I think for me, a successful public land, DIY hunt is the ultimate accomplishment. Nobody has an advantage over you and it mostly comes down to your skills and how hard you want to work for it to be successful. The animals that I've shot on public land are the ones I'm the most proud of. Dumping out a pile of corn and then having a trail cam that is wirelessly sending you pictures of deer all day is an absolute joke of an excuse for hunting. That requires basically zero skill and ANYBODY can do that.
Just curious what weapon of choice and optics you use while hunting?
When I was young I thought if I went out west hunting I would never come back. When I made my first trip at age 30 I knew without a doubt that would have been the case. The first couple trips out spent more time riding to see what was over the next ridge and experienced some things that will never be forgotten. Watching as inexperienced riders with you close their eyes and hold onto the saddle horn as you lead them across a drop off down 500 feet the outside stirrup hangs over, hoping the three year old horse you are riding is a good and quiet as you thought before coming out, riding down along side a stream thru the shale as snow falls so heavy it builds on the hat of the fella riding in front of you. Waking, laying there contemplating getting out of a warm bed roll and stirring coals to revive a fire to warm coffee while you saddle horses listening to the crunch of snow and hay being eaten in the silence of the dark smelling the horses and the wood smoke.........
Riding in silence thru the darkness up a trail you try to remember from the year before, the horse reaching back to nuzzle your foot as you pause from climbing switchbacks and crossing streams reflecting the moon light shimmering in the current. Dropping friends along the way in clearings leading a string of their horses further up the mountain to a far meadow you remember, having pictured over and over in your mind all summer a monster bull stepping out from behind the dead fall on the other side like a ghost out of the darkness. Sitting for seemingly hours in the cold then hearing a chirp and watching as a herd of elk glide thru the dark timber behind you in the half light of dawn, smelling them, felling the excitement and adrenaline waiting for the bull........only to watch a spike pass at 20 yards, going back to waiting, beginning to wonder if it actually happened or if it was just a dream of grey ghosts.......
Sitting in the darkness waiting for the light of dawn only to see grizzly tracks for the first time ever surrounding where you sit in the fresh snow as it is falling attracted by the elk carcass you did not know was there, waiting once again in another clearing, another morning walking back to the horses to find mountain lion tracks on top of yours and the dead fall he jumped up on watching you 40 yards away as you waited for an elk, another time another mountain watching a boar grizzly shuffle across a clearing 60 yards away as you tighten the cinch on your horse hoping as he stops to sniff the air of the breeze blowing on the back of your neck he does not take a liking to horse flesh, later the same day as you eat a sandwich taking a break in the warm afternoon sun watching over a saddle crossing where a herd of elk had passed that morning seeing the eyes of a wolf that looks up from the meadow it is crossing following the elk to find the source of the cow call you softy blew to attract his attention look almost right thru you......as if he is saying ..why are you here in my mountains....all tell you just maybe you are not the king of the mountain and only a visitor there.
Wading thru snow waist deep crossing the top of a bowl above the tree line to come in on a pair of bulls you glassed since sun up bedded down in a small pocket of timber, waiting for hours wet and cold knowing they have to come out into a clearing and give you a shot seeing the first glimpse of antlers as they do..........tracking elk thru the blackest blow down timber only to smell them and know you are in the middle of them and watch as they begin popping up all around you...hearing the shot knowing your friend dropped the bull that was with them and suddenly a cow stands up 10 yards away giving you a shot....digging thru a snow drift over hang to pop out like a gopher atop a ridge above the tree line that shows a valley stretching below full of elk track, the next day riding a bull elk down that same mountain side like a sled as it cuts your legs out from under you as you are dragging it to where a horse can get to, riding out a bronc that had an elk antler jab him in the flank down thru black timber to come to a rest at the bottom of a ravine so steep you had to hold onto the horses tail to get out of, pulling into camp and talking with the fella packing up what was left of his pickup box trailer topper that a grizzly tore apart to get to his elk while he tried to sleep 10 feet away in the topper of the pickup he was pulling it with, his fingers still white from gripping his rifle for 6 hours.......
Riding for two days with a lonesome moose following every where you go on horse, riding back to camp in the dark second guessing your horse on which trail to take learning he knows more than you, retrieving lost friends that rode down into a camp 16 miles away you have to drive 100 miles to get to meeting the fella that found them and he is your preachers nephew that was attacked by a grizzly and survived realizing sitting in a wall tent having a steak and a beer by a warm stove with people you had never met that in that vast rugged beautiful wilderness it is still a small world yet big enough to lose yourself in...literally.
Sitting all alone on the side of a mountain at night where you have ridden 30 miles to get to carrying everything you and the friends you are meeting will need for the next 5 days on the pack horses behind you smelling the smoke, holding a hot cup of coffee, hearing the crackling of the fire, watching the stars, listening to the wind through tall pines watching as the horses hobbled near by comforted by the fire and your voice ears perk up to a noise back in the timber, reaching to pull a rifle a bit closer wondering if your friends would find you if you just keep riding when the sun comes up seeing what lies over the next ridge.........
Life, I sometimes wonder if I made the right choice back 30 some years ago, but then I watch my sons as they track a deer they shot with their bow over a small pile of corn they have watched for 4 years grow into a dandy deer each year discussing the trail cam pics to see how big we think he has grown this year, I listen to them tell stories of weekend duck and goose hunts with their friends reminiscing about the trips over teachers convention we made to Buffalo Lodge to hunt ducks at a friends, I walk beside them thru cat tails trying to flush the dark rooster we know is in there from the birds they raised and laugh as they miss and the old man drops him at 70 yards, or watch as they master a dying rabbit call and squeak a coyote to 10 yards or tip gophers over at 100 yards with their grandpas open sight Marlin lever 22......and I know I did.
Hunting is what we make of it, where we can, when we can, not to be judged, only cherished.....Why do I hunt out west??.......the west yet holds memories for my sons and I......
