6th Prize
Hunting Journal with Weatherby Logo (100 awarded)
Merlin Cassens, Oregon
I have hunted all my life in the same area of Eastern Oregon for Mule Deer and Rocky Mountain Elk. My crowning glory being ‘Wooly Bully,’ a big 6X6 bull, that walked up within 50 feet of me, some years ago...but that’s another story.
I have always heard how great the hunting in Alaska can be. Going to the Sportsman’s Show and talking to the guides, it seems so possible, and watching the hunting shows make it seem so real.
I finally find the guide and trip I want. I decide to go on a hunt during the rut for a big bull. I get all my papers together, making sure my gun and scope are in the best shape they can be. I get all the proper clothing so I can enjoy the hunt. Oh yes, my favorite hunting and fishing partner is my wife, Jan. She goes with me, wherever. I enjoy sharing whatever I do with her. She hunts and fishes too, but isn’t as able to do the extensive walking sometimes required. Still she is right there, encouraging me to GO FOR IT!
We head out for camp, making the long trip with great excitement. First, we pack and double check to make sure we have all the stuff we will need. Stores are going to be a long way off! It’s been a long trip. Exhausted but not wanting to miss a minute, we look forward to being in camp. As we arrive, flying low over the lake, enjoying how crystal clear the water is, we are talking about all the wildlife we have seen, and how we can really appreciate the beauty of the unspoiled land of Alaska.
We meet our guide and he gives us the camp and hunt briefing. The guide and I head out the next morning to look for a likely bull, but no luck. As I return to camp after a long day of hunting, I am filled with the wonder of the land, and all I learned from him. I share this with Jan. This is how it goes for a couple of days. Still the experience is great!
Today, as I get ready to go for the afternoon hunt. The excitement builds even more when my guide tells me that several moose have been spotted not far away. Off we go again. We spot a bull on the next ridge. He looks promising. As we get closer, he just gets larger and larger. We go trudging through the snow. He drops over the edge. Oh no, are we going to lose him?
As we reach the crest of the peak, there he is, just below us, on a small outcropping of rock and snow. I’m shaking a little from the cold, well OK, maybe it’s not just the cold. As I get setup for a shot, he turns to look my way, I hesitate for just a moment to admire how he stands majestically, not aware that his life is about over. Then I place my crosshairs just behind the shoulder blade, and slowly squeeze the trigger. I watch as he stumbles, walks a short distance and then drops. I can hardly contain myself.
As we walk toward the big bull, I can’t help but appreciate the life he has led. I reach the bull, his rack seems 10 feet across. As I lean toward the great big rack to touch him, and be sure he’s down.
Then ‘Huh? What’s this?’
I WAKE UP...OH MAN, NOW THAT’S A DREAM HUNT!”