

I was having the time of my life with some pretty close calls and great stories. I had been within 5-yards of an almost 400-pound black bear. As I heard him inhale a giant breath through his nose, my heart was pounding so loud I was sure he was going to hear me. He caught wind of me, let out a giant WOOOF and exploded from the spot where he stood.

In a split second the only thing left was me shaking like a leaf and his big paw prints in the soft sandy dirt.

The next season, right before the hunt started, I had to work a graveyard shift. So, I brought all my gear to work that night and with my truck already loaded up I took off on the six hour drive right after work. I figured I would make it there by noon, set up my tent and take a nap to be ready to hunt that evening. Things went according to plan and soon after setting up, being completely exhausted from working and driving, I was

OUTDOORS

out cold in minutes. While I was sleeping I was briefly woken by noise outside the tent, as if someone, or something, was going through my things. Being too tired to care I rolled over and thought briefly before fading back to sleeping, “just don’t tear anything.”

When my alarm went off waking me for the nightly hunt I surveyed my camp and sure enough there were some good sized bear tracks all over. Luckily nothing was damaged but my excitement swelled, now I knew there was a big bear nearby.

That evening I decided to sneak up the mostly dry narrow creek bottom next to my camp. A few hundred yards up the creek and I heard something. I walked slowly to the bend to get a look and there was a good sized bear about 40-yards up the creek, rolling river rocks over looking for grubs. There was no cover for me to use to get closer to the bear so I waited for him to make a move.

Within a few minutes he disappeared into a huge black berry patch. I put an arrow on the string and very slowly started making my way to the last spot I had seen the bear. I stood motionless for several minutes. Then I noticed the bear, just a few feet into the black berries, fast asleep. After my eyes adjusted to peering into the dark bushes I could see that I had a perfect shot. He was about six yards away from me and I was right out in the open.

As I drew the bow back I was intensely focused on the kill zone. I hit full draw and

stood there in shock processing everything that had just happened in the 15 seconds since I released the arrow.

After the shock wore off, I realized I had to get the bear down. I waited a few minutes, just to be on the safe side, before I started climbing the tree. It took me a bit, but I finally got above him and began the task of getting him out of the tree. After struggling and nearly falling out myself, I had the bear on the ground. It didn’t take long to field dress the bear and I had him back in camp and on ice in less than an hour. That bear was some of best wild meat that I have ever tasted. I think getting the meat on ice quick, and the fact that his diet consisted largely of black berries, helped to improve the taste.

I couldn’t believe that after three seasons of hunting hard and so many close calls that I had finally accomplished what I had set out to do. The actual hunt was such a rush and the adrenaline was so high that I had a hard time coming down from the excitement but the hunting trip and the bear season was over before I even really unpacked and got camp set up.

Traditional archery is my passion. I love making and hunting with primitive bows.

Whether it’s a modern laminated glass bow or a selfbow, promoting traditional archery is my main mission. I would love to have more hunters and target archers get in touch with root of all archery. To experience the simplicity and beauty of a wooden bow and actually be able to see the arc of the arrow as it flies through the air and not care about how many feet per second the arrow is traveling. Just shoot for the fun of it!

These days I make lots of modern laminated glass bows as well as primitive selfbows but it all started many years ago when a co-worker asked me, “I wonder if a guy could build his own bow?”

the arrow was gone. The bear exploded out of the berry patch and flew within five feet of me, toward a tree on the other side of the riverbed. In a flash he was behind me and 20-feet up the tree. I knew had I hit both lungs because blood was coming out so fast it was spraying down all over me. Then with one loud death moan the bear died.

I was expecting to get hit by the bear as it fell out of the tree, after all he was right above my head, but Owner/Bowyer- Mark Smeltzer as luck would have it Phone Number- 1 (530) 957 0437 the bear was wedged Website- www.bowmakr.com in between two very large branches. So, I

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MUSCLE MANAGEMENT

By Wilderness Athlete Kevin Gillen

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PREPAREDNESS

A common phrase today when it pertains to prioritizing is, “The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing!” I think I can make a pretty strong case that the “main thing” as it relates to health in America is unfortunately the “wrong thing.”

I recently heard on a news report that 80% of Americans are now overweight and 57 million Americans are pre-diabetic. We have become numb to the statistics that reflect a country in crisis.

It’s no secret that being overweight or obese is a catalyst for multiple health issues, so the simple question is, “Why?” Why in an era of technological breakthroughs are we killing ourselves at record pace? We are keeping people alive longer with medical breakthroughs, but the quality of life is unquestionably extremely poor. I’ve always maintained that it’s not how long you live but how long you live well.

Healthy aging should be everyone’s goal.

Not long ago, America was the healthiest nation in the world. Now we have dropped out of the top 30 and are headed south fast. Surely our diets and lifestyle are principle-contributing factors, but I want to bring to your attention a philosophical question at odds with current Western thought. The term “weight management” has long bothered me.

With all the focus on “weight management”, it’s my opinion that we have lost sight of what we really should be managing, and that is not our weight but our MUSCLE! Muscle management - not muscular management mind you – but simply muscle management.

We are functioning and active human beings only as long as we

possess a healthy muscle-to-fat ratio, so it stands to reason that a far superior argument can be made that our focus should be on our muscle and not just our overall weight.

The central focus of most weight loss programs incorporates one strategy – caloric restriction. I’m not here to name names, but you see weight loss companies advertising every single day where you purchase their prepackaged foods and the pounds just “fall off ”. And guess what? They do! What they neglect to tell you is that a large percentage of those pounds that were lost were metabolically active, calorie burning pounds of MUSCLE. Skinny Fat A recent study concluded, “when energy balance is caused by lower energy intake (through diet alone), one also loses a significant amount of lean tissue, which may be as much as 50% of the total weight lost.” Dieting alone tends to cannibalize existing muscle because the body requires quality nutrition to feed the muscle and a calorie restrictive diet strategy, by itself and repeated year after year, will lead to a body that will age prematurely and function poorly.

There is actually a phrase for this called “skinny fat”. This condition refers to the person who, through dieting alone, focuses on reaching a target goal with absolutely no regard for proper nutrition, exercise, hydration, or high quality supplementation. For those who Continued on Page 70

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incorporate this strategy in an attempt, for example, to reclaim their high school weight for the upcoming reunion, the results speak volumes. Although the goal may have been attained, the sad saggy figure staring back at you in the mirror is a far cry from the firm figure of your youth. You have basically won the battle but lost the war!

Muscle loss is the enemy of long-term health and vitality.

Muscle management is an approach that focuses on the right thing – in this case gaining, or at least retaining our muscle mass, especially during weight loss, which will lead to a much healthier muscle-to-fat ratio. The ancillary benefits are astounding, and the scientific evidence is piling up in favor of muscle management and against weight management.

The average American loses 6.6 lbs. of muscle per decade (calorierestrictive dieters lose far more). Armed with this information, we should fight like hell to hang onto what muscle we have, and the human body is more than willing to help if we do our part.

No matter the age, it’s never too late. In one study at the Human Nutrition Center on Aging, 12 men between the 60 and 72 were

put on regular supervised weight training sessions three times a week for three months. They were asked to train at 80% of their “one-rep max”. At the end of the experiment, the average strength of their quadriceps had more than doubled and the strength of their hamstrings had tripled!

In another study conducted on residents of a chronic care hospital, most of who were over 90, the subjects were placed on a weight-training program. Did it kill them? Hardly. Eight weeks later, wasted muscle had grown stronger by 300 percent, and balance and coordination were much improved. Clearly the evidence screams out that the need to “take it easy” as we age is a myth that needs to be shattered!

The value of physical activity even extends to cognitive health. A study published in Archives of Neurology, March 2001, found that people with the highest activity levels were only half as likely as inactive people to develop Alzheimer’s disease and were also substantially less likely to suffer any other form of dementia or mental impairment. The list of the health benefits literally goes on and on.

There is no such thing as the “Perfect Workout”. Don’t overthink it. I preach Production over Perfection! More than anything, I wanted to expose the myths and dangers of living a physically counterproductive life spent starving yourself or staring at your toes every morning on a scale. It appears that “the main thing is, in fact, to keep the main thing the main thing,” but hopefully you now understand that the “main thing” is not weight; it’s muscle. Manage your muscle well and I promise it will pay long-term dividends and lead to a more productive and fulfilling life.

“Go Further Stronger.” Coach P

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Duck –Year Round–

By Brian Smith

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PREPAREDNESS

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ummer is in full swing now – baseball games, family vacations, fishing trips, camping, and we can’t leave out all the yard work… I guess I shouldn’t complain too much because Miss Jess does most of that while I’m out guiding fishing trips. What a life right?

Does duck hunting season really begin in July? Yes! It is the very best time of year to get ready for the upcoming season. There are three tips that every duck hunter must consider when preparing for the upcoming season: Dog training, shooting, and calling.

Dog training It is important to keep your dog in shape. Training doesn’t stop when the season does. I’ve seen a lot of dogs get injured because they are out of shape and then are expected to go ninety miles an hour when the first duck of the season drops in the water. July is a great time of year to throw marks and use your local reservoir for swimming practice to keep your dog active, even if he is a master hunter. This is also a good time to correct any bad behavior or habits such as breaking handling and poor lining that they may have developed during the previous hunting season.

Shooting Ducks fly fast. You have to be able to take a quick aim while swinging through the shot. I’ve taken a lot of people out and they start shooting randomly and miss everything because they don’t

follow through. Of course I give them a hard time, but some tempers are lost and words start rolling off the tongue. Oh man, it makes me laugh just thinking about how upset we hunters get sometimes.

Some hunters have gotten so mad they were ready to throw their gun in the water. To avoid this comedy display, get out and practice shooting, preferably moving targets like clay pigeons, as much as you can so you can be the one give others a “hard time” for missing.

Calling Every duck hunter has at least one call, and it’s easy to recognize a hunter that has not been practicing during the off season. There are several ways to improve your calling technique. Tips include: listening to digital sound recordings of duck calls, record yourself and have someone critique your progress both inside and outside, practice with a hunting buddy, so you can experience different calling styles, and create ways to sync your calling as a team in order to bring in birds. You may also want to pick up some extra reeds and something special for your wife, perhaps ear plugs, so she doesn’t throw your calls in the trash.

Duck hunting continues all year. The summer months are perhaps more important than the season itself. Focusing on these three tips in July may make or break your hunting in October. Just like a football player keeps up on training in the off season, hunting requires the same kind of strategy and discipline. May God Bless you and your family this summer and your hunting season this fall.

ACTS 10:13 families that hunt together stay together

BRIAN SMITH 367 S Plaza Circle Grantsville, UT 84029 (435)840-5987 duck_hunter01@hotmail.com smitty_gone_wild AVId Hunting & outdoors Summer 2016

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