Hunting with the Badger 2024

[WhistlingBadger]

Where's the road kill you're gonna eat?

It's actually legal to salvage road kill in Wyoming...but personally, I've never been that hungry.

I know where meat comes from, people walking around get kidnapped by aliens who process them and sell them to Woolworths as lamb and pork chops.

 

[Back in the fold]

Teach a man to hunt and he’ll need two jobs to pay for all his “free” meat .

 

[WhistlingBadger]

Teach a man to hunt and he’ll need two jobs to pay for all his “free” meat .

Yeah, we don't do it to save money...although with meat prices these days, it's getting close.

 

[Back in the fold]

Yeah, we don't do it to save money...although with meat prices these days, it's getting close.

I hear that Man . Seven bucks a pound for hamburger ? They can keep it .

 

[WhistlingBadger]

Well, I didn't kill an antelope. Turns out I was set up in a bad spot, not at all where the antelope were watering. I moved my blind to another spot, an overflow stream from a stock tank. That also turned out to be no good, because the stream was a couple hundred yards long, and the antelope simply drank from a different part of the stream, and no one came remotely close enough for a shot.

This was not an enjoyable hunt, and I'm starting to think blind hunting is not for me. If I ever do this again, I will put in a lot more time scouting and find a better spot, as some shot opportunities would make it feel more worth it. Sitting in a cold/hot blind for 14 hours a day watching the antelope drink far away was really no fun at all. But still, being invisible in nature always gives one some memorable experiences. Following are pictures of a few of them.

 

[WhistlingBadger]

The view from my blind at my first set-up.

Sunrise. Note the LGB (little gray bird). I'm not sure what kind of bird this is, but about a half-dozen of them kept me company every morning for about an hour around sunrise.

 

[WhistlingBadger]

Sage grouse. These, too, showed up around sunrise every morning and kept me company for a while, announced by their calls, which sound like prissy old ladies coughing discreetly. "Hem, hem, hem." They're fun birds to hang out with. Really big too, about the size of a large chicken or a smallish turkey.

 

[WhistlingBadger]

A huge bull showed up the first afternoon, moaning and grunting in an extremely grouchy manner. Angus are a pretty mellow breed as cattle go, but this old guy got my heart pumping a bit when he came over and cast a baleful stare at me, right in the front of my blind. I didn't get any close-ups of those (very long) few minutes, as I was too busy contemplating the fragility of my improvised fence, and thinking about how best to bail out the back and run for my life if he decided he didn't like my looks.

After satisfying both his thirst and his curiosity, he finally moseyed on his way, leaving me slightly rattled but also very amused.

 

[Back in the fold]

You ain’t scared of them beeve’s are you ? I’ve never had any problem with cattle except they follow you around wanting to be fed .

 

[WhistlingBadger]

You ain’t scared of them beeve’s are you ? I’ve never had any problem with cattle except they follow you around wanting to be fed .

Generally, no. The steers are curious and playful and friendly, in their dumb, annoying cow kind of way. I've never had any trouble with them either, even the bulls. But when you get a huge, grouchy bull sticking his face right in the front of your blind, staring you down and grunting at you? It's thought-provoking.

 

[WhistlingBadger]

OK, so here's the problem. My first setup was at a tiny water hole, about a quarter mile down the hill from a big stock tank where the cows were hanging out. Antelope generally don't want to drink where the cows drink, so I figured they'd be using the small water hole. But the antelope didn't get the memo, I guess, and they were completely ignoring the small water hole, quenching their thirst just below where the cows are in this picture. I saw about nine that first day, all of them at approximately the same spot. So that evening, I pulled up stakes and moved everything up there. First rule of hunting is you gotta be where the critters are.

 

[WhistlingBadger]

While re-setting up my blind that first evening, I met one of the locals. He was giving off distinct "What the #&^! are you doing in my yard?" vibes. I kept a discreet distance, and we quickly developed a mutual understanding: I leave him alone, and he doesn't gnaw my toes off. It worked for us.

 

[WhistlingBadger]

Cows are extremely helpful. Was there an antelope getting a drink back there? I'll never know. After a few hours (and a few well-thrown rocks) they accepted my presence and wandered off.

 

[WhistlingBadger]

Prairie thunderstorm, coming up fast. Got a little exciting that night, sleeping in the back of my truck. Amazing and beautiful. And just scary enough to be interesting.

 

[WhistlingBadger]

The antelope quickly got used to my blind, but they didn't particularly like the looks of it either, so they simply got their water up the hill a ways. That's the trouble with hunting a flowing water source. If I ever hunt this way again, I'll spend more time scouting and find a small water hole with no other water nearby. That way the goats have to come in close to get a drink.

Anyway, the second afternoon nothing was coming in and I got sick of my blind, so I drove up north to a big valley and tried to sneak up on a herd. Sneaking up on a herd of antelope? Yeah, forget it. But it was something to do.

This picture doesn't look like much, but it's a huge, well-watered valley, maybe three miles long by 1/2 mile across, covered with lush grass. It was like the pronghorn Serengeti. There were about two dozen antelope in there, along with a couple deer and something that I thought might have been an elk! (too far away to know for sure) And not a snowball's chance in the Sahara of getting close to any of them. But like I said...it was something to do.