Ran across this article yesterday trying to figure out the differences between small pistol, small pistol magnum, and small rifle. I still didn’t quite get the information I was looking for, but this was good stuff.
Less than a month to go to javelina season. After a very successful elk season, and with very little vacation time in the bank, the excitement level is tempered somewhat for this trip.
Bullwrinkle Jr. gets to come out and join us for his first trip. I had thought he might be mature enough (he’ll have just turned 10 before the hunt) to carry a .22 and scare up a rabbit for the pot during the hunt, but recently decided otherwise. I had to break it to him a week ago that this wouldn’t happen. He was appropriately devastated, and I felt appropriately awful about it. Of course, I broke it to him with my usual tact and grace, which I’m sure helped leaven the blow. I think that I’ll carry my .22 pistol on my hip, and hand it to him if we run across Peter Cottontail. We’ll see how well he copes with the “you shoot it/you clean it” policy.
Pizza King also finally gets to join the fun with tag and rifle in hand. He’s been gearing up, literally, since his Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man days.
Uberbrewer returns to the circle as well, he was missed during Elkapalooza.
Pops should also be coming out, which means every last cubic inch of every vehicle should be filled with firewood and/or Vitamin G (I find myself secretly hoping we camp on another ant hill). Plus, I kinda hope I get to help get his new FJ Cruiser dusty.
I’ve been thinking about what firearm to carry on this trip. Since the last javelina I shot was at about 40 feet with the ol’ grocery getter, I thought that less than sporting. I carried a .44 revolver last year, and might as well been carrying a pen knife, for all the wildlife we saw. With all the anti-AR15 hysteria in the news this year, and all the times I’ve had to listen to the blathering about “what do you need that for” or “it’s not a hunting rifle”, I’ve decided to throw the 5-round mag in the AR and take it. And I’m going to encourage Uberbrewer, Gerfunken, and Uberjeffe to do the same.
Take that, hippies.
Review: I figure I better get this one out of the way first. Perhaps later updates will push it to the far corner of the dank basement of this blog, where we can all forget about the sordid details of balming my undercarriage.
I’m not a small man. In fact, I’m a big, fat, hairy, sweaty dude. I’ve been prone to monkey butt since childhood, and hunting for several days without a proper shower used to be quite painful from the second day on.
Not anymore, since I discovered Body Glide. Holy crap does this stuff work. (Well, in tandem with the camp shower gear, but that’s for another review.) Body Glide, I think, is manufactured using NASA’s own scientific formula of mother’s milk, ground unicorn horn, pixie dust, asbestos, and a sprinkle of stripper glitter. In fact, the more I sweat, the better Body Glide seems to work.
I’ve become so protective of my undercarriage that my hunting gear checklist goes: 1. license/tag, 2. gun, 3. sleeping bag, 4. Body Glide, and 5. maybe some food.
The beautiful irony is that I learned about Body Glide while eavesdropping on a conversation between two long distance runners. I thought to myself that I could cheat the game, and use the product without having to learn how to exercise. I mean, what the hell, I’ve seen people drinking Monster without competing in the X Games, and I’ve seen Gerfunken drive a Subaru without switching teams, so my confidence was high.
I didn’t even have to humble myself much when I first puchased it. I found it at the local outrageously priced mountain town outdoor gear store. They wanted approximately $400 for an amount not much larger than a tube of Chapstick. I gladly paid the money, it was a big relief to not have to waddle my fat ass into the local runner’s store to buy it. In the few years since I’ve discovered it, it has shown up in several other places, some of which even sell the larger size at a reasonable price (I’m too lazy to go look at the actual size, it’s maybe the same as a small stick of deodorant, about 3 times the size of the dinky one). Hell, even Big 5 has it now, which is awesome, since even I look thin and pretty in the Big 5 crowd.
A liberal application before the morning hunt (about the only thing I do liberally), a touch up and coverage of any hot spots before the afternoon hunts, and I can survive the day without cutting my underwear off and doing the penguin walk for hours. Uberjeffe can attest to how much less awkward that can make a hunt. Granted, I still need a shower (or at least a good whore’s bath) every other day at the least, but this bridges the gaps between showers like nothing else I’ve ever tried. And, baby, I’ve tried it all.
Rating on the 5 Orange Whip Scale: 5 Orange Whips!
Cost: Most places want 6-7 bucks for the teeny, tiny stick. Do your research and you’ll find the bigger, happier size for about 10 bucks. I’ve found the smaller size at locally-owned sporting goods and hiking/outdoor shops, and the bigger size at Big 5 and the New Balance Store.
Hunters:Gerfunken, Bullwrinkle, Bulljeffe, PTBNL2
Other guests: Taz, Pizza King
Location: AZ Unit 8
Days Hunting: 6
Weather: Cold, clear, cold, windy, and cold. No precipitation.
Unit conditions: Dusty and dry forest. No standing water in field. Water in all natural, embankment, and trick tanks.
Scouting Report: We had three days of scouting, and found fresh elk sign everywhere we looked. A reliable source told us to focus on Honey Hole (name changed for totally selfish reasons), which was an area we chased a herd around two years ago. Lots of deer sign everywhere, too. It appears that, despite their best efforts, AZGFD hasn’t run the deer completely out of the state yet. We decided to camp a few miles from Honey Hole, and found a location with easy in/out access to artery roads in case we needed to flee weather (this being a December hunt).
Pre-hunt festivities: The Love Shack was dropped off at our preferred campsite the previous weekend. I’m sorry to report we didn’t have a Wednesday night garage party this year. Gerfunken and Bulljeffe loaded Yukon Gold and trailer in the valley, while I loaded my truck in Flagstaff. Gerfunken took Yukon Gold up Thursday, grabbed PTBNL2 in Flagstaff, and set up camp. I had a training class in Phoenix, picked up Bulljeffe, and made it back up the rim and into camp late Thursday evening. There may have been celebratory cocktails upon arrival. No casualties reported.
Morning: Bulljeffe and PTBNL2 started by sitting in blinds on Honey Hole. They saw a few bulls in the morning, but no cows. They finished the morning with a quick hike in the surrounding area.
Gerfunken and I started by sitting on Camp Tank (the closest tank to camp), but Cold Wuss Factor set in and we decided quickly to warm back up by hiking up the ridge to the next tank.
While sitting admiring Nonagreement Tank (since we couldn’t decide what to call it at any time during the hunt) two vehicles drove by on what I thought was a road closed by the new Forest Travel Guidelines. A man and his son hopped out of the second truck and started walking to the tank. I
righteously wrongteously yelled to them that they were breaking the law. No response. Another yell down about the travel guidelines. No response. Another yell down asking if they were effing kidding me. THAT got a response. A more pleasant exchange ensued whereby they were duly informed that there were indeed hunters sitting and watching the tank.
We figured I had just busted us off this tank with my yelling, so we hiked out to another tank (Third Tank) before looping back and came back to camp over the rim to the west. Some great bedding areas on this ridge, but nothing seen.
Afternoon: Bulljeffe and PTBNL2 reassumed their position on Honey Hole, nailing two elk out of a herd at about 4:30pm. Gerfunken and I stayed up on Nonagreement Tank until last light, then quickly busted up a herd of elk well after dark between Nonagreement and Camp Tank.
Evening: We met Bulljeffe and PTBNL2 out in the field, helped them clean their elk, and got them back into camp. Pizza King showed up with, oddly enough, pizza. There was much rejoicing.
Morning: Gerfunken, Pizza King, and I started off in the drainage to the east, making our way up to the area above the eastern rim of the canyon Honey Hole is in.
We had an event up here that will be debated for years. We were definitely on the muzzle end of a single shot. From the business end, there is a definite “crack” that precedes the normal “boom” heard out in the woods. Gerfunken swears he heard something like a branch break first, which is chilling, but not corroborated by the other participants. I did hear talking from the direction of the shot afterwards, which doesn’t fit either. If they were shooting at three armed men, you’d think they would clam up. I also have to believe that if they were shooting at an elk, they’d stay quiet. So….WTF? My best guess was a shot at a coyote or squirrel or something just to check the sights on a rifle, but we’ll never know.
Needless to say, after a (very) brief discussion, we busted tail out of there. We headed for a spring listed on our maps, ran across a single young bull on the way, and took a snack break a few hundred yards from where we thought the spring was. We were at the top end of a long open draw, and closer to the spring than we figured, as we were waved off by a few hunters up on a hillside overlooking it. Once moving, we did see the spring – it has been channeled into a water tank. This is a great spot, one worth remembering for future hunts.
We continued along the high ground and ran into logging operations. We also ran across two other hunters on foot (first time this has happened in years). I can’t help but wonder if one of them was our shooter. We headed to the last tank on our morning agenda, which had good sign along the fencing but was alongside the newly graded logging road, which would be a mixed bag for hunting. We then headed to the canyon rim, and spent a fair 1/2 mile trying to find a way down. The first 50-60 feet were solid rimrock most of the way, but we finally found a chute and half walked, half glissaded down to the bottom of the canyon and to the truck.
Bulljeffe and PTBNL2 took their elk to the butcher in Flagstaff, did a load of laundry, had a hot shower, and ate lunch before returning to camp. We think they probably had sex, too. Who can blame them, with that kind of time to kill?
Afternoon: Taz arrived and set up his rig before we made it back to camp. There may have been some grumbling about his selection of my parking spot for his rig, but all’s fair in camp and war. Bulljeffe and PTBNL2 stayed in camp for the afternoon, putting out the doilies and fresh flowers.
Gerfunken, Pizza King, and I intended to sit on Honey Hole, but there were already two trucks parked on the area, so we continued down the road to find another tank to sit at. We headed right at the T intersection to a tank a mile down that road. This one is right off the road and didn’t appear to have very good sight lines, so we U-turned to a tank about a mile to the left of the intersection. At this point, it was already pretty late, so we set up a quick blind behind a fallen log and sat.
We kept hearing the sound of rock falling on the rim above us, but it wasn’t quite like the sound of hooffalls. Winter took its sweet time getting here this year, so I wondered if there were still bears turning over rocks for tasty critters. One other possibility could be the cold temperature causing mechanical fracture in the rimrock. Maybe I’m overthinking this and it was a few elk just monkeying with us.
This tank was a few hundred yards off the road, and we had parked at the top of the (closed by new guidelines) spur road to the tank. Of course, this did not stop a truck from driving past mine, and halfway down the closed road to the tank. The hunter left the truck in the middle of the road, in open sight of the tank, and started towards us. We waved every blaze orange item we had from our blind, and he got the message and left.
Evening: With a fully-staffed campsite, a handle of Jameson’s disappeared rather quickly, along with a fair percentage of our fizzy yellow beer.
Morning: One of the biggest challenges we faced in scouting and hunting this trip was correlating all our maps. The standard FS maps are based on very dated information, and road numbers and locations are not always accurate. The new travel management maps have some roads that do not exist, and the scale is completely different than the FS map. Google Earth’s road numbers are all wrong. The Garmin GPS base maps are also grossly outdated. Some of these maps show the private land interspersed in the forest, others don’t.
We were frustrated by this all on the morning hunt. Pizza King, PTBNL2, and I drove out to the nearby lookout tower road, thinking we’d walk down to Third Tank and get there at dawn. We were immediately met by “Private Property – No Trespassing” signs on a chunk of private holding that was on the map Pizza King looked at, but not the one I looked at, forcing us to walk along the property line for 1/2 mile before cutting down to the tank. Of course, the property line ended at same road we were parked on, so we could have made much better time parking further up the road. The slope we walked down was thick with bedding and sign, so we moved slowly, and hit Third Tank much later than expected. This tank is in a broad park with good visibility up three drainages. We sat at the wood’s edge for awhile. After about 30 minutes, we decided to find a good location and build a blind for future use. We then split up — PTBNL2 hiked back up and fetched the truck, while Pizza King and I dropped off the cliff line to the west and investigated one more nice tank before meeting PTBNL2 and the truck at the bottom of the hill.
Bulljeffe and Gerfunken had driven around to the area we were, and discovered that the road I thought was closed was actually open (making me feel pretty sheepish about yelling at people the first morning). They stayed up at Nonagreement Tank for a bit. I don’t know where else they went, but if they don’t update this report with their whereabouts, I’ll assume they were having sex.
Afternoon: Pizza King strangely decided that attending a Christmas party with Mrs. Pizza King was a better option than freezing his ass off on a hunting trip he had no permit for, so he departed in the Pizzamobile. Gerfunken and I drove out the nonclosed road, parked out of sight of the meadow, sat in the newly built blind on Third Tank, and saw nothing. We got back to the truck right at full dark. While the truck was warming up, two hunters came walking down the road. We offered them a ride back to their truck, which was a mile or so further on.
I’ve thought a lot about karma on elk hunts through several unsuccessful seasons. My first elk season I shot and injured a young bull. The full story is for another time; it was a very short distance shot, taken with the bull running straight at me. I tracked it as far as my skills allowed, but was unable to recover it. I know I’ve hunted the right way in the right spots since then, I just hadn’t had luck turn my way. So I’d jump at any opportunity to help someone out or otherwise pay off the bad karma that hunt left me with. Offering a couple of guys a lift was a no-brainer.
Evening: Gerfunken and I stayed by the campfire while Taz, Bulljeffe and PTBNL2 played poker and had sex in Taz’s rig. Alcohol consumption dropped precipitously on this and subsequent evenings.
Morning: Bulljeffe and I hiked west back up above Camp Tank, and sat on the ridge where Gerfunken and I busted the herd after dark the first day. We sat until the sun warmed us up a bit, enjoying a great view of the drainage below and opposite side of the ridge. After awhile, we came down and started towards Nonagreement Tank. Immediately, we ran across very fresh tracks and elk piss not quite frozen on the ground. We followed these tracks to within about 80 yards of the tank, where we paused to see if anyone was sitting on the tank. We caught a glint of sunshine off a truck window, so we backed out and started due south.
Within a few hundred yards, we scared a herd out of thick cover. We never saw the elk. We tried to circle around to get the sun and wind in our favor, and this led us to the next ridge line. We followed this around for the next 1 1/2 miles, stopping at a few points to admire the view (and hopefully spot something). We had the truck shuttled to the far western edge of the ridge, so we caught the nonclosed road again and started walking down.
After about 200 yards, a side road led to the south, and we voted 2-0 in favor of seeing if we could find the trick tank the map showed about 1/3 mile down the road. We found the tank, noted fresh tracks and broken ice in the trough tank, and decided we liked the area enough to build yet another blind. After this, we hoofed it back to the truck.
Gerfunken and PTBNL2 drove out across the west side of the unit, encountering many deer and antelope, but no elk.
Taz departed for warmer climes.
Afternoon: Bulljeffe and I went back to the trick tank and set up. After 2 1/2 hours lying prone, we started to really feel the cold. At the absolute last light, and with both of us now tired from propping up on our elbows for hours and shivering uncontrollably, we watched one elk trot over the edge of the ridge, followed by another, followed by a third. They were moving too fast to get a bead, so I focused on the trough. Before I could set up on any one elk, a whole herd seemingly materialized on the tank.
I had a very narrow window to shoot in, and our prone position narrowed it even further. If an elk freed up from the tank and walked to the side, it would walk back to the tank before I could adjust enough for a shot. There was no shooting at the trough itself, as the bodies were stacked 4 deep on either side of it. The elk at the tank would rear up and extend their forelegs almost vertical, then crash down on the ice to break it up and get to the water. To make matters worse, there was a very small spike bull running back and forth in the mix. With dusk settling rapidly, it became clear that I had no shot, so I put the rifle back on safe and we resigned ourselves to letting the elk finish up and leave before we gave our positions away. As a final insult, the herd bull, who never showed himself, started grunting to call the herd back. After several minutes, we decided it was safe to get up and move. It was a very long, dejected, cold walk back to the truck. We texted PTBNL2 and Gerfunken that we were coming in late, and with a hell of a story. They texted back that they thought their story would be better…
PTBNL2 and Gerfunken opted to go back to Honey Hole. Around 4pm, a cow came in to water. Gerfunken waited until she walked into a good position where he could shoot from his blind. When she did, he rose up to bring the scope above the blind, took a bead at about 75 yards, and fired. The cow trotted off, leaving Gerfunken too perplexed to rack another round and fire. While trying to figure out what had happened, Gerfunken noticed this on the top log of the blind:
It was dragged back to camp as a memento, but luckily it didn’t need field dressing or skinning.
(Gerfunken’s Note: I suffered a bit of “buck fever” here. While waiting, I got a little bit anxious when the cow started coming in. As with the following evening’s events, I was situated such that I didn’t have a shot to my right. I hastily made decision to move in my blind to get a better shot. The cow heard me while i was shuffling in the blind, and she paused, then turned around. So, like a rookie, I popped up slowly, brought the rifle up, and got her in the crosshairs. When I pulled the trigger, I had a good scope picture. Apparently my scope cleared the top of the blind, but the rifle barrel hadn’t. Talk about feeling like a rookie… )
Evening: We were all pretty exhausted at this point, but still amped up about the events of the day. Bed came pretty early for everyone.
Morning: Knowing now that afternoons were the best time to see elk, and after 4 days on foot in the mornings, we decided to spend the morning in the trucks and off our feet.
PTBNL2 and Gerfunken drove the west end of the unit again, altering their course somewhat from the previous day.
Bulljeffe and I drove off the rim, down the Perkinsville Road, and took a side road several miles to the flats just below the rim and west of Sycamore Canyon. The road ended at an old linesman shack and trick tank, in some of the best country AZ has to offer.
After getting back to camp, Bulljeffe drove PTBNL2 back to Flagstaff, as his kitchen pass had been revoked. By his ex. Which sucks.
Afternoon: Gerfunken and I had planned since the night before to go back up to the trick tank and bust two out of the herd up there.
I suppose it’s human nature to always play “the grass is greener”, and it’s an incredibly hard habit to break. After shooting two elk at Honey Hole, and having the opportunity at a third, we were gearing up to hunt somewhere else. After some discussion, Gerfunken and I decided that we were idiots to go anywhere else, so we headed back to Honey Hole, where quickly, and despite my best efforts, I managed to take an elk.
We settled in to the same two blinds that Bulljeffe and PTBNL2 had used on Friday. We had PTBNL2’s radios. For some reason, I couldn’t get it through my thick skull that I had the mouthpiece and earpiece upside down on the radio. I was still trying to get settled and get the radio working right when two elk strolled into the meadow. I let them come in to where I believed Gerfunken had a shot at the second, took bead on the lead elk, and dropped her on the spot. The other elk turned her butt to us immediately, making sure Gerfunken didn’t have a shot. He didn’t anyway, he had a tree on his strong side preventing him from getting the rifle all the way over. I couldn’t see him at all in his blind, so didn’t know I hadn’t given him enough lead to take a shot. When he came up on his knees, the elk bolted. Gerfunken fired at the running elk and just missed.
Evening: With another elk to clean, this night was mostly business, with three exhausted fellers at the end. Gerfunken vowed his revenge, and I’m still not sure if he meant on me or the elk.
Morning: Gerfunken took Yukon Gold down to Honey Hole, and sat on it most of the morning, only poking his head up when I drove down to appease him with hot coffee.
Bulljeffe and I broke down camp.
Afternoon: With camp wrapped up, I stayed up watching our gear while Bulljeffe drove Gerfunken down to Honey Hole. They parked where Bulljeffe could sit in the truck and watch the north end of the meadow while Gerfunken focused on the south end. At 4pm, Gerfunken shoots his elk 15 yards from the messy ground where mine was shot the previous day. Bulljeffe came to get me and the trailer, and we drove back to clean Gerfunken’s elk and get it wrapped in a tarp on the trailer for transport. We were able to field dress the elk, cut it in half, and get it up on the trailer before full dark.
Evening: We drove back to camp, attached the Love Shack, and hustled back to BW’s Garage, where we got the final elk skinned and ready for the butcher shop.
Elk to butchers, breakfast at Martanne’s, goodbyes, Bulljeffe and Gerfunken back to valley.
Notes and quotes:
This was the first hunt in a long time where we had a lot of fellow hunters on foot instead of all hunting from a vehicle.
“I thought I saw the Sta-Puft Marshmallow Man coming down the hill” — PTBNL2’s comments about Pizza King’s choice of hunting attire.
“I can’t help but notice they all still wear full camo” — observation about road hunters.
We had the best neighbors in a camp only a few hundred yards from ours. We caught them driving in from their morning hunt every day, and exchanged a lot of good will and information (without giving away our respective favorite spots).
4 for 4 on this hunt. Amazing.
Cleaning out 4 elk is no picnic.
If PTBNL2 ever signs on here to get a username, I’ll edit this accordingly.
First day back to work after Elkapalooza 2012. I am still utterly wiped out, and came to the office dressed like a lumberjack — to honor my mind, which is still out in the woods somewhere. Possibly being eaten by coyotes.
A record haul for us, we filled 4 of 4 cow elk tags. Was it the “best hunt ever”? There are too many ways to define that. Suffice to say it was the most successful; but hard to measure against trips such as the infamous U-Boat Commander Javelina Hunt From Hell 2005.
Details of trip to follow soon. Hopefully we’ll get all the pictures from everyone together and get them posted as well.