I almost always set goals to challenge myself in the field. I like the challenge of pursuing a mature animal with the simplest of traditional equipment, the goal of shooting an animal that measures well into the record books. It’s never about competing with others. I just want to push my limits, to expand the boundaries of my experience, gobbling up ever larger tracts of the territory known as personal satisfaction.
My Father, too, has always set goals. Years ago, he declared he’d shoot his 50th Pope & Young animal before his 49th birthday, which came this year on Jan. 23. The way his season was panning out, he was well on his way to doing just that. And in early November, he called and said he’d drawn his Cougar tag for the Central Mountains of Utah. So all he had to do was harvest one more whitetail before year’s end, and then fill the cougar tag before his birthday.
If you keep up with Sitka Insight, you know my Dad got lucky and shot his whitetail on the last day of Nebraska’s archery season. He was drawing close to achieving a goal he had set years ago.
After discussing the lion hunt with him, we decided that not only would I be going along to document the hunt for him, but we would also be taking his father, my grandfather, to experience the hunt as well.
Our schedules aligned, and we began a one-week hunt on Jan. 13.
Utah had very little snowfall, so we hunted dry ground on the first day. Our guide, Reed Dalton, has very good dogs, and we were confident that we could track a cat if we needed to. The trick would be finding a track that was not only big enough, but fresh enough.
I don’t know how many times I’ve said it, but Dad is probably the luckiest guy I know, and on the morning of day two we were blessed with six fresh inches of snow. Conditions could not have been any more ideal. We started covering ground early that morning to find as many sets of fresh tracks as possible. We ended up with three or four different sets. None of them appeared to be distinctly bigger than the others, so at around 10 a.m. we decided to let the dogs out on their first run of the trip. Grandpa stood back with a grin as he watched everyone prepare for the first chase. He decided he would take it easy and enjoy the view from the truck while we did all the hiking. The dogs were set loose, and we listened as the moans and howls faded away into the deep canyon.
When we reached the first cat, we took a good close look at him to see if he was going to be old enough to make the books. But this tom was too young. We still had fresh snow, so we pulled the dogs and backtracked to let loose on one of the other cats.
The next lion we treed was similar in size to the first, but she was an older female. Reed guessed her to be about 4 years old. It didn’t take long to see she wasn’t what we were after, either.
We got back to the truck around 5 p.m., which left us too little time to tree another cat. We couldn’t complain, though. We were feet away from two beautiful lions and got two good runs in for the dogs. Grandpa was full of grins as I showed him the pictures and answered his many questions.
We slept well that night and woke up eager. But the weather wasn’t looking good for us. The forecast called for warming and rain by late evening. If there’s a bad condition for a hound’s nose, it’s mud.
We covered as much ground as we could, seeking a large tom track. We found a couple fresh tracks before noon, but nothing of size. The temps were rising and the beating sun was starting to take our snow away. We figured the best thing to do at that point was to release the dogs on one of the larger tracks and see if we couldn’t happen on a big enough tom during the run. The dogs were collared and let loose. The sounds of howls filled the canyon again as they disappeared down the trail. We hiked to the edge of a ridge and listened as the dogs worked way down into the bottom, and then across the valley to the next mountain. After about an hour, the dogs had found a lion.
It was going to be a long hike, but fortunately for Grandpa there was a road that looped around through the bottom. After finding where the lion was, we realized there was a good possibility for Grandpa to actually see this one.
We made our way to the bottom and followed the road toward the dogs. Sure enough, the lion was treed only a couple hundred yards from the road. Dad and I took off toward the tree and told Grandpa to take his time, that we would wait for him.
Dad and I got to where we could see the lion. It was in a very thick and tall pine. We could see its body, but never could get a good look at its head. We started to debate about what we should do. We knew the lion wasn’t big enough to make Pope & Young. It was getting to be too late in the day to make another run before dark, and weather was moving in.
Then, from down the hill, we heard Grandpa holler, “I’m almost there!”
Dad and I smiled at each other. At that moment we knew we had to take this lion. Having the opportunity to have Grandpa there to experience the entire hunt was worth way more than any score.
Grandpa eventually made his way to us, and we got him in a good position to see the cat. He looked on as Dad made a great shot, and the hunt came to an end. I continued to record it all as Grandpa gave Dad a high five, full of smiles. The emotions I got to share with my Dad and Grandpa were something I will never forget. When we got down to the lion, Grandpa was able to lift the cat up for a couple pictures that I’m sure have already filled the coffee shops of Wayne, Nebraska, with stories.
This hunt didn’t end with a giant trophy, but it’s a hunt that ranks at the top of my list, and always will.
As for Dad, his 50th Pope & Young animal will have to come now at the age of 49. I guess you could say he didn’t reach his goal, but you’d be missing the point. He claimed for himself a valuable tract in the territory of personal satisfaction.