Alberta Wildlife Stories Volume 1

FEATURED STORIES

Page 6

Bearcamp With My Boy

Geoff Dorward

Page 12 The Bowl

Austin Lunde

Page 18

Early Season Precision

Hunter Friesen

Page 22 The Highest of Highs

Tyler Slager

Page 27 The Catch of a Lifetime

Andy Henderson

Page 30

Lessons Learned

Zack Hayes

Page 35 A Blessing in Disguise

Kyle Short

Page 40 The Next Generation

Jonathan Lehman

A NOTE FROM THE EDITORS

Aaron Storr & Luke Squires

In the course of 2023 the Alberta Wildlife Stories Podcast launched and began to chronicle the stories of unforgettable wild game taken from our province by amazing locals and visitors from around the world. As a complimentary addition to the podcast, we decided to create the Alberta Wildlife Stories magazine With this we strive to give people another way to tell their stories and learn about our beautiful province You will find stories from Alberta's history interwoven with some of the most recent successes that we can not wait to share.

BEAR CAMP WITH MY BOY

ByGeoffDorward

AlifelongdreamhuntforGeoffs’son Jax,madepossiblebyhisfather, familyfriends,andaloveforthe outdoors

since he was a young boy Jax has always enjoyed the outdoors which consists of camping, quadding and hunting. Jax has also enjoyed all of these activities from the confines of his wheelchair. His disabilities might make it a little more difficult for him than it would for you or I, but it definitely doesn’t stop him. Obviously hunting from a wheelchair has its challenges and with limited mobility with his upper body, getting the perfect situation with the perfect shot on an animal sometimes seems damn near impossible. Hunting bear on a bait site seemed like a perfect opportunity for Jax to harvest his first bear.

I talked with Jax about going out on a bear hunt to see if he was interested. Of course his eyes lit up, his grin grew larger and within a few minutes he pretty excited of the possibility of getting out in the woods and spending a few days in bear camp. Our existing sites that we hunt bear at were all set up as either single man tree stands or platform stands 15 feet up in the air. With Jax being 17 years old, and the size of a full grown man it was not possible for me to carry him up into the areas we already had set up. I have carried him up ladders into stands when he was a little bit younger and smaller, but there comes a time when I am not physically able to get him into certain areas. I can still lift him on and off the quads and get him into ground blinds but getting up into tree stands wasn’t going to happen.

With help from my friends Tim & Scott we set out early in the season to set up a perfect spot for Jax to hunt bears from. We scoped out a couple of different areas and finally found an area where we believed that we could make everything work in his favor. This would be an area where Jax would be set up on the ground with a 40 yard shot to where the baits were set up. We did some bush clearing to clear a shooting lane, mounted a couple of bait drums

to the trees and laid out our “secret attractants”. Jax has special handicap permit that allows him to discharge his weapon from a vehicle (quad). We decided that it would be best for him to hunt directly from his quad so that he was comfortable, and also able to start it and take off should any

bears decide to charge.

For this we constructed a blind that Jax was able to park the quad behind and it would conceal the quad and any movement we made during the hunt. By the time we had this site set up we were convinced that it would produce an opportunity for Jax to see some bears up close and hopefully give him a chance to harvest a mature bear. We baited the area, set up a trail cam and left We would return every week for the next few weeks to fill the drums with fresh bait and check the trail cam. Every week the bait was hit hard and there were many bears showing up on the camera. When we replenish our baits we do it every weekend and we bait all of our 9 sites. It’s definitely physically demanding and a full days work. Jax wanted to be a part of it all, from setting up his new site, to baiting and asking questions and learning about how and

why we do what we do out in the woods. He came out for his first day of baiting and was a trooper By the end of the day he was exhausted and snored in the truck the whole way home.

After lots of anticipation and preparation the weekend finally came where a small group of friends would assemble at bear camp with hopes to see some bears up close and perhaps a chance to harvest a couple as well. The weekend was a wet and soggy weekend. It had rained for a couple of straight days leading up to Friday and when we arrived Friday evening as you could imagine, everything was muddy and soaking wet. We set up camp which consisted of a canvass wall tent and an enclosed trailer to keep everything dry It rained all of Friday night and into Saturday morning. Just after breakfast we all headed out to freshen up the baits in preparation for Saturday night hunt. In the rain we quadded to the sites, packed in buckets of bait while tromping through the mud. We got all the baits loaded up and headed back to camp Normally during the day we would set up some targets and take a few shots to practice, sight in and simply kill time until we headed out for the evening hunt The rain continued to pour all day, the ground had large soupy puddles everywhere and we attempted to stay dry while setting up camp within the enclosed trailer. It was raining so hard that at times I thought that getting Jax out for an evening hunt that night would seem impossible. Cold, wet, windy, sitting still until sundown didn’t sound like a fun time but the hard work and planning going into this hunt kept Jax determined. At about 430pm mother nature decided to cooperate and the rain let off We loaded up the quad with our essensials; rifle, tripod, thermocell, rain gear and snacks and headed off to sit for the evening.

We got to the site and settled in. I made sure that the tripod was set up accurately for Jax to have a clear shot at where we expected the bears to enter from. Jax has limited upper body mobility so he uses the tripod for supporting the front of the rifle and can swing slightly from left to right to ensure he is lined up properly. Brett (son of Scott) came with us to the site as he wanted to be part of Jax harvesting his first bear, and besides I could probably use his help should we get a bear down. As Jax has never harvested a bear I told him that it is completely up to him as to which (if any) bear to harvest Big or small it was his choice. About 30 minutes after we were set up the site started to heat up with some action. The first bear came out sniffed around the bait for a while He was a younger bear, not a bad size but not a large bear. Jax whispered to me “that one looks a little small – should I shoot it ?” I quietly whispered back to him that it was completely his choice. He responded with “that ones too small, he needs to get bigger”. I knew at that moment that he understood it wasn’t just about getting out in the woods and killing something. He realized that even in the excitement of seeing his first bear at 40 yards his ethics and morals were solidified and he wanted a larger more mature bear. This bear continued down the path making its way directly to our blind.

At about 20 yards, I spoke the all common words “Hey Bear !” to get his attention He stopped momentarily and continued on towards us. A little louder this time I yelled “Hey Bear !!”. This time he stopped, turned and wandered off into the bush. Jax’s eyes wide open, his lungs breathing deeply and his heart racing he says to me “That was close !” We sat quietly and had our heads on swivels peering through the woods to keep an eye open for other bears making their way into the area. Not long after a sow and 3 cubs made their way to the bait The cubs played around the drums, climbed some trees while mom took a few pieces of meat from the drums to chew on. They made their way through the bush and came out about 20 yards to our left. This was a little intimidating with the sow and cubs that close to us on the ground. We remained quiet and watched again as the cubs climbed trees and played in the woods. The sow definitely knew we were there but didn’t seem to feel threatened. We handed Jax the phone to record some video while Brett and I had the rifles ready in case mama bear decided charge our way. We got some great video and some fantastic memories before the foursome of bears left the area. Not more than 10 minutes go by from when the sow and cubs left and a large bear makes his way up from behind the bait drums.

I could tell that this was a good bear and he had some good size on him. As the bear spent some time at the first drum Jax was able to have a good look at him and whispered to me “that ones a big one – should I shoot that one?” Again I told Jax that it was up to him, even though in my head I was saying definitely shoot that bear ! Jax made the decision that should a shot present itself that he would pull the trigger on this one.

The bear turned and was walking from one drum to the other. Completely broadside from us at 40 yards he stops and puts his head down. It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly. It wasn’t moving, it wasn’t behind a tree or brush. It’s in the clear, it’s broadside and standing still. Jax is dialed in on him and ready. He pulls the trigger and makes the shot! The bear dashes off into the bush and out of sight. Again wide eyed, breathing heavily and heart racing Jax asks “Did I get it ?” I’ve seen Jax shoot lots over the years and he is deadly accurate, so I ask him back “Were you locked in on him ? Was it a good shot ?” He responds with him.

yes – all the way”. I told him “well then you got him – I trust your shooting”. We gave it 5 minutes and didn’t hear anything moving or even the death cry that bears sometime let out. I left Brett and Jax at the quad and I proceeded to walk over and locate the bear. I found Jax’s bear lying expired 20 yards from where it was shot. I went back to the quad and told him the good news. On the quad Jax made his way over to where his bear laid. His smile was as big as I’d ever seen it and the excitement was written all over his face. Not even the rain could wash off his smile or dampen this experience for him

As we rode the quad through the rain and the mud back to camp I was overjoyed and very emotional that I got to share this experience with my son. One of those many memories you know will never fade. The memory of the rain, seeing the variety of bears up close, seeing the excitement of Jax harvesting a mature and large bear and all while sharing the weekend with great friends will be forever engraved into my memories.

A Call for Volunteers

If you care about the outdoors, wildlife and the environment, volunteer with Ducks Unlimited Canada (DUC) Volunteering is a great way to turn your passion for conservation into action and make a meaningful difference for wetlands and wildlife across the country.

Volunteering with DUC doesn’t have to be a big commitment. By lending a hand when you can, acre by acre, we can leave a lasting impression on the landscape.

Alberta Conservation Success

Albertans have a strong connection to the land. From native prairie grasslands, to the

parkland

the

our landscape and environment supports our way of life, ourwell-being and our economic prosperity

2,832 2.8 MILLION

(cumulative) HABITAT PROJECTS ACRES CONSERVED (INCLUDING 1,156,960 ACRES RESTORED)

445,374

ACRES INFLUENCED

DUC is actively looking to rebuild our network of volunteers and committees in your area. If you’re interested in becoming a volunteer or starting a committee, contact us today!

Elke DuBois –

Manager of Corporate and Volunteer Fundraising, Ducks Unlimited Canada

aspen

to

boreal forest,

THE BOWL

ByAustinLunde

Story

Austin’sspot-and-stalkmuledeer storyprovidesmanyreasonstowhy wehunt.

to the in-law’s creek farm for an evening hunt in mid-September. It was a warm day and there was a strong, steady prevailing west wind. The strength of the wind had almost prevented me, an inexperienced bowhunter, from going hunting. Not only was I an inexperienced bowhunter, overall, I was an inexperienced hunter. This was however the first year that I was bow hunting and starting to go out solo.

Because of the steady west wind I approached from the east. Once in the creek I spotted a young Mule buck standing up out of his bed which was situated in a low spot along the creek Good news though, we were on the same side of the creek, this was a good start. I watched as this buck was stretching, pooping, and then rubbing his small antlers on some poplar saplings. The buck was southwest of me, I had the wind in my favor for a spot and stalk hunt.

The buck started walking north. He would be headed into an old dry oxbow of the creek, that I refer to simply as ‘The Bowl’. This particular spot is higher in the middle and the middle is covered in knee high brush with game trails running through it. Around this high spot runs in a smooth arc is the old creek bed, which is grassy. The north and east sides are high grassy banks that are bowl shaped, hence the name. The west is bordered by woods with thick underbrush, and after a small rise in the land another old oxbow that has a beaver run in it. The south side of the bowl is very thick 7-foot-tall brush that drops off as a cliff to the creek.

Once the buck started heading to ‘The Bowl’ he went out of sight behind the thick brush on the south side of the bowl. I headed into the south east corner of The Bowl and started moving along the tall brush on the south side, expecting to come face to face with the buck. I was in a

well-used game trail in the knee-high brush. I got to the high spot in the middle of the bowl and didn’t spot the buck, I figured he had slipped into the woods and the next oxbow to the west, I started moving that way to see if I could catch up.

All of the sudden I caught movement in my prereferral vision I immediately stopped The buck seemed to appeared out of nowhere on the north grassy slope, he was carelessly feeding. I surmised that the buck walked through the low spot of the oxbow which, to my surprise, has enough change in elevation that it concealed him. I was on the high middle spot of and was completely exposed and outside of comfortable shooting range. I needed to figure out a way to get closer.

“the bowl”

As the buck’s head was down and he was feeding I started painstakingly walking toward him as slowly as I could. The knee-high brush was noisy and hard to push through because I was no longer on a game trail. The brush was catching my pants and hiking boots. As annoying as it was though, the brush probably helped conceal my movement from the buck’s vision, and the strong wind was helping to cover the noise. The sun was starting to slide down the western sky and as the light was beginning to change so was the wind. What started as a steady, reliable west wind was now beginning to swirl around.

Every now and again the buck must have been catching some of my scent. He would lift up his head and stare at me. I had no choice but to immediately freeze in my tracks, even if I was mid step with one foot off the ground This was a real test of strength and patience. Every staring contest we had seemed to get longer and longer as the buck grew warier of my presence. I eventually got close enough that I figured I was in shooting distance; my guess was that we were

50 meters apart. I didn’t want to have all the extra movement of pulling out my range finder to double check.

The buck had been moving across the face of the north bowl and my feet were not situated so that it would leave me with a comfortable shooting position. I started to square my feet up to the buck, he saw movement and locked eyes on me yet again. It felt like an eternity, but in reality, it probably was five minutes or less until he broke his gaze. The bucks head went down to the grass for another mouthful, and he was standing broadside. This was my chance.

I was dead calm and my breathing was steady, my hands were not betraying me with any shaking. I had been in the presence of that deer for so long that the initial excitement had worn off. I drew my bow back and started lining up for a lung shot. Everything felt right so I let the arrow fly. Up until the moment my arrow left the string I was calm and confident.

As the arrow was arcing toward the deer the adrenaline dumped. Up until now time had seemed to crawl, now it was passing by so rapidly that it seemed to be trying to make up for its previous slowness. I heard the distinct sound of the arrow smacking into flesh The Mule buck sprinted westbound for the safety of the trees and he was gone. My previous confidence shattered. Trying to replay what had just happened I couldn’t remember seeing the deer bleeding or limping or flagging speed. I couldn’t remember seeing the arrow making impact. I worried that I had missed and spent all that time and energy for nothing. Even worse, I began to fear that I had injured the animal with a bad shot.

I collected myself and made my way over to where the buck had been standing. Right where he had been, I found my arrow. The whole length of it was coated in bright red blood. Waves of relief washed over me because I knew then that this was going to turn out alright. I snapped a picture of the bloody arrow and sent it first to my wife Amanda, no caption, she knew that I would be needing her to bring the truck. I then sent the picture to my hunting buddy Grant, his response was “Call me”. After we spoke on the phone, I heeded his sage advice; I sat down and waited for half an hour. Again, time slowed down, seconds passed like minutes, stress began grow.

I had been out bow hunting several times before this, and this was my first year hunting solo I was ill prepared for an evening hunt I must not have had any faith in my skills because I did not bother packing a flashlight, a mistake I will never make again. Dusk had come and things were getting too dark for tracking blood My inlaws were out of town, but my brother-in-law

was spending the night at the farm, what luck. I called Andrew, I asked if he could help by bringing me some good flashlights out of the massive collection my father-in-law keeps. I described where I was in the creek and now had to wait even longer than the initial half hour, night had come.

I must not have communicated very well because Andrew didn’t find me immediately, after another conversation he found me but had walked out of the bush where I last saw the buck. We started trailing blood, it was a good trail and easy to follow even on the fall leaves and grass. Partway through our tracking we were joined by Amanda. We found the buck dead, he was laid down in an area of large cottonwoods with no underbrush. Andrew would have walked right past him to find me The buck had run for about 150 meters before piling up.

Although neither Andrew or Amanda had ever been hunting before I was thankful for their help with field dressing in the dark. Andrew held the buck’s legs for me while Amanda held the flashlight. They were both surprisingly curious and not too disgusted with the process. I was especially grateful for Andrews help in dragging the buck up the creek bank

We were both winded when we got him up to the truck. He was a big bodied deer for only being a forkie.

Amanda had brought the kids along and it was very exciting for them to see us loading a dead deer into the truck. This hunt was special for a lot of different reasons. It was my first archery kill, my first Mule Buck, my first solo hunt, my first kill on the family’s land, and most importantly my first kill shared with my family.

Although his antlers were small, I learned how to Euro the skull. The forkie mule buck hung on my wall as a reminder of my blessings. I would find myself staring at it and reminiscing about the hunt while we would be eating supper as a family, the kids would always ask if our meal came from that deer. My skills as hunter were growing and I was determined to keep providing for my family through these means.

EARLY SEASON PRECISION

Story ByHunterFriesen

Afterbeingwinded,Hunterhadasplit secondopportunitythatleadtohis firstarcherybuck!

hunting season was off to a great start with getting my first bear and first bow kill. At this point I had my sights set high with the upcoming three hunting months in Alberta I did also acquire a passion for bow hunting after the achievement from the taste of this new way of hunting.

I started shooting a bow when I was little, but never picked up a bow again till I was 16 and ready to experience it again. My main ambition for the challenge was getting a velvet mule deer. Of course though it proved difficult but nonetheless a big learning experience. I wasn’t fully committed to the bow at the time but knew what I wanted to do wouldn’t go without some hard work.

said he was the one to shoot. He then ghosted me and didn’t see him till September. At the time it was heartbreaking not to see him again but I was confident in the other consistent bucks I had coming in.

I met Cory of C and D Archery about a year and a half ago through taxidermy and he sparked a new calling to the archery world in me. He worked with me and helped with getting me set up with a new bow after he took me out to get my bear. At this point I’m now committed to mule and whitetail deer hunting. Although my job of bird guiding would interfere a little with the chase, I still had three days to make something happen before bird guiding started.

I started hunting in a newer area this year, I had no idea what was there so I put up a camera. Didn’t have much luck to start but that slowly improved. I had traffic from mule deer and whitetail does. In this area I couldn’t hunt mule deer without a draw, so I was set on whitetail. I finally started getting some smaller bucks with a lot of potential in early August It was very encouraging and definitely some bucks I would shoot with a bow, just wasn’t quite what I was after. I soon enough got a picture of this beautiful buck. It had width, big brows and great character, so I was set to go after the buck. I sent photos of him to people and everyone

Then came the time to sit in the treestand and play the waiting game. It’s mentally tough to sit in the mornings and evenings, especially without seeing anything. Over the first two days I had it was discouraging because I only saw a small mule buck and a whitetail doe with twins. But the easy going, quiet sitting was everything you could ask for to be immersed in nature. I remember quite fondly of two owls hooting in the trees in the early second morning. But the day fell short with nothing to pack home. The third morning I started feeling unsure of this spot, although I finally got “the buck” on camera again from about 3:00 am. He ripped some of his velvet but I was still just as obsessed and I want to say I got a boost of confidence, but I just didn’t. I was working that afternoon and watching the weather turn breezy and cool, I told my boss I would indeed go sit. I remember specifically telling my coworkers and my girlfriend that this is the night something will happen. I waited patiently but was anxious for the few hours to come. I felt that this was my last chance to get a whitetail with my bow.

i released .

It then finally happened. I looked up from staring and trying to remain confident. The one I’ve been waiting for was there, never did I think I would get this opportunity. I grabbed my bow and got prepared, he was down wind of me and he knew something was up He had just a few steps to emerge from behind some small shrubs. He went back and forth a couple times from almost revealing the vitals to being covered by some thin bushes The choice was made to leave the way he came, which from observing closely I could see a small opening where if stopped right could prove fatal for him. As he approached the opening I drew back and did the deer stopping “mehp”. and looked to me like a great shot, he immediately bolted and I almost jumped out of the stand to find blood or the arrow. Upon approach I found the arrow with blood on it, I was so overjoyed that I called my dad to say I hit him. He came quickly to help restart the hunt of finding him, there was great blood at the start but soon faded to droplets. We then hit the time to come back tomorrow morning, I was left empty but still hopeful. I did manage to get some sleep that evening, and pursued the buck that morning. It was almost immediately that in the light I found him in the field about 400 yards from the trees I shot him in. It was the end of an amazing time in the tree stand and solo hunt , but the start of a great story to tell and a continued more passionate way to hunt

THE HIGHEST OF HIGHS

By Tyler Slager

Story

Majorsuccessfromthe treestandduringtheElkrut

fresh off

of a year where I finally killed my first bull elk with a bow, anticipations were high for what this season would hold. I wasn’t going twait fourteen years to arrow another bull. Like everyone else, watching the calendar, the weather, and even the moon phases, I booked my time off work to head into the woods. We were optimisticband morale was very high, as it typically is starting into the hunt

The first couple days showed that we were going to have to put in some work to find success. The bulls were calling but they weren’t fired up enough to the point of charging in for that confrontation most elk hunters dream of. We found ourselves in on vocal herds but often pinned down by cows on the fringe of the main group the bulls were tending to. It seemed like every encounter was destined for a crack at a bull until poof he’d disappear Crossing further down the trail, or refusing to come through our lanes altogether. The other blockade we’d run into was the dreaded swirling wind. But the run-ins we did have were enough to keep us motivated.

After choosing to hold off for two days in hopes the bulls would get more aggressive, and chasing other game instead, we were back at it. We found a group of elk with over forty cows, but when the bull stepped out was a measly 5x3 running the show. We were crazy to think he was about to abandon that harem in favour of our cow calls. He rounded them up and they vanished.

Waiting those two days ended up backfiring on us. The next two days not only could we not find an elk, but we couldn’t even hear any. It was time to try a new spot. It was a long aggressive hike to get into where we wanted to start looking, so we headed in well before sunrise hoping to potentially cut off some elk feeding later into the morning As we snuck down an old quad trail one of us stepped on a branch. Immediately following the loud crack of the branch a bull elk erupted with an angry bugle! we wandered right into them unknowingly. Given the situation it was automatically advantage: elk. The bruiser of a bull wisely placed himself on the other side of a spruce tree between him and us, giving us small glimpses of his antlers against the dawn sky.

He turned to take his herd to safety so we followed after them. We got one good look as they dropped down into the valley timber, but with the wind on our backs the elk had won again. We did attempt a play on the same herd the following day but yet again the wind foiled our plans.

and cows mewing nonstop. We found ourselves in between two herds and pinned down by cows. We worked the caller system as hard as we could. Raking brush, pawing the ground, screaming back at every bugle the bulls would let out. Finally we agitated the herd bull enough to get him up out of his bed. He was coming. Never in my hunting life have I seen a bull like this one It was something out of an old school hunting film watching him creep down the hill toward us. He was big for a reason. He didn’t see what he wanted to, and he wasn’t coming any closer to find out. He chased his herd off to safety.

Choosing to give that herd a break, I headed into the stand I killed my bull from the year prior. The night was slow but an hour before dark I spotted a big bull by himself a few hundred yards down the field edge. He acknowledged my calls but seemed to have his mind made up about where he was going This wasn’t working It was time to go after the elk that we knew were talking if we were to have a chance at putting one on the ground.

It was my eighth day chasing elk. Finally the wind was cooperating for us to go after the herd with the big bull we stumbled on four days ago. We called, they called back, but they didn’t want to stick around. So we dogged them hard. What did we have to It was the most intense action we’d encountered in ten days Bulls screaming

On day nine we went into the area I had thought the bull I saw from my tree stand was heading towards. That morning they were hot. Having introduced himself to the herd as a dominant bull, tensions were high and the bulls were ready for a fight. We got right in on what we thought was the herd bull but there was one big problem. I couldn’t see him. The bush was so thick that you couldn’t see more than five to ten yards. The bull was maybe twenty yards away, destroying trees and screaming at us but there was nothing we could do about it. As time passed he could tell something was off and started circling us. We raced him towards a cutline we knew he was going to cross in hopes of a shot, but he beat us to it. By this point, I found myself wondering if it was going to happen at all. This hunt was becoming very reminiscent of years past.

Time was ticking on the “archery only” season and with two days left until the rifle warriors were let loose I decided to go back towhere we were the previous day. Instead of taking the ground approach, today I was going to sit in a tree stand that we

where we were the previous day.

Instead of taking the ground approach, today I was going to sit in a tree stand that we knew the herd was funnelling past periodically. The decision was last minute and I didn’t give myself much time to sneak into the stand before sunrise. I hustled up the trail, listening to bulls bugle off towards the field beyond my tree stand, and quickly got myself and my camera gear set up. This is generally when I would do a quick morning interview on camera prior to sitting quietly to see what would happen, but I could hear elk calling and I could tell the herd bull was starting to usher his cows off of the field in my direction. I pulled my cow call out of my jacket and mewed twice. They were going to cross through the timber close to me but I wanted the bull to think a lone cow had strayed slightly off of the path he wanted it to take. As moments passed I could hear an animal slowly walking down the trail towards me. Just a black bear The idea of the bear potentially being the elk I was after had my heart racing, so I gathered my thoughts and calmed myself down. I needed to stay focused. The bugles from the herd bull continued but it sounded like he wasn’t going to pass by within my line of sight. That’s when a satellite bull let out a bugle of his own directly behind me. The herd bull changed course and I could hear him coming. He wasn’t about to lose the lone cow that I was pretending to be to this young bull. He approached quietly, trying to see the elk he was hearing As he broke through the willows I finally caught a glimpse of the 6x7 bull we had trail camera pictures of three weeks prior. He paused thirty yards from me, standing head on, and began mewing like a cow would. A small yearling bull walked out behind me and softly mewed back. He wasn’t the threat the herd bull was seeking. The small bull crossed underneath me and the herd bull was starting to lose interest so he circled around for one last look.

but things were starting to heat up. The satellite bull was pushing his stolen cows and a stampede was coming. As they rushed by my stand I was getting ready to shoot the satellite bull. I was not going to be picky. In all of the commotion I noticed the herd bull was headed right for the base of my tree. I turned again, this time to set up on him. I moved my camera one last time, came to full draw, and as the bull walked out from underneath my stand whistled softly to stop him and released my arrow straight down through the top of his shoulder blade. Every elk around crashed off through the trees which made it hard to tell what was happening with the bull I had just shot. After giving him more than an hour to expire we got on his blood trail to find that he didn’t make it fifty yards before piling up. From some of the lowest of lows to the highest of highs. My second archery bull elk and the start to what would be an amazing year to follow

THE CATCH OF A LIFETIME

By Andy Henderson

a true

memory to last a life time. July 15th

2023 was a day to remember. As any other year, day, or month, I was headed up north for my best friend Zayed's birthday. All he wanted to do was fish and find more fish. From the second the sun broke the horizon until the sun set, we didn’t stop fishing With many species in the lake to target, we went from chasing walleye off the docks, to sneaking into weed beds off the rocks, and tossed top water baits to entice pike to eat. What a day it was for sure. It was a day of steady big walleyes, very nice pike, and just in general lots of fish.

When dinner time rolled around we decided to do a little friendly derby. The rules were, you could fish anywhere on the lake, catch any species, but the biggest fish won So after a few hours of casting and finding some real nice fish, I decided to sit back and relax a bit and supervise the children that were also fishing. Within two minutes of relaxing someone hooked into a nice northern pike. It had been a while since a catch occurred and I started to wonder if this would be a trophy fish or a log I went to lean over the edge of the dock to assist with landing procedures when the fish decided to show itself I instantly jumped back and started searching for a net, and thought to myself, this thing is huge!

...

holy smokes!

The poor young girl who was fighting the fish panicked extensively and no longer wanted the responsibility of landing it. Scared of the rod snapping she handed it over to me. Knowing what was on the other end of the line, I screamed “let’s go baby, it’s go time!”

I proceeded to tighten up the drag on the Shimano reel and this amazing northern pike and I squared off for the chance of being top dog. After a couple minutes I managed to tire the old girl out enough for Zayde to get his fly fishing

net in the water and land this behemoth!

It was a grape fruit in a garden hose, but when you and your best friend want something bad enough, you make it work and that’s what we did! This beautifully coloured northern pike caught in northern Alberta came in measuring 46 inches long, and weighing a whopping 23 pounds. To be able to handle such a large fish, pushing over 25 years old, was a true honor.

LESSONS LEARNED

By Zack Hayes

AperfectshotthatstillleftZack secondingguessinghisactions

hunting

isn't only about success, it’s about the stories, memories and the adventure it takes you on Many life lessons can be learned from being out in the field. It teaches you patience, decision making, hard work and so much more. All the lessons hunting teaches you, can also go the other way. There are lessons and experiences that happen in your everyday life that can make you a better hunter. For myself, being able to perform under pressure and being able to learn from mistakes very quickly are two major lessons I can relate the most to that are both in hunting and being a professional hockey player These lessons were put to the test in the fall of 2023.

September 1st, I am back in my parents stomping ground celebrating my Grandma’s 90th birthday. Alarms come quick for archery season if you want to be in your position before the animals get moving. Fortunately I was able to go up a couple days early and place some cell cameras on some areas where my Uncle has seen some deer. On the days leading up to opening day the cameras are dead The movement of cattle and crops being taken off neighbouring fields early has really affected the animals. My hopes for these cameras capturing a deer diminished greatly.

Then all of a sudden three nights in a row, three different whitetail bucks show up, a nice symmetrical ten point, a tall skinny and wide eight , then a small six. Two of those bucks are for sure shooters but all showed up after the end of legal light. As the days go by, sitting in a self made ground blind every day waiting, hoping one of these two deer will slip up I am met with disappointment as that was the one and only time those deer were ever seen.

As the week goes by I decide to meet up and hunt with as many buddies as I can. This allowed me to see people I haven't seen in a long time as well as see plenty of different country. While I was there I was also up skating with a group of guys making sure I was staying prepared for an opportunity on a new contract for the upcoming hockey season This allowed me to take advantage of an opportunity to hunt longer than I usually could and make the best out of a situation I didn’t particularly want to be in. As the days go by there's plenty of miles driven and hiked, plenty of deer spotted and more blown stalks then I care to admit.

This bow hunting thing has really kicked my ass. Although I have had chances at both deer and bears with my bow over the years I wanted it to be the right one. As I am getting closer and closer to the end of my time for this hunting season, although I was down on myself I never let my hope waiver. I have made plenty of mistakes and learned so much about bow hunting over these last 5 days (as well as some early season hunting done on the north western side of the province in late August) I had a feeling it was going to pan out.

On the 6th day of the season I get a call from my buddy Mark. He is going to be done with work early today and asked if I wanted to come sit with him on a piece of property he managed to get permission on for us. Seeing moose and both mule and whitetail deer on this property for a couple days now, he had a pretty good idea where we should sit for the evening. So in the blazing mid afternoon heat as soon as he is done with work we head out to where we are going to spend the next four to five hours We drive down a little access road and park behind bushes keeping the truck hidden from the field. This field has a mixture of both taller standing canola

and shorter stalks. We walk around the edge of the property line around a pocket of trees and sit on the eastern side of this bush right behind a thin layer of grass, just off the edge of the shorter section of crop. It’s eighty yards straight across to the bushes where we expected the deer to be bedding and walk out from. There is also some bushes to the north of us which were across the fence line but still connected to the bush across from us. To our south was the main field with the taller canola and a small berm which blocked our vision out into a little bowl. Also there is some sort of building on a gravel lease about one hundred yards away

We sit and wait as the mosquitoes eat us alive, with no wind the bugs are out swarming and biting at the open skin we have and also through the thin layers of camo we have on to try and stay cool from the end of summer heat. Time passes and Mark is feeling confident the deer will be walking out in the next ten minutes as he has seen them come out every day around then. It’s almost like Mark told them to come out then because as soon as exactly ten minutes passes Mark spots something walking out from the woods towards the building. We both put our binoculars to our eyes and try to get a good look at him. A nice eight point, full velvet whitetail is making his way out of the bush towards the building Mark recognizes the buck as one of the four he has seen with one being smaller and two bigger ones with usually with him. He is alone, but still a shooter for me. He walks towards the building and I'm thinking in my head please turn towards us.

As soon as that thought pops into my head he turns and is walking our way. We have terrible cover but can't move now, we just have to stay still. As he walks in front of us broadside Mark continues to range him finally getting to forty yards which I feel very comfortable at. As he looks down to eat I draw back, line up my pins, and steady my arms. Somehow this is the calmest I have been since we saw him and I let my arrow fly. Connecting with my shot which looks perfect. He runs into the woods, arrow sticking out of him. We give it an hour and a half and make our way in following the blood, basically at a normal walking speed But as time passes, darkness settles over and we still haven’t found the deer. We are on consistent blood the entire time walking through some of the thickest bush I have ever walked through. Still good blood but no deer.

We get to a clearing and shine our lights out across to see if we can spot the deer bedded down. We see a blood splatter in front of us and talk five steps towards it, all of a sudden a big body jumps and bounds away Damn we just spooked him. We made the decision to back out and go hopefully find him in the morning. I get zero sleep that night as I run every situation through my head on what went wrong. I had an early morning practice so Mark and some buddies went to look for me. They walked to where the deer was bedded and to their surprise they found no blood at all. Just in case it was only bleeding internally, they grid search towards where we had spooked the deer the previous night Nothing Mark decides to go back down the blood trail and notices a second blood trail five yards back. He follows the trail and finds the buck stiff as a board forty yards off the original trail.

Thankfully they found him. Relief sets over as I was currently on my way out to help with the 33

search. I meet them back at the house and I finally get my hands on my first archery animal as well as my first velvet whitetail. Even though this hunting season was short I learned so much from it. The biggest lesson I learned is control what you can control. Prepare yourself the best way you can to give yourself the best chance to be successful. Whether that's putting in the extra work shooting and stickhandling in the backyard for hockey, teaching yourself a new skill for a new job or practising shooting a target for hunting. There's plenty of opportunities for you to give yourself the best chance for success in the field, as well as in life. You just have to have the motivation and desire to be the best at what you do.

A BLESSING IN DISGUISE

Story ByKyleShort

Thepersistencepaidoffhugefor Kylein2023withthisincredible buck

to properly

tell the tale of my 2023 whitetail season, I’ll have to take it back a couple years. To the evening of Nov 30, 2021, and a last ditch, hail mary of a hunt It had been a long season, filled with long sits, close calls and to many zigs when I should of zagged. After three months of hard hunting, I was burnt out with no desire to spend another minute sitting in a tree.

With that in mind and only a short post-work window left to hunt, I settled on the most tried and true whitetail bowhunting techniques. The ol’ “sit on the ground at the edge of field praying for a buck to walk by” technique. Arming myself with a bottle of Tinks 69, a grunt tube and a rather small but deer-ish looking 3D doe target, I raced to my spot and quickly set up. The only good thing about those post-work, mad dash sits at the end of November is that you don’t have to wait long for prime time, and it wasn’t long before deer began to filter by my little ambush. Some even coming in to sniff my decoy! I was actually started to feel somewhat optimistic about my chances.

However prime time quickly faded into panic mode time, as light and my hopes faded fast. With only 10 minutes left in my season I panned my eyes left and watched two does ghosting by me in the fading light, and right behind them to my surprise was a buck! While he wasn’t one of my target bucks, he had some good width, long brows, and at the end of a long season he wasn’t getting a pass. As the buck drew level with me at only 20 yards, I somehow got to full draw undetected. I was shocked, this was going to happen! With a classic “Meh”, from me the buck stopped perfectly broadside. I’ll never forget watching that beautiful red luminock glide in a perfect line, passing just over his vitals and his back to gracefully land 60 yards away in the field. The buck was as surprised as I was. Completely unscathed, he bounced off 100

metres looking back in my direction.

Retrieving my arrow, the whole herd of deer parted around me. The deer watched my end of season walk-of-shame back to my truck

Looking skyward as I passed though them, I laughed out loud.

Well, we can just fast forward to the start of this year and just skip the whole 2022 season and year completely It was another year of highs and lows, followed by some more lows, and ending up being the first year since the age of 14 that I did not harvest a single animal. So with a completely empty freezer, I entered the 2023 season with high hopes and maybe a slight sense of desperation to get things done. Of course, as Murphy would have it, I did not get off to the start I had been hoping for. The previous two years I had been on the ball with my scouting. I’d had cameras out early; deer targeted and stands up well in advance of the opening day. This year however, it just wasn’t working out. Life was going a hundred miles an hour and other priorities had consumed most, if not all, of my spare time and energy. Finally, halfway through August I was able to

throw out a few cameras. I began to get some pictures of a couple nice deer almost right away, including my nemesis from two years prior! Boy he had really grown up! He was a wide 4x4 with some great mass, and I knew immediately he would be target buck number one for me. With only a week to go before season I quickly threw up my stand on a main trail, trimmed a few lanes and waited for opening day

Meeting up the next day, we moved the whole set up to a small point of land 60 yards closer to where the deer were coming out. Waiting till mid-day we tried to be as stealthy as possible, but there is only so much stealth one can have moving around a clangy bunch of metal and sawing tree limbs. Needless to say, I didn’t have super high expectations that evening as I settled in for a sit But, as fortune would have it only an hour into my sit a group of 4 does worked their way into the field and began to feed, it was a good start.

As the does moved up further into the field I caught glimpse of a nice buck working through the tree line to my north! A beautiful tall 4x4 buck emerged from the tree line and began to feed only 75 yards away. I recognized him immediately, as the travelling companion of my target deer and as I caught movement behind him in the trees, my heart began to race! Sure enough, it was “Mr. Clean Miss” from 2021! Watching him step into the sunlight of that beautiful September evening in all his glory, is an image that will forever be burned in my mind.

Those first couple weeks in the season were rather uneventful in terms of any close encounters with bucks I sat every chance I could but all that I had come by were does and the odd moose. As September rolled on and after a quite a few sits, I began to learn the travel routes and more active trails around my stand. While the bucks were coming by from time to time, they were consistently skirting around me to the north about 100 yards. One night after my hunting partner had sat and watched all the deer once again come out into the field on that north trail, a quick strategy session over some beers had us concluding that we needed to move our stands up and onto the edge of the field.

Now this is where the beauty and frustration of bowhunting comes in. For the next hour I watched those two big bucks feed only 75 yards away Well beyond comfortable bow range for myself. And while frustrating to be so close yet so far, it truly was amazing to be able to sit and watch those deer at such a close and intimate range. It was the kind of experience that is such a big part of the “why”, for many of us who bow hunt. As the evening wore on, a few other deer entered the field including a couple smaller bucks, however with light fading it was becoming evident that the two bigger bucks were not going to be

coming my way, but rather were working their way back into the trees on the trail they had come in on. I watched helplessly as the smaller of the two bucks disappear into trees. My heart sinking as the big buck followed close behind. Suddenly movement caught my eye down and to my right! Coming through the tall slough grass 20 yards in front of my stand, was a young, heavy non-typical buck Looking up from the young newcomer, I saw my target buck freeze. Only steps away from the safety of the trees, turning to face this youngster who dared to have entered his field. In an instant the big buck turned and with his ears back he began to march, head held high, every stride stomped defiantly at the young intruder, and directly at me! My heart began pounding out of my chest as I could see he was on a direct course that would bring him by me at 30 yards.

I couldn’t believe what was happening, I was going to get a shot at my target buck! As he got to 40 yards I drew back and watched him take those last few strides right onto the 30-yard shrub that I had ranged earlier. I remember settling my 20-yard pin on him and thinking, “nope bring it up Kyle he’s 30”. Then, as if on auto pilot, I had released! I watched as my arrow buried completely to the fletching, directly behind his left shoulder, and angling perfectly into his chest He turned, bolted, and disappearing onto the same trail. As he bounced into the trees, the other big buck and

a smaller buck came bolting back into the field staring back into the bush. I sat in shock.

Hoping that my eyes had seen the shot right and that I had hit my mark. Everything had happened so fast, as I sat collecting my thoughts, the adrenaline dumped out hard, and I was shaking like a leaf.

I made a few calls and texts and climbed down to go and look for blood. Getting to the point of impact I could find no sign or blood anywhere. I was somewhat shocked, and a tiny bit concerned but figured I would go to where I watched him disappear onto the trail Nearing the tree line, I looked down and saw fletchings in the grass. Stooping down, my heart leapt as I picked up the broken off last 4 inches of my arrow, the fletching completely covered in blood! Following blood now to the edge of the trees, I no sooner looked down the trail than I could see him lying only ten yards away, his head down and his body still and lifeless.

I called my dad and a few friends and soaked in the blessing that I had been given. I sat for a time taking in the moment, as the sun set, and light began to fade reflecting on my past few years. I had prayed and strived for success, and it had always eluded me, even to the point of missing what should have been a sure thing. Bow hunting has many parallels with life and my bowhunting journey, much like my journey in life, has been full of highs and lows. Many times, I’ve worked hard and done everything I thought I could to be successful, and still come up short. I’ve often been left wondering what more I could do or what I should have done different. In all of this and in all the lessons of life and bow hunting, I have come to the realization that all things happen in God’s time, not mine, and a miss is not always the end of the story.

THE NEXT GENERATION

By Jonathan Lehman

Jons2023huntingseasonbroughton

relfectionsofthepastthatrevealthe valueofhuntingwithouryouth.

it was

mid-November and I had been getting request after request from my two boys to tag along on a whitetail deer hunt. I was in hot pursuit of my target whitetail buck and grinding out everyday in an attempt to outsmart him. I didn't want to take a day out of my pursuit But then it hit me... maybe I need to sacrifice a day or two and experience the outdoors with my boys.

So, with that in mind I ventured out to a spot where deer frequented in hopes of giving the boys a little action. In preparation I went out a few days before and set a blind. I made plans to take them out for an evening and a morning sit For both boys it would be their first whitetail hunt. Both had been on spring bear hunts and fall bird hunts but sitting on colder November days and having to be extra quiet was cause for concern.

A few days later we headed out with high hopes on the evening sit. The boys were over the moon. We were dressed for the frigid November weather and brought extra clothes just in case. Copious amounts of snacks and drinks were packed for the trip.

We got nestled in the blind and we were all ready for what the evening would bring. After an

hour, maybe less, the boredom started to set in. But I was prepared, or so I thought. I opened the snack pack, and they dug in. I didn't account for the noise of the crinkling pop tart wrappers; the juice box slurps or the loud chewing. After 20 or so minutes the snacks ran out but the boredom didn't.

At the end of it all we left with an hour of light before dark and we didn’t have any action. My frustration was high, but I hid it the best I could. The boys were pumped. To them they had just completed their first ever whitetail hunt. It was also a valuable lesson for me about minimizing pop tart wrapper noise

The next day we woke early for a morning sit. I anticipated another quiet morning and an early return. After about 30 minutes a coyote decided to walk into our shooting lane. After a few "Dad please!" requests, the coyotes’ days were over. We took photos so we could relive the memory for years to come. The boys were over the moon and to be honest I was too. We ended the morning going over some calling and rattling techniques for whitetail After showing the kids the ropes, I handed the

antlers and my buck grunt to them, they each did a few sequences The deer didn't fall for their calling, but you could not wipe the smiles off their faces when we returned home for lunch.

At the end of it all the experience was one they will have for years. They learned valuable lessons and got to spend time in the field. But the real surprise was the lessons I learned - it's not always about the biggest deer, and we can get caught up in the chase of those special animals. Sometimes taking a step back and reminding yourself that someone once introduced us to the outdoors and hunting, as I am introducing it to my boys. For me that was my father and his good friend Ken. I am sure I caused the same amounts of frustration for them throughout the years as my boys did to me. I can remember vividly being in an old wooden tree stand with Ken. My Dad on the ground below with a disposable camera. I don't remember seeing animals that day, maybe we did, but I do remember feeling like a part of the "crew"

When I look back at 2023, these hunts with the boys are near the top, and if you're wondering about that target buck I was chasing, I did end up outsmarting him. So, taking a few days to make memories with my kids didn't affect the outcome.

This is a reminder that we were all once "The Next Generation"