Hawk-eye
New member
Make lemonade right? Or at least red snow!
I hit a spot this afternoon that I hadn't been to in a couple of years. It was time to get back there and see if the local coyote population was still alive and well since my last visit. Once I began my trek across the field however, I noticed that I wasn't the only visitor this farm had recently. A pair of boot prints in the snow lead right to where I was headed. One set going in. One set going back out. They were from the morning or the evening before. I followed the tracks to the quarter mile fenceline where I usually like to set up but the tracks continued across the open field ahead of me. Not wanting a coyote to cross their trail on its way to me, I continued onward trailing the boot prints further until I reached a disturbance in the snow where the hunter likely sat against the treeline calling for coyotes. Wanting to get away from that area, I kept moving further into the section until I ran out of open ground real estate. My only chance now was to crest over a hill and set up in the timber looking down the hill towards the riverbottom below.
It would have to do. I stood there wishing that I had the shotgun instead of my 22.250 for this change in plans that befell me and thinking that if I got a coyote, it'd now be a long drag back to the truck. It wasn't ideal. My hopes were that by going part way down the hill a coyote would follow the riverbottom up to me or come through the timber on either side of me instead of going behind me where it could wind me from above. Here's a picture of what I was overlooking.
I began by pulling out my Cronk howler and giving out two lonesome howls making them as lonely and friendly as I could. Five minutes later I used my mouth call to give one short series of rabbit distress in hopes that it would agitate a local pair that something was eating their groceries. Then I waited ten more minutes and put the Cronk howler to my lips again giving out 6 female invitation howls. Then i waited.
Silence surrounded me except for the occasional barking of a squirrel in the timber off to my Southeast. All of a sudden at the 20 minute mark i heard, "Whoosh, Whoosh, Whoosh, Whoosh"
Looking straight up above me a bald eagle was flapping it's wings to gain elevation just above the top of the tree closest to me. I wondered how close he had been to me coming up from my backside like that. The encounter left me uneasy. Again the squirrel barked but I didn't pay much mind to it since he had been doing so every once in a while. Sitting in silence again, I noticed a snow covered deer trail that came from the Southeast around the hillside and ran just below me as it traversed the next hill to the Northwest of me. Figuring that might be a place a coyote could travel, I moved my gun to cover the possible approach.
Maybe it was the eagle, maybe it was the squirrel or maybe it was the boot prints I had seen earlier, but i couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone out there? it had been 15 minutes since I had called but still, something just seemed like it was going to happen. Checking my watch i had been here 30 minutes and normally it's be time to get up and leave to get in one more spot before dark. I zipped up my call case, not because I was quite ready to leave but because i wouldn't use another call while I waited. I just looked up from doing that when there he was!!! A coyote coming right up that deer trail towards me in the snow! Only a coyote can do that. One second there's nothing there and the next he's coming right at you almost like some sort of apparition that you almost have to take a second look at just to confirm that it isn't your imagination! Thank goodness I had moved my rifle to cover the trail.
The luxury of calling timber is using the trees around you. As soon as the approaching coyote went behind a cluster of trees I moved the gun on it's bipod the couple of inches that I needed. When I did, in typical coyote awareness, the coyote came to a slow stop. I leaned into the gun and bipod pushing it outward to see around the tree between us and as I did, first half of the coyote's head appeared; then his whole head looking right at me. I slowly kept leaning until his shoulder also filled the reticle. He stared in as if there should have been a quotation bubble above his head saying "What is that?"
I have a lighter trigger pull on this rifle than i do on others and I'm always mindful of it when I'm creeping my finger in on it. This time there was no surprise at the shot however when I pulled straight through the trigger sending a 52 grain hollowpoint only 35 yards to do its deed. The coyote leapt into the air and began howling a painful cry that echoed through the timber and flooded the river bottom below with agony. As he did so he began a death spin. Like a merry-go-round, he spun over and over while crying out for what seemed like a minute. I've had coyotes do the death dance before but this one took the cake. Finally he collapsed into the snow and gave his last breath.
Standing over the coyote moments later I couldn't help but think my howling had been perfect for just this subject. The lonesome howls, the short distress, the female invites all brought this young male in looking for love or companionship. He came straight towards me relaxed and without fear of running into a dominant coyote. His guard hairs weren't up and he was expecting to see a coyote that would be welcoming to try and pair up with. I took a photo from the coyote's perspective. I was sitting in front of the large cedar tree up the hill.
I drug the coyote up the hill and as I was positioning him for a photo with the rifle I had a thought. I laid my Cronk howler on him. A tribute to our late friend here at Predator Masters, Rich Cronk. He had made this cowhorn howler for me several years ago before his passing and it had helped me call in another coyote. I wonder how many of his howlers are still helping hunters put coyotes down to this day?
The coyote had a half-dollar sized exit wound low and behind the front shoulder from the hollowpoint at close range but I couldn't see letting this one go to waste even though I dreaded the thought of the half mile drag back up the hill, through the snow to my truck. So I hooked him up and began the arduous journey out of there.
On the walk out, I met up with the boot prints again. I noticed no drag marks in the snow near them. No blood drip stains in the snow. Had they been successful? Likely not. But I guess I'll never know for sure? They did however change my plans for how I was going to call this spot. Maybe for the better? Maybe for the worse? That I'll never know either? Dragging my coyote out over their tracks did leave me with a smile however.
I hit a spot this afternoon that I hadn't been to in a couple of years. It was time to get back there and see if the local coyote population was still alive and well since my last visit. Once I began my trek across the field however, I noticed that I wasn't the only visitor this farm had recently. A pair of boot prints in the snow lead right to where I was headed. One set going in. One set going back out. They were from the morning or the evening before. I followed the tracks to the quarter mile fenceline where I usually like to set up but the tracks continued across the open field ahead of me. Not wanting a coyote to cross their trail on its way to me, I continued onward trailing the boot prints further until I reached a disturbance in the snow where the hunter likely sat against the treeline calling for coyotes. Wanting to get away from that area, I kept moving further into the section until I ran out of open ground real estate. My only chance now was to crest over a hill and set up in the timber looking down the hill towards the riverbottom below.
It would have to do. I stood there wishing that I had the shotgun instead of my 22.250 for this change in plans that befell me and thinking that if I got a coyote, it'd now be a long drag back to the truck. It wasn't ideal. My hopes were that by going part way down the hill a coyote would follow the riverbottom up to me or come through the timber on either side of me instead of going behind me where it could wind me from above. Here's a picture of what I was overlooking.
I began by pulling out my Cronk howler and giving out two lonesome howls making them as lonely and friendly as I could. Five minutes later I used my mouth call to give one short series of rabbit distress in hopes that it would agitate a local pair that something was eating their groceries. Then I waited ten more minutes and put the Cronk howler to my lips again giving out 6 female invitation howls. Then i waited.
Silence surrounded me except for the occasional barking of a squirrel in the timber off to my Southeast. All of a sudden at the 20 minute mark i heard, "Whoosh, Whoosh, Whoosh, Whoosh"
Looking straight up above me a bald eagle was flapping it's wings to gain elevation just above the top of the tree closest to me. I wondered how close he had been to me coming up from my backside like that. The encounter left me uneasy. Again the squirrel barked but I didn't pay much mind to it since he had been doing so every once in a while. Sitting in silence again, I noticed a snow covered deer trail that came from the Southeast around the hillside and ran just below me as it traversed the next hill to the Northwest of me. Figuring that might be a place a coyote could travel, I moved my gun to cover the possible approach.
Maybe it was the eagle, maybe it was the squirrel or maybe it was the boot prints I had seen earlier, but i couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't alone out there? it had been 15 minutes since I had called but still, something just seemed like it was going to happen. Checking my watch i had been here 30 minutes and normally it's be time to get up and leave to get in one more spot before dark. I zipped up my call case, not because I was quite ready to leave but because i wouldn't use another call while I waited. I just looked up from doing that when there he was!!! A coyote coming right up that deer trail towards me in the snow! Only a coyote can do that. One second there's nothing there and the next he's coming right at you almost like some sort of apparition that you almost have to take a second look at just to confirm that it isn't your imagination! Thank goodness I had moved my rifle to cover the trail.
The luxury of calling timber is using the trees around you. As soon as the approaching coyote went behind a cluster of trees I moved the gun on it's bipod the couple of inches that I needed. When I did, in typical coyote awareness, the coyote came to a slow stop. I leaned into the gun and bipod pushing it outward to see around the tree between us and as I did, first half of the coyote's head appeared; then his whole head looking right at me. I slowly kept leaning until his shoulder also filled the reticle. He stared in as if there should have been a quotation bubble above his head saying "What is that?"
I have a lighter trigger pull on this rifle than i do on others and I'm always mindful of it when I'm creeping my finger in on it. This time there was no surprise at the shot however when I pulled straight through the trigger sending a 52 grain hollowpoint only 35 yards to do its deed. The coyote leapt into the air and began howling a painful cry that echoed through the timber and flooded the river bottom below with agony. As he did so he began a death spin. Like a merry-go-round, he spun over and over while crying out for what seemed like a minute. I've had coyotes do the death dance before but this one took the cake. Finally he collapsed into the snow and gave his last breath.
Standing over the coyote moments later I couldn't help but think my howling had been perfect for just this subject. The lonesome howls, the short distress, the female invites all brought this young male in looking for love or companionship. He came straight towards me relaxed and without fear of running into a dominant coyote. His guard hairs weren't up and he was expecting to see a coyote that would be welcoming to try and pair up with. I took a photo from the coyote's perspective. I was sitting in front of the large cedar tree up the hill.
I drug the coyote up the hill and as I was positioning him for a photo with the rifle I had a thought. I laid my Cronk howler on him. A tribute to our late friend here at Predator Masters, Rich Cronk. He had made this cowhorn howler for me several years ago before his passing and it had helped me call in another coyote. I wonder how many of his howlers are still helping hunters put coyotes down to this day?
The coyote had a half-dollar sized exit wound low and behind the front shoulder from the hollowpoint at close range but I couldn't see letting this one go to waste even though I dreaded the thought of the half mile drag back up the hill, through the snow to my truck. So I hooked him up and began the arduous journey out of there.
On the walk out, I met up with the boot prints again. I noticed no drag marks in the snow near them. No blood drip stains in the snow. Had they been successful? Likely not. But I guess I'll never know for sure? They did however change my plans for how I was going to call this spot. Maybe for the better? Maybe for the worse? That I'll never know either? Dragging my coyote out over their tracks did leave me with a smile however.
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