Rocky Mountain High - Accept the Challenge

 

 

               Once again the month of August kick started the hunting season of first’s for my buddy’s and I; our first time hunting elk and our first time living out of our backpacks in the high country of the Rocky Mountains, but it was an experience that tests an outdoorsman in way he has never been tested before.  This type of hunt strips you down to the bare essentials of life: food, water and shelter. I believe there are certain things hard wired into every man, things like the desire to go on an adventure and the desire to be the hero; while all three of us got to go on one exciting adventure, it was only Tony that was the hero, but the triumph was definitely enjoyed by the entire trio.  I assume most people not knowledgeable about elk hunting would wonder why we were so elated over a young bull and two empty tags, well in Colorado I was told there is a 7 % success rate among archery elk hunters, we hit pay dirt on our first try, I know hunter’s in their 40’s and 50’s with multiple elk hunts under their belt’s with no more success than us. It was a journey that started back when I was 12 year’s old still sharing a room with my older brother and  talking dream hunt's at night before falling asleep and reading outdoor magazines with stories of elk hunt’s in God’s Country. I thought that was something maybe I would get to experience when I was in my 30’s and could afford a guide, but as luck would have it, I would meet a great friend in college that grew up in Denver and might be to elk hunting what Aaron Rodgers is to football, ha ha. But seriously, my old buddy Danny Clum knows the mountains and he knows elk like a Wisconsin farmer knows his cattle. When I told him I was going to come out and scout some land I had received  a tip on from a friend that might hold elk, he offered to take me out and show me one of the places he has found success.  I was blown away by that sort of generosity, fishermen don’t give away their best fishing holes and hunters don’t show others their honey holes. Danny took a day off work and spent a couple day’s in the mountains with me not only showing me elk and where to hunt them, but how to hunt them and more importantly how to survive in the mountains; I didn’t know how to load my pack, set up my tent, filter water or make dinner until my scouting trip with him. I really felt a thousand times more at ease after he took me out and taught me the ropes a bit because on this hunt I wasn’t just responsible for my own well-being, but a couple of other young hunter’s as well, I always feel pressure to make sure my compadres have a successful hunt, but this time it was about more, in the Mountains five hours from any help, it was also about survival! Danny provided me with skills and experiences I will carry with me going forward until I hang up my bow permanently.  I also am grateful Danny helped me get great deals on the best gear at his shop rmsgear.com, even if you’re a non-hunter, but enjoy camping; they have the best equipment and friendliest service.

            After a 16 hour drive out, a 20 minute four-wheeler ride up and 2 hour hike in we found our campsite, although not before we ran into a local couple and their attractive daughter that were sightseeing on this mountain and she stole Tony’s heart ha ha, we had them take our picture as we set out on our trek and tried to refocus Tony on hunting elk and not college girls; Jesse on the other hand was mesmerized by the view and the vastness of the wilderness, he did a great job of reminding us on this hunt “it’s the little things in life that mean the most” .  Daybreak found us sneaking along a creek bed through a valley Danny told me we should get on some elk in. After making it only a quarter mile and to our disappointment hearing no bugles Tony suggested we set up on the meadow in front of us and call; Jesse and Tony took their positions on either side of the meadow 50 yards in front of me and I started cow calling, to my dismay I thought I heard a bugle, couldn’t be I thought to myself because I stink at calling and no way am I lucky enough to call in elk on my first try ever. I called a second time and I heard the bugle again, I thought for sure a fellow hunter was playing a cruel trick on me, just then a calf elk ran into the meadow between Jesse and Tony, Game on! A few minutes later the bugling bull came along the side of the mountain in and out of my view, but in plain sight for Jesse, just in too much brush for a shot, Jesse watched the show as he bugled to my calls, raked his antlers on brush and just stood around being enormous to a few whitetail hunters from Wisconsin. After him and I talking back and forth and my trying to play “hard to get” cow elk style he was 30 yards from Jesse and I and only needed to take a few more steps to present the shot we traveled so far for; Just about that time I heard a loud “whack” and turned around to see Tony’s bull run out of the meadow, I turned back around as our bull figured out the game and slowly walked back up the mountain and bugled no more. After getting up to Jesse, he whispered to me that Tony had made a great shot on that bull and it was expiring within 60 yards of us, I was ecstatic, twenty minutes into the hunt and we got a  bull! Tony and Jesse noticed how I was the most excited out of us three; I thought of all the money I put into this hunt and more importantly the time away from my family, business and friends it just all seemed worth it at that moment. What a great memory with friends. After the butchering process and an afternoon hunt a thunderstorm rolled into our mountain range and little did we know was about to dump rain, wind and hail on us for the next 24 hours. I spent the night dry in my tent and woke the next morning thinking we would just wait out the storm before packing out the meat, but Jesse told me him and Tony had a much different night in a tent that leaked horribly and were wet and half frozen. Finally after truly realizing just how bad their tent leaked and how wet and serious their situation was I agreed we needed to get this meat out and get these guys to dryer land. We loaded up the meat and I asked Tony if I could carry out the head and horns of his bull for him to assure I had the most weight, it was only logical as I have 30 more pounds of mass on my frame than Tony does and I spent all summer hiking Gibraltar rock in my 60lb weighted vest preparing for that moment. Jesse reminded me of the hell I was in for; I told him we always accept the challenge! On our rainy, miserable hike out, I tripped and fell once, but mostly felt great, like my training was paying off, even in the rain and cold all three of us kept our spirits up. I will admit the only time I started feeling frustrated was when marble size hail started pelting me in the head. I remember looking at Tony as he was soaking wet and winded and got a great laugh as he sarcastically said out loud “go elk hunting they say, it will be fun!” Dry clothes and a warm meal never felt as good as they did that night; we packed back into our campsite the next morning and grabbed our bows to continue the hunt; I had an opportunity to take a cow that day, but we were all a little spent at that point and were not ready to put in that much effort again for a cow. Of course the rest of the hunt no shots were presented and I regret not bringing home more meat. Elk burgers are a delicacy in my eyes. We hiked out feeling like we conquered a huge challenge learning to navigate in the mountains and had a much clearer picture of how to hunt elk and what skills we need to improve on for the future. Reliable gear, better cardio training and more skillful calling are a must for next time and there will be a next time.

 

 

                                                   "Rise and Grind"

                                 Jesse had the excitement of a three year old at the start of this adventure!

                                      Tony's future ex Mother in - law took our photo

                        Tony's Bull, but I was the happiest SOB in CO that day!!!

                           We filtered water 2-3 times a day out of fresh spring fed streams. Ice Cold!

                   This day Jesse noted his water tasted like Bar burgers, Funyons and Mountain Dew. Haha

       Lunchtime was spent cleaning up and boiling water to enjoy Mountain House freeze dried meals.

                                           Left to Right: Jesse, Tony and Aaron getting cozy!

                                       This has been a tradition for us now for about 4 years. Its always good for some laughs as you can see in the picture above we got one hotel room on the trip out with two double beds for 5 guys, ha ha. Carl and I shared a bed and the other three guys awkwardly enough seemed excited about spending the night "nuts-to-butts" haha something we will be joking about for years to come. Pheasant hunting is a lot more fun and social than bowhunting due to the fact that you don't hunt these animals by yourself nor is being silent a neccessity. Its just a great time getting some friends and family together to enjoy the hunt, each others company and some solid dog work. This hunt is especially important to me since my hunting dog Honey is nearing 12 years old now, which is pretty ancient for a hunting dog and I never know when the last time I will get to take her hunting will be. I geneally don't consider myself a dog/pet person, I don't like most other dogs because they lack respect, manners and discipline that an animal should be taught by its owner,but Honey is a rare breed. I get nostalgic and choked up a bit just thinking about my dog's time coming to an end. I got her when I was 15 raised her up from a pup and thats why she is so bonded to me I think. In a room full of 20 people she only cares what I am doing, the rest of my family pampers her, while I make sure she is not forgetting her discipline and obedience skills and yet she always prefers being at my side over anyone else's, I guess dogs, like people crave discipline and love and respect anyone that cares enough for them to give it to them. Ever since she was a tiny pup she would follow me everywhere even if it meant jumping into the lake before she was strong enough to swim for very long, she has always wanted to be by my side! I could not be more grateful for the amazing memories she has provided my hunting buddy's and I with while waterfowl and pheasant hunting over her, she has also been outstanding at protecting my parents home when my Mother is home alone. Now in her old age I do not have the stomach to discipline the sweet old dog anymore when she steals food from the table, she listens so well and is so patient with my nephew that is two when he decides to harass her I know we will never have a dog like this one again I hope she hangs on a while longer, but here is to giving her the appreciation and respect she deserves in my eyes!

2013 Gun Deer Season

If you look closely at the pic below you can see the cut on my nose from the evening's celebration

2013 bow season was pretty rough and I logged a lot of hours in a tree trying to turn it around, by gun season I was feeling it was pretty hopeless. Thankfully I have a lot of unselfish hunting buddy's and Tony is one of them with some outstanding property. This years weather for opening day was around zero degree's when you factor in the windchill, it was bonechilling and the only positive to that was the buck's needed food after rutting. Tony had his farm scouted out well and invited me out to hunt an entire herd that was feeding on his property each evening. It was a cold afternoon sit, but wow, it was worth it. Twenty minutes before dark the floodgates of deer opened up and I was seeing does by the dozens and numerous tall racks piling out into the corn field in front of me, it was a spectacle like no other, it was something from a hunting show; the cold weather was forcing these deer off of the no hunting preserve they called home to pack on some fat for the winter. It didn't take long and I had two nice bucks a couple hundred yards in front of me feeding. I decided to take this beautiful 8pt. The shot wasn't the challenging part, but locating a down deer in a harvested cornfield proved to be a ten minute long agonizing challenge. I knew I knocked the deer down and my buddy's were enjoying watching me frantically try to find my trophy that somehow seemed to dissapear. Once I found him the gratification of a long grueling season and the perserverance it took to finally be successful made this deer extra special, even better my cousin Carl called shortly after to let me know he just shot a great buck too! It was definitely going to be a big celebration that evening, its rare that two of us in the family take nice deer on the same day, very rare. We got back to the farm set our deer out for pictures and rallied all of our buddy's for the First Annual Deer Camp festivities. That night was wild and I don't think there have been many times our group of friends has had more fun than that evening, the drinking and talking stupid was at an all time high, we even inspired my cousin Jeff to get back into Gun hunting after being strictly a Boone and Crocket Bow slayer the last few years. You will notice in one of the pictures you can see a cut across the bridge of my nose, I probably had it coming, but lets just say empty cans flying at your face can be sharp (thanks Jesse)! It was a night for the ages among this hunting group and the pictures are here to prove it. I am already excited for the Second Annual Deer Camp, if your smart and like to have a great time, you will be there.

Jesse's 2013 bowkill

2013 will go down as the most challenging season of my hunting career. Low deer numbers, due to a pathetic attempt for a management plan for the whitetail deer herd from our out of touch buddy's in the Wisconsin DNR for the last 10-15 years is starting to take its toll. I am pretty sure my two year old nephew could make more intelligent herd control decisions than these boneheads. Let's introduce wolves and not control their numbers, lets allow the brainless, toothless, hillbilly hunters in Wisconsin to shoot an unlimited amount of does with guns and give them extra long seasons to do it; great! I really wish my fellow hunters could have a little more vision for the future than some of them seem to, but I digress. Jesse is attending college 3 hours from home and we knew there would not be much time for him to hunt, we chose the last weekend in October and first weekend in November as the times we would get together and bowhunt hard. The first weekend was a little slow, the weather was not good and we had some newer hunters on the property that were just getting their feet wet in bowhunting that put quite a bit of early season pressure on our stands, causing the deer to stear clear of our past hot spots some. I knew we had to find some fresh stand sites to hunt to have any hope, so the first weekend the only productive thing we did was mainly hang two new stands. We were very excited about the new stands and the first day back up for the second weekend I put Jesse in what I figured would be the hotspot, the morning started out with a little more deer activity, but it slowed around mid morning. At 11:15 am I pulled my phone out to text Jesse and see if he was having better luck than me. 15 minutes and no response from him, then I felt a buzz in my pocket; Jesse's text " I just shot one" I almost jumped out of my stand I was so excited for him. It was my main priority to get him a buck, I had a little more time to hunt than him and I have taken more bucks, I was just hoping the deer would cooperate with him in his short window to hunt. I called Jesse and quickly got the story, apparently about 11am he was stretching his arms and knocked his bow off the hanger 18 feet to the ground, ha! He climbed down picked it up and got back in the stand and within ten minutes had a nice buck cruising down the ridge from him, he let out a grunt and the buck came charging in to 7 yards! Apparently the fall didn't affect his bow's accuracy at all because he stoned this deer, it went maybe 50 yards before crashing, thats getting to be the usual for Jesse, I hope I don't jinx him, but as I have stated before he is really a crackshot during clutch times while bowhunting and thats what makes a great hunter, controlling the buckfever when it matters most. Jesse expressed some frustration this fall while in Nevada, that he doesn't have the size of trophy's on his wall yet that he would prefer, I tried reminding him that he is doing pretty well for a 19 year old and the trophy's will come. I went out that evening in the other new stand we hung the week before and grunted in a beautiful 8pt about the size of Jesse's buck here to within 10 yards. I regret now not taking that deer and doubling up with Jesse, that would have made the day even more special. Also, that was really the last nice deer I saw the rest of the season from my stand as I stated before it got extremely slow and I learned the value of having fresh stand sites once the rut comes around, unfortunately other hunters actions are not something within my control. There is always hope that next season will be even better, but with hunting pressure up and the WI DNR wildlife bioligists intelligence down, my hope is pretty weak. Nonetheless, the time spent in our deer camp in Richland Center away from it all will be just as enjoyable regardless, the companionship of hunting is hard to replace or explain to someone who has never experienced it.

Jeffrey the Giant Slayer

I heard a wise man once say “I believe in luck, I find the harder I work, the luckier I get” After harvesting two 170 class bucks with archery equipment in two years some people who did not understand the preparation that went into those hunts  said my cousin Jeff Karl’s was lucky. This accomplishment might not even seem worth noting, if you’re a hunting celebrity, spending time on guided hunts or own your own property to manage intensely, but when you’re a small business owner regularly working 60 + hours a week and spending your free time knocking on doors to gain access to small woodlots that just might have what you’re looking for its something to relish.  Jeff appears as just your average weekend warrior, hunter when you first meet him, but strike up a conversation with him and maybe get lucky enough to be invited to tag along with him as he prepares a stand site for the opener and you will learn the system we have developed over the years and find out it’s not a complex secret at all it simply involves a little research, some hard work and most importantly obsessive attention to detail, discipline and perseverance.

The most important and obvious rule when hunting high pressure bucks is scent control, this is where I feel Jeff really separate’s himself from the pretty good bow hunters. Every tiny detail is of extreme importance, the vehicle he drives is never allowed to have an air freshener hanging in it, and each article of clothing including his pack is washed in scent free detergent and stored in a scent sealed bag, rubber boots are a must, dressing in the field in the freezing cold is no more optional than buying a hunting license, human breath is  a huge red flag to a wise old bucks nose and must be covered, all of this adds up to Jeff being able to honestly say he has never been winded by any downwind deer since adopting these methods, he no longer is worried about scent, just making a perfect shot.

The first Boone and Crocket buck Jeff took in 2012, was shot using our method of getting as close to the deer sanctuary as possible and waiting for the big boys to make a mistake and leave their safe haven. Any hardcore bow hunter knows a place they would give their best trophy on the wall to hunt, but the landowner for one reason or another does not allow hunting and the deer know it, you drive by and see the big one’s feeding without a care in the world, the mature bucks are not nocturnal, it’s almost like they don’t realize hunting even exists, you dream about the perfect hunts you would have on this land, but you sadly know it’s never going to happen. This is where a lot of guys give up, but we are just warming up; we figure out the names of every adjoining landowner to this sanctuary and begin the process of knocking on doors and introducing ourselves offering up free labor and making it a point that we do not care at all about gun hunting and won’t be around during this time we only care to chase their deer with a stick and string. That gives the bow hunter an edge over a gun hunter most landowners gun hunt or have family members and friends that do, bow hunters are smaller in numbers and less noticeable or invasive; if done correctly we can tread lightly and to a busy landowner almost be non-existent.  Once access is granted to the second or third best option - type land in the area that you know holds a crusher or two it becomes important to get the stands hung in early summer and stay out of that area until the rut, trail cameras to us are not necessary in these places and scent is left behind installing and checking them. We always ask each other “do you want a picture of them alive or do you want a picture of them with your hands wrapped around their horns?” After all, we already know for a fact the big one’s are there we don’t need more proof we have faith. Also, entering and exiting before the rut in our experience only alerts doe’s to your presence and makes the land you hunt a less appealing place for them to live; since the bucks we are after probably don’t call this land home outside the rut, we are banking on one of these does coming into estrous and attracting the buck off the sanctuary right into our hands, we want those does feeling safe and sound around our tree stands and our presence not felt until there is love in the air. This tactic played out perfectly for Jeff on the eve of the first cold snap in late October, I was on my way home from a South Dakota pheasant hunt when I received a text from him, I knew immediately something was up since he never sends text messages. It simply stated “when will you be home to help me track?” We went out the next morning and found the massive and perfect five by five 75 yards from the stand, no trail camera pictures of this buck that we ever knew of, never shined him before, but I still scoff when people say it was luck. At the Wisconsin Deer & Turkey Classic it officially grossed 174 6/8 and netted 172 1/8, first “Booner” in the books for him.

The second 170 class buck of Jeff’s career involved a slightly different tactic, but more of the same basic attention to detail; the land the hunt took place on was only a three acre woodlot surrounded by CRP grass, corn and soybean fields in a heavily pressured area, Jeff’s edge was a man made waterhole as close to the thickest part of the woods as possible, these deer now had food, water and security all in very close proximity; something Marc Anthony (the master of all whitetail bow hunters) calls the 200 hundred yard rule. Jeff bought a special black flash camera he rarely monitored and when he did check the camera, it was in full scent free camo, since as I stated before he feels infared and normal flash cameras alert the big bucks to your presence and intentions for them. For three years he watched this buck grow and drink from his waterhole almost exclusively at night, but as the years went by he seemed to get a little more comfortable coming in closer and closer to dusk, until Friday September 27^th, 2013 I glassed the soybean field 40 yards from his waterhole and from 800 yards could see the giant body and rack, I quickly called Jeff to let him know it was game-on this weekend.

 

Perserverance

For the three years Jeff hunted this spot less than 10% of his sits involved even seeing a deer. Saturday was terrible weather, but Sunday was a bluebird day, too hot I thought, but Jeff went hunting it took him 40 minutes of stalking slowly just to make it the 200 hundred yards through the bean field to his stand and was finally rewarded for his perseverance, I received that rare text again “I just shot him!” I read that and could not help, but crack a giant smile; Jeff and I spoke all summer long about how if he could take this buck and make it two 170 class bucks in less than a years’ time it would be very special. We tracked this buck  into the standing corn and the trail he made running the life out of himself looked like someone drove a pickup through the field knocking down all the corn, at the end of the trail was a massive horned and bodied buck that weighed 258lbs field dressed later that day! The 5 ½ year old tanker was well fed, his brow tines were unbelievably long and the entire rack was just heavy. I was sore for days after another cousin of ours and I helped him drag it out and load it in the truck, it was a rare and special moment to share as a family that won’t soon be forgotten. As ecstatic as we were about the size of the horns on these bucks that’s not what gives us the most gratification anymore, rather we think the size of the trophy equals the amount of effort put into the hunt any serious DIY bow hunter will probably agree with us.

I think people will call a successful hunter like Jeff lucky sometimes possibly due to jealousy, I don’t think seeing a successful person is something to be jealous of, but to be motivated by; If Jeff can harvest giant bucks anyone can do it (sorry buddy, haha). Most importantly it just takes discipline. “Remember when you see a man at the top of the mountain, he didn’t just fall there” – Anonymous.

 

 

 

 

 



Nevada Jackpot

                                                   Antelope cruising past our set-ups at 30 yards

                                                 Jesse and I after a straight up the mountain drag

                                             Jesse with his first bow kill muley

                                          Uncle Kelly, Jesse and Tony (war paint)

                                            Cliff in the background my buck fell off of

                                            Beautiful sunrise and sunsets

                                           Jesse locating my buck and plotting my stalk

 This summer was not a typical one, spent waiting for fall to come to dust off the bow and arrows; we booked an early August hunt last spring for the Nevada High country Mule deer and with the anticipation of a challenging hunt in rough country, I set out to get my body in shape and stretch my affective range with the bow. Jogging was out of the question with my ankle and I really cannot say I am sad about that haha. I was fortunate to have a buddy back from college to wrestle with I think that helped my legs a lot, soon I knew conditioning wouldn't be a factor and I shot my bow until I was tired of it day in and day out for months on end, trying to make the correct form for a consistent shot as natural as breathing. Its always good going into a hunt with complete confidence in your abilities, its far from guaranteeing success, but it definitely tips the odds in your favor. Our guide on this hunt was outstanding from having all of the camp materials ready for us to plenty of deer located he made things easy, his positive attitude was motivating and most importantly he helped me give Jesse a hard time all day, everyday; I really cannot say enough good things about Kelly, just a neat, good Christian guy that became like family to us in 5 days, hence the moniker "Uncle Kelly" I believe he got an education on how three young guys talk and he was not spared the constant ribbing everyone in the group took in good fun. Thanks to his pre scouting for us we were glassing bucks from the first glimpse of daylight, but for these flatlanders learning how to stalk them and hunt affectively was foreign territory to us. The First afternoon we hiked into the roughest country this area had to offer at 10,000 feet of elevation with no deer to really focus on and just wandered about exhausting ourselves with nothing to show for the effort, except rattle snake sightings. I think it was mostly for our ego's to prove no terrain or mountain could break our spirit. "When I was young, I observed nine out of ten things I did were failures. So I did ten times more work." This has always been my favorite quote and it definitely was our mantra on this hunt. Each day we learned a little more, adapted and innovated a little more, closing the gap between the embarrassment to all mountain bow hunters we started out as, towards the skilled and successful hunters we are still striving to be. It was not by coincidence or chance that each day we got a little closer on our stalks to the game we were hunting and possibly even some that were hunting us. Tony, had a Mountain Lion sneak within 15 yards of him before they locked eye's and he almost had to kill it in self defense. Jesse took a buck on the second to last day of the hunt and the last morning of our stay he located a nice buck for me to ambush, he did a great job putting a strategy together for me to belly crawl within range, the stalk was made interesting as every sage bush I crawled past was checked for Rattlers, once I arrived at the spot Jesse chose for my shooting vantage point only the smaller buck would stand up and cooperate for a shot, I could have waited for the better buck to stand and most likely had a chance to take him, but I chose not to be greedy since it was the last day. My first shot at 56 yards was not where I wanted it, the buck bounded down the hill and stopped, giving me one last shot at roughly 80 yards, I would like to say all my practice paid off and it was all skill that my arrow found its mark, but I'm sure I proved again luck trumps skill, either way it was a shot to remember and the best part is Jesse got to witness the stalk, shot and my deer expiring; As any extreme bow hunter can attest the elation of hearing your arrow hit the target and knowing you have been successful after all the hard work and dedication you put in really leaves you speechless, but I told Jesse when he got to me for the retrieval job, there was no one else in the world I would rather have with with me at that time; I think us three on this trip are perfect hunting companion's in the sense that we want success for each other more than we want it for ourselves', Tony told us he was so nervous watching through the bino's as Jesse and I tried to ambush some buck's it was worse than if he had been hunting them himself, we had more laugh's on this hunt and great memories than any other I can ever remember. That's what hunting is all about to me spending time with the people your closest with, that you don't get to see enough because of how busy our lives get, its about the memories whether or not you come home with horns and that's why I write this blog, so someday when I am to old to walk or wheel myself into the outdoors to hunt I can read through these blogs and reminisce about how blessed I was to have hunted in the beautiful places, with the  people that meant so much to me. At the end of the week we came away with two bucks, (Zeman passed on the nicest one we had in bow range on the second day,) and Tony had a 15 yard heart stopping encounter with a Mountain Lion, we made a new friend and have a great new place to return to. Life is good.

North Dakota Mule Deer Misery

                                     They had to cut my left boot off, so I came home with one boot and a shed antler..... not a real good trophy there.

Waiting to go into surgery after they popped my ankle back in place

 

 

 

The 2012 season was suppossed to end with a nice relaxing hunt in the middle of nowhere North Dakota with some good friends that work too much finally getting some time to hunt together. Instead I drove 14 hours to hunt one day and spend the next few in a hospital out there. Deano and I got on some bucks right away the first morning and with a few close calls on one decent 4x4 and two nice 5x5's we had high hopes for the second day even though I found a horn from a good buck that had already shed his rack for the year; that is until we saw a Porcupine up a tree on our drive out and I decided it would be a good idea to climb up the tree and shake it out. When the limb shook the porcupine towards my face I decided it was a good idea to launch myself straight back out of the tree, I didn't think I was very high up, but I landed wrong on my left ankle and when I hit the ground I felt a tight pain in my ankle and looked down to see my boot hanging towards the left and back and I was facing straight ahead! Lucky for me Deano had some experience as a paramedic and did a great job getting me to the truck and out of the wilderness to meet the ambulance safely. Once in the ambulance it was an 80 mile drive to the nearest hospital, the time that passed from when I broke and dislocated my ankle til they got me to the surgery room, were made more bearable due to my experiences with wrestling, that sport teaches you how to deal with discomfort and pain and control your mind and thoughts to make it more maneageable; Once I hit the ground I panicked thinking of how much my stupidity would affect my business and my friends hunt, also knowing how many hours I was from the nearest hospital and that I was in for a long torturous night, I also thought about how much I took for granted being able to live such an active and hustle all the time lifestyle, and that was about to change for a while, but hopefully not permanently. I just tried to focus on breaking the trip down into small victory's, like getting from the dirt path road to the gravel road, then from the gravel road to the highway and into the ambulance, then to the interstate and finally to the hospital. I was very thankful to everyone that saved my ass/ankle that night; situations like this show the true character of your friends you surround yourself with, I owe a couple guys more than I will be able to repay anytime soon. I had to spend three days in the hospital after they did surgery to put a screw through my ankle to repair the tendons I tore out and a metal rod to heal up the break on my fibula. The bad luck just continued as my buddy's truck broke down on the way to the hospital to pick me up, another guy in camps bow and release malfunctioned on him and another friend of ours missed a nice buck at 18 yards. After all of this I thought it was time to call an end to the 2012 season. This doesn't mean I am giving up on this Mule deer hunt on this ranch in North Dakota, this is my second season going home empty handed and these branch horned ba$tard$ are getting to be a real pain in my ankle, I think it just got personal. Hopefully I draw next year, because I will go out there focused on steering clear of heights and porcupines and finally filling my tag.

Special thanks to St Joe's hospital staff in Dickinson, North Dakota. Also, Deano and Alex for sticking with me and pulling me out of the middle of nowhwere to safety. Hunting is suppossed to be an adventure and in that sense I got my moneys worth.

Nick