Had a Margaret tag last year,although I did put meat in the freezer it was not what I had hoped for.I scouted the unit earlier and was getting into some nice bulls.Then the opener came
.Every tag holder there must have brought atleast four of their buddies with em,the Schultz Creek area was a mad house more people there than I'ld seen in many general hunt units with all the spotters and what not.On top of that there were bow cutters everywhere and helocopters flying making all kinds of racket.So I was forced to hunt lower elevations,all timber younger than the 1980 eruption without any clear cut.
Opening weekend I turned down shots on two different 3point bulls holding out for something bigger.
I was camped in Kidd Valley asuming I would have acces through the 1900 or 2500 gates,monday morning I was turned around and told the only acces allowed would be through the 2900 gate,10 miles up the hyw from camp.I was also informed by the volunteers maning the gate that I would have to be back out by 5pm each night considering where I was hunting in there that ment I had to end my hunt by 3-3:30 each evening in order to make it back out.I would get on some nice big lone bull tracks but couldn't afford the time to pursue them untill dark,then having to haul ass back the gate to keep from being locked in where I wasn't suposed to be.
Aside from all that,my lifelong hunting partner,my father,passed away the previous summer,so camping all alone sorta put a damper on my mood and depresion was sinking in.
Thursday morning I made the decision that the next legal bull I had a shot at was filling my freezer and I was going home even though I still had 4 more days in my hunt.
Thursday afternoon I ended up taking a measly spike since my tag did read "any bull" and I already convinced myself I was going home.
Although it was "ONLY" a spike it was still one of my most memorable kills and will live in my memory for many years.
Thursday afternoon I decided to get onto a herd that had busted me the day before,knowing there was atleast one bull in the herd, I had heard his antlers ticking the limbs the day before.I started out through the young timber and headed uphill in the direction they had gone on wedsnesday.As I got further up the hill I could hear the cow/calf talk going on so I went into sneak mode,hitting all fours and crawling the last hundred yards or so up hill to keep from being busted again.I crawled over the berm of an old skid road and rolled against an old red rot log.I had a cow grazing infront of me about 30yards out,so I laid in wait as I could hear the rest of the herd just above the skid road in the timber.Wind in my face all conditions perfect,there I lay clad in blaze orange,as more cows/calves moved out to the road to eat.Then I heard the antlers ticking again and thought to myself this is it.After what seemed like an hour,actualy only about 20min,out stepped my monster freezer filler.The source of all the antler noise was a measly 16inch spike.
I laid there and watched as the cows fed towards me getting closer and closer,all the time keeping my eye on the spike,who at this moment I had no plans of taking.The spike wandered about the heard prodding all the cows in the butt with that trophy rack of his,quite the ladies man.The lead cow was in my face by now and looking me in the eye 3ft away.She knew something wasn't right but couldn't figure it out,she would stare me down then go back to munching,I could hear her breath she was so damn close,I could have reached out and slapped her on the nose.All this time the ladies man kept getting closer as well,untill he walked up and around to the other side of the lead cow.At this point he was less than 8ft away and I try'd to keep my rifle pointed at him without alarming the den mother who was breathing in my face.The spike was about to step behind the berm to my left and would have been safe from the big bad hunter.Thats when it happened,I honestly don't even realy remember squeezing it off,the 7mag let out a powerful roar.The lead cow in my face jumped atleast 6ft in the air straight up and managed to do a 180 turn in mid flight,she had no idea what the hell just happened.The herd was gone,all but that spike,he just stood there dumbfounded not knowing what happened.He took one staggered step forward laid down,and drew his last gurgling breath.
He hit the ground precisely at 3:30pm,my designated hang it up and haul ass to the gate time.By the time I had him quarted packed laoded etc. I managed to hit the gate at 8pm all the while thinking oh great now I'm gonna get locked in.I get to the gate and the damn thing is wide open without a soul around
.
I broke camp the next morning and was heading home when Mr Foster our local hard assed WDFW officer pulled me over to see what I had in back.His coment "couldn't you find anything bigger ?" kinda pissed me off to say the least.Sure I killed a spike with what should have been a trophy tag,but that little spike euro mounted above my fire place will always be a trophy in my mind.
To top things off as well as holding a Margaret rifle bull tag last year,I also had a multiple season elk tag,I notched the whole damn season on that lil spike.Late muzzle loader season rolls around,last day,and who shows up in my back yard but a nice 4point bull I had been watching early muzzle season,but passed on because I had a margaret tag burning a hole in my pocket.
