Home Forums Hunting & Shooting General Big Game A good season in Idaho and abroad....

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The big-game hunting season for 2022 has drawn to a close for me. As I write this it’s three weeks behind me in fact. The delay was primarily a function of my growing distaste for “social media”, and my role in it. I have zero involvement with Insta-Snapper Chat-Facebook-Tik-Tok-a-gram…but I do reside here on the Campfire. Like it or not, the Campfire is in fact social media.
If you haven’t read it, I highly suggest taking a few minutes and reading Matt Rinella’s opinion piece in Free Range American titled, “Unfollowing Social Media Will Make Hunting Better”. You can click on the following link to read it for yourselves….MATT RINELLA ARTICLE.

It’s been out for a year now, and has been a flashpoint for lots of discussion from guys just like you and I. I’m rarely “moved” by something at my age. At 50, I’m leaning decidedly towards being curmudgeonous and am sufficiently jaded that I rarely see/hear/read something that is truly thought-provoking. I believe Rinella’s piece is. It was compelling enough for me anyway that I had decided I wasn’t going to write up the season this year as I had in the past. I wasn’t going to be part of the “problem”.

A week ago a fellow Campfire member and good friend of mine (Greg- AH64guy) called me and asked why he hadn’t seen the story yet. I’d shared a couple of pictures with him, but nothing followed as per most seasons. I explained my rational and the link to the Rinella piece. He was intrigued, so I sent him a link and told him to get back to me when he’d read it. He called me a couple of days later and agreed it was a thought-provoking piece. He said he understood my rational but wanted to offer a counter-point. He said that right or wrong, the Campfire served as a record of events. A record that someday my son might want to be able to look back upon….a record that he might someday want to show HIS son. Greg is a clever fellow, and his manipulation had the desired effect as his words bounced around in my head for a couple of days. The final straw was when my son sent me a text two nights ago and asked, “Are you going to do a Campfire write-up this year”? I asked him if he wanted me to, and he replied that he did. Thusly my resolve was broken, which brings us to the present.

We would be hunting our usual haunts in central Idaho. Camp would consist of my son Rowdy, his best friend/roommate/hunting partner Cadon, my buddy and usual hunting partner Matt, and myself. Matt and I coached both boys in baseball and football going back to grade school, so there is a level of familiarity and history that makes evening discussions a lot of fun and riddled with inside jokes no one else would likely find funny. Our hopes were high as the opener fell on a weekend, which meant the boys could come down from college to join us the first couple of days before they headed back to class on Monday.
It was hot those first few days…like Africa hot. It took me three days to even spot my first bull, and he was many, many miles away and out of our reach. In spite of our best efforts that first weekend, it just wasn’t meant to be.

They headed back to school while Matt and I continued to (unsuccessfully) look for bulls/bucks in the days that followed. Neither was to be found through the first seven days. I have a great job that allows me the opportunity to take the entire three-week season off. I had also managed to purchase an extra, non-resident bull tag back in the summer, when visions of multiple bulls were still dancing in my head. That seemed like a laughable notion as the first week ended. On about the 8th day though, the weather turned and my fortunes turned with it. We woke up to 4-5” of snow and it was still coming down. Everyone went their separate ways that morning with high hopes. Just as we stepped out of the wall-tent, Rowdy realized his windage cap had fallen off his scope somewhere along the way. To compound the problem, neither of us could remember if we’d “zeroed” it when we finished sighting in. I gave him my .280ai and grabbed the only other rifle I have in the stable…a fast-twist 22-250 I’d recently put together with the specific idea of shooting 88 ELD-Ms. I wasn’t feeling great about the idea of shooting an elk with it, but figured it would be just fine for deer if I could find one at a reasonable range.

I’d put in about 5 miles of hiking that morning and while I was cutting some fresh tracks in the snow, I had only managed to turn up a small forked-horn and a few does. I was headed back to camp and already imagining the warmth of the wood stove and a hot lunch when some movement caught my eye on the hillside above. I grabbed the bino’s and quickly located some does. Soon enough, I caught a deer trailing and could make out that he was a decent(ish) buck. Given that we had nothing to show for a week of hunting, I didn’t take long to decide to make a run. They were about 800 yards out, but there as a lot of burnt timber between us as I started my climb. They were slowly feeding uphill and about 80 yards from going over the ridge-top when I started after them. The wind was right, but I felt like it was a race against the clock to catch up before they disappeared over the top into a thick stand of timber where I’d likely never see them again. I was completely gassed when I crested the last little finger ridge between us, but relieved to see they hadn’t gone over yet. I checked the range and “374” appeared in bright red numbers. Further than i wanted, but as close as I was gonna be able to get as a doe already had me pegged. I dropped down behind a log and concentrated on getting my breathing under control as I maneuvered for a comfortable shooting position. The buck stepped between two trees with nothing but air between us. I slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger. I was immediately met with a satisfying “THWACK”. The buck hunched up and followed the confused does for about 20 yards before stopping again. I worked the bolt and turned another round loose. Same “THWACK” came back to me, but this time the buck faltered and went down….success at last! I made my way over and with a sense of relief. Seven days of hard hunting with no yields had started to weigh on the enthusiasm in camp. Here are a couple of picture of the deer. He isn’t huge, but given the circumstances I was grateful for the opportunity.






I sent a message via InReach to all the boys letting them know what had transpired. It had started snowing hard again by then, so I was thrilled when all responded they were in camp and would start heading my way to assist with the pack out. I didn’t NEED four guys to get one deer out...but no one seemed to want to be left out of the fun and I wasn’t going to turn any help away. I went to work breaking the deer down and loading up. He was a healthy buck, and I had a hell of a time keeping my feet under me in the snow as I made my way down the hill towards the trail that would lead me back to camp.
I had only made it about a half mile when the cavalry arrived. It was approaching 2 o’clock by then, and I was damn happy to see them as my tank was running a bit empty. This is a photo of our merry band just after we linked up. Before you say it...yes, I can see my muzzle seemingly pointed at Matt's big pumpkin head while strapped across my back. I think it's mostly the camera angle because I'm usually pretty attentive to that, but I can't swear that it wasn't. The only defense I can offer is that I had already unloaded the 22-250 shortly after finding the buck fwtw. From left to right is me, Cadon, Rowdy, and Matt.





TO BE CONTINUED.....

Dave,
Glad you decided to post up your adventures, I always enjoy them and appreciate your taking us along.
Good hunting to you!

Awesome, thanks for the story and pics.

Great hunt so far! Thank you for posting it up!

Yes Frank 👊🏻 post those bull pics up brother Dave 👍

Rinella makes lots of good points, but in the end, how we represent hunting is up to each of us. I've never been one to gloat, or a braggart, or prideful—this is not without exception, but it's not typically my MO. Much of my perspective links back to a hunting ethic pieced together by a child trying to make sense of life, death and dying. Parts of which would rightly be labeled puritanical, while others are pragmatic, idealistic, and even naive. I've killed for food. I've killed because it's what I thought I was supposed to do. I've killed for tradition. I've killed for anger. I've killed for fear and I've killed for compassion. Reconciling these uses against the intuition of a child's ethics is ongoing.

His argument against killing for vanity was what resonated with me most. That and the fact that Rinella owes his platform to being a social media influencer himself. While my own internal dialogs have jostled with the themes laid out above, they haven't been burdened by compulsions toward vanity. To what I have to thank for this I'm not sure, but it's not gone unnoticed.

There will never be a single solitary voice. We each own our own experience, motives, and actions. An audience who lumps myriad together, is lost on the world.

I don't disagree with any of what you have said. I know why I hunt. I have zero issues articulating as much.

The question I was struggling with is why post my adventures to a bunch of people I'll likely never meet, or even have a personal conversation with? I initially did so simply because I LOVED reading/seeing other people's adventures...especially if they were ones I could relate to. At some point it occurred to me maybe others would find my own adventures of interest. I've developed a few VERY good friendships from this site, and it felt wrong to only be a "consumer" here on the Campfire.

Having said that, it's been my experience that if you're successful and you post pictures to that effect here you (mostly) get positive feedback. I just didn't like the feeling/wondering if I was posting my own adventures for the wrong reasons...ala the aforementioned article. I tried to be truthful in my story-telling, including posting the part about how I shot and lost a bull last year. I was ashamed/embarrassed about the incident quite honestly, but felt it was important not omit that part in an attempt to balance the scales a bit. Rinella's words echoed some of my own thoughts is all. It's not the definitive statement for all hunters, but it is worthy of thought/discussion and was the impetus behind why I wasn't planning to post anything this year. Ultimately, the pros outweighed the cons for me though, and here we are.

Dave, I’m glad you chose to share your story. I wrestled with the same thing over sharing my recent elk camp story. Partly the same reason I didn’t post a running fishing thread this past year although we fished more than ever and I couldn’t gin up the want to for a running thread on our rifle deer season like I have in the past.

One of the reasons I chose to do the elk camp thread was that, right or wrong, I feel like guys like us are regular guys doing what we’ve always done. I see legions of guys my age and younger who post everything to some form of social media and, like I said right or wrong, I get the vibe that hunting to them is just a recent fad chasing clicks or likes or whatever.

I had a couple guys decked out in the latest gear pointedly ask me how long I’d been hunting this spot this year. Not that it’s my mountain, but it rubbed me the wrong way since I’ve been there over 2 decades and dad who was with me marked his 45th trip there this year. I also ran into a couple guys who seemed a little downtrodden at their lack of success on a dream DIY trip. They said it all looked so good when they Escouted it and they’d watched a bunch of YouTube vids but it wasn’t the same in real life. Another guy I tried to help by telling him a good bowl to look in for a buck I’d seen whipped out his phone and wanted me to point to the spot on his interactive satellite map app. Maybe I’m selfish or nostalgic but the Covid boom has flooded the market with this type of guys and it’s not the hunting community that I grew up with, knew, and want to be a part of. I don’t want hunting on public or private lands to go away but I don’t like the way it seems to be headed either.

Same!

We had the buck back to camp by 5 that evening. No one felt like cooking, and everyone felt like celebrating a little so the decision was made to load up and head to town for a pizza and maybe a shower. I’d been there about 10 days at that point, and my personal hygiene was getting a bit questionable. My unit is already wildly overcrowded so it’s a shame I can’t divulge the specific details behind the pizza. What I can tell you is that a more delicious pizza has never been made in the history of pizzas across this great country. Bold statement I know, but that doesn’t make it any less true. We all ate to the point of discomfort quite honestly. One of the pizzas consumed…




When we were done destroying the last vestige of pizza, I sweet-talked a gal at the local hotel into a reduced rate for a room by way of explaining we’d only be using the shower and we'd be on our way with minimal fuss. I washed enough dirt off to grow spuds in the bottom of the shower and we were soon on the road and headed back to camp. It was nearing midnight when we pulled up to the wall-tent. It had snowed most of the day and we cut several sets of tracks driving back in. All of us were feeling optimistic about our chances the following morning. I let the boys pick where they wanted to go first, Matt second, and I took the “leftover” area. With the hurried schedule of the day before, we still hadn’t found time to check Rowdy’s rifle so once again he’d be taking my .280ai and I’d slum the 22-250 again. I didn’t feel great about the thought of shooting a 22-250 even with the heavy 88s, but it’s an area I never see elk anyway. I honestly wasn’t too concerned about crossing paths with any bulls. It IS a great area for glassing distant hills, and I thought a relaxed morning behind the spotter sounded like a good way to spend the day while the boys hopefully got on some elk up high. It was also the closest and easiest area to hunt so I’d be able to sleep in a little longer and still be there before daybreak. A win/win in my book.

I arrived at my destination about 20 minutes before daylight, and enjoyed a pleasant few minutes as the landscape before me was slowly illuminated. It was about 20 degrees that morning, but I knew it would reach the 40s as soon as the sun came out. I had just spotted a bull about three miles away and was fiddling with the zoom on the spotter when I thought I heard something behind me. I was tucked into some brush and didn’t have the best view so I rolled over on my side an did a quick scan of the hillside above and behind me….nothing. I went back to the spotter and was scanning for more elk when I heard the unmistakable sound of a rock rolling down the hill. Once again I rolled over and peeked behind me. I was more than a little surprised to see a raghorn bull quartering down the hill in my general direction. How I had missed him the first time I'll never know.

The next 15 seconds were hectic. Math isn't my strong suit, but I immediately started triangulating speed/distance and it didn’t take a rocket-scientist to figure out he was going to clear a ridge and be out of my sight in very, very short order. The good news is that he didn’t seem to have any idea I was there. I remember ranging him and seeing “275”. After that I don’t remember much else. I don’t remember throwing my pack in front of me. I don’t remember flipping up the scope caps. I don’t remember flipping off the safety, and I don’t remember squeezing the trigger. The post-shot evidence suggests all those things occurred of course. I DO remember seeing the bull suddenly change course as soon as I squeezed the trigger. He made it about 30 yards straight down before he stopped broad-side on somewhat wobbly legs. I immediately followed up with another shot and he collapsed about a second after the trigger broke.

It had all happened so suddenly and unexpectedly. I always have a script in my head of how things are going to play out, and I’ve found it almost never works out that way. I shouldn’t be surprised at such things and yet inevitably I am. As these things commonly go, he slid down until he was piled up against the thickest pocket of brush imaginable. I was a little suprised to find the 88 had punched through the bull and left a blood trail even I could follow.




Quartering him would turn into a curse-laden rant that will probably get me probation when I (hopefully) get to the pearly gates. I loaded up my pack with a hind quarter and texted the boys via InReach that I was on my way out. This marked the 8th bull I’ve taken out of the area, and by far the easiest pack. I was back to camp with the first load by noon. After a quick bite to eat Rowdy, Matt, and myself headed out for the remaining three quarters and associated cuts of meat. The boys had split up at some point, and the Cadon was still out chasing critters. Rowdy had an encounter with two “huge” bulls on the way back to camp but hadn’t quite been able to make it happen. I felt guilty that I had tagged animal number two and no one else had been lucky yet…especially given that it was pure, dumb luck the bull walked into me that morning. The boys had worked their azzes off and come up empty-handed. I truly wish it had been one of them instead of me, but sometimes its better to be lucky than good I guess.

Here are Matt and Rowdy with the rather medium-sized raghorn bull.




TO BE CONTINUED....

Dave,
Besides the fact you shoot nice critters most every year you also really take us along on your hunting adventures which is why I really enjoy reading your posts and looking at the pictures. Back when I first found the campfire we had a lot more guys posting their successful hunts each year. Back then we had guys like Sendero_man, Pat aka ScenarShooter and a bunch of others I can't remember now posting really nice deer and elk.

I mostly suck as a hunter and don't hunt near as much as I'd like so I really enjoy seeing others success. Gives me the annual hunting fix I need to get me to the next season. Seeing posts about out of state hunts also got me going to Wyoming about 12-13 years ago and I've had a lot of fun doing those trips. Without guys posting I doubt I'd of ever tried doing one of those hunts, I know thats the quandary now a days since everyone sees those posts and off they go.

Sorry I'm probably rambling a bit but I hope the guys on the campfire don't stop posting pictures, its good stuff IMHO.

I should have stated explicitly that your posts reflect your good character and align with much of my own thinking about hunting and sportsmanship. You've stood as model for story telling on here. It was my intention to encourage you so that your voice might offset the soulless noise that Rinella aims to silence. Because, I don't believe there is any silencing it and our legacy would be so much less without folks like you sharing their adventures in earnest with us.

Very kind of you to say Kingston. Much obliged.

Dave

I agree completely. At my age it's hard to not let it get depressing.

Dave,
I can't add anything to what these other gents have said but I really do enjoy real people stories and yours are some of the best.

Thanks for taking the time to pass it along.

I left Idaho more than 30 years ago.

I get vicarious pleasure from reading your experiences.

I do miss hunting in Idaho

Love reading your stories Dave…such things are some of the best the Campfire has to offer.

Brother Dave is a hellava story teller, hardcore hunter and gentleman. I for one loves folks pics, weather hunting, kids, vacations, grandkids, scenery etc. they all tell a story and are interesting.

Carry on

iddave;
Good evening to you sir, I hope the day was a good one for you and yours and this finds you all well.

Thanks for the hunting story and for the linked article as well, I appreciate both. Congratulations on the bull, the buck and the hunt as a whole.

If I may, I'll opine that I very much enjoy reading your hunting stories as they take me to a place that somewhat familiar to me often - since our BC mountains aren't too, too different, yet its different enough to make it enjoyable and the fact that family is often involved as well make it special and notable.

It's special and notable because in an ever and rapidly changing world, a family group hunting together is one of few activities that truly transcends time and in a lot of cases cultures too. Further, I'd argue that's how we all got here too by the way - our ancestors were able to hunt successfully, in all probability often as a family and thus survive to pass on their genetic information.

We or better said perhaps, I believe that we - as a society - will be successful longer if we don't entirely lose some of these tangible links to our past.

Oh, I'd also say that the story of the hunt is a vital part of that heritage too for a multitude of reasons.

Regarding the essay, we actually spend a fair bit of time in the BC Hunter Safety Course talking about what is and isn't acceptable to post on social media - mostly attempting to have the students ask that question of themselves and then set their own boundaries and guidelines rather than tell them. No different than most parenting or mentoring really in that regard.

I'm a decade past you in my curmugeonness if that's a thing, so I'm sure we've both been exposed to people who want to glorify themselves in whatever pursuit they've taken up and for sure social media allows them to do it in a manner and magnitude previously more difficult if not impossible to achieve.

I'd say there's always been those types and like as not always will be.

But there's also folks like myself who want to sit back and listen to the story - read it in this case but you take my meaning - and relive the hunt along with the teller. It's way, way deep inside me to do that and from some of the responses I'm not alone.

Anyways sir, a few thoughts from a semi-old BC redneck who enjoys a good hunting story, being made to think and then attempting to articulate a response.

All the best to you all this Christmas Season.

Dwayne

A trip with Dewayne and Dave would be a epic experience.👊🏻