Pulling the trigger doesn't always make a great hunt
Last November was a transitional point in my adult life.
In early November, I fully retired from working for a living. For those of you that know me personally, you know that I spent over 30 years working as a forester for the U. S. Forest Service.
That was a great job for a fellow that loves the out-of-doors. During my Forest Service employment, I spent many years doing real estate work for the Forest Service, such as land purchases, land exchanges and appraising land.
I came to the Flathead National Forest as project leader for the Flathead Wild and Scenic River system, acquiring river front land and conservation easements to protect those rivers.
Because of the real estate appraisal skills learned during my Forest Service career and because of the strong work ethic inherited from my mom and dad, at the age of 55, I was not ready to sit around and loaf the rest of my life.
So, I opened a rural real estate appraisal business.
My wife and I essentially lived on my Forest Service retirement checks. The income from real estate appraising allowed me to finance hunting and fishing trips to Alaska, Canada, Africa and all over the United States.
I also invested in recreational forest land, lakeshore and a farm.
Other investments included Montana necessities such as fishing boats and guns.
But the years were passing by, so I decided to fully retire last November.
On a Wednesday I delivered my last appraisal report for a conservation easement in the Lower Flathead Valley. The next day, I headed to my farm in Eastern Montana for two weeks of hunting. Wow, lucky me!
For the first few days of that hunt, I was alone at my farm. In coming days, my son, wife,Missoula friends and a friend from Minnesota would join in this hunt.
But for the first few days, I had the luxury of being alone. I could do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.
On day one of my real retirement, I decided to explore and hunt the head of some coulees for a fat doe. At the crack of dawn, I left my pickup on the open prairie and hiked a half mile east to the head of a large coulee system. Then, I hunted down those coulees until they got deeper and deeper.
Finally, I came to where two or three coulees joined. There was a small side ridge with a rocky outcropping. This was a good vantage point to relax and enjoy a prairie morning hunt.
No deer were in sight. Then I scanned the coulees with my binoculars. Still no deer.
So, I broke out my coffee thermos and enjoyed a relaxing cup of prairie coffee. Retirement life was good! No, very good!
Then I noticed what looked like a deer about 200 yards down coulee.
A check with my binoculars showed it to be a nice fork horn mule deer buck. I moved the binoculars upslope and there was another small buck.
They were peacefully grazing. The deer rut was in full swing, so I thought it was strange they were feeding, rather than searching for a doe.
Then I got my answer.
Between me and those bucks, a doe fed around the nose of a small side ridge. Right behind her was a large buck. That was the answer, the big buck would not let the
smaller bucks near his sweetheart!
Soon two fawns fed into view. All the deer kept feeding toward me until they were all only 100 feet away. I sat still, so they never knew I was there.
Here were six legal deer and me with several deer tags in my backpack. It would have been easy to shoot any of those deer, but I just wasn’t in the mood to process a deer this morning.
So, I just sat there, watching those deer, enjoying a sunny morning on the prairie, having a cup of coffee and enjoying my retirement.
Finally, I got up and spooked the deer.
On the hike back to the truck, I jumped six more deer, but they never gave me chance to shoot.
This is what hunting in Montana is about. Enjoying the wildlife and wild landscapes on our 35 million acres of public land, where you are as free as the wind to wander and hunt.
Later in this hunt, I notched my A tag with a dandy mule deer buck and notched three antlerless tags.
But, as the first day hunt indicated, hunting can be great without firing a shot.