Kizmo
New member
Well, due to all the hogs on my place, I haven't done much yote hunting lately. Since the calves have started dropping, I decided to test the waters and see what the yotes were up to. I shot this fella with my .454 Friday evening, so I figured by Sunday he'd make a nice bait pile.
Sunday, I wanted to save my bait pile for last (you don't eat dessert first, do you?), so me and my buddy Dr. K_n, PhD. Wildlife Biologist In Charge of Possums (of the infamous Last Night's Dove Shoot in a Thunderstorm thread) decided to hit the south pasture first. Dr. K_n had purchased a Remington R15 last summer, a huge upgrade from his old single shot .204, but he hadn't had a chance to hunt with it due to his sorriness. I had a hankering to kill a yote with my Glock 20 10mm. I had just put a new set of Meprolights on it and hadn't had a chance to shoot anything but a dad-blamed rattlesnake.
First stand, it had just gotten dark when we set up in the back of my Hummer overlooking the old river bed with the Shockwave hanging in a willow tree. Just a couple of minutes into the call, a pair of yotish looking eyes comes bounding over the hill about 300 yards away. Unfortunately, yours truly had parked us right in front of a bushy live oak at about 100 yards out, so, of course, the yote heads behind that on his way in. After what seemed like forever, he finally popped out at a little over 100 yards and comes to a halt.
BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's nearly brand spankin' new R15. The yote turns and runs behind the tree, then pops out again and appears to go down. I switched to pup in distress and another set of eyes appears to the right but doesn't come in and finally disappears. We skedaddle over to where Dr. K_n's dog appeared to go down and come up empty. As we search, I hear him lip squeaking and run over there. Sure enough, a pair of yotish eyes are staring at us from 100 yards away like we were a naked gay couple trying to get married in a Baptist church. I take up the lip squeaking whilst Dr. K_n gets settled into position. BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's R15 again and the yote starts grabbing leaves and making a dash to the south. We parallel the yote and finally hit a clear spot where we can see the him again. I bark at him and he stops and looks at us broadside. BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's R15 yet again, followed by BOOM, BOO-BOO BOOM! as the yote once again flees the scene.
Now, we have to go over there and check for blood, fur, a dead cow, etc. While we're looking at all that pristine blood-free grass, I happened to shine the light in the direction of the river. You guessed it. Yotish eyes at a 100 yards. BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's R15 and the yote heads south unscathed towards the spot I had baited for hogs along the fence. I lip squeak like crazy and, lo and behold, the yote stops to check us out yet again, trying in vain to figure out what the [beeep] these creatures are that are making all that noise. Dr. K_n steadies himself yet one more time and BOOM! goes the R15. This time, I see Mr. Yote go into a spin as he disappears behind the ridge. We hightail it over there and, at the top of the hill, spy Mr. Yote at about 20 yards. BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's R15, and dirt and grass rain down all over Mr. Yote's head. I walked over and administered the coup-de-grace with the head of my Olight SR90 and the proceedings come to an end.
At this point, we're easily 600 yards from the truck, in the dark, and in somewhat unfamiliar territory, possibly even in another ZIP code. Fortunately, the center pivot in the adjacent field is going, allowing us to navigate by sound. Dr. K_n is dragging his trophy (easily the most expensive yote ever killed on the place) whilst I carry his still smoking red hot boom stick, after surreptitiously verifying that the gun is indeed not an illegally converted full auto. Even though by this point the barrel probably glowed brightly enough for us to navigate without a light, I felt it best to keep the Olight on, just in case. As I was pointing out to him he had expended more ammunition killing his yote than he did sighting the weapon in, my caution was rewarded because, as we approached to within 100 yards of my truck, I spied Mr. Yote's brother who had obviously come to pay his respects to his dear departed sibling. I hand Dr. K_n his glowing pile of molten slag and start lip squeaking as I get the light on Mr. Yote's brother, who commences to trot to within 60 yards of my truck. As I am about to caution Dr. K_n not to shoot my truck, BOOM! goes the firestick yet again, and Mr. Yote's brother goes down.
(Note the crazed, maniacal, expression on this killer's face)
NOW is the time to have dessert, since the first "stand" took all of an hour and a half. We get to the ridge overlooking where I'd dropped the boar and start calling. We see nothing, but do get a couple of yotes to respond to the north of us. We hightailed it up there and slipped in the gate. On the way to my favorite spot, I happen to shine the Olight out the window and see yotish eyes looking at us 100 yards away. I put it in park and left the engine running as we bailed out and trotted in that direction. The yote, in the meantime, vamoosed down the hill. We approach the spot while I lipsqueaked like crazy and shined the light around. Yote #3 evidently changed his mind about his escape plan and at the last minute decided to grab a snack for the road, because there he was, running back up the hill straight towards us. I unholstered the Glock. Dr. K_n, who was, by now, presumably out of bullets, graciously volunteered to man the light so I could assume a two handed grip. At 50 yards as the yote came on a run towards us, BOOM! goes the 10mm. Evidently, I was the only one who heard it, because the yote didn't even slow up. BOOM! goes the Glock again, but it was like trying to keep a politician out of a bordello. He didn't even slow down. BOOM! goes the Glock again, and this time he must have heard the bullet whizzing overhead because he hit the ground at 35 yards, looking puzzled. BOOM! goes the Glock one more time, and the yote went AFUD* from a 200 grainer in the noggin.
When all was said and done, we'd made 3 stands and killed 3 yotes. NONE of them were what I would call a classic hunt. Just goes to show, dessert ain't all it's cracked up to be, and patience, persistence (and a LOT of ammo) pays off.
*= All Fours Up Dog.
Sunday, I wanted to save my bait pile for last (you don't eat dessert first, do you?), so me and my buddy Dr. K_n, PhD. Wildlife Biologist In Charge of Possums (of the infamous Last Night's Dove Shoot in a Thunderstorm thread) decided to hit the south pasture first. Dr. K_n had purchased a Remington R15 last summer, a huge upgrade from his old single shot .204, but he hadn't had a chance to hunt with it due to his sorriness. I had a hankering to kill a yote with my Glock 20 10mm. I had just put a new set of Meprolights on it and hadn't had a chance to shoot anything but a dad-blamed rattlesnake.
First stand, it had just gotten dark when we set up in the back of my Hummer overlooking the old river bed with the Shockwave hanging in a willow tree. Just a couple of minutes into the call, a pair of yotish looking eyes comes bounding over the hill about 300 yards away. Unfortunately, yours truly had parked us right in front of a bushy live oak at about 100 yards out, so, of course, the yote heads behind that on his way in. After what seemed like forever, he finally popped out at a little over 100 yards and comes to a halt.
BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's nearly brand spankin' new R15. The yote turns and runs behind the tree, then pops out again and appears to go down. I switched to pup in distress and another set of eyes appears to the right but doesn't come in and finally disappears. We skedaddle over to where Dr. K_n's dog appeared to go down and come up empty. As we search, I hear him lip squeaking and run over there. Sure enough, a pair of yotish eyes are staring at us from 100 yards away like we were a naked gay couple trying to get married in a Baptist church. I take up the lip squeaking whilst Dr. K_n gets settled into position. BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's R15 again and the yote starts grabbing leaves and making a dash to the south. We parallel the yote and finally hit a clear spot where we can see the him again. I bark at him and he stops and looks at us broadside. BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's R15 yet again, followed by BOOM, BOO-BOO BOOM! as the yote once again flees the scene.
Now, we have to go over there and check for blood, fur, a dead cow, etc. While we're looking at all that pristine blood-free grass, I happened to shine the light in the direction of the river. You guessed it. Yotish eyes at a 100 yards. BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's R15 and the yote heads south unscathed towards the spot I had baited for hogs along the fence. I lip squeak like crazy and, lo and behold, the yote stops to check us out yet again, trying in vain to figure out what the [beeep] these creatures are that are making all that noise. Dr. K_n steadies himself yet one more time and BOOM! goes the R15. This time, I see Mr. Yote go into a spin as he disappears behind the ridge. We hightail it over there and, at the top of the hill, spy Mr. Yote at about 20 yards. BOOM! goes Dr. K_n's R15, and dirt and grass rain down all over Mr. Yote's head. I walked over and administered the coup-de-grace with the head of my Olight SR90 and the proceedings come to an end.
At this point, we're easily 600 yards from the truck, in the dark, and in somewhat unfamiliar territory, possibly even in another ZIP code. Fortunately, the center pivot in the adjacent field is going, allowing us to navigate by sound. Dr. K_n is dragging his trophy (easily the most expensive yote ever killed on the place) whilst I carry his still smoking red hot boom stick, after surreptitiously verifying that the gun is indeed not an illegally converted full auto. Even though by this point the barrel probably glowed brightly enough for us to navigate without a light, I felt it best to keep the Olight on, just in case. As I was pointing out to him he had expended more ammunition killing his yote than he did sighting the weapon in, my caution was rewarded because, as we approached to within 100 yards of my truck, I spied Mr. Yote's brother who had obviously come to pay his respects to his dear departed sibling. I hand Dr. K_n his glowing pile of molten slag and start lip squeaking as I get the light on Mr. Yote's brother, who commences to trot to within 60 yards of my truck. As I am about to caution Dr. K_n not to shoot my truck, BOOM! goes the firestick yet again, and Mr. Yote's brother goes down.
(Note the crazed, maniacal, expression on this killer's face)
NOW is the time to have dessert, since the first "stand" took all of an hour and a half. We get to the ridge overlooking where I'd dropped the boar and start calling. We see nothing, but do get a couple of yotes to respond to the north of us. We hightailed it up there and slipped in the gate. On the way to my favorite spot, I happen to shine the Olight out the window and see yotish eyes looking at us 100 yards away. I put it in park and left the engine running as we bailed out and trotted in that direction. The yote, in the meantime, vamoosed down the hill. We approach the spot while I lipsqueaked like crazy and shined the light around. Yote #3 evidently changed his mind about his escape plan and at the last minute decided to grab a snack for the road, because there he was, running back up the hill straight towards us. I unholstered the Glock. Dr. K_n, who was, by now, presumably out of bullets, graciously volunteered to man the light so I could assume a two handed grip. At 50 yards as the yote came on a run towards us, BOOM! goes the 10mm. Evidently, I was the only one who heard it, because the yote didn't even slow up. BOOM! goes the Glock again, but it was like trying to keep a politician out of a bordello. He didn't even slow down. BOOM! goes the Glock again, and this time he must have heard the bullet whizzing overhead because he hit the ground at 35 yards, looking puzzled. BOOM! goes the Glock one more time, and the yote went AFUD* from a 200 grainer in the noggin.
When all was said and done, we'd made 3 stands and killed 3 yotes. NONE of them were what I would call a classic hunt. Just goes to show, dessert ain't all it's cracked up to be, and patience, persistence (and a LOT of ammo) pays off.
*= All Fours Up Dog.
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