Like most hunters today, we know that applying for premium tags can take years or even decades. This story started 17 years earlier when I first applied for Oregon’s Hart Mountain archery antelope.
We were visiting my in-laws on Father's Day weekend when I checked my phone for emails. I had one from the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife that said the draw results were out. I knew that I was still a couple years from drawing the three tags I had been applying for, but I always apply anyway knowing that there are only two or three others with the same or more points than me. After I put in my name and my hunter/angler number, my point totals came up - Elk 17, Deer 17, Antelope 0. After seeing that and thinking that they had screwed something up, I proceeded forward to see the words “Antelope - Hart Mountain Archery - Successful.” What a great Father's Day present! My son was down on the dock fishing and he could hear me screaming, “Oh my gosh!” over and over.
After calling a few of my friends who hunt Oregon, the most important call that I made was to Huntin' Fool. I’ve been a member since 2003 and this was my first premium tag, so I wasn’t quite sure where to start. They were extremely helpful and gave me a list of previous tag holders. I then contacted the refuge, spoke to the refuge manager, and got the list of rules and regulations for hunting on a National Wildlife Refuge. These rules really came into play later in my hunt. The next call was to the refuge biologist who proceeded to tell me that there had never been a better year to draw this tag. They had great snow pack last winter and just came out of a 15-year drought, which meant great horn growth. He also said that I’d have to pass up a bunch of smaller bucks to get to the big ones. What a great problem to have!
During my research, I also met a great guy on Bowsite. It just so happened that my new friend, Larry, was going to be at Hart Mountain a week before my hunt. He volunteered to put up a ground blind for me at one of the waterholes I had found on Google Earth.
Finally, August was here and I made the 12-hour trip south with my travel trailer. I planned on getting a good camping spot and doing a little scouting. Upon arrival, I was seeing antelope all over the place and water everywhere. I’m not talking waterholes and ponds, but huge lakes and swollen creeks. I met up with Larry, and he showed me around and took me to my blind. After shoring up my blind and putting up a trail camera, we looked around a bit more and then had a great taco dinner made by his wife and granddaughter. It was like going on my first guided hunt.
The eight-day season was still a week away, so I went home to finish up a few projects in my taxidermy shop. Five days later, my 11-year-old son, Garric, and I returned the day before the opener. The opening day alarm went off at 3 a.m., and after a quick breakfast, we were off and in the blind by 5:00. Garric lasted about 45 minutes before he was curled up on the floor and fast asleep. After the sun came up, I could see antelope off to my left about a mile away. They were feeding in a shallow lake bed and definitely not interested in coming to my little spring. We did, however, see mule deer, sage grouse, kangaroo rats, and a badger before the long first day was over. The next day was more of the same, so I decided to move to another waterhole in the middle of day three. On day four, we finally had an antelope doe and fawn come in, but the bucks would hold up about 200 yards out. Being on a wildlife refuge, we weren’t able to cut sage and brush in the blind, so we stuck out like a sore thumb. This was the first rule that I think messed up our hunt.
After five and a half days of daylight to dark in the blind and still only seeing the doe and fawn, I told Garric that this had turned into a spot and stalk hunt and we’d have to cover a lot of ground over the next two days. We went back to the trailer, had a big breakfast, and loaded up the quad with enough supplies to hunt until dark. Later that afternoon, we spotted a buck with 14 does on the west side of a narrow ridge. We were able to get around them where I could parallel them on the backside. I had Garric go up the road about 1,000 yards and watch through the binos.
About 200 yards into my stalk, a doe came over the top and busted m,e taking the herd with her. I continued up the ridge to see if they were still in a stalking position. When I got close to the top, I could see black heart-shaped horns through the tall grass. I tried to get a range, but my rangefinder couldn’t get a reading because of the grass. He was looking right over the top of me and at my son off in the distance. After a couple minutes of this, he finally turned his head away from me to look for his girls. I took two steps up the hill, came to full draw, and guessed him at 40 yards. I put my 30-yard pin high on his back since that was all that I could see and slowly squeezed my release. My arrow arched beautifully over the crest of the hill, and I heard the distinctive “Thwack!” and saw him take off. I got up the hill just in time to see him bed down after only going about 30 yards. I backed off a bit to wait and let him expire. After 20 minutes, his head was still up, so I decided to make another stalk and try and get another arrow in him. I got to 25 yards and he stood up. It was then that I saw that he was hit low and back. I again came to full draw, and with my top pin high on his shoulder, I let another arrow fly. This time, I could see the arrow hit low and left again.
Another rule for hunting a National Refuge is that you aren’t allowed to target shoot. I had heard of a couple guys who were ticketed, so I left my target at home and hadn’t shot my bow all week. After five days of my bow riding on the front of the quad going back and forth to my blind, it was obvious that my sights were off. By this time, Garric had seen the multiple hits and was working his way up to me. I met him halfway and told him to run back to camp and get my bow box and some more arrows. We were going to have to resight my bow and get back on the buck. He had been gone for about 20 minutes when I saw the dust from a truck coming down the road about a mile out. I dropped everything and sprinted through the sagebrush, hitting the road just in time to flag him down. I recognized him as another antelope hunter who was camped in the same area as us. After I caught my breath, I explained what had happened and asked him if I could borrow his bow. He said “You bet. Let's go get your buck.”
We made our way up the hill and got to 20 yards when my buck jumped up in the tall sage and slightly quartered away from me. Thank goodness this gentleman and I were about the same size with a similar draw length. I put the 20-yard pin tight behind his shoulder, and the arrow found its mark through the top of his heart. He took three steps and tipped over, ending the longest hour of my life. My new friend and I sat there for about 10 minutes before Garric made his way up the hill. As soon as I saw my son’s little face, I lost it. All of the emotions of the week and my last three unsuccessful archery antelope hunts came to the surface. He jumped into my arms and we shared a very special moment together. This little boy of 11 years old was my rock. He picked me up when I was down and remained positive throughout the whole hunt. Finally, we walked over to see “our” Hart Mountain antelope. After a ton of pictures and packing the meat and cape down to the quad, we got back to camp in time to barbecue some antelope tenderloin for dinner.
The next morning, we slept in a little and had an antelope steak and egg breakfast and then we went to pull the blinds. We also took a day to enjoy Hart Mountain and all of its beauty, looked for Indian artifacts, hiked in to see the petroglyphs at Petroglyph Lake, and even did some fly fishing in Guano Creek.
I’ve been hunting for 40 years, and this will go down as the greatest week of hunting of my life. Hopefully in another 20 years Garric and I can return with an antelope tag in his pocket.
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