Alberta Wildlife Stories Volume 2

JUNE 1ST, 2024

FEATURED STORIES

Page 5 Monster Pike On The Fly

Joshua C. Murphy

Page 9 “He’s A Shooter Dad!”

Tim Hepworth

Page 13 Boars & Babies

Jonathan Lehman

Page 19 Birthday Buck

Austin Lunde

Page 24 First Archery White Tail

Megan Sharra

Page 29 Archery Success at 74 Yards

Tyler Slager

Page 33 Calling VS. Communicating

Geoff Dorward

Page 38 How To Tie: The Elk Hair Caddis

Ryan Storch

Photo Credit: Daniel Vervloet @dv_woodland_photography

A NOTE FROM THE EDITORS

Aaron Storr & Luke Squires

Over the last few months, since launching the magazine, we have had many great stories submitted by e-mail and told over the Alberta Wildlife Stories podcast. We are so thankful for all of the support and we are excited to share these submissions and authors with you. We’ve had a great spring filled with bear hunting and a less severe wildfire season in comparison to last year, allowing for more time in the great outdoors. Lakes and rivers are open for angling and we hope you have a great summer of scouting and adventure! Start preparing for fall, hunting season will be here before you know it!

MONSTER PIKE ON THE FLY

ByJoshuaC.Murphy

spring, I hit open water with an undue optimism hoping my somewhat crudely tied fly will entice a massive spring-hungry brown trout. For weeks now, I have been dreaming of the moment when my fly first hits the water, some speckled brown leviathan will rise from the depths of an 8” pool and crush my fly. But the truth is I get skunked in early season water far more than any other time of year… and I keep going out anyway.

Spring fishing requires both optimism for good weather and the grit to fish in the sleet and rain inevitably fall. May and June will bring some of the most unstable weather along with the best slay days where you boat over a hundred fish. Last spring, when my buddy and I rolled through the last stretch of a five-hour drive, we felt the anticipation build for our first open water trip of the year. We had high hopes pent up from a tough ice season. Winefred Lake is one of those hidden gems that you find in every province. It has the perfect habitat to breed big fish and keep them fed. Winefred is a shallow lake with varied topography and plenty of structure, steep enough to eat your prop if you’re not careful.

We set a goal of landing a 30 inch walleye this trip. The abundance of food in this lake turns the walters into overfilled rugby balls with fins. We had done well the previous fall, boasting a handful of pike over 40 inch and losing track of anything smaller. We caught so many big pike our demeanor changed from enthusiastic shouts of “Get the net!” on every sturdy bite to unhooking everything in the water if it looked like it was under 40 inch. So far, walleye had eluded us except for a few we caught on our pike baits in the shallows. The few we had caught were impressive, measuring around 28 inch.

Obsession is one of the characteristics that sets outdoorsman apart from other hobbyists. There

are few other things that will take over your life (and your wallet) as much as the thrill of the hunt. From reading forums and hours of practicing, to watching YouTube until you’re so sick of ads that you fork over $9.99 for the premium subscription, our choice game drives hours of study through the off-season. Landing a 41 inch Northern Pike has been that chase for me. 41 inch qualifies as a Manitoba “Master Angler” sized fish. Each season that I didn’t break that coveted 41 inch mark just sent me further down the hole.

Day one at Winefred had been sparce for walleye and even the usually reliable pike bite was a bit off. At breakfast the following morning, we made the astute observation that the overnight winds may have pushed the warm water to the opposite side of the lake – a part of the lake that was unfamiliar. In spring, I have seen fluctuations in water temperature of up to nearly ten degrees Fahrenheit from one side of the lake to another. It was worth a shot! We set off across the lake following the prevailing wind and keeping an eye on water temps.

We rolled into a sandy bay and dropped the live scope. The first thing I noticed was the water temperature was five degrees warmer. As we moved into the bay, there was lots of .

good bottom structure along with a weed line in 10 feet of water with a drop to 20 feet –prime water. As we cruised around, it looked like there was a bunch of driftwood lying on the bottom. A few casts in we realized that it wasn’t driftwood but dozens of massive pike sunning themselves in the shallow, warm water. Walleye fishing was on pause… we had found the big pike’s house

Almost right away, we hooked into back-toback pike over 36 inch. This was followed by over ten fish just under 40 inch. The bay was protected from the main lake current which resulted in water so clear we could sight fish 30 feet out from the boat. I turned off the sonar and trolling motor and let the boat dead drift through the bay. I perched on the bow of my boat pointing out big shadows for my buddy at the stern, taking turns calling out how fish were reacting to our baits.

Deep in the bay, we came across one shadow that we were sure was a log. I gave my fly a toss just in case there was a pike lurking behind. To my surprise, the log decided to swim towards my fly. As she lunged towards my fly, I yanked my line with an overeager hookset, bricking the bite of a lifetime. Out of shear luck, she didn’t spook. I quickly gathered my wits and recast my line. With a quick false cast my fly landed perfectly, falling several feet past the pike’s nose. The few seconds that it took for my fly to sink down felt like minutes, my sweaty palms and shaky hands making the anticipation worse. Once my fly hit the optimal depth, it was game time. I started working my fly towards the pike using small twitches and plenty of pauses to keep the streamer suspended in the strike zone for as long as possible. With a quick snap and a flash from the white on her belly, the log rolled over and engulfed my 10 inch fly. For a moment, I stood there in disbelief that this pike just ate 12 foot in front of the boat. Then everything came rushing back, I yanked back on the line to bury the hook like I was fishing in salt water and hoisted my 8 weight to the moon. I was on!

CANDDARCHERY.CA

I have had big bites before, but the weight of this fish knocked me off balance. She pulled drag for a solid minute, putting me in my running line before going airborne several times. It took six minutes of fighting with this pike before I finally got it close to the boat. The net that I had once thought comically large now looked an appropriate size. Landing this beauty couldn’t have gone better - one swipe and she was in the net. She smashed my previous personal best by 10 inches coming in at a whopping 52 inches. A true monster.

When you hit a peak like that whether it’s landing a fish, taking a buck, or getting that bucket list sheep, there is a deep satisfaction in the moment of achievement. You have the raw excitement mixed with accomplishment, satisfaction, and sorrow swirling around now

that the chase is over. Like a farewell with a close friend, the end to a good movie, and the closing lines to a great book; so much is wrapped up in those moments. Fishing requires patience, to be mindful of everything around you, clear and focused in a world desperate for distraction. Small changes can be the difference between success and failure, but it is impossible to know what change made the difference. There is an element of luck, but we will never know how much. The adventure and desire to test our mettle keeps us searching for those achievements. Maybe there is profound point in all that … or maybe just a fire thought for the summer. Big fish are awesome and spring is one of the best times to catch them. Go get a line wet.

“HE’S A SHOOTER DAD!”

ByTimHepworth

of my goals in the 2023 season was to harvest a buck with my daughter Wren. She has been involved in some awesome hunts over the years, but had never been with me when I harvested a whitetail buck. I told myself this would be the year. With archery season over it was time to pick up the rifle and work on finding a whitetail buck. Hunting whitetails in Central Alberta poses quite a few challenges; from wise deer to accessing private land, there are so many things that have to come together to make it possible.

After putting in some good scouting days it appeared we might have a bit of an early rut. I had seen numerous different bucks chasing after does and regularly checking scrape lines. It was November 10, and due to Remembrance Day weekend Wren had the Friday off school. We decided to head out and for an early morning sit, and see if we couldn’t see some deer on the move. I woke Wren early and we made our way out to a piece of property I had been seeing a few good bucks on. As we pulled up to the field we were going to sit on I was feeling lucky with no other hunters beating us to the spot. We got geared up and started our hike in, but as so many hunting days go on the prairies of Alberta, right as we set up and started to glass I saw two hunters a few hundred yards away already set up. Feeling a bit frustrated and disappointed we decided we needed to respect their hunt and hike back out to the vehicle.

With sunrise already up and no other firm plan, I told Wren not worry. We would go check out another property and maybe we would get lucky and see something there. I hadn’t put anytime into scouting this other piece of land but had seen good deer there in years past. We had to work our way down an

old fair weather road to get to where I had thought we could hike in. We were within about 200 yards of the property line fence when I heard Wren say “Dad there’s some deer!” Sure enough she was right, but they weren’t where we could hunt them. I shut off the truck and glassed down through the trees. It appeared to be 4 whitetails feeding across a swale. They all looked like does, but this time of year we knew there could be a buck with them somewhere. It wasn’t long before movement appeared behind them and sure enough there was a buck following with them as well All the deer were

the hills to slip in and get set up on a vantage point and hopefully get a glimpse of the deer moving.

As we started our hike in I could feel the wind was in perfect condition and direction for this to all come together. Wren and I were side hilling, about to crest the hill when I caught movement in the distance. Sure enough there were some whitetails filtering through the trees. I got my binoculars up and started glassing them but I couldn’t see a buck with them, it appeared to be just four does. I felt a little tug at my jacket and Wren said “Dad there’s a buck”! She was pointing to the swale right below us and sure enough there was a deer, with its head down working his way across the swale. I could tell it was a buck, but with the willows and high grass I just couldn’t tell what calibre of deer I was looking at. All of a sudden the buck stopped and stared right back in our direction. I was positive he couldn’t have caught our wind and was also quite certain he couldn’t see us on the edge of the hill, but either way we were locked in a stare off. With the least movement possible I got down, pulled out the bipod on my rifle and found him in the scope. I signalled to Wren to get her hearing protection on as a shot might be immanent. It felt like a lifetime of staring down this deer but I still could not make out his true size. His body was perfectly visible, but his head was still shrouded in willows, and although I could see his frame I had no idea what he had for points. Wren again tugged at my jacket, “Why aren’t you shooting him dad?”, I tried to explain that I couldn’t tell if he was a shooter buck or not. She was very adamant that she had got a good look at him before I had seen him and that he was a good buck. Not that I don’t have faith in my seven year old, but it was far too early in the season to be shooting a small buck.

I had so many thoughts rushing through my head, however I knew there couldn’t have been a better situation to have filled this tag with Wren. I knew I had to harvest this deer or I would never hear the end of it from her. I made up my mind… it was go time. I quickly ranged the bush next to him at 220 yards, it should be a chip shot. I settled my crosshairs behind his shoulder, exhaled and squeezed the trigger. My 7mm Remington magnum cracked and I tried to get eyes on the deer again. He ran about 20 yards before disappearing in the heavy willows. I grabbed Wren and gave her a hug. “Did you get him dad?” She asked. “I smoked him bud”, I replied. I knew it was a good shot.

We gave it thirty minutes before going to take a look for blood. We got to the spot where he had been standing and I was puzzled to not see a drop of blood anywhere. With no snow it made it more challenging, but there should have been blood. Although I tried to hide it from Wren, my nerves were high thinking I might have somehow missed. I told Wren we would just follow to where we had last seen him. Following close behind me I could feel Wrens energy building as we approached the willow thicket. With a huge sigh of relief I said, “There he is bud”. Right where we saw him disappear, he had dropped. We approached him together, and got our first real look at him. “See Dad I told

you he was a good one!” She was right, he was a great buck. Wren and I teared up with excitement, what a special moment to share together. We had tried on so many hunts to get to this point and it felt pretty darn good to have it come together. After saying a prayer of thanks and a few photos, we got to work field dressing, and getting the buck back to the truck. Life is full of “moments” and moments like these a truly special.

This was a day I will never forget. Never discount the experiences that can be made better by sharing them with your kids. Its definitely not always easier to involve them, but I promise it is always worth it. I hope to share many more days in the field with Wren in the years to come, and I hope you too will share days like these with your kids.

BOARS AND BABIES

ByJonathanLehman

Story

22nd to 24th , 2024 my third wild boar hunting trip. Little did I know that this trip would be drastically different than other years.

Now lets rewind to May 2nd , 2022 the first year I was invited to wild boar camp. My good pal John, or as I call him JP, invited me along on a hunt he and 4-5 others had been doing annually for the past 8-10 years. Now I will be honest JP had told me about these boar hunts for a few years before this, and every time I joked about my invite getting lost in the mail. The hunts always sounded like a-lot of fun and finally in 2022 my invite SHOWED UP! New area with new people and the pressure to come home with an animal had me nervous, excited but nervous.

that in a different article. Brent if you’re reading this, we look forward to you back in camp for 2025!

May 2nd started with a 4 hour drive to Kelly Readmans & Wild Boar Adventures just outside of North Battleford. After settling in and going through introductions we were off hunting. That trip ended with great success, I harvested 2 wild boars and a Corsican ram. The guys also informed me that as a group it was the best year they had ever had! I believe we had 9-10 Boars and 2 rams down that year. I also made friends that I will have for a lifetime. I must have left an impression as I was invited back for 2023 and again for this year (2024).

This year was different for a few reasons, one of those reasons is the reason I decided to write this article, but we will get to that. The other reason was this was the year where one of the group members was unable to attend because of health issues and it was something that affected everyone in camp. I personally have only known Brent since 2022 but our early AM jet boil coffee talks helped us bond quickly. I know the others at camp who have known Brent longer also felt his absence in a big way. During our campfire talks we reminisced about years past and excitement for future years. This time spent around the fire made me really appreciate these moments, but more on

Now for this article we jump back to April 22 nd , 2024 - I was on my way to Boar camp filled with excitement. I knew I was cutting it close by going that day as my girlfriend was expecting our daughter on May 4 th . Being her first child we both agreed that I could participate in the hunt. 10 days till due date should be LOTS of time, or so we thought. With all that said, we hashed a plan, made sure the In-Reach was charged and off I went.

I arrived at camp around 1pm on Monday April 22 nd , and a few of the guys were out on a hunt so I unloaded some things from my truck, got dressed and was ready to go. The group had harvested 1 Boar before my arrival. Slowly everyone started to migrated back to camp for brunch.

We had some discussions on how the day went and what we thought the animals would do for the evening hunt. Some days we head out in teams, others we go individually and for the evening hunt we chose the latter. One by one we informed each other where we planned to sit or stalk, and again one by one off we went, I headed to the infamous

“waterhole.” After some glassing I couldn’t drum up any boar sightings, so I decided to change locations. I headed up to one of the larger hills to glass the low spots. On my way I ran into Bill who informed me he had arrowed a Ram and was going to give it some time before tracking. As always, I asked if he needed a hand but he assured me he would manage just fine.

I arrived at my glassing location and made a rookie mistake… I left my e-bike standing as I headed to a ridge to glass. I wasn’t glassing 10 minutes when I heard the very distinct grunting of a few boars, I turned to find 3 Boars heading out of the bush straight in the direction of my bike. They were oblivious to my location, but at about the same time that I spotted them, they spotted my standing ebike. I ranged... 42 yards, as I ranged, they became skittish and headed back to the trees. I drew my bow... the first 2 were in some light cover, but the third pig locked on me. He moved broadside and I knew I wouldn’t have long once he did and I released an arrow. I watched that arrow sail over his back... a clear miss. I couldn’t help but think that was my chance! I blew it!

I headed back to camp to regroup and see how Bill was making out, but no-one was at camp. So I decided I had the wind in my favour, lots of daylight left and was going to go after those 3 boars I just encountered. I arrived back where I had missed and slowly walked my way through the edge of the thick brush. The wind was howling and directly in my face. Perfect! As I slowly walked, I started to see movement, boars directly in front of me but no shot. They started to take off into the wind away from me and toward a well used trail. They may have seen my movement, but I knew they couldn’t wind me, and the breeze helped me move briskly to get

to a window where I had a shot on the trail. I took a knee and drew my bow. They did exactly what I had anticipated except they came out slightly further down the trail than I thought they would. I had some branches in my shooting lane and decided not to take the shot, I quickly moved again this time back to the open so I could cover ground fast in an attempt to cut them off. Again, they spotted my movement but I knew they didn’t wind me. I heard a squeal and watched them head back into cover. I drew my bow again, and I was presented with a shot. The only issue was the boars didn’t stop in the lane and continued running right past. Not wanting to take a running shot on these fast moving creatures I let down..... again.

Back into the trees I went, with the wind still on my side. I could see the boars moving through the trees but I couldn’t make out their direction of travel. Then suddenly one of

them decided to break from the group and head right in my direction. But he was moving.... FAST... I took a knee to conceal myself in the small scrub brush. I reached for my range finder but soon noticed he was closing ground fast. I knew it was going to happen quickly and inside 25 yards. I drew my bow. I figured the movement would stop him... it did not, and he continued in my direction.... 20...15...12.... THWACK. The hit looked good. Or so I thought... he took off away from me into the trees. I followed to keep an eye on him. After 80 yards he stopped and just stood. I found a window and ranged again... 28 yards. THWACK!. He was down!!

I gathered myself and headed over, man was I pumped! Now some pressure was off, I had a boar down and so far my garmin was silent. Before I left, Jocelyn and I agreed that my InReach would be left on loud and that way if I received a message, it was urgent. With service being hit and miss, more miss in camp and at the butcher shack, we decided my Inreach would only be used if I needed to head home.

After field pictures, I headed to the butcher shack to attempt to find someone to assist me with my boar. When I arrived, I found JP and Jeremy, I was informed that Jeremy was taking the quad and trailer up to load up Bills ram and that we would retrieve my boar right after. Retrieval with the quad and trailer was a breeze. Bill, JP and I worked for the next few hours skinning and gutting our animals and then placing them in the homemade meat cooler as seen on my Instagram. Such a cool idea!

By the time we were done everyone had made their way down to the skinning shack to see who was successful. I headed up top to place a quick phone call back home and check the Oilers score. Everything at home seemed great and the Oilers were up! So I headed down to camp for a meal and fire.

After a great steak supper and some great stories told around the fire I decided I was going to head to bed. A few guys joked that I was safe to stay up as, and I quote “babies are not born after 10pm anyway.” I hashed a morning plan to go for Boar #2 and headed off to bed. As I was peacefully sleeping, I was awoke by the sound of the In Reach. I looked... 3:27am... I was dazed... could it be!!!

The message read: “Babe im so sorry. But my contractions are so bad and 5 mins apart. Mary is gonna pick me up and take me to the hospital. I tried to wait as long as I could but I cant wait anymore.”

Dazed, groggy and confused I grabbed my clothes, sleeping bag and headed out the door. I loaded my 2 bikes and mistakenly also took JP’s shoes. I told the guys later that I was just evening the odds. I wiggled JP awake and said “dude she’s in labour I got to go.” JP responded with HOLY FRICK. I offered to leave

my cooler so he could bring my pig home, but he had lots. So I fired up my truck and off I went.

I arrived home as Jocelyn had been sent home but told she would soon be back. I had an hour nap and unloaded my truck and off to the hospital we went. Ella Nicole Lehman was born at 12:52 am on April 24nd, 2024. I made it with some time to spare, some people think I am crazy for leaving, but me and Jocelyn (the boss) both agreed on it and although there were some intense moments it all worked out and made for one hell of a story. One that I am sure will be told for years to come. Its also one that will forever live on because of the ink on these pages. I know the last article was about me and my kids and

now this one... but it was too good not to write about. Thats what I think anyway! I have to end with a thank you to the boys in boar camp for helping breakdown my boar. and get the meat back to me. I want to thank Kelly at Wild Boar Adventures for his hospitality, the hunts here are always top notch! I also have to thank Aunt Mary for driving Jocelyn to the hospital and being on call in my absence, turns out we did need you! Lastly I want to thank Jocelyn for supporting me and my adventures and also for being an absolute champ through-out the delivery. She has and is an awesome Mother to Ella. I truly am blessed. I hope you enjoyed this action packed 2 day adventure. I look forward to future boar hunts. Thanks for reading! See you next time.

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Each year we set out to help family’s going through the unthinkable. We raise money to try and lift some of the financial burden that comes with sick love ones. We are all one big family here and we fight together

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BIRTHDAY BUCK

ByAustinLunde

a late bloomer, meaning that I started hunting in my 20s. With a November birthday I have really started enjoying being out hunting on that day, my apologies to friends and family that don’t celebrate with me anymore. As I’ve gotten older I have started feeling that unless it’s a benchmark year it’s not worth making a big fuss over, it’s just another day and it can be celebrated at any time.

After some scheduling conflicts at work and competing for time off to go hunting, I had to cancel my original hunting plans with the usual crew. My Uncles caught wind of this and took pity on me, for the first time in my life they invited me to go hunting with them. It turned out that their hunting trip encompassed my birthday.

Uncle Rick and Uncle Paul’s trip was planned for mid-November to their coveted spot in northwest Alberta where they have had permission on private land for a long time. Upon arriving at their hunting spot, we managed to get the truck stuck in some deep snow and ended up with a flat tire. We were close enough to the camp site that those were problems to deal with once we got the tent set up and a fire rolling. I am

We had General Whitetail tags as well as General Elk, one of my Uncle’s had also drawn an Antlerless Elk tag. They have had a lot of success with Elk at this location over the years and the focus of this trip was to fill our freezers with Elk meat.

For myself, the first day of the hunt was simply exploring the property and keeping an eye out for critters. There was plenty of deer and elk tracks all over the place. Every day’s strategy was to split up and trying to lay eyes on the Elk herd. Figuring out a pattern was tough in the old snow, there were tracks everywhere, these Elk were also being very elusive.

For the first five days of the trip I didn’t see anything other than some does flagging me as they disappeared into thick brush. We spent every day either sitting still in the cold, watching fields, or walking trails through the bush. The miles of trekking through snow were piling up and every day the weather got colder. The days were long with only a rest at lunch time. Suppers were taken after full dark. The evenings were filled with storied of old hunts, games of cards, and plenty of cigars, beer and scotch.

This hunting trip was becoming quite frustrating, we were not seeing any animals. Six days into the trip it was the morning of my Birthday, I treated it as any other day on the trip, get up early and head out with a lot of hope. Often, I find that perseverance is the key to hunting, keep spending time out there because eventually the animals have to come out and move around. And ultimately, you’ll find yourself in the right place at the right time.

Uncle Rick and I went and sat on opposite sides of a field that had a lot of Elk tracks crossing it. It was about -25 degrees Celsius, calm and clear. We got set up on this field about 30 minutes before legal light. I was sitting in the snow at the edge of the woods. In the pre-dawn light I saw one large shape emerge from the woods across the field, in the dark I couldn’t see exactly what it was but I was certain we had finally crossed paths with the elusive Elk. My Uncle Rick was on the bush line that this dark shape materialized from, he had a better view of it.

Waiting patiently for the dawn to come I was watching this animal feeding its way across the field toward me. As the sky lightened I felt a flash of disappointment when the dark shape turned into a Whitetail

Buck. I sent Uncle Rick a text expressing my displeasure, a single deer would not put much meat in all three of our freezers. But Uncle Rick, who has shot his fair share of big deer told me that it was a ‘Nice Buck’.

I quickly got over my disappointment that it was a deer and not an elk, it was still pretty exciting to finally have come across any animal. I concluded that if the buck was still hanging out when it became legal light I would shoot it. I was now watching a race between the dawn and this buck; the anticipation was starting to gnaw at me. Who would win? The slow measured pace of the Earth’s rotation or the buck who was contently feeding his way toward the woods. Although the buck was moving slow anything could happen, Whitetails are notoriously spooky.

That half hour for the sun to rise felt like an eternity but finally it was legal light. The buck was still in the open and only about 50 meters away from me, still calmly feeding along and almost perfectly broadside. I whispered to myself ‘Happy Birthday’. I brought my gun up, got the buck in my scope, flicked the safety off, and BANG! It was a good hit, the buck jumped and started running toward the woods. I didn’t want to end up tracking the deer in the bush so I fired another round, but this one was a clean miss. Adrenaline had gotten the better of my trigger finger. However, the sound of the second shot caused the buck change course, he turned back toward the open field and dropped.

This buck was the largest Whitetail that I have ever shot (even to date). Uncle Rick came over and wished me a Happy Birthday. What a great present! And right at the start of the day. There was a reason to celebrate, and maybe the rest of my Birthday would be relaxing now that the hunting pressure was lifted. After getting the Birthday Buck back to camp I strung it on the meat pole and I got to work skinning. While I was busy working my Uncles found the herd of Elk and I heard their shots. The rest of the day was filled with dragging a Cow and Bull out of the bush, field dressing and skinning them. It was a long exhausting day, but all the work was finished before sunset. After supper my Uncle’s had another surprise for me, they pulled out a Birthday Cake; somehow, they kept it hidden the whole trip.

My Uncle’s thought it was pretty cool. I didn’t grow up hunting and now here I am choosing to spend my Birthday sleeping in a tent in the cold away from the comforts one would expect to enjoy on a special occasion. Instead of sleeping in a warm bed beside my wife, I was up well before dawn to head out in to the snow trying to find hunting success. But, for hard work and perseverance I was rewarded with a Buck for my

Birthday. And I was pampered by some of my family with beer and cake.

Every year since I have gone hunting for my birthday and have tried to get another Birthday Buck. So far, I haven’t shot one on my birthday, but the following year I shot a decent buck on my Wife’s birthday, maybe a story for another day.

FIRST ARCHERY WHITE TAIL

By Megan Sharra

ARCHERY SUCCESS AT 74 YARDS

By Tyler Slager

a hunter for sixteen years, I have been fortunate enough to have many unique experiences and accomplishments. One feat I had yet to succeed in was shooting a black bear with my bow in a spot and stalk situation. Up to that point I had been able to kill a number of bears with my bow but always over a bait site. Every year I make sure to have bear tags in my pocket, but it’s usually for the rare instance I come across one that I want to attempt a shot at while targeting other game animals like elk. This year I decided I was going to make it a priority to attain that goal.

Having spent a few days with my brother Ryan in pursuit of fulfilling his mule deer buck draw we were consistently finding fantastic bear sign along the edges of the same agriculture fields the deer were feeding in. We even had a few close encounters with small bears, but judging the size of the scat and tracks we were coming across, we knew that bigger bears were in the area. All we needed was to time it right so that we were present at the same time they were.

After putting up with heavy rainfall for consecutive days, the sun broke through the clouds and we knew that was going to be our opportunity to get out after the animals that were itching to move after being held back by the downpour. Ultimately, that evening we were hoping to get onto a bachelor group of mule

deer that we had patterned. Ryan had already missed the lead buck, shooting just underneath him, but they continued to frequent the same spot. Knowing our odds would be better towards the end of the night, we chose to go check out another spot that we had seen both mule deer and black bears regularly. Ryan and I had an agreement that we would both bring our bows and if we found a mule deer I would videotape him, or if we found a big enough bear he would film me.

We got ourselves ready to head into our first spot of the evening. I took lead and slowly made my way out into the field towards a high point that I thought would give me a good angle to glass most of the area. I didn’t even have to raise my binoculars and I could already see a big black blob off in the distance. A black bear! And a big one at that. After assessing the situation I ranged the bear at 377 yards, and made the decision to try and cut it off at the tree line. We backtracked towards the trees and started hustling up the field edge towards the bear. Unable to see it again I would repeatedly range a reference point to see how much

further we needed to go. Once we reached a point where I thought I had put us within sixty yards of where the bear was going to exit the field we hunkered down and waited. It didn’t take long and we had a visual. Here it comes. Trying to gauge the angle it was heading towards us, my binos were glued to my face watching its every move. The bear was 120 yards out and closing in. I was very confident in our ambush setup until something caught my eye. Directly behind this big bear, up stands a cub. This changed the entire situation. Only one hundred yards between us, I made the decision to quickly and quietly back out the way we came to avoid any sort of confrontation with this big old sow. Keeping an eye over our shoulders we made it back to the truck and decided to go look at the spot we were saving until later that night. With the sun starting to set we were aware that our opportunity to make something

happen was dwindling. To our fortune, and the farmer’s misfortune, his seed drill left a few seedless strips across the field that allowed for us to make up ground in a hurry without making a lot of noise. As we crested the hill that we hoped to glass up the group of mule deer from, there were no deer in sight. But there was another big bear all alone feeding around down in the corner of the field! It was game on! I knew exactly how I wanted to approach this scenario. We fell back and rounded the hill down to the field edge. The wind was perfect. Sneaking up the field edge, we were approaching the last bit of brush between us and the last place I had spotted the bear. We slowly edged up and were able to lay eyes on the bear. Sixty yards away and very distracted by its feeding routine, I made the choice to try and close ten more yards. As I broke off the tree line I noticed another bear to my left. A small one, but it saw me before I saw it.

Fleeing into the trees, it made enough noise to peak the interest of the bear I was after. Even though my wind was favourable this bear was now keeping an eye on me. I was trying to make myself comfortable enough to make a shot, now fifty yards away, but the bear was quartering towards me and I didn’t want to risk a poorly placed arrow. The bear began to turn away, and as I went to draw back it bolted. I was feeling dejected. But just when I thought the hunt was over, curiosity got the best of this nosey bear. It wanted a better look at what we were and decided to circle downwind of us. Walking a few feet, stopping to smell, and walking some more, I noticed a perfect shooting lane the direction this bear was headed. I must have ranged the spot a dozen times. 74 yards. I was very confident in my ability as a shooter and the overall situation. As the bear stepped perfectly i

nto my shot window, I came to full draw, settled my 70-yard pin a little bit high and let my arrow fly! I watched my blue lit nock arc through the air and drive its way right through the bear’s heart! It was a full pass through. We recovered my arrow and after a very heavy blood trail we found my first ever spot and stalk black bear!

CALLING VS COMMUNICATING

By Geoff Dorward

It was my Uncle Ron that first got me into hunting many years ago. After my very 1st season of learning from him, sitting in a tree stand with my bow in hand watching and hunting whitetail deer (and successfully harvesting my first animal, a doe) he felt I was a ready for a little bit more for my 2nd season and introduced me to elk! it was

I didn’t know anything about hunting elk and the only elk I had ever seen was when I travelled through Jasper and would see them on the side of the roads feeding in fields. Nonetheless it was my 2nd year hunting, and I was excited just to get out into the woods, explore new areas and learn new things so of course I jumped at the opportunity to tag along with my uncle and his hunting partner. Although I had my own bow and my own elk tags in my camo fanny pack (yes a fanny pack as I didn’t have much gear and didn’t own a back pack), I was basically a spectator that tagged along with them that tried not to get in the way or ask too many annoying questions. I didn’t know where we were going hunting for elk, I didn’t know what sign to look for and I didn’t pay attention to the areas & terrain we travelled. All I knew was when I was out in the woods, I was excited and happy to be out there!

I remember doubling on the back of one of their quads or riding in the tub trailer as they navigated us into the woods early in the morning in complete darkness until they reached a spot they were comfortable with and shut off their engines. Complete silence. Complete darkness. Completely scared as I didn’t have much experience in the woods and especially in the middle of nowhere with no lights. I asked what the game plan was and how we were going to find elk. Their plan was simple, bugle with the “Berry Thunderbugle” and when you hear a response go after it using the “Hoochie Mama”. Sounded simple enough right? As we walked the woods and trails, they pointed out what elk poop looked like, what the rubs on the trees looked like and pockets of mud and water that they called wallows and told me about the bulls that would lay down in there as well as piss all over themselves to attract the cows. I swear half the time I didn’t know if they were just pulling my leg to see what I’d believe or if they were being truthful. Again, as a newbie hunter I took it all in and absorbed all the information I could – this was exciting, and this was fun!

It was early September and I remember walking along a fence line that had some sort of agricultural crop of some sort on one side of it and on the other side thick Alberta boreal forest. We had stopped to look at some elk beds along the trees and a big rub within a little clump of bushes. Suddenly running across the field was a bull elk with his neck stretched back, antlers laying across his back and his mouth open giving off this loud prehistoric sound. We started running down the fence line towards where the bull should be crossing, while my uncle’s hunting partner was bugling and pressing on his hoochie mama the entire way. We weren’t able to intersect the bull and he made his way into the trees without a trace, and we were left there looking at each other wondering what to do. Although this was wildly exciting for me to have as my first elk encounter, I started thinking what else could we have done to stop that bull? That was my only elk encounter that year of hunting, but it was sure fun learning all about them.

The next year it was just my Uncle Ron and I that hunted elk together and in the offseason we planned some dates in early September to get out and spend a few consecutive days in the woods to see if we could connect on an elk. We hunted an area that he had hunted previously, so he was aware of some ‘really good spots’ and we made our way to them. We found the now all familiar to me signs of wallows and rubs and set up in the area. We had several elk encounters that week that had cows and calves come close (but not close enough for a shot) and could hear bulls bugling before the morning sun came up that would get my heart pounding with excitement and fear. Eventually that week Uncle Ron somehow called a 5x5 bull into the wallow he was sitting over top of in his self-climbing tree stand and was able to sink an arrow directly into some vitals for his very 1st elk harvest. I had actually heard the shot and made my way over from the clear cut log pile I was sitting on to find Uncle Ron standing above his harvest. I was excited that he had shot his first elk and I was excited and nervous of how we were going to

The next year my uncle and I headed out to the same area in search of elk again and used the same techniques to see if we could call in more elk. Low and behold we (ok mostly he as I still really didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing) were able to call in a single cow and again he connected with a lethal arrow and again we worked hard to get another large elk out of the bush in the fading light into complete darkness. That was the last year that Uncle Ron went out for elk and his passion for hunting slowly faded as he also started having some back issues that prevented him from being mobile in the woods and each time he tried he was in a lot of pain. I was glad I was able to hunt with him for a few years so that he could teach me what he knew and light that passion in me for the outdoors that still burns strong in me today.

I hunted solo for a few years and did the best I could but wasn’t having much success. I knew my calling wasn’t great and I knew I needed more practice. I mean the extent of my calling was to be able to blow in a bugle tube with a built-in reed or twist out the neck of my hoochie mama call that lengthened the call and the sounds went from cow to cow estrous to lost calf (but to me they all sounded the same). I didn’t know when or where or how to use them. Looking back at it now, I probably looked like a one-man band stomping through the woods blowing on a kazoo and trombone. This was before any information about elk calling was available online so I had nowhere to turn to and nowhere to learn from. As the years went on those resources slowly started to become available through the internet and eventually YouTube was launched and I was able to find some resources there.

I remember meeting Travis O’Shea from Wapiti River at an elk calling seminar and was amazed at his approach to calling elk. Better yet he was willing to share some of his strategies for elk

hunting with me and he sold the calling products to do it with! I was hooked and bought a few different reeds and a bugle tube went home and tried them out. Got home, put one in my mouth, and gagged at the taste of the tape / rubber it was made with. Once I got past the taste of it, I tried to make elk sounds but could only get sounds out that sounded like I was blowing raspberries or blowing air. Eventually I was able to get the all familiar ‘chirp’ sound. With more practice I was able to get a bugle like sound coming out but by this time my tongue was numb and sore from pressing it on the reed and the roof of my mouth was so sore from trying so hard. I kept practicing all off season making these sounds and eventually got pretty good (at least I thought I sounded good).

I went into yet another season capable of doing bull bugles, cow chirps and cow estrous buzzing chirps. I was ready, I was capable, I was confident…I was dead wrong. Although I would hear bugles while out in the woods hunting, I would respond with my own bugle or my own chirps but couldn’t get the elk in. In most times after I responded, the elk would go silent or simply go in the other direction. How could I be so bad?

I knew I wasn’t great but was I really that bad that the elk would turn and run away? These same scenarios repeated themselves year after year as I hunted elk every September. My calling definitely got better and was able to improve the sounds I was able to produce but still the same result time after time, some closer elk encounters but never close enough for a shot. I quickly realized that although I could call, I wasn’t communicating.

I started learning from every place I could find online. Joel Turner’s Ironmind Hunting, Paul Medel’s Elk Nut and I continued attending all of Travis O’Shea’s Elk calling seminars and kept absorbing everything I could. I practiced calling sequences that included the slow play, breeding sequences, cow party, advertising bugles and challenge bugles. All summer I kept a Ziploc bag full of reeds in the console of my truck and a bugle tube on my passenger seat and practiced every chance I could. Whether that be a 10 min drive to the grocery store or a 3-hour road trip I had reeds in my mouth and making elk noises (much to the chagrin of any passenger that was with me). All summer I listened on repeat to the pros share their tactics on what the elk were actually saying with the types of calls they were making and the behaviors they would show in the wild. That September I headed out to the bush again but this time I was full of knowledge and had an entire off season of calling practice under my belt determined that I would get my first elk. Another season went by (ok about another 7 seasons went by) and still no elk tag folded for me. The one thing that did change for me throughout those years was that the encounters became more frequent, I could get responses from the elk, and I could get the bulls closer, even if I didn’t get a shot at any of them. Armed with the knowledge I had learned from the sources mentioned earlier, I also learned from the elk encounters I did have. I could hear and occasionally see what was happening out in

the elk woods. I could hear how the elk responded to my calls and tried to remember what worked in what situations. The mentors that shared their tactics taught me lots, the elk in the woods taught me more! Eventually I felt confident that I knew how to communicate with the elk when I had those encounters in the woods. Eventually on the morning of September 18, 2019 I shot my first bull elk and was overwhelmed with excitement and emotions and couldn’t believe it actually finally all came together!

Even though I have taken a few elk since that first one back in 2019, I continue to learn how to speak their language and how to interpret what they are saying. Sometimes I put everything I have learned into play out in the woods and go days without seeing or hearing any elk whatsoever and sometimes I get responses just seconds after I let out my first call. I live for those early September days out in the woods and when I hear the bugles and chuckles of the bulls, I still get just as excited as I did the first time I heard that prehistoric powerful sound bellowing out in the wild. Elk hunting provides me with the excitement of the chase, the beauty of the locations, the respect of the encounters, the difficulty of the challenge and the art of communication.

H0W TO TIE THE ELK HAIR CADDIS

By Ryan Storch

recipe:

Size 20-8 standard dry fly hook

0d thread - colour of your choosing

Appropriately sized hackle in grizzly, ginger or black

dry fly dubbing in olives, tans or black

elk or deer hair

To jazz things up you can add CDC or flash to the underwing.

Step 1:

Secure hook in vice, start thread an eye width behind the hook eye, wrap back and trim off tag. Wind back to the barb.

Step 2:

Prepare appropriate sized hackle by cutting or stopping the last few barbules off, hold hackle at a 45 degree angle on the near side of the hook and tie in. Keep the hackle shiny side to the eye.

Step 4:

With evenly space wraps, bring the hackle forward to the front of the body and tie off and cut it off.

Step 3:

With the thread at the hackle, take a small pinch of dubbing and twist on a small noodle, wrap the dubbing forward creating a small taper. Finish the body at the thread starting point.

Step 5:

Snip off a small clump of hair, clean the fines and under hair out of it and stack. Measure out the wing to bend or just past.

Step 7:

Gather all the butts holding them together at a slight angle forward and snip them to create the head.

Step 6:

To tie the wing in, with your non dominant hand hold the clump of hair to length, with your thread, make a pinching wrap around the hair only. You then can take 2-3 loose wraps around the hair and hook. Once you’ve done that start to pull the thread tight cinching it down on the hook. Once secure grab 1/3 of the butts, pull rearward and make a thread wrap. You can do that 2 or 3 more times winding through the butts. Once at the eye, make some damming wraps and whip finish.

Step 8:

Add head cement or a small amount of uv glue to secure the knot.

IN COLLABERATION WITH