Hirshey's Hunting Season 2016

[ghosthunter]

Nice

[hirshey]

After such a fruitful elk season, Jeff and I were pretty spooled up for our annual backcountry hunt for the Washington general season. We were fortunate enough to be gaining some rather friendly and fit company in the form of my fella, Derrick. With the impending “worst storm in Western Washington history” about to loose itself on the coastal areas, Derrick and I tossed the dice on our normal haunt being as fruitful and relatively snow free as ever. We decided to beat the storm in so as to have dry ground for the tipi. It was the plan for Jeff to join us the following day.
Well, since it was still baseball season, I’d like to say tie goes to the runner, but we definitely didn’t tie the storm… the hike that normally takes us 4 hours took closer to 6, and by the time the tipi was erected there was 10 inches of snow on the ground and it was accumulating quickly. Derrick was so sweaty from the hike that he almost slipped into hypothermia (he even sat down in the snow and it became difficult to communicate with him(!)). This hunt was not starting out exactly how we’d envisioned, to say the least.
After getting Derrick into a sleeping bag and some sustenance, he became a lot more responsive and we finished duties such as constructing the stove, gathering firewood, and setting up shop. We went to bed that evening with the worst of the storm still looming in the distance. The wind howled, the snow persisted, and hunting in the morning wasn’t looking ideal.

[hirshey]

We woke the next morning to still air and low hanging clouds. Derrick and I discussed the potential for hunting, but both agreed it was more important to get a solid camp set up with ample wood if we were truly going to make this high elevation hunting camp function over the next set of days. Jeff arrived late in the afternoon, and we all shared laughs and an incredulousness for just how much snow we were dealing with… the forecast for 6-10 inches had certainly been incorrect, and they were calling for more to come in the night. We tucked in for the evening with hopes that the precipitation was waning.

[hirshey]

Snow!

[X-Force]

Awesome... keep it coming.

[hirshey]

Unfortunately, the earth had different plans for us, and we awoke to an even more impressive winter wonderland… we made an attempt at the ridgeline summit just to see what we were dealing with, but Jeff was the only person to make it to the top… Derrick and I turned around when we recognized it truly wasn’t happening for us this season, and Jeff committed to the ascent purely out of stubbornness; there was over FOUR FEET where paths had been clear the year prior. Jeff arrived back at camp hours later, and we broke down camp and made a huge push back to the trailhead to reconfigure.

[predatorpro]

Wow! Sounds like a great time so far! I'm definately jealous!I never had time to go elk hunting this year...it was depressing! Lol

[hirshey]

Over the next 3 or 4 days, we crowded into the front country with the rest of Washington hunters trying to find a nook or cranny in my old haunts that didn't seem to be too pressured. We were not very successful in finding space completely our own, but we did have opportunities. Jeff had the option to take an immature 3x3 and let him walk, and was rewarded with an exciting encounter with a large cougar that jumped out of a big ponderosa at dusk on his way back to the pickup that evening. It gave him a profound respect for just how quickly those animals move, as he had no opportunity for a shot on that animal. The same evening, I spied a large 4x4 moving through a lightly timbered saddle but simply did not have the daylight to close the distance. We both agreed that while it was fun seeing those animals, the stress of having to continually modify hunt plans around other bright orange vests was not worth the investment of our energy, and we sought out one of my last little honey holes for our final day of hunting.

[hirshey]

The last area I had in mind was no stranger to my boot tracks... in fact, this location yielded me the "Men??? We don't need no stinkin' men!!!" buck my mother and I hiked out to the harvest moon a few years back. The only challenge with this particular area is that it was much more closed than the majority of my preferred hunting locations, and I will be the first to confess I make a fairly terrible still hunter. We still were excited to give it a go, and made a good hunting plan for the morning; I was to head up a small sub-ridge while Derrick and Jeff used a closed road to gain the ridgeline... we'd spend all day working towards each other, and hike out together (hopefully with heavier packs) later that evening.

As we went our separate ways, I felt an odd anticipation on the morning; I had a strong sense I was going to get into deer today.

[hirshey]

The game trails kept meandering, splitting, and slowly gaining me access to the ridgeline, but that little voice told me to sidehill around on my current path. As I did, a small sub-drainage was becoming exposed that simply looked like a place deer should exist. I paused, backtracked, and snuck up to a small rock outcropping to just sit and observe for a bit. After about 15 minutes and no noise or movement, I made the decision to gain another 50 feet of hillside so as to open myself up to a small shooting lane across the small seep in the hillside. As I made the effort to stand an unseen doe blew, and 30 feet below me and concealed by the slope and a large fallen pine tree a large, wide, elbowed 4x4 sprang to his feet and disappeared into the brush near the seep... he had been laying RIGHT below me the entire time! 

[hirshey]

In my limited experience with blown still hunting situations, these mule deer typically do not stick around, so you can imagine my shock when I continued up the hillside to expose that small shooting lane and the buck was still there! I unshouldered my rifle, sat over my knees and steadied for a shot. I could hear the does exiting downhill, but the buck was standing mostly broadside facing uphill. I started to squeeze the trigger, and right as I knew that Kimber was about to kick, the buck wheeled around to follow the does. I tried to release the pressure off of the trigger, but as this all happened within fragments of time, I was unsuccessful and the recoil of the rifle and resounding boom was released on the forest. I either hit him poorly, or I had missed entirely... I'd never hoped so strongly for a miss in my life, because I did NOT feel good about that bullet being loosed from the rifle.

[hirshey]

I spent the next 4 hours picking over his location with a fine toothed comb looking for any evidence of blood, hair, or distress. His tracks followed the does for significant distance with no evidence of an injury, and I played the situation over in my head on repeat like a child with their favorite movie. The situation, his stance, his movements and my reaction to them all pointed to a clean miss. With my crosshairs right behind his shoulder, and his left shoulder downhill turn, if I would have hit him, it should have been in the shoulder which would have meant blood from a flesh wound in the least. I was fairly positive I missed him, but Derrick and Jeff hiked over to aid me in my confirmation; I had missed a bruiser! It was a humbling and good experience in all honesty, and one I'm glad I persisted through.

[lokidog]

I look forward to more of the story tomorrow.  I love the bull elk pics, especially the one with only the left side showing.   

[hirshey]

That was the last of Jeff's hunting time, but there were a few days left in the season. After hiking our backcountry camp in and out of the woods in such short order, and putting in fairly long days, we were without question a little beat. With rainy weather and tired bones, we took one day of rest.

The next day we went back to my honey hole to seek out that big boy once again. We made the same stalk up the hillside to no avail... the little seep and surrounding area was empty. One relief is that I didn't hear magpies or ravens. We hunted that area until late afternoon before hitting the overgrown road and heading back towards the car, and that's when we found him... a buck someone else had harvested most likely the day prior; skull plated, and butchered. I have friends that are meat cutters, and they refuse to be classified as butchers, so I use this term in the most disappointing of fashions. Whether this had been the buck I had been pursuing or an entirely different animal, it had been a beautiful mature deer that had been severely underutilized. The backstraps were hacked and only partially taken, the animal hadn't been opened in any fashion, confirming the tenderloins were still inside, the full neck meat was untouched, and only the front shoulders appeared to have been taken in earnest. I felt the animal for temp, and it was cold. Evidence of scavengers finding it was present in scats and eaten flesh. I had never felt so guilty for taking a day off of hunting... that animal deserved better! 

Although that was a disappointing end to my season, I came out the other side humbled and with an even greater resolve to respect and cherish the animals I myself harvest. I also couldn't wait to get into the backcountry of Idaho where other humans wouldn't be a factor in my enjoyment of the day. One week of work, and I'd be on my way!

[hirshey]

Cold days trekking up high in WA