Sept 20, day 5....
Rain on the tent roof at 4am started light and slowly progressed to a decent little rainfall. A quick glance at the wood stove indicates it is still quietly chugging along and does not require tending at this time. “Good”, I whisper to myself as I settle deeper into my bag. I hope the rain stops as I have no desire to get wet, cold and sick. I cannot afford it! Back to sleep and 6am comes shortly thereafter. Time to rise.
Rain has stopped, partial cloud and warm wind. Not perfect but not bad either. Another quick breakfast and I grab my rifle...
On that subject, my .50 cal Lyman GPH (Great Plains Hunter) started life as a .50 GPR (Great Plains Rifle) flintlock kit. My entry into the satisfaction of “doing it yourself”. In all honesty I do believe I did a good job. After several years of frustration with a flint ignition, including purchasing an L&R RPL lock to try, I decided to convert it to percussion. So I drilled and tapped for a drum/nipple assembly and removed the frizzen, cock and modified the pan of the original lock to both fit and support the drum. I then forged a hammer. Worked like a charm, and still allows me to switch back to a flint quickly by utilizing the L&R lock. Well as time went on I stumbled upon a good deal for a .50 cal GPH barrel and followed that with the purchase of a L&R RPL percussion lock. Thus here we are today. Three options in the one stock. My self cast 370 grain Maxiballs were dropped from a Lyman mould I had picked up years ago, and I lubed with some old Wonder Lube I had laying around. They do seem to load easy so I check the barrel often each day for creep, but nothing so far. I had snapped 2 caps prior to loading her up the evening before opening day, and loaded with 90 grains of Pyrodex P. This load still sits waiting for the opportunity to make meat.
So my rifle and I head out for the morning hunt. I decide to “play my cards close to my chest” as I have no desire to hunt in the rain considering my compromised immune system, so we start by staying close to camp area. Of course this plan just is not possible, and soon I am following a game trail that just keeps getting more heavily used as I move along, until it is about 20” wide and bare dirt. Just have to see when it leads. Moving slow, surveying and scanning yields nothing, and calling is out of the question with the wind, so I continue on my exploration of a trail that is totally new to me, even after 25 years in this area. Well eventually I pop out on a trail I recognize as “Rylend’s Loop”. There is a nice vantage point here so I decide to sit and try calling. Likely futile with the wind, but why not try. Exactly as I suspected, no responses nor activity, so I start to still hunt my way back towards camp, as lunch is once again calling. Back at camp shortly after noon, and almost everyone is around, just my son-in-law still out. My rather successful friend has returned after dropping his hide and my meat into his freezer, excited as he bought himself new boots. He also picked up a white-tail tag just so he can keep hunting. Although I think he is actually more interested in just hunting Ruffled Grouse as he also returned with a small caliber rifle. My suspicions are confirmed when he leaves camp only packing the little caliber for the evening hunt. He also reports a heavy influx of other camps in the area with the coming weekend. Its a very warm and sunny afternoon, which has chased us all into the shade for a few hours. I notify everyone we will be having moose steak for supper as they have thawed in my cooler, so return hungry boys!
I struggle with where I should head into for the evening hunt, even as I gear up. My thoughts are that the area where the action was on opening day has likely been hit so hard that they have moved off. Just prior to departing camp I discover that nobody is going to sit at “The Perch,” a spot that has paid off for us almost every year! It seems that someone has sat there every morning and evening since season opening, with only a single cow elk sighting, and nobody wants to waste anymore time there. Well now, we can’t have that! So I have my evening hunt planned...
“The Perch” is nothing more than an opening in the forest, with a heavy transition trail crossing through it. It is about 1/3 of the way down into the river valley with a trapper trail access, so we can utilize a “pony” to recover animals. Its a great spot that I seldom get to sit as I always let everyone select their area first. Perhaps tonight...
As I sit, quietly and patiently waiting the passing by of an unsuspecting bull elk, I can’t help but marvel in the fall colors in this valley. The yellows, reds, greens and browns of the changing leaves meeting with the blue sky, capped off with the splashes of red on the thin clouds as the sun slowly lowers. Life truly is marvellous. I don’t think a painting could even replicate what I’m seeing. There is a faint odour of black bear resonating from my jacket, reminding me of last afternoons skinning, and I am hoping its not so strong as to disturb the game. Then reality sets in as I remember that it has been 5 days since my last shower and two since a sponge bath. Tomorrow I will fix that.
Sat until the end of legal light, with the only sighting being an owl that passed through. Oh well, those moose steaks are waiting.
Back at camp, and over supper I learn that two cow elk were seen, with nothing else. The pressure is mounting for a few of the group as their trip is ending Sunday.
