Last year (1995) I had mentioned to Steve (Best Friend) that we should try hunting Antelope with a bow. He looked at me crazy and said we never would get one. That summer we chased them around for days and we learned a lot. I learned that Steve could get in front of them but buck fever took over from there.
This year found changes in our lives and location. I graduated from Boise State University with my wife. We headed to New York City so the wife could go to graduate school while I tried to make a run at Advertising. Steve stayed in Boise and the distance had showed us how lucky we had been the previous 3 years. It is funny how something like fishing and hunting can create such great memories.
With a year under our belts we knew a little something about stalking and waterhole hunting for Pronghorns. They are wary animals and if you flinch at the wrong time, hours of waiting and crawling will have been for naught. Steve had found a great waterhole for us to hunt. We did not have a blind, because we had not learned their value yet. So we crouched beneath sagebrush and the hot afternoon sun.
August 28, 1996
Day one found antelope coming to the ridge and looking down on their favorite watering hole. A few bucks spooked, but a coupled visited Steves hole. Every once in a while I would hear the whooshÖÖ.. of an arrow. Smiling I realized that he had missed. This happened twice in a couple hours. Then came my turn! A nice buck made his was towards me, he passed at 30 yards, I drew, he caught my movement and I missed! He carefully went his way. A few other goats hung up just outside our ranges. What an experience though!
August 29, 1996
Day two found us crouching in our usual positions, this day was slower and at lunch time Steve came over and said his back was hurting and he could not crouch anymore. So we headed for lunch and took a drive, a looong drive. That evening Steve went to the rimrocks and watched to see if I could connect. Just as the sun was going down a Doe came in, and she gave me a perfect shot, but unfortunately I thought she was at 30 yards later I found out she was at 38 which is why I just missed low.
August 30, 1996
Steves back is hurting and we are contemplating leaving early. I am out for 4 days. Frustrated and tired I do not want to leave since New York is a long way from the middle of no where and we have come so close to fulfilling our goal. Steve and I take a drive to see if we can find any other goats. We always have a great time scouting out new areas. This was no different. We had a few blown stalks but it was fun. Late that afternoon found us back at the water hole. Steve decided to sit at the hole and I went to the rimrocks. After about an hour I heard something above me? What could that be? I readied my bow and as I turned a Antelope was making his way, checking the water hole every so often, down the rimrocks he came and at 20 yards I was at full draw. He never knew what hit him!
Relieved, Steve said, "Lets get outta here! My back cant take anymore!" We cleaned and packed up. As we drove out I took a deep breath and remembered how much I love the high desert and the sage. Soon I knew I would be back in New York racing with the other city rats. It is times like these that I am grateful I am a hunter because I know that hunting is so much more than the harvest.
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