With the change in my current lifestyle it is safe to assume that this fall would be my last season for hunting. With that in mind I was determined to fill the freezer one last time, to prove my worth as a provider for the family.
Time for Plan B (or was it Plan C?).
Plan B incorporated the assistance of Dickidoo's friend who was hunting up the way who would be in communication with us via a two way radio if he happened to see anything moving in our direction. There's nothing that makes one lose the urgency for relieving one's self in the woods than the thought of some guy with high powered binoculars up the hill behind you and some guy with his son scouting around in front of you. I had to go soooooo bad that I thought I would pop, but there was no way I was baring my full moons with that much traffic all around!
Day one was what I call a 'Murphy's Hunt', when anything that could go wrong did go wrong. Day two could only get better, right?
Not so much.... There was no fresh sign anywhere, except for bear scat. And let me tell you something about hunting in Colorado. Colorado is in the Rocky Mountains. 'Mountain' is another word for 'up'. In Colorado everything is up. Even down is up. To get to the top of a mountain you must go up. To get back down you still must go up. And no matter how up you are, there is still upper and then it's all uphill from there!
It was almost sundown when Dickidoo spotted the antlers among the scrub oaks. He followed their progress patiently through his binoculars. I sat by impatiently, waiting for a glimpse of the big bull Dickidoo promised was coming. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the bull crested the hill.
It was a decent sized elk although not so much wide as tall... I admitted aloud. My future ex gave me an 'are you fricken kidding?' look. He uses that look on me a lot although I'm not exactly sure why.
Steve jumped into gear and began a new plan of action. The bull had disappeared behind a dam with 3 possible exit routes. We moved into place... and waited. And waited. And waited.
It was almost sun down. I was running out of time so we began to run as quietly as we could through the cactus minefield to peer over the dam and possibly spot the bull. Just as I got to the base of the dam Dickidoo hissed for me to look to the left. I turned right and only saw my husband's excited face. 'Left, left!' he hissed again, running over. I peered over his shoulder and he grabbed me by mine.
'Your other left!' he growled, physically turning me to my left, and then I saw it standing just 100 yards away. It was a picture perfect pose, broadside and motionless. Not so much wide as tall. I dropped to one knee, took aim and squeezed the trigger.