skydiver_99654 (Johnny) and I headed out Saturday morning for our weekend bou hunt. The plan was to set up camp and then scope out the area for animals. Saturday was miserable, it rained and rained and rained. The swamps and bogs were awful and full of water. The trend of the ride in was stuck, winch, and drain the johnson. After camp was set we drove around until we were just down right sick of the rain. Soaked from head to toe we headed back to the tent for some zzzZZzz's and a sign of hope the storm would blow over. After a couple hours we hear a couple atv's drive by. Great we have competition. We ate some food, glassed a bit from the tent and then hit the sack thinking of bou.
Johnny wakes me up and I poke my head out of the tent, partly sunny. We eat and head to the valley we wanted to glass. If we saw no bou we would climb the mountain and glass the next valley over. Once we get close to the first valley we see two lonesome atv's without riders. We figure they are glassing another valley to the south. We head down the trail for a couple minutes when we see a hunter at the bottom of the valley climbing up. Then we glass the hill side and spot four bou half way up the hill side. Johnny and I couldn't figure if he was going after the bou we spotted or another animal farther up the mountain we couldn't see. The wind was not in his favor and we knew he was in a bad position if he planned to take one of the bou. He stood out like a sore thumb against the green and brown hillside and the bou would either wind him or spot him before he would have a chance at a shot.
We decided to head to a ridge line directly below the caribou. At this point the caribou are a good mile away. Suddenly I see two other hunters hidden in the rocks at the point we we planned to sit. Now the hunter climbing the hill is almost horizontal with the bou. Long story short the caribou either wind him or see him. The four bou bust rump downhill and stop after a couple hundred yards. We see the hunter shoulder his rifle and fire a round. The ground explodes roughly five feet behind the caribou in the back of the small herd. That was enough to convince the bou to turn on the after burners and head to Canada. The bou are now heading straight towards us. We grab our rifles and continue to wait watching the bou hoofing towards us like running of the bulls. Now the bou are a mile away from the hunter climbing the hill and atleast half a mile away from the other two hunters in the rocks, The other hunters lost their chance and considering the circumstances I wasn't about to let these bou run right by me without taking a shot. Johnny let me have first shot and now it's game time.
The bou came within 200 yards directly in front of us. Once they spotted us they made a b line to our direct right crossing a filled in and grown over pond. The four bou are in a dead sprint, I'm leading one in my scope. I pull the trigger, BOOM. Darn, the bou is still running. I lead it again, BOOM. It's still running. I lead it again, BOOM. The bou dropped right after the bullet connected, and the rest is history.
We dress the bou, and find two bullets connected. Johnny and I put the meat on the racks of my atv, and head back to camp. Instead of hunting another day we decided to pack up and head home so the meat does not spoil. Not bad for two days, one night, and one bagged bou.
I've had more bad experiences with hunting partners than good experiences. Those times have made me leary of new hunting partners. I can confidentally say Johnny was a great hunting partner and good company in the field. You don't find people like that too often.
The first two pics are of the ride in and camp.