Outdoor Writer

It certainly helps to have enough to penetrate deep enough into a vital organ, but all the energy in the world almost becomes meaningless with a poorly placed shot. In contrast, the energy of even a pipsqueak .22 LR is plenty when it's placed in the right spot. I guess the adage would be: Energy is a not a substitute for bad shooting. -TONY

Yup. There's a NZ thread and one on my Africa hunt in the OTHER BIG GAME section. Consider: I've hunted in 39 states, 10 Canadian provinces, Africa, Mexico and NZ. Of all the hunts I've been, I would say the NZ hunt was the most enjoyable and fun experience. I wish I could have spent more time there, but my hunting partner had only so many days before he had to return. I would have liked to play tourist a bit more. -TONY

In light of the recent discussions here, thought everyone would enjoy trying to answer this trivia question. Who wrote the following: Ethical behavior is doing the right thing when no one is watching even when doing the wrong thing is legal. No cheating! -TONY

Hey, I have a bunch of crap I want to pawn off on someone else anyway. -TONY

In addition to being a theologian, philosopher and physician, he was also musician. I should have also been more exact in that he won the Nobel PEACE Prize. -TONY

Nope. Sorta the same era, tho. -TONY

He's dead! He also received a Nobel prize. -TONY

Marshall, The following will be posted on the NSSF's Huntandshoot.org web site this week. -TONY HOAL Needs Kids Hunt of a Lifetime (HOAL) is a national nonprofit organization that provides hunting and fishing opportunities for children with life-threatening and terminal illnesses. Since Arizona passed legislation in 2005 to make big-game permit transfers possible, the Arizona chapter (HOAL AZ) has sent 14 youngsters on 16 hunts. Right now, however, HOAL AZ has a shortage of youngsters to fill several available hunts, that include five for bull elk and one each for pronghorn antelope and bear in Arizona. There's also an ibex hunt in New Mexico available. These are all premium hunting opportunties that most adult hunters would love to have. When a youngster is accepted to take part, he or she receives a total hunt package including equipment, transportation (air and ground), a guide/outfitter, lodging, meat processing and delivery, as well as taxidermy and delivery of their mount at no cost. One parent can also accompany the young hunter. So if you have a minor child (age 10-17) or know someone else who has one with a life threatening illness who would like to go on an HOAL hunt, contact Arizona Ambassador Terry Petko by phone at 602-689-9524 or by e-mail at tpetko@hoalarizona.org as soon as possible.

I did five earlier and finally aced the last three on the first go round. And those were even at my legit age! Now, consider that I was a certified volunteer instructor here for two years and in Colorado for three during the 1970s. I also had a Class A First Aid rating! How much one can forget in 30 years. -TONY

Excerpt from Chapter One of WINTER KILL: One TWELVE SLEEP COUNTY, WYOMING A STORM WAS COMING TO THE BIGHORN MOUNTAINS. It was late December, four days before Christmas, the last week of the late elk hunting season. Wyoming game warden Joe Pickett was in his green four-wheel drive pickup, parked just below the tree line in the Southern Wolf Range. The terrain he was patrolling was an enormous wooded bowl, and Joe was located just below the eastern rim. The sea of dark pines in the bowl was interspersed with ancient clear-cuts, mountain meadows, and set off by knuckle-like granite ridges that defined each small drainage. Beyond the rim to the west was Battle Mountain, separated from the Wolf Range by Crazy Woman Creek that flowed, eventually, into the Twelve Sleep River. It was two hours away from nightfall, but the sky was leaden, dark, and threatening snow. The temperature had dropped during the afternoon as a bank of clouds moved over the sky and shut out the sun. It was now twenty-nine degrees with a slightly moist, icy breeze. The first severe winter storm warning of the season had been issued for Northern Wyoming and Southern Montana for that night and the following day, with another big Canadian front forming behind it. Beneath the high ceiling, clouds approached in tight formation, looking heavy and loaded and ominous. Joe felt akin to a soldier at a remote outpost, listening to the distant rumble and clank of enemy artillery pieces being moved into place prior to an opening barrage. For most of the afternoon, he had been watching a herd of twenty elk move cautiously from black timber into a windswept meadow tograze. He had watched the elk, then watched the sky, then turned back to the elk again. Next to Joe on the seat was a sheaf of papers his wife Marybeth had gathered for him that had been brought home from school by his daughters. Now that all three girls were in school – eleven-year-old Sheridan in Fifth Grade, six-year-old Lucy in Kindergarten, and their nine-year-old foster daughter April in Third Grade – the small stateowned house seemed awash in paper. He smiled as he looked through the stack. Lucy garnered consistent smiley faces stamped by her teacher for her cartoon drawings. April wasn’t doing quite so well in rudimentary multiplication. She had trouble with 5’s, 8’s, and 3’s. But the teacher had sent notes home recently praising April’s improvement. Sheridan’s writing assignment had been to describe what her father did for a living. MY DAD THE GAME WARDEN By Sheridan Pickett Mrs. Barron’s Class, 5th. My Dad is the game warden for all of the mountains as far around as you can see. He works hard during hunting season and gets home late at night and leaves early in the morning. His job is to make sure hunters are responsible and that they obey the law. It can be a scary job, but he’s good at it. We have lived in Saddlestring for 3 and one-half years, and this is all he has done. Sometimes, he saves animals from danger. My Mom is home but works at a stable and at the library… JOE KNEW HE was not alone on the mountain. Earlier, he had seen a late-model bronze-colored GMC pickup vehicle below him in the bowl. Swinging his window-mounted Redfield spotting scope toward it, he caught a quick look at the back window of the pickup - - driver only, no passenger, gun rack with scoped rifle, Wyoming plates with the buckaroo on them -- and an empty bed, indicating that the hunter had not yet gotten his elk. He tried to read the license plate number before the truck entered the trees, but he couldn’t. Instead, he jotted down the description of the vehicle in his console notebook. It was the only vehicle he had seen all day in the area. Twenty-five minutes later, the last of the elk sniffed the wind and moved into the clearing, joining the rest of the herd. The elk seemed to know about the storm warning, and wanted to use the last hours of daylight to load up in the grassy meadow before it was covered with snow. Joe thought that if the lone hunter in the bronze pickup could see the meadow that there would be a wide choice of targets. It would be interesting to see how the scenario would unfold, if it unfolded at all. There was just as much of a chance that the hunter would simply drive by, deep in the trees, road-hunting like 90 percent of all hunters, and never know that that an entire herd of elk had exposed themselves above him in a clearing. Joe sat in his pickup in silence and waited. --- WITH A SHARP CRACK, the calm was suddenly shattered. The shots sounded like rocks thrown against sheet metal, and the first four came in rapid succession. From the sound of the shots, Joe registered at least three hits, but because it often took more than a single bullet to bring down a big bull elk, he couldn’t be sure how many animals had been hit. Maxine, his yellow Labrador, sprung up from where she had been sleeping on the pickup seat as if an electrical charge had coursed through her. Below, the herd had come alive at once, and was now running across the meadow. Joe could see that three brown dots remained behind in the tall grass and sagebrush. One hunter, three elk down. Two more than legal. Joe felt a rush of anger, and of anxiety. Game violations were not that uncommon during hunting season and he had ticketed scores of hunters over the years for taking too many animals, not tagging carcasses, improper licenses, hunting in a closed area, and other infractions. In many cases, the violators turned themselves in because they were honorable men who had lived and hunted in the area for years. Often, he found violations as he did random checks of hunting camps. Sometimes, other hunters reported the crime. In the 1,500 square miles of Joe Pickett’s district, even after three years, it was an unusual situation for him to actually be present as a violation occurred. Snatching the radio transmitter from its cradle, Joe called in his position over a roar of static. Distance and terrain prohibited a clear signal. The dispatcher repeated his words back to him, Joe confirmed them, and he described the bronze pickup and advised that he was going to approach it immediately. The answer was a high-pitched howl of static he was unable to squelch. At least, he thought, they knew where he was. That, unfortunately, hadn’t always been the case. "Here we go, Maxine." Joe said tersely. He started the motor, snapped the toggle switch to engage the four-wheel drive, and plunged down the mountain into the dark woods. Despite the freezing air, he opened the windows so he could hear if there were more shots. His breath came in puffs of condensation that whipped out of the window. Another shot cracked, followed by three more. The hunter had obviously reloaded, because no legal hunting rifle had over a five shot capacity, and was firing again. The lead bull elk in the herd tumbled, as did a cow and her calf. Rather than rush into the trees, the rest of the herd inexplicably turned shy of the far wall of trees in a looping liquid turn and raced downhill in the meadow, offering themselves broadside to the shooter.

You might indeed be able to hold your own then if dead men could debate. -TONY

Hmmm. I think if he was still alive you might be outgunned in that match. Then again, I have no idea about your education. -TONY

I doubt Ol' Aldo would have ever said anything like that. He was very PRO hunting. And none of the other guesses are right either. Don't forget; no googling! -TONY

Here's another one that relates to recent discussions here. Again -- no cheating and that means no googling either! -TONY Who Wrote: One does not hunt in order to kill; on the contrary, one kills in order to have hunted...If one were to present the sportsman with the death of the animal as a gift he would refuse it. What he is after is having to win it, to conquer the surly brute through his own effort and skill with all the extras that this carries with it: the immersion in the countryside, the healthfulness of the exercise, the distraction from his job.

As you now know, that is also wrong. I'm surprised no one guessed Ted Nugent. -TONY

Thanks, Amanda. I googled him after replying to Keith and saw he's a nautralist and ecologist. I'll have Ellen pick up the book at the library when she returns the C.J. Box's Free Fire, which I'm now reading. -TONY

Did you actually take the official pre-certification test or just the practice versions?? -TONY

Never liked weaver mounts. I used the Leupold one piece base and it fits fine. Thanks for all the help. Glad you got it all worked out! Now kill something. -TONY

Not sure if you saw what I said in the thread about the party at my place, but I suggested folks bring something they either don't want or don't need so we can have a fun auction. The proceeds from such would go to CWT.com. -TONY

Keith, No, I haven't. Who is he and what's his expertise -- biologist or...???? Got a book title? Without even reading him, in a way he is probably right to a point. For example, if there is a unit where the drought has degraded the HABITAT, i.e. the food sources, supplying water to critters artificially, thus keeping more of them alive by quenching their thirst, probably degrades the habitat even more. So if and when the drought does end, the recovery of that habitat will take much longer. Hunting can somewhat control the over-population, but it has to include more than bulls and bucks. The Kaibab when hunting was shut down is a prime example of habitat destruction. Signs of the devastated habitat remained visible for decades after the huge die-off occurred. Many trees were denuded as high as the deer could reach while standing on their back legs. -TONY

Pasted below is a message I had posted on MM when a member there opined about the legality of it all. He didn't realize that clip was taken in NZ. **** Hunting from a helicopter is ILLEGAL in all states,and there's also a FEDERAL law that prohibits it. Need to read the blurb on that video -- the "kiwi-style hunting" part. It was shot in New Zealand, and it appears those are red deer. Two points: 1. Shooting critters from helicopters is PERFECTLY legal there. Also, there is no limit on the amount of non-native animals one may kill with NO LICENSES or tags required. 2. The New Zealand government regularly shoots thousands of non-indigenous animals -- including red deer, tahr and chamois -- that way in an effort to protect native habitat and species. They also POISON them. -TONY

Donnie, There are three major components to killing big-game. 1. Shot Placement 2. Shot Placement 3. Shot Placement Glad you've enjoyed the book. I tried to write it in a somewhat casual and easily readable manner yet still provide some solid information. -TONY

Over the course of the last two days, I've jumped over to the practice test page and have taken the test about 10 times. Although I've scored 90% or more each time without studying the course material, I've never yet hit 100% on the first try. Since one has to input their BD to begin, I'm guessing the selected questions become more difficult for us older folks. Maybe I'll try it today by making myself a 10-yr. old. -TONY

Lots of good guesses, but so far no one has grabbed the brass ring. And at that, I'm really surprised. The first line of that quote -- One does not hunt in order to kill; on the contrary, one kills in order to have hunted... -- has been often cited for the past 50 years throughout the hunting world. Someone did make a fairly good guess at the person's national origin, though. Soooo...here's the answer. -TONY Spanish philosopher Jose Ortega y Gasset Meditations on Hunting "Meditations on Hunting is the most quoted book in sporting literature. It is the finest work on the essence and ethics of hunting. Today when both hunting and fishing are often condemned, Meditations takes on an even greater significance. Ortega points out that life is a dynamic interchange between man and his surroundings. He explains that hunting is part of man's very nature, that "hunting is a universal and impassioned sport...it is the purest form of human happiness. The essence of hunting or fishing involves a complete code of ethics of the most distinguished design. The sportsman who accepts the sporting code of ethics keeps his commandments in the greatest solitude with no witnesses or audience other than the sharp peaks of the mountain, the stern oak, and the passing animal."

Right. That's what I meant. Otherwise you would have had it right on the first try. -TONY