king' s outdoor world - Index

king' s outdoor world - Hunting Illustrated Magazine Dec/Jan 2008 - Coyote Crazy! - Index

on a set of antlers (hence the name
“Badonkadonk”). I couldn’t get
steady and was afraid to rush the shot.
The 650 mil dot kept drifting on and
off the target, and the rest just wasn’t
solid. The bull then trotted over the
ridge top and another bull stopped in
his place. This bull was a 360-class
6x6 and as I attempted to get a steady
shot on him, Thomas told me to hold
up because another bigger bull was
coming up out of the trees to the top of
the ridge. Thomas recognized this bull
as a bull named “Morris” (because he
seemed to have nine lives). Thomas
had hunted this bull earlier in the
archery season and had judged him to
be a 390-class bull. Both of those bulls
soon blew out and over the ridge top
without a shot fi red. I felt as if I was
going to vomit with the excitement
and disappointment hitting me all at
once. All I could do was shake my
head and apologize to Thomas for not
taking the shot. Thomas reassured me
that it was better not to rush the shot
and completely blow the bulls out
of the area, especially at 650 yards.
Needless to say, the ride home was
sure a long one. Even though I never
pulled the trigger, the opportunity to
see such trophies during one hunt was
priceless. Thomas was able to record
some good footage of the bulls, but it
sure hurt to watch.
The next morning, Thomas,
Mike and I walked back up to the
Salad Bowl hoping that the bulls
hadn’t blown out of the area too hard.
Once on top, we glassed over the
Salad Bowl but nothing was showing
itself yet. Mike walked up ahead of
us to get a different angle and soon
signaled over to us. We slowly moved
up to Mike’s location. The bull was
a heavy-horned, unbroken, 350-class
bull. I began to take my backpack off
and prepared to take the shot. Thomas
told me to get up and grab my stuff so
we could continue with our search, he
reassured me that if we put the effort
in, we would eventually fi nd one of
the other bulls and, if not, this bull
would be here as a backup.
The plan for the evening
hunt was to hike to the top of the
highest peak and glass down into a
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couple of draws where the big bulls
might be timbered up. Evening came
and Thomas soon spotted Morris.
Morris was feeding on a north facing
slope just above the timberline about
a half a mile away. Thomas and I
were going to make our way down
the backside of a ridge to a point that
would put us approximately 500 yards
from where the bull was feeding.
Mike would remain behind to keep an
eye on the bull’s movement. Thomas
and I moved out at a quick pace as we
would soon be losing daylight. Just
as we reached the spot to start up to
our vantage point, military aircraft
operating in the area decided to break
the sound barrier and let out several
loud sonic booms. The noise spooked
Morris into the thick trees and he used
up yet another one of his nine lives.
We walked back up to where Mike
was and then walked the three miles
back to the truck in the dark.
By now, I was just as sore
as I was excited. Day four found us
back on the same ridge glassing down
into the thick trees that Morris had
disappeared into the night before. For
the fi rst few hours we didn’t glass a
single big bull. I was starting to get a