Wanted to bust out a little hike to check my fitness and gear prior to elk season.  I’ve got a hot Monroe, UT elk tag burning a hole in my pocket.  For those of you who have  been to Palm Springs, CA, this is Mt. San Jacinto;  the mountain that you look up to, where you can ride the tram up most of the way.  We hiked up the opposite (west) side of the mountain.  It’s 20+ miles round trip and about 5600 feet of elevation gain from the trailhead.  We did 4 miles in Friday evening and then did the summit and back out the next day for 16+ miles.  Beautiful weather, but it was a bit hazy up top.  Otherwise it would have made for better pictures. 

What a great country we live in where you can do fun stuff like this over the 4th of July. God bless the men and women who have served our country, giving us the freedom to enjoy the outdoors.Just a lil’ sow. Steep 29 yd (shot for 22) quartering away shot. First hog I saw of the weekend. Quick stalk down one side and up the other side of the canyon, and intercepted her on her way to water. I should have taken a pic, but the hole the RazorTrick put in the chest of this thing was insane, it was like throwing an axe through through the pig! LOL.

Also managed to catch some mediocre pics of a nice buck.  This may not seem all that exciting to big muley hunters, but bear in mind this is a southern Cal buck that lives only an hour away from Los Angeles.  He is a genuine monster for So Cal.

And lastly, here’s a pic of my new designated ranch driver. 

Sorry for the lousy cell phone pic, but you get the point.  It takes serious effort to look this goofy!  Summertime hog hunts get HOT around these parts.  Having a zip off convertible Ascent pant would be awesome!

I’ve been laying off the hogs myself an have been playing guide for buddies.  Attached are some pics of a few more hogs from my crew this year.

Another fun weekend in God’s country at Tejon.  I actually got to hunt for myself a bit this weekend, which was nice. Nothing to this one really. I went and checked on a herd I’ve seen several times this year. Every time before, they’ve been moving through the thick stuff and haven’t given me an opportunity to stalk. This time we spotted one who fed in one spot long enough for a stalk. I offered it to my cousin and he passed since he wanted a nice boar and this was obviously a fat sow. I grabbed my bow and jammed up one small ridge, down the back and up a larger ridge. As I got into the zone I slowed way down. I couldn’t see the pig. Then I saw an odd shaped triangle sticking out over the top of a downed log 25 yards in front of me. As I was picking up my binos to look closer, the triangle twitched. That confirmed what I suspected. Pig ear. Then I started to see several other bedded hogs materialize around the log. One snorted and got up. I came to full draw. They all got up. One stalled just a second too long and got a Razor Trick through both lungs. She only went about 40 yards, spraying red the whole way. Rolled her down the hill and it was a nice easy down hill drag for once.

I was fortunate enough to draw a once in a lifetime tag to hunt oryx on the White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico. It took me 10+ years to draw this tag and I know many others who have not drawn in twice that long. The hunt was an incredible experience to say the least and really interesting being on the base where they tested the first atomic bomb, the Patriot missiles, and seeing (from a distance) where the space shuttle lands, etc. We saw all sorts of spent ammunition, shrapnel, and lots of unidentified ordinance scattered about the desert. It was a little unnerving at times and you surely had to watch your step. We even saw a place where a missile had impacted the earth and melted the sand into glass shards. Like I said, it was really fascinating.

We arrived Friday evening and attended a helpful oryx hunting seminar held by one of the local taxidermists. We learned a little more about field judging and habitat preferences. After little sleep due to partying servicemen downstairs from our motel room, we were bleary eyed, but ready Saturday morning. It was cold as we stood around the check in station waiting for the orientation. There were people from all over the United States and we had some interesting conversations. We were told that bad weather was expected. Sunday’s forecast called for cold wind, rain and snow. That would surely shut down the oryx hunting and added to the pressure of finding a good one on Saturday. Finally, we were set free. I was forewarned to expect a circus as all 100 tag holders, and their 2-3 helpers, each made a mad dash for their trucks and burned out of the parking lot. Fortunately, it was nothing like that. The staff did a good job of keeping everyone calm and orchestrating an orderly exit out into the hunting area. That was a nice surprise as I was expecting the worst.

From talking with previous tagholders, I had some dope on a good area to hit. It would take almost an hour to drive all the way there. Within the first few miles I knew this was not going to be like the oryx hunts of the past on this range. I had heard about how easy this hunt was and how it was just a road hunt. Not true, at least not any more. I had heard of anecdotal stories of several guys killing their oryx within a couple hundred yards of the check station, just minutes after finishing the orientation. That sure wasn’t our experience as we drove 20 miles before even seeing animals, and they were just juveniles, called “brownies” due to their brown hides. It was evident that this was not going to be a slam dunk.

We got to our area and quickly glassed up some animals over a mile out in the greasewoods. With Taylor as the spotter left at the truck, Andy and I got on the stalk. A few hundred yards into it we bumped into two more brownies. They busted us at 2-300 yards but fortunately ran away from the main herd we were stalking. As we got closer we slowed way down and made every attempt to keep vegetation in between us and the herd. There was very little contour to the land. We got to a spot where the vegetation thinned out so we stopped to glass ahead. 500 yards out in front of us we picked up a black and white face that had us pegged. We were again reminded that this was not going to be too easy. When they told us that oryx had eyesight that would put a pronghorn to shame I didn’t believe it. I did now. All of sudden a huge bull, that we had not seen, busted from the outskirts of the herd and bolted. He was a monster. We had seen a trophy mount of the world record muzzleloader bull at the seminar and this one was bigger. 40”+ with great mass. Of course he took the whole herd with them and our stalk was over. As we walked out, we realized that there were two other groups of hunters stalking the same herd. That probably added to their spookiness.

We continued on and quickly found another herd. They were much further out towards the foothills, close to two miles from the road. We couldn’t get a good judgment of trophy quality due to heat waves in the spotting scope, but we could tell that at least one was worthy of a closer look. This time Andy was the spotter with the scope on the tripod, while Taylor and I stalked in. Again, we had to get around two juvenile oryx to avoid spooking the main herd. We did and got to the band of cover we needed to close the gap. We lucked out and executed a flawless stalk. We were finally inside of 125 yards when we got a visual. Fortunately we had several minutes to judge two mature animals that were in the clearing. The herd was unaware of our presence. One of the two animals that was visible seemed a bit longer than the other, but the other was giving me an easy shot. I contemplated and took a gamble to get a better look at the first one. It fed behind some brush so I had to move to get a better look. A big risk because the other one was in the open. As I moved, that one jerked his head up and looked our way. We stayed hidden but he knew something was up. I got one more quick glance at the one I wanted and confirmed that it was, in fact, substantially bigger. I went through my check list: dark polished horns, check. Horn tips several inches above the shoulders with the head down feeding, check. Flared horn tips, check. 2.5 face lengths stacked up the horn, check. BOOM!

I was rocked by the recoil, but I heard the bullet hit and I thought I saw the animal flinch hard. The brush erupted with animals and 7 or 8 more went running off. I lost track of which animal I shot at. One (the other of the two I was initially deciding on) stopped at about 300 yards and looked back. I held off as I was confident I hit the first animal. Then the whole herd took off to the north and Taylor and I were left trying to gather our wits. I called Andy on the radio and told him to keep an eye on the herd and see if any looked hit. He got a good look and replied back that he didn’t think any looked crippled.

Taylor thought he saw an animal go down, but wasn’t 100% sure. It was chaotic as the herd left the scene. There was a big sage patch in front of us so we gave it a few minutes and started combing the brush. After 20-30 minutes we found no blood and there were too many tracks to follow. Doubt was creeping in. We went back to the site of the shot and started over. Taylor walked right out into the cover and gave a holler. A horn tip was cresting the sage. A white belly was peeking through the brush.

Now I thought I had done a good job of trophy judging but having not seen enough oryx to be totally confident, I was nervous walking up to the animal. I knew it was respectable and mature, but I didn’t know exactly what I would see as I approached. I was more than pleasantly surprised. There was ground growth on this animal. It was a beast! It was 10:30 am and we had a trophy oryx on the ground.

Andy brought the game cart all the way out and Taylor started pulling as we left to try to find a way to get the truck closer. We were able to get the truck about 1/3 of the way there by driving off road (allowed) and weaving our way through the brush. Andy walked in front of the truck to keep an eye out for unexploded ordinance. That was a little puckering.

It was nearly 2:00 before we got it back to the truck. At the skinning rack, we broke out the tape. 39” on each horn with 6 ¼” bases. Perfectly symmetrical. As we cleared the gate at about 3:30, ours was the 31st oryx to come out. There was one animal that had broken the 40” mark by 3/8” on one horn, but the other horn was several inches shorter. The hunt staff congratulated us on our trophy. It set in as we stood outside the gate talking to some of the other hunters. Our animal was the envy of the crowd.

I was initially having a hard time getting too fired up about this hunt as it’s bowhunting that really gets me going. This hunt would have been a nearly impossible bowhunt so I was a bit unexcited at first. The terrain is flat, the animals are very highly pressured (10 hunts per year, with 100 tag holders each), they have incredible eyesight, we only had two days to hunt (really one due to weather), this was an expensive tag, and was truly once in a life time. I will never be able to apply again. Because of all this, I grabbed my trusty old 30-06. I must say that once I picked it up Saturday morning, all regrets were long gone. I got to spend a couple days on an amazing piece of ground with a great hunting crew and I got to take a rare trophy of several lifetimes. I’m a happy guy. Thanks for reading, enjoy the pictures.

Just got back from a great weekend on the famed Tejon Ranch of Southern California.  As usual, it was a great time and we went 4 for 4 on the hogs.  The highlight for me was getting to whack one with the wife and kid in tow.   My cousin, Matt Sumrow, also got to take his first wild pig.

Homey don’t play “off season.”  A buddy of mine just talked me into trying something new.  A predator hunt, at night, with hounds.  This was definitely not the typical hunt but it sounded interesting and with nothing else planned we decided to give it a shot.  My brother, Taylor, and I loaded up and headed a few hours north for a quick hunt.  It was not what we expected but sure was fun.  It was supposed to be easy.  It was not.  Far from it.  We were hoping for bobcats.  The area is also loaded with bears and big cats too so there was always the element of the unknown.  It was cool hunting in the dark as you never knew what the dogs might have treed.  The first chase resulted in an instant strike and a tree several hours and miles later.  It was one of the most strenuous climbs I’ve ever been on.  Straight up, soaking wet, crawling on all fours, with an oak brush canopy that was so thick you could not stand up.  When we finally got to the tree, it was so thick that it took us several minutes to even find the animal in the tree, and another several minutes to see it well enough to identify it.

Taylor was up first. His only “shot window” was tiny and heavily obstructed with branches.  He had a 3” circle exposing the critter’s head and that was it.  The first two shots deflected off branches.  The third just grazed the side of his head.  The next shot resulted in a bumped release and a mis flung arrow.  The fifth arrow hit home perfectly, right between the eyes (I have a picture but it’s a bit graphic).  After that shot, the animal amazingly jumped from the tree and took off.  We didn’t think it would go far but it did.  We let the dogs go again and they treed a mile later, fortunately back towards the truck.

This time Taylor was down to his sixth and last arrow.  We found a good shot angle, lit the critter up, and Taylor drilled him with a good kill shot.  The amazing thing was that the fifth arrow was still stuck in the animal.  A few inches of arrow was sticking out of his face and a few inches was sticking out of his hind quarter.  That animal had run over a mile, in thick brush, with an arrow running the length of him!  Pretty incredible.

We ran the dogs the rest of the night but no more good chases.  We froze our asses off.  The brush was soaking wet and made us soaking wet.  We were not prepared for such a long chase and I was not dressed properly.  I just threw my Celcius jacket in the truck and jumped in with jeans on.  I will NEVER hunt in blue jeans again.  Once I stopped moving for a few minutes my pants would actually freeze to my legs.  I was incredibly cold all night.  Cotton kills!  I was truly longing for my fast-drying Sitka pants.  We watched the sun come up and didn’t get back to camp until well after day break.  I haven’t stayed up all night since college!  This was certainly a non-traditional hunt and new for us, but will definitely be something I’ll do again.  The rush of chasing predators at night is very addicting.  Can’t wait to go again.

Well my buddy Zeke and I just got back from our annual Southern AZ January hunt. With a 11 wk old baby at home and my oryx hunt in New Mexico next month I had to keep this to a short 3.5 day hunt. We also went to a new spot I had never seen before. Given these limitations my hopes were not the highest and my standards were even lower. We ended up having a great hunt anyways.

I got within bow range of a decent 3 point and a small forky on the second day, only to roll a rock when moving into position to shoot. I was in my socks and I thought the rock would hold my weight as I got to my feet. Nope. Then the next day I got within 10 yards of a nice 22” 3×4 buck and his group of 20 does. One doe got within 3 yards before she busted me. I was pinned down in the open with nothing but a 18″ dead yucca to try to hide behind. It was intense. I thought for sure they could hear me breathing and sense my heart rate. At such short range I was once again reminded how well the Optifade works. This is the thrid time this year I have had deer less than 10 yards from me, in plain view, on the ground. Anyhow, I took a rushed shot at guessed yardage after they busted and missed. That was a bummer. The next day Zeke was able to get within 40 yards twice on this same buck, but each time his does blocked a clear shot. He knew how to protect himself. He ended up being the best buck we saw. You can see him in the center of the attached picture.

All in all it was a bit odd. We glassed up way too many does without bucks. Even a couple herds of 20+ does. Not sure where all the bucks were. We should have seen more. I don’t know if the rut had not yet started (very doubtful) or if it started early and was over in this area. It was just strange. The bucks that were with does were never really agressive either. It was frustrating glassing up so many buckless does, but whatcha gonna do?

The other bummer was that I hit a javelina perfectly in the shoulder and only got 3” of penetration. I found the arrow after it fell out and there was blood covering the broadhead and up a coule inches of the shaft and that was it. I have no idea why. You’d think with 75lbs of kinetic energy, a little javelina’s shoulder would be no obstacle. I guess it was just one of those unexplainable things that happens with archery sometimes. Zeke did have an awesome kill on a javelina with his recurve bow. I called it in and it charged in full speed to about 3 steps where he smoked it. That was exciting.

After killing the first one a few weeks ago, I took a break from San Diego county hunting for a couple weeks then have been back at it lately.  With my second tag I was thinking I’d try to hold out as long as I could for a buck.  That ended up not being very long.  As I was driving up the mountain last night, Katie called and said her contractions had started.  I about crashed and started veering over to get off the highway and turn around.  Then she said she just got off the phone with her doc and she had some time.  These were just minor preliminary contractions and unless several were happening within an hour, birth was not imminent, but getting close.  Any day now. 

So that changed my mind about holding out.  I knew that filled tag or not, my local deer season would be ending very shortly.  I got into my stand about 4:30pm and when this lone doe came walking down the hill my mind was made up.  I set my book down and grabbed my bow.  She walked down and stopped almost directly underneath my stand, blocked by some brush.  She stayed there for several minutes racking my nerves.  I drew and had to let down several times.  It was like she knew she was safe under that screen of arrow deflecting twigs.  Then she cautiously stepped out into a clear lane, slightly quartering away and walking down hill.  I was already drawn as she hesitated between steps.  Then the arrow was gone, buried into her chest.  It zipped right through.  She ran out of sight and I thought I heard some stumbling and then a crash.

I got down and checked my trail camera, changed the batteries and waited about 10 additional minutes.  Then I went to go find my arrow.  I was expecting to see the bright green fletching sticking out of the earth.  When I didn’t I got a bit nervous. Then I found it, camouflaged by the crimson coating it had just received.  I looked down the trail and saw a copious blood trail.  I followed it for a few steps and it was so heavy I decided to keep going instead of waiting longer.  She went over a log, rounded a bend in the trail and was laying there already expired.  She didn’t go 30 yards.  The broadhead centered the on-side lung, drove down through the top of the heart and came out her off-side armpit. 

This one was a fatty and a bit bigger than the first one.  I packed the last one (only about a mile hike) out whole and it hurt.  I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.  Getting to work I had her quartered and in the pack in short order.  I’ll never get quite used to working on meat in the dark by myself in this cougar infested area.  If anybody saw or heard me they would have thought I lost my mind.  I was alternately whistling, yelling unintelligible sounds, and singing whatever song came to mind, hoping the lions only liked to eat tree huggers and not lunatic bowhunters.  Tell you what though, you sure can pack meat out fast when you are envisioning a mountain lion hot on your tail.  The mind can play some cruel tricks in the dark solitude of a silent forest. 

Now both my deer tags are filled and I’m a bit sad.  I have no other hunts planned until February (NM oryx and Tejon hogs).  Until then, I suppose I’ll have to entertain myself learning to be a poopy diaper changing machine.  

Just got back from a cow hunt with my dad and brother in Utah.  This was supposed to be a relaxing and fun hunt with family.   It was much tougher than we expected.  The elk were way more pressured and the country was much more open than we anticipated, wide open actually.  I’ve hunted antelope in more cover.  Unfortunately my dad and bro never had any good opportunites.  We saw a lot of beautiful country with big bucks, a bear, and some nice bulls.  We also had some awesome trout fishing. 

I tried to make it happen with the bow it was futile given the conditions and terrain.  Late one eveing I glassed up a distant herd right at last light.  Wanting my dad to get a shot I looked at him and he gave me the “no way” look.  We would of had to move hard to close the distance before it got dark.  He handed over his .270 and I took off running.  I had just barely enough light to make the shot.   

I also happened upon an unfortunate coyote on the way back to camp on the last day.  Too bad for him.

The highlight of the trip was watching a nice bull put on a killer rut show right in front of us.  I got some video of all the bugling, splashing, thrashing, wallowing, mud flying etc.  Sure wish we’d had a bull tag!  Definitely a good time and I have lots of good eatin’ to come.