Mule Deer, Coyotes, and Jackrabbits on One Hunt? Try One Day.
After a 4 hour drive from Phoenix, Chris Webb and I pulled into camp. It was
not yet dark. The desert was much different than that around Phoenix. Down
here, tucked along the Mexican border, it seemed more like the Kalahari Desert:
lots of scrub brush and thicker than you might imagine a desert to be. Even the
soil was like the Kalahari; instead of the hard packed gravel of the Sonoran
desert, this was covered with red soil. And permission to trespass was a lot
easier: there were few cacti.
An incessant wind blew as we began to unload the camper trailer. Camp chairs
went around the fire ring, a giant gas grill for cooking went nearby, and
sleeping bags were arranged on the camper beds. In less than 15 minutes we had
a fine, comfortable camp.
“Do you want tacos or spaghetti for dinner tonight?” Chris asked.
I thought for a few minutes. I dawned on me that we were near Jack O’Connor’s
old stomping grounds. One of my favorite O’Connor stories is titled, “We Shot
the Tamales.” I thought, “This close to Mexico, who could order spaghetti?”
“Tacos,” I responded.
I told Chris I wanted to check the zero of my rifle. I set up a drink cup on a
bush at a lasered 200 yards. It was very quickly turning dark, but I could
still see the cup. The wind was blowing hard, left to right, so I thought it
best to put the crosshairs on the left edge of the cup. I fired using sitting
with a bipod and sling. As the boom settled over desert in twilight, I marched
up to inspect my target- one bullet drilled through the center of the cup, but
perhaps one inch low.
I walked back to the trailer, stored the gun and popped open a beer while Chris
fried hamburger for the tacos. We reviewed the plan for the next day. Frankly,
I was glad to have a guide, for I had no idea how I would hunt this country
otherwise.
We both slept fitfully that night and awoke an hour before dawn. We skipped
breakfast and headed out toward some nearby hills. It would be light very
quickly, and the thought occurred to me that we were getting a late start. I
should have known better…
“Let’s approach that saddle,” Chris whispered softly. “Deer often bed down in
front of it.”
I was testing the new laser rangefinder binoculars from both Bushnell and
Leupold. Chris had the Bushnell’s around his neck, while I had the Leupold
version around mine. I quickly ranged to the top of the saddle and the hills on
either side, then halfway down. Any animal halfway down the hill could be no
farther than 250 yards, a potshot for a varmint hunter.
I had no sooner finished with the rangefinder when Chris blurted, “Deer! Bunch
of big bucks.”
Chris had his binocular up. “Okay, take the second buck in the group. He is
wide – 28 inches.”
I plopped down on the ground, thrust my left arm through the sling, tightened
the keeper, and jammed my left hand into the front swivel stud. With my right
hand I pushed the buttstock of my Remington Model Seven into the pocket of my
shoulder and pushed the safety forward.
As I looked through the scope, all I could see was deer with antlers. I tried
hard not to look at antlers, instead drawing aim on the second buck in the
group. My position, sitting with a tight sling, was rock steady, and I was glad
I had taken the extra few seconds to get into it. I planted the crosshairs
behind the buck’s shoulder and pressed the trigger. Deer busted into a run all
over the place as the boom of the rifle shot shattered the morning stillness.
“You missed!” blurted Chris. “The big one is running away. No wait, a deer is
down. Good shot.”
I began to think otherwise. “I hope I shot the right one,” I told Chris.
I prayed to God that I shot the right deer as we walked up to the deer. Once
before, in Namibia, I shot the wrong animal. A gemsbok stepped right in front
of the animal at which I was aiming and I killed him. As I walked up to the
deer, it became obvious that I had indeed shot the wrong animal. He was a young
forkhorn. Chris was clearly disappointed and immediately blamed himself.
We came up with all kinds of theories to explain the miscue. Chris said the
deer were in two clusters, and perhaps I shot the second one in the second
clump.
I thought about it. I had cranked my scope to 14x when aiming at the deer, and
in so doing, probably created a field of view that was too narrow. I was
feeling a bit sick…that big deer was an easy 28 inches wide. Chris was feeling
worse.
We dragged the deer down the hill to the truck. We met two hunters coming in
who had hunted the area six years and never so much as saw a buck. Now, I don’t
know what kind of hunters these guys were, but other than being patient, they
clearly did not know what they were doing, as Chris had put all of his hunters
on good deer the first few days of each of the staggered seasons he hunted.
These guys would have been miles ahead by simply hiring a guide. Even seasoned
hunters who find themselves in a new geography would be well advised to hire a
guide.
The day promised to be warm, so we skinned the deer out. I have a house full of
trophies, and while a nice mule deer is one of the world’s finest trophies, I
wasn’t going to ruin a freezer of meat by lamenting my bad luck. There would be
other days for big trophy deer, but now we had meat to put up. We hoisted the
deer on the tailgate of the pickup and in no time had him skinned out.
After a quick breakfast of fried eggs and bacon, we headed out to shoot
jackrabbits. The place Chris had selected for this hunt was covered with
jackrabbits. Any Jack O’Connor fan knows the old school master liked to shoot
running jacks. For readers who have never hunted them, picture a rabbit two to
three times bigger than a cottontail that runs with an even gait. Because
jackrabbits run very smoothly, unlike the darting, jumping cottontail, they make
great practice for running targets. On average, we jumped a jack every twelve
minutes – no kidding, I kept track on my watch. I didn’t roll every one I saw,
or even a quarter of them, but I did manage to connect on a few.
That evening Chris and I set up a few coyote stands. Chris is adept at using
both mouth calls and electronic calls, and we used both methods to lure in some
dogs. I told Chris to shoot as well along with me, and we rolled dogs that
night as well as the next morning. Having two guns along, or even three, really
ups the odds for shooting a coyote before he sees you.
We used a FoxPro starling distress call to call in my coyote that evening.
After a few busted stands, we were down to our last one of the day. The sun had
already set when I spied a coyote standing in the twilight 30 yards away. I
quickly shouldered my rifle, planted the crosshairs on its chest, and pulled the
trigger. The shot was a bit higher than I intended, but the dog was dead.
The next morning we again worked through a few busted stands before Chris called
in a coyote that came to his left. I heard his big .300 Remington Ultra Mag
(that is what he uses for coyotes) boom and suddenly saw a coyote sprinting dead
away from us – an easy going away shot but just as I was ready to pull the
trigger Chris flattened him on the run. It was a wonderful shot to make up for
what he admitted was a lousy first one.
Arizona may not be the first state that comes to mind for combo hunts, but it
should be. It must be near the top of the list in terms of sheer numbers of
coyotes, and in my mind, there is no finer quarry than a coyote. I have hunted
the world, yet never get bored hunting coyotes. And in Arizona, you find them
everywhere. A month before the deer hunt mentioned above, Chris gave me some
advice on how to fill my turkey permit. I had but two days to fill it, so my
hopes were not high. I found a few canyons that looked pretty isolated and
selected a rim lined with clumps of acorn-bearing oaks. I had barely walked 300
yards when I heard a turkey gobble. I remember thinking it could have been
someone trying to gobble in a tom, even though it was fall, not summer.
I slowly made my way toward the source of the commotion. Suddenly, a turkey
flushed, flying about 30 yards toward the canyon rim. I was not sure where he
went, but I took up a stand about 40 yards from where I last saw him. Imagine
my surprise when not ten minutes later I spied a coyote popping over the canyon
rim!
The coyote was moving quickly. How I wished for a varmint call. “But wait,” I
thought, “I do have one.”
Tucked in my military fatigue shirt breast pocket was a rabbit distress call. I
put the call to my lips, gave my best impression of a dying rabbit, and got
ready. In less than 10 seconds that coyote poked his head through some brush 20
yards away. The shotgun felt like a sack of potatoes as I threw it to my
shoulder. The dog started to run. I swung the shotgun as if I was taking a
swipe at my beloved quail or grouse…there was not much time. I pulled the
trigger and rolled the coyote. He was still moving, so I let him have it
again. But imagine my surprise when I walked up to the canyon rim and saw a
huge tom fly out of the tall pines right above my head!
Arizona has perhaps the most varied climatic conditions in the United States.
It lacks the tropical conditions found in the warmer US climes, but it has
desert, high desert, alpine forest, tundra (admittedly limited), scrub oak, and
a few others I am missing. Best of all, coyotes are distributed over just about
all of the state, meaning that no matter what big game tag might be in pocket,
you can always go coyote hunting after the hunt – icing on the cake, as success
rates for Arizona big game are extremely high. I hunted turkeys in a great elk
area. But that area also has lots of coyotes – each night during that hunt I
was awakened by both bugling elk and yipping, howling coyotes. Coues deer and
desert mule deer are, of course, found in the desert and high desert, favorite
stomping grounds for coyotes and often good country for jackrabbits, although
jackrabbits, unlike coyotes, are not found behind every bush in Arizona.
Field testing the new laser rangefinder binoculars
On my hunt with Chris Webb I brought along two new laser rangefinder binoculars
as well as the Leica 1200. I also brought the Bushnell and the Leica with me on
a hunt to New Zealand a few weeks later.
Testing such equipment in the field is a great excuse to go hunting, but I am
sure most hunters would rather hear about methodical tests. For example, on my
hunt in New Zealand, I hunted with a .300 SAUM. It was the same rifle I used
with Chris Webb. In New Zealand I shot a chamois at 205 yards and a tahr at 260
yards. Big deal. I would suspect 90% of the readers of this magazine would
have had identical success. To me, what is more important is accuracy testing
at long ranges fired under hunting conditions. For example, how easy can I hit
a paper plate at 400 yards with that SAUM? Or what about wind drift at 500
yards?
The same holds true for rangefinders. The Leica and Bushnell both ranged tahr
at 500 yards, but we didn’t see any beyond that. As usual, I thought it best to
set up some tests under hunting conditions to evaluate these two pieces of
equipment. I did this over two different days, in different locations, and
different sun exposures. I have found laser rangefinders degrade quickly in the
bright sun of Arizona. On the first day of testing we had relatively moderate
UV counts (which I use to gauge sun intensity) but blowing winds appeared to
kick up lots of dust. On that day, neither Chris nor I could get either of the
two LR binoculars to range past 730 yards. We could not get the Leica 1200 in
my kit to range that far either.
When I returned to my house in Tempe, I grabbed both LR binoculars as well as my
Leica Geovid and headed out to the desert. The sky appeared much brighter, and
much to my surprise, both the Bushnell and Leupold ranged to rocks just past 800
yards. The Geovid was able to range to rocks and cacti to 1230 meters, which is
over 1300 yards. In fact, that device was able to discern the distance of a
saguaro cactus and a nearby rock at over 1200 meters even though just 3 meters
separated the two. Try that at half the distance with any other rangefinder.
But truth be told, either of these LR binoculars are just fine for hunting. They
may not pick off a PD at 500 yards standing on a mound, but for most purposes,
they work just fine, with one exception. The only problem I experienced with
either was a tendency on the part of the Leupold’s display to wash out in bright
light. Leupold needs to fix this and until they do, I can’t really recommend
you buy them. What I don’t like about either is weight and bulk. They are not as
heavy and bulky as the Geovid, but I find that I prefer a separate hand-held
rangefinder such as the Bushnell 1000 or Leica 1200.
Field testing the Knothole Designs shooting bench
The highlight of my summer is a trip to the Jamboree. It is great to rub elbows
with fellow hunters and shooters and learn from others. This past August I took
time out of my schedule to give a presentation on long-range shooting – not that
I am any more a subject matter expert than many readers, but John Anderson asked,
so what could I do? After the my speaking session I joined Gordy Gritters in
the bar for a cold frosty pop and met Ron Montgomery, the first shooter to win
both the Open and Modified classes at the shootout. Winning a shooting
competition is the ultimate high, and if you ever meet someone in a bar who has
just won, get close, because he or she is buying the beer. Ron was no exception,
and while I washed down prairie dust with the nectar of the Gods, Ron jabbed a
finger at me and said, “I listened to your speech. The only thing I have to say
is shoot big bullets fast.”
He looked a little bit like Bill Clinton telling us that he did not have sex
with that woman, but in this case, I believed him. I even subscribe to the
theory of big bullets myself. When you go to the shootout you get to exchange
ideas with shooters better than you, and that is how you learn. You also get to
visit vendors with wares to sell that just might make you a better shooter.
Take, for example, a portable shooting bench from Knothole Designs. Jim Gotch,
owner of the company, showed me a unique table that I just had to have. I have
never liked portable shooting benches, but I was sold on this one in five
minutes. Mine arrived shortly after I returned to Phoenix. I then used it to
work up a variety of loads.
I often shoot at a public shooting range, but in Arizona there are plenty of
places to shoot on public land. The problem, of course, is that you don’t have
shooting benches. The Knothole Designs shooting bench performed perfectly
satisfactorily for me. You can order one by calling Jim Gotch at (307)
467-5635. Jim charges less than $100 for these. I highly recommend them; if
you buy one and aren’t satisfied, contact me - I would like to know why. It is
the best value in a portable shooting bench I have ever seen.
