By Sitka Prostaffer Shawn Harding
Wyoming is generous with antelope tags, which I'm thankful for, as I haven't had much luck drawing elk or deer tags.
The antelope draw has been great to me and I typically plan to hunt the Labor Day week. I judiciously use my limited vacation days and time my hunts strategically to spend as much time in the field as possible. One day might not seem like much, but, combined with a "flex day" from August and September it can free you up for a week at the cost of only two vacation days. This leaves me as many days as possible to hunt Kansas deer later in the season. Thus, when I hunted antelope in the Cowboy State it wasn't during the rut.
Most of the big goats hide in a shady spot, waiting for the last week of September to show themselves. But if it's hot – dry, dust-choking hot – bucks will sneak out for a drink. If you can find a remote waterhole, you may get an opportunity at a good one.
Even though I'm slightly claustrophobic, I vowed to suffer through the discomfort of sitting in a blind for a chance at a 'lope.
On September 6th, the fourth day of our hunt, my friend Mike shot a nice buck from a blind next to a pond.
The next day I decided to set up in the same place. Mike said he’d seen several big bucks below the pond, and he was confident that killing his antelope there a day prior wouldn’t deter the activity. He was right.
From the moment the sun edged over the horizon, I had activity all around the blind. As it grew warmer, I saw more and more animals. I peeked through the back windows of the blind and squinted to focus on movement through slits of fabric. I was surprised to see a doe, a fawn and two bucks cautiously approaching the water. Their sharp eyes burned holes into the dark openings of the blind but couldn’t detect the assailant in a black Traverse Shirt.
The bigger buck was cautious and left the pond several times to watch his harem muddy their hooves. After the doe and fawn came and went several times, the subordinate buck made his way to the mud. I watched his throat begin pumping muddy liquid like a Shop-Vac and that was all it took to give the bigger antelope the courage to approach.
As he settled in, so did I. Kneeling, I eased to full draw. The pads of my Mountain Pants protected me from the cactus thorns in the dry pond bed, while I concentrated on the buck’s vitals.
The arrow blew through the buck’s chest. I waited in the claustrophobic confines of the blind until it was time. Stepping out into the sunlight, I beamed with joy and with gratitude.
