Wheelchair-Friendly Wyoming
Andy Hahn 06.12.13
Elvis meets his fate
Clear skies and excellent visibility made Tuesday the best day to hunt antelope. We soon located a small herd in an oat field. Although used to farm machinery, the skittish speedgoats wouldn’t let the pickup get closer than 250 yards. Our guide shadowed the group and finally gave us a good opportunity at half that distance. We waited patiently for the dominant buck to present a broadside shot.
The big boy, whom Pat dubbed “Elvis,” kept chasing two young bucks away from his does. Pat showed his knowledge of antelope behavior by predicting their actions with an entertaining play-by-play commentary.
“Elvis is gonna chase off those other bucks…He’ll try to nick that one in the butt with his horns…Don’t worry, he’ll come back into range because the does stayed put…Here he comes…Now he’ll walk up to a doe, tilt his head back and say, ‘Look at my shiny horns.’ He’s in the clear now, so let him have it when he turns. The range is 120 yards.”
Pow-Whopp! We heard the bullet hit, then watched Elvis stagger and fall. With all due respect to Long John Baldry, we laid some serious boogie-woogie on the king of rock and roll.
When I touched that antelope’s horns I felt a rush of emotion at having finally fulfilled a longtime dream. Sharing the moment with a great friend made it even more significant. About an hour later I had the pleasure of watching Ron bag a fine speedgoat with a 200-yard shot.
Dream come true
I’ve learned the value of pacing myself on long trips, so on Wednesday we slept in, ate a hearty brunch (including generous portions of Pat’s “harsh” browns), and paid an unwelcomed visit to residents of the neighboring community—a prairie dog town!
Using my adaptive shooting gear on Pat’s custom .270 and Shepherd range-finding scope, Ron and I delivered 130-grain eviction notices to a dozen tenants. Looking through range-finding binoculars, Pat pinpointed distances and advised us how far left or right to hold to compensate for the stiff breeze. After nailing these 9-inch-tall targets at ranges from 100 to 350 yards, we felt confident about using the .270 for long shots at deer.
Two inches of fresh snowfall greeted us Thursday morning. After breakfast my wife bundled up, grabbed her camera and started walking along the ranch road toward the south. Pat, Ron and I got in the truck and headed north to the creek bottom in search of mule deer. Not far down the road, my wife surprised a pair of young bucks. About an hour later she heard a distant rifle report…
We saw a hefty 4-by-4 muley just a quarter-mile from the cabin, but he bolted before Pat could position us for a shot. Continuing slowly along the double-rut road, we eventually spotted four bucks at the base of a draw. One carried a much larger rack than the others so we waited for him to present a clear shot. He stood behind another buck, facing to the left. Just two steps and he’d be ours. But the big guy turned around to sneak through some brush and disappear in the draw.
Standing broadside at 310 yards, a dandy 3-by-4 gave us a golden opportunity that we just couldn’t pass up. Ron held the crosshairs steady, I squeezed my trigger release and we dropped the buck with one shot from the .270. Fresh snowfall, an invigorating chill in the air and the thrill of hunting mule deer with a great friend created a memorable scene that will always shine as a highlight of our trip.
Our Wyoming adventure taught me that dreams can indeed come true, but nobody delivers them to your doorstep. Despite my disability, I was inspired to keep planning hunts and putting forth the effort to achieve my goals.
