I set out late afternoon with just enough daylight for a couple stands. Summer is set to be, where the wild rye sways lazily in the cross breeze.
It is the second and final stand of the day, I introduce a new coyote in "my" area. For the second series I go straight into distress, when I catch movement to my seven o'clock. He was close as he sensed something was not right with the situation, he turned tail for a hasty retreat. I finally got him to stop at a hundred and fifty or so yards, out in an open field. The thump dropped him in his tracks. As daylight faded I got vocal responses from two separate areas, I got in a shouting match with one as we challenged one another for a moment or two. Eventually all went quite except for the mosquitoes.
I snuck out into the open field to retrieve coyote. It was almost dark as I lost my frame of reference while searching for him. I felt other coyote is still close, almost as if I am being watched. In my head I start scheming about coming back here to try to call his mate. Instead of spreading my scent and presence all over the area I decide to just leave.
First light, I find myself on a fence line with a rye field behind me and a winding creek bottom in front of me. I was setup cross wind with my scent flowing down the fence, anticipating calling them into the meadow that laid between myself and the bottom. While broadcasting distress I heard them running thru the rye behind me. Sounded like deer as they got closer. I don't know why, but I tensed up like I was bracing for impact as I could only hope they broke cover to my right, instead of my left and down wind. In a matter of seconds and apart I have three come thru the fence on my right, the closest one was only ten or fifteen yards. I hit mute and barked as I focused on the first and closest one that stopped. Just a few feet from the call I shot fast.
I racked another shell as the other two ran past me back into the rye. They are like lightning fast ghosts. As I took this pic they where barking threats at me from inside the rye field.
It's late afternoon as I return to the scene of last nights fiasco. I cross downwind of where I shot the coyote last night and I get a whiff of that dead body smell.
I setup a few hundred yards from the previous night's stand on the edge of cover along a creek. I go into my second series and I have two coming in on a dead run. I lowered the volume as they got closer. let them get to about seventy five or eighty yards when I silenced the call and woofed them to a stop.
I shot the lead coyote and she turned into a spinner. As I racked the bolt I saw her drop off into a washout as I tried barking the other coyote to a stop. I threw a hail Marry at the second coyote just before he made it to the tree line.
I don't think this is the mate I came back to try and call. Oh well, a dead coyote is a dead coyote.
I proceeded on down thru the low road about a quarter mile or there bouts. There bouts where all things grow wild.
There bouts where all things are wild and tameless. One final chance to match wits with coyote or the chance to find oneself in between. The stand was a mix of vocals and distress. A half hour later and the day's deeds are done, right or wrong they are just done.
Temps ranged in the upper eighties with mild northerly winds. Scattered clouds accented with a little blood below.
I guess Memorial Day means different things to different people. I know what it is supposed to mean, yet on a personal level I'm still not sure. I think a lot of it is about an extra day off, for one to lose themselves in the company of loved ones. Live the life that others sacrificed, honoring their memories both good and bad. I spent the day doing what brings me joy. I would like to believe that it is as simple as that...
/Predators/HOMnomination_zpskztnelgn.gif[/img]
It is the second and final stand of the day, I introduce a new coyote in "my" area. For the second series I go straight into distress, when I catch movement to my seven o'clock. He was close as he sensed something was not right with the situation, he turned tail for a hasty retreat. I finally got him to stop at a hundred and fifty or so yards, out in an open field. The thump dropped him in his tracks. As daylight faded I got vocal responses from two separate areas, I got in a shouting match with one as we challenged one another for a moment or two. Eventually all went quite except for the mosquitoes.
I snuck out into the open field to retrieve coyote. It was almost dark as I lost my frame of reference while searching for him. I felt other coyote is still close, almost as if I am being watched. In my head I start scheming about coming back here to try to call his mate. Instead of spreading my scent and presence all over the area I decide to just leave.
First light, I find myself on a fence line with a rye field behind me and a winding creek bottom in front of me. I was setup cross wind with my scent flowing down the fence, anticipating calling them into the meadow that laid between myself and the bottom. While broadcasting distress I heard them running thru the rye behind me. Sounded like deer as they got closer. I don't know why, but I tensed up like I was bracing for impact as I could only hope they broke cover to my right, instead of my left and down wind. In a matter of seconds and apart I have three come thru the fence on my right, the closest one was only ten or fifteen yards. I hit mute and barked as I focused on the first and closest one that stopped. Just a few feet from the call I shot fast.
I racked another shell as the other two ran past me back into the rye. They are like lightning fast ghosts. As I took this pic they where barking threats at me from inside the rye field.
It's late afternoon as I return to the scene of last nights fiasco. I cross downwind of where I shot the coyote last night and I get a whiff of that dead body smell.
I setup a few hundred yards from the previous night's stand on the edge of cover along a creek. I go into my second series and I have two coming in on a dead run. I lowered the volume as they got closer. let them get to about seventy five or eighty yards when I silenced the call and woofed them to a stop.
I shot the lead coyote and she turned into a spinner. As I racked the bolt I saw her drop off into a washout as I tried barking the other coyote to a stop. I threw a hail Marry at the second coyote just before he made it to the tree line.
I don't think this is the mate I came back to try and call. Oh well, a dead coyote is a dead coyote.
I proceeded on down thru the low road about a quarter mile or there bouts. There bouts where all things grow wild.
There bouts where all things are wild and tameless. One final chance to match wits with coyote or the chance to find oneself in between. The stand was a mix of vocals and distress. A half hour later and the day's deeds are done, right or wrong they are just done.
Temps ranged in the upper eighties with mild northerly winds. Scattered clouds accented with a little blood below.
I guess Memorial Day means different things to different people. I know what it is supposed to mean, yet on a personal level I'm still not sure. I think a lot of it is about an extra day off, for one to lose themselves in the company of loved ones. Live the life that others sacrificed, honoring their memories both good and bad. I spent the day doing what brings me joy. I would like to believe that it is as simple as that...
/Predators/HOMnomination_zpskztnelgn.gif[/img]
