Scouting Begins

I finally got out this morning to look for a big bull for Kenny. But I'll show you some of the beautiful wildflowers that are out now first. I don't remember having seen either of the blue flowers before, and these pictures miss their vibrancy, but I wanted them on film, er silicon/metal/resin type thing.

I got up at 5 a.m. today, and I still didn't have a lot of spotting time. But I did manage to find what appeared to be a bigger bull and a small herd of cow elk. I tried a picture, but it was too dark and the animals were so small they were imperceptible. Once I get them "patterned" I'll hike in closer and hopefully when the sun is up.

Spotting has several elements necessary to be successful. Some can be bought, some learned, and some have to be earned.

First is high quality optics, and these are available to those willing to pay for them. My dad bought a wonderful spotting scope (think rugged telescope) by Leica, which I have since appropriated, sorry Dad. It is amazingly clear, and I have identified that deer were bucks from a couple of miles on clear days. I remember looking at some goats on Timp, and as I watched a man pulled up and asked what I was looking at. I told him and gave directions where to look, and though his scope was worth several hundred dollars, it wasn't clear enough to pick the goats from the snow fields. This really brought home how important a good scope is worth. On the other hand, I went out with a buddy whose scope was more expensive than mine, and he saw about 2/3rds the deer I saw.

The second part now became clear, things I had learned. I knew which areas of the mountain to look at because of the articles, books, and videos I had studied over the years. Fantastic "glass" won't help you see deer that are not there, you need to look for their needs; water, food, and shelter. I have learned to look for cliff rose and other shrubby looking openings for deer when they first get up. I look for clearings in heavy cover or wallows for elk, and I look for the ugliest, roughest country for goats. These are the needs that hold animals in close proximity. Now there are other things to be sure, but these are things I usually look for first. Another thing I learned by reading was how to glass an area. I start at the top of the mountain or hill. First off it is the easiest place to start at and for many species it seems the loner dominant males like to play hard to get. Then I follow the ridge down to the bottom, then back to the top and back down a little lower down the side of the mountain, repeat like eating corn on the cob. I go quickly the first time, binoculars if the mountain is close, and the scope if it is far away. I'm just looking for colors and color patterns that seem to stand out. Deer will be reddish in the summer, elk have light bodies and dark necks, and these colors really stand out against the green foliage. Once I've gone over the whole hillside, I start again and this time go more slowly through those areas that I think will hold animals. This time I'm not just looking for colors, I'm looking for shapes that don't fit in. Horizontal lines that are too short to be an average log, perhaps with shadows underneath. I repeat this process, varying direction and time, looking for patterns and very importantly, changes. Perhaps I've gone over a field several times and then on the next pass there is some thing light behind the bush, or maybe now behind another bush.

So the last part are those things earned. They can be earned by sweat, experience, and patience. I earn seeing that big buck by hiking to the next hill over or to a better vantage point. I earn it by always looking for those patterns. Ever since I was first exposed to hunting as a boy, I wanted to have the magic of seeing an animal moving in its environment. My wife will attest that if we are driving through the mountains, she should drive, because I am always looking. I think I'm good with visual patterns naturally, but seeing game in full and partial view over and over helps me to pick out smaller and smaller parts of the pattern. But of all of these, patience is the biggest way to earn skill and experience. Sitting for hours, staring at hillsides, probably is an indication that I'm not quite right. I watched a NOVA about astronomers watching for that one change in an seemingly unchanging sky, and I felt a kinship and understood them. My brother would practice guitar for long periods of time, the same part over and over again. As he improved in small ways he seemed driven to continue. I like music and thought I could do the same, but some how those improvements didn't speak to me the way they did to my brother. I wouldn't spend the time I needed to improve much, but I'll stare at dirt and bushes till the cows come home (as long as they're cow elk.)

I put these pictures on again because I need to go look for this guy and his relatives, but they live a long hike away, and I'm trying to figure a good way to get closer to their summer range before I have to spend a few days schlepping gear into trail-less back country.

I think he's a 6x7, six points on one side and seven on the other. In the West we tend to count one side only; "He's a four point buck." "He's six point bull." or we say one side "by" the other side. Back east they count all of the points; "He's an eight point buck."

I like to think it's a typical lyconic Frontiersman way of saying things, but it's probably "cain't count that high with my boots on" thing.

P.S. I do know of a red fox den and a coyote den on our foothills.