Buck Fever

We are entering fall and winter and all the seasons that they bring. Holiday season. Football season. And to my husband...the most important season of all, hunting season.

Now when I think of hunting I think of getting up around 8 and driving around in Glen's heated suburban for several hours, drinking beer, sipping on Cranastia, laughing loud and telling windy stories (usually in an Austrailian accent). If we get to shoot at something, great. If not, no big deal.

Zach on the other hand is not your typical hunter. Nope. Every hunt, whether it's for coyotes or a trophy deer, is serious business. It's up before dawn, no sudden movements, no talking (and if you absolutely must say something it has to be in the quietest whisper possible) and no suburban. Yep, you have to hoof it if you hunt with him. And starting in October he does not wear deodorant because animals can smell it way before you see them. And we're not talking about just the morning of hunts. He doesn't wear it for six months straight! Luckily he wasn't dealt the kind of sweat glands I was.

So he left me after only a few short weeks of being married to go chase elk in Colorado. The thought of not showering for over a week, sleeping in the cold, and getting up before the sun was enough for me to stay home (that and I wasn't invited).

He left being my sweet baby faced hubby...

and came home a rugged mountain man.

Anyway, he and four of his relatives headed out in hopes of that thirdy point buck, I mean bull. After breaking down and waiting for a replacement pickup they finally made it. I think they were secretly hoping to get snowed in up there because they packed food for an army and enough horses to trade with the locals.



After hunting a few days with no luck, Aaron and Zach got on fresh tracks of an elk.

Before long they found some fresh scat. For those of you who don't know, scat is animal poop. I asked how he knew that the 'scat' was fresh. Apparently you rub it to see if it is warm in the middle. That is dedication...They followed the tracks for over 4 hours and finally came to a spot where they got a glimpse of it. Aaron frantically whispered to Zach to shoot it. He pulled the trigger and the rest is history.

I can only imagine what the scene was like after that. Both of them jumping up and down and whispering "Sweet" and "You nailed him!" Maybe a big hug and some tears.

Anyway, it was almost dark and they still had to ride all the way back to camp. Aaron got the horses while Zach gutted his new trophy, a 6x6 bull. By this time it's snowing and they have their head lamps on. That's when they realized that Zach's saddle pack, which contained his tag, had fell off when Aaron was leading the horses back. No tag on dead game equals big fines. They quickly tried to find the pack before it was snow covered. They searched for quite awhile and then fortunately found it near a creek that they had jumped earlier. It was dark now and they couldn't pack the thing out of there with only two horses. So they hung it up in a tree and rode home getting to camp around 11:00 that night. The others were about to send out the search parties.

The next morning they took three extra pack horses and rode four or five hours to retrieve the elk. It took a good hour just to get all the meat and rack secured to the horses. Zach was leading Zippy who had the head and antlers (horns?) attached to his back.

Zippy was not in the least bit thrilled to have that thing strapped to him. He started bucking and racing forward trying to get away. Zach dallied up to try and get control. His Dad was yelling, "whatever you do, don't let go of your dally." That was about the time that Zippy raced behind the horse Zach was riding and the rope slapped Chief's rump. Chief went to bucking. At that point, Zach had to make a critical decision. Let go of his dally which held his prize or risk an even bigger wreck by hanging on to it. He let it go and Zippy went racing through a meadow, heading straight for a very wooded area. He got to the edge and stopped, knowing there was no way he could go into those trees by himself.

The rest of the trip was smooth sailing after that.

Looks like we'll be eating elk all winter.

I didn't realize I married such an elkoholic!