2011 Early Bow Season: Part 2

After returning to work for another week, I planned another quick trip to get a couple more days of bow hunting in before the season ended.  I planned to hunt near one of my favorite fly fishing spots, Canyon Creek.  If the deer were not cooperating, maybe I could entice a trout up to a dry fly.  I left early Monday morning and had to return to work Wednesday, so it would be a quick overnight trip.  As I was driving the last 1/2 mile stretch into the canyon, a velvet fork-horn Mulie buck jumped the road right in front of my truck.  The canyon road is steep with few pull outs, so I hastily continued the last 1/2 mile and set up camp.  After quickly throwing up my tent and chucking my bags into it, I climbed a ridge near the ravine the fork-horn had bounded in to.  I found a high vantage point and picked apart the small canyon below with my binoculars, looking for any sign of the little buck.  I glassed for a couple of hours without spotting the buck or any more deer. I climbed down from my vantage point and drove towards Canyon Creek to look around.  I parked near a familiar spot at the creek and started hiking up the west side of the canyon.  The Rodeo-Chediski fire had burned much of the area a few years before and now clearings with new growth are interlaced within strips of old growth.  I hugged the edges of the clearings, remaining in the shadows as much as possible.  At each little saddle I stopped and glassed hoping to spot a buck bedded down, escaping the warm mid day sun.  After hiking for a couple of hours I reached the top of the mountain and found a nice point to view the surroundings from.  I sat and started checking the hills and clearings below me with my binoculars.  It wasn't long before I spotted a small herd of about a dozen elk grazing just below me.  I followed their lead and ate my unrecognizably smashed sandwich. I glassed for a while longer then decided to move to the other side of the mountain. From the top of the mountain I could see a water hole just at the edge of a clearing below.  As I checked out the meadow with my binos, a loud, throaty bugle echoed through the valley.  I looked across to the next ridge and saw a huge bull elk.  The bull bugled once again as I admired his massive set of antlers though my binoculars.  Another distant bull responded half heartily to the big boys bugle.  I watched and listened to the bull for about an hour and decided to stick around and see if any deer would come towards the waterhole.  As I was working my way closer to the waterhole, I heard a cow elk call.  I stopped and heard the elk calling and moving closer.  I knew the elk were probably heading towards the water, so I got down wind of where I thought they might come through.  As I ducked behind some brush, a cow elk cautiously walked out to the waterhole.  Two feisty fawns came trotting into the waterhole after an undetectable "all-clear" sign from Momma elk.  I watched the elk graze and play until it was time to meander back to camp.   My father and brother-in-law, Tony, met me at camp.  They planned on fishing Canyon Creek while I hunted and I would join them on the water if time permitted.  I love sitting fireside with my family, my dad in particular.  It brings back memories of camping trips long since past.  My dad and I would inevitably talk about fantasy hunting and fly fishing trips or about how the new gear is awesome but with an un-awesome price tag.  As is usually the case, I was beat down from hiking uphill all day and it didn't take me long to drift off to sleep that night. I rose just before the sun the next morning and went back to the canyon side I hunted the evening before.  As I crept through the tall ponderosas I scanned the dark forest around me.  I heard small twigs break ahead of me and a quiet foot fall.  I raised my binoculars and caught sight of a line of elk walking down the mountain side with a nice 5x5 bull bringing up the tail end.  I quietly enjoyed watching the elk make their way to the bedding grounds.  I crested the top of the mountain about an hour and half later and spent the morning watching elk move through the hills and glassing the surrounding gullies.  No deer decided to show themselves, though I'm sure there were a few in the area.  I climbed out and met Dad and Tony for lunch.  Dad and Tony were heading back home after lunch and a little more fly fishing.  I would hunt the rest of the day and head home that evening.  I decided to hike a trail to the Southwest of where we had camped.  I packed up camp so I wouldn't have to mess with it after hiking out.  As I started  hiking in I immediately spotted a doe mule deer.  The doe was alone, so I slowly moved on. I didn't see anymore deer but thoroughly enjoyed my hike through the quiet, cool forest. During the drive home, I wished I didn't have to return to the bonds of the cities daily grind.  The beautiful thing about the outdoors is that I always return home with great memories, usually a cool story or two, and always a longing to return as soon as possible.  Now I long for November, when I can once again scrub the stress of the city off  my sleeves as I squeeze between the trees and shrubs of our wild Arizona.

Hunt Video Journal

2011 Early Bow Season: Part 1

The first real chance to chase big game arrives in August, just after summer reaches its apex and about the same time I start longing to get away from the Sonoran heat.  Arizona is great for the archer.  With 2 fairly long bow seasons and deer tags available over-the-counter,  It's the perfect opportunity to climb to cooler elevations and chase some bucks.  My dad and I drew tags for unit 29 (SE corner of AZ on the NM border), which contains the infamous Chiricahua Mountains.  Known for its abundance of unique wildlife and some of the most rugged terrain in Arizona, the Chiricahuas have been on my destination list for some time.  I planned a three day trip to scout the area for our rifle hunt later in the season and to try and take a coues buck with stick & string. I left early in the morning and arrived near Portal, AZ mid morning.  Portal, AZ is an appropriate name for this tiny dot on the map, as it is like a portal into the Chiricahua wilderness.  I drove a forest road until it was no more and set up camp.  Eager to get my bow out and start looking around,  I set off to a trail head I had seen on the map.  I started in on the trail which disappeared in the undergrowth rapidly. I eventually ended up bushwhacking my way to a massive limestone spire near one of the mountain peaks.  At the base of the huge spire I took a break.  The early bow season is still in the heat of summer, so hydration is crucial.  As I was sitting soaking up the scene around me, I heard large rocks being rolled down the mountainside behind me.  I had suspicions of what might be dislodging the rocks and I turned to glass with my binoculars.  I saw a quick flash of black fur as a black bear made his way far up the ravine.  Black bears pick through old rock slides looking for bugs and ground squirrels and in some areas you can hear big rocks being rolled over by bears while laying in your tent at night.  The first evening was great and produced a bear sighting and one coues deer doe.  Once I returned to camp, I was so exhausted from traversing the tough mountainous terrain, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.  I rose very early the next morning to creep into an oak thicket I had spotted the previous day. As the sky changed from gray to amber, I moved quietly and deliberately from tree to tree.  As I crested a small rolling hill, I watched a small coues buck quickly make his way out of the area.  Coues deer have an amazing sense of smell and the August heat of the early bow season makes it very difficult to creep close undetected. I knew that the little buck was gone, but I decided to climb a ridge and glass for the rest of the morning to see if I could catch some more deer sneaking through the hills.  About an hour later I spotted another small buck making his way around the base of the hill ahead of me.  I quickly came up with a plan to follow the ridge top and then down the far side which should give me a decent downhill shot.  I executed the plan perfectly but the young buck had vanished as they often do.  I suppose that is why they are called  "The Gray Ghost". Around mid day I hiked out (with a little extra bounce in my step now that I've seen some bucks) to replenish my water supply and make a quick run to Portal to pick up more ice.  As I was driving the forest road towards Portal, I spotted yet another black bear about a 1/4 mile from camp! I watched the bear forage for about 10 mins before I continued on to Portal.  That afternoon I planned to check out an area a little further  NE of where I was camped.  I made the short 35 min drive and parked the truck behind an old rancher cemetery around 1:30.  I started hiking to the base of the mountains and cut a set of lion tracks.  I followed the lion tracks up and into the rocks where they disappeared with no lion at the end of them. However, the tracks did lead me to a great vantage point to glass the hillsides from for deer.  I spent the rest of the afternoon glassing from several different ridges, but didn't spot any deer.  As the sunlight wained, I began still hunting my way back to the truck.  At last light I arrived back at the old cemetery, and started my way down the last hill.  I was watching the grass field around the cemetery when I slipped on loose rocks and just about slid down the rest of the hill.  As I slowed myself down, I glanced towards the truck just in time to see a  coues buck run out from the cemetery!  I pursued the buck but ran out of daylight too fast.  Back at camp, after a camp stove dinner, I settled down for bed and was chasing giant bucks in dreamland in no time.  The next morning I returned to the oak grove from the previous morning.  As I came around the side of a hill just above the oak thicket, I spotted another big black bruin!  The bear was unaware of me at first and continued rolling logs over looking for grubs.  I moved a little closer.  The bear, still unaware of my presence, turned and started meandering right towards me.  The bear smelled me at about 20 yards and stopped.  The bear raised its muzzle to the sky to get a better sniff.  I crept forward just a little for a better view.  The bear locked eyes with me and I felt the hairs on the nape of my neck stand up.  I unbuttoned the holster to my .357 just in case.  After staring me down for a minute or so, the big bear starting jaw popping.  Jaw popping is a scary sound made by the bear quickly clacking their molars together as a warning.  After an exciting couple of minutes the bear did a snappy mock charge and then turned and bolted up the canyon.  I hollered "Go away bear!" just to keep him moving, so I wouldn't accidentally bump into him on my hike out.  I hunted the rest of the morning, but was unable to locate anymore deer.  I had to cut my last day of hunting short to help some elderly and unprepared birdwatchers out of the area.  The Chiricahua Mountains are surely one of Arizonas' hidden gems.  I can't wait to return and chase some more deer with my dad later this fall.....maybe head back down earlier for the fall bear opener. (wink) Stay Tuned!



Lion Tracks





Arizona Black Bear

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