Eureka!

                                                           Eureka!

“This is good, stop here.”  Bryan came to a stop and in one swift motion I was out the door, rifle in hand stepping, looking.  The low brush was only partially covered in snow and the hiking was easy.  I crossed a creek covered with tightly frozen overflow of grey and brown.  

       I had seen the group pass behind a small knob. Perfect.  The approach was the stuff of legend.  I was able to proceed undetected to the bottom of the hill.  I knew they would soon appear on the other side as I slowly crested over top.  No sooner had I jacked a shell in the chamber than one appeared...then two...then three.  Suddenly a dozen animals appeared before me traversing a hill some two hundred yards before me. 

     The midsize bull in the front turned and saw me.....shit!  Suddenly they were all moving in unison away from me.  I realized that my window of opportunity was closing.  I shouldered my rifle, aimed and pulled the trigger.  Missed.  The group moved further up the hill and then, what would turn-out to be a stroke of luck, they paused.  The one in the front presented broadside and I carefully squeezed off another round. BOOM!

     It was almost noon and it was 10 below zero.  The sun was just cresting over the hill and the hoar frost clinging to the bushes and the top of the snowpack was standing at attention as I watched Bryan slowly rumble up the brushy hill before me.  He maneuvered his Polaris Ranger up the hill towards me. It was outfitted with tracks and was able to crawl over the bumpy tussocks making way towards me. He waved as he passed by only to turn around at the top of the hill.  Eventually he pulled up right next to me.  The cow caribou I shot was laying on the snow not five feet from the tailgate of Bryans Ranger.  Hunting success!

     That’s right, we were rolling-with what is commonly known as a side-by-side ATV.   Although not my style by nature, I had a hard time refuting the values of this lovely beast as the hunt progressed.  

     As previously confessed, it was cold. Hunting trips in sub-zero temps are not for sissies.....unless they happen to be sitting inside a heated cab most of the day.  Heated cabs, as it turns out, are pretty fun things and might actually be okay for sissies afterall.

     

Bryan chillin atop Monument.

     

Driving Mr. Daisy.  Mr. Daisy hangin loose.