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"Prairie Goat" Ghosts or Hunt For White OctoberThe Continuing Saga of Two Currahee Antelope Hunters(Episode Three)

An urgent message arrives on March 16, 2008 at Jerry's outdated Gateway Model DX420X PC. Jerry's anti-virus program--free from Kentucky Fried Chicken--indicated that a known "Trojan virus" was attempting to contact me--it was my ole hunting partner, SP4 Dean "Mule Lopper" Morrison, a former "grenadier blooper" with Charlie Company, 3-506th aka "boat trooper"--I knew right off it was him. "Jerry, did I miss the due date for sending in my antelope hunt application?" asked Deano, with a tone of panic in his voice! I sent back a quick response assuring him that he hadn't missed the deadline and that he had until June 1 to get his application filled out and sent in. I could just hear a sigh of relief when he read my response!

Moving ahead on the 2008 antelope hunt, I will begin the story a few days prior to Deano's arrival at Glacier International Airport at Kalispell, some 90 miles from my home in Libby. Several days before leaving Libby for the much anticipated hunt in Zortman, Montana, I began collecting and packing all the supplies and equipment we would be needing for our three-day stay and hunt--including 1200 rounds of ammo for Deano. Opening day for the hunt would be October 12th, and our hunt would take us thru to the 14th. Three days had always been enough time to fill our tags. BTW, this year we had eight antelope tags among us--three for Shawn, three for me, and two for Deano. I had no plans to shoot anything but a "wall hanging buck" on this trip, due to the fact that both my chest-type freezers were already full of antelope, white-tailed and mule deer, elk, grouse, fish, and yes, huckleberries! I had no room for more meat--besides, all my children's have 'flown the coop' and Donna won't allow me to eat as much fried meat as I have in past years! It is now broccoli and squash casseroles, whole wheat pancakes, and oatmeal! You know the routine! You know how some guys will slip around and smoke a cigarette when the wife doesn't know it--well, I slip in a meal of chicken-fried elk steak every now and then! Moving on... Be sure to click on each small picture (thumbnail) to enlarge for better viewing.

On Friday, October 10, 2008 (D-day -2), I collected up all the food items and packed it in coolers, with the exception of a few items we would pick up in Havre, Montana--the last large town before heading into the hunting district and our final destination of Zortman. We decided to take two vehicles this year, due to the fact that both hunting rigs are quite small to fit three hefty guys into just one of them. Both my son-in-law, Shawn, and I have Ford Ranger pickups,

which have limited space.

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On Saturday, October 11 (D-day -1), Shawn and I left Libby around 0700H and headed east to Kalispell to pick up Deano, eat breakfast, gas up, pick up last minute items at Wall Mart and continue east to Glacier National Park, where we would cross the Centennial Divide and head into the plains. The distance from Libby to

Kalispell is approximately 90 miles; from there to Zortman makes the total trip approximately 460 miles. Overall, the weather was looking great (photo left), with some overcast conditions and slight indications of light rain as we approached Glacier N. P. As we headed toward the divide, conditions began to change. We expected to see snow, as is usual at higher elevations this time of year. Sure enough (photo right), we found snow.

Unlike last year's trip (picture on right), as soon as we crossed the divide and headed into the plains (photo on left), it was looking good with only overcast conditions, but no snow as was in 2007 (photo right). We felt pretty

sure it would be good hunting weather this year. Did we have a surprise coming!

After leaving the Highline (main route east to west across the top of Montana), we headed the 55 miles south through the Belknap Indian Reservation to Zortman. Before we headed south, however, we observed a new addition to the prairie--a field of wind generators.

We arrived at the old cabin #4 (our favorite cabin) right about sundown. No remodeling or changes from last year...including no improvement in the hot water tank size (small!). Deano elected to take the choice "foxhole". The cabin comes with bunk beds and a single bed in a small "cubby hole", which I claim ownership to,

due to Deano's snoring. Shawn did our cooking--a fine cook that boy is--with me helping with some of the preparations, and Deano doing the evening dishes. After settling into our cabin Saturday night, the weather began to change drastically with snow fall. We figured to wake up with a dusting of snow on opening day.


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It is amazing how much one can cram into one of these small cabins operated by the "Buckhorn Store". There are seven of these cabins owned and operated by this guy, Rod, who's establishment I have been patronizing for over 20 years hunting out of Zortman. He hasn't made any improvements during that time either! LOL

D-day (Sunday, October 12) arrived. The alarm went off at 0500H and feet hit the floor...a cold floor! Deano stepped outside for his morning cigarette and we heard this..."Oh @%$&@!That could mean one of two things! A grizzly bear had followed us over to Zortman and he was waiting for us to exit the cabin, or "Houston, we have a problem!". The photo on the right doesn't do credit to the actual conditions! The wind was blowing, the temperature in the 20s, snowing....

and foggy! What the heck, we three were use to a little snowy weather, so we got dressed, ate a hardy breakfast and headed out to find some antelope.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize the day would be a miserable one with the wind, blowing snow, and cold. It is almost impossible to glass for antelope in such conditions. However, we persevered! The frozen ground conditions allowed us to go about anyplace we wanted. After checking out our first site and finding

visibility about 50 feet, we headed to our second favorite location, where we knew conditions should be better. After driving into that location a short distance away, we left the truck and Deano headed over the nearby ridge, while I walked in a different direction to look over another ridge or two. No sooner had I reached the top of the second ridge, I spotted a herd of about 50 antelope staring at me from some 500 yards away. The herd moved parallel and down ridge from me and began circling around toward Deano's location. The herd began to move closer to my position at one point (approx. 400 yards), a record-class buck among them. I decided to take a shot at the buck when the herd stopped momentarily. My shot was high and the herd took off at a run. I was sure that Deano would hear my shot and see the herd moving in his direction, so I waited. Sure enough, a small squad-size firefight was heard coming from Deano's direction. From all the gunfire, I expected to see gunships arrive on the scene shortly!


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After about 20 minutes, I headed back to the truck. After waiting 15-20 more minutes, I see Deano--out of breath, sweating, coughing, dragging his rifle--coming up the ridge back to the pickup! "Well?" I asked. "Where's your antelope?" I was expecting to hear this long, drawn out sad story of how on a dead run, the wind and snow had blurred his shot, but not this time! "I shot a big, fat doe down over the hill," says Deano, "near the water tank down in the bottom of the draw! The herd came right to me and then stopped and looked at me less than 100 yards away. I had my pick of any animal in the herd, including several big bucks [no buck tag this year]!" "Well, why aren't you down there dressing it out?" I ask him. He tells me that he'll need help bringing it up and that he saw a truck on a nearby road not far across the sage from where his doe was...yea, RIGHT! So, I suggested that he go back down and dress his animal and I would drive around and try to locate his imaginary road, which I tried to locate with no success. About this time, Shawn--hearing the small firefight--drove over to our location, and the two of us headed down the ridge with backpacks to help Deano retrieve his doe. Just as we approached Deano's location, Shawn and I (separated by some 50 years) see this antelope not more than 50 feet from Deano standing looking at him. The animal went unnoticed by Deano, who was bent-over and busy dressing out his doe. Shawn, not yet seeing Deano, drew up on the standing antelope. I yelled, "Don't fire, Deano is immediately below the antelope!" Shawn pulled up and hearing my yell, Deano looked up and spotted the second antelope standing looking at him less than 25 feet away. He grabbed his nearby rifle as the antelope ran past him, then fired off a couple of rounds, dropping his second antelope! The trooper had just filled his second tag. Less than an hour and half into opening day, his hunt was over. After the three of us packed his two animals up to the truck, we continued to hunt for that "wall hanger" for me. The weather conditions didn't improve at all the rest of opening day.

Deano and I got back to the cabin by nightfall. About an hour later, Shawn was still MIA. We were about to go looking for him when he finally came driving in. He walked in with a big "shit-eating" grin on his face and told us to take a look at the pictures he had on his camera! That rascal had bagged his largest buck antelope yet--AND he had shot MY "wall hanger"

buck! He had come upon the buck on his way back in to Zortman just before running out of shooting light.

Monday, D-day +1 began clear and cold. The snow storm had passed, the weather was turning off warmer, and we knew that would mean gumbo soil conditions by noontime--no off-road travel (AT ALL). By 1000H, the snow began melting quite fast with the rising temperature. By noontime, we were confined to the


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main paved highways in the area and the few graveled roads leading to ranch houses and main road leading to Zortman. By late afternoon, the snow level went from 8" to bare ground or just barely an inch of snow on the ground in some areas. By the end of the day, Shawn had filled his remaining two tags (does) and returned to the cabin to finish cleaning his does and get them packed away for the trip home the following day. Dean and I continued to search for a big buck. I put the stalk on a large 15-17" buck before the landscape turned to gumbo mud; but like ghosts, the monster buck, as well as the entire herd of antelope disappeared in the many draws and "coolies" in the area. We spotted 150-200 antelope during the second day's hunt, but it was almost impossible to get close enough to hunt them. I also witnessed something not seen very often by a hunter. I watched a lone coyote attempt to bring down an adult antelope, which I assumed had been wounded, but was still fairly mobile. The coyote would rush in, attack the antelope, and then run out some 15-20 feet and wait for another opportunity to attack. This went on for about 10 minutes before I drove off, with the antelope still holding its own.

By end of second day of hunting, I was the only one still holding my antelope tags in my hand. I still had three tags to fill, but I had only planned to use one for that "wall hanger" and the other two only if neither Dean nor Shawn had an opportunity to fill theirs (for meat). I was only interested in bagging that large antelope buck--one that would outrank the one I already have hanging on my wall at home. Since the Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks fall survey indicated that our hunting district (600) had the largest population of mature antelope bucks in past ten years for the entire state, I figured that my chance of bagging one would be the best in years. True enough, we observed the largest bucks we had ever seen during our hunting in the area. Every herd we glassed had two or three impressive bucks.

The final day of our hunt (Tuesday, October 14), began clear, warmer and drier (photo on left). One nice thing about the prairie landscape is that it dries out quickly--within 24 hours. We had our cabin reserved for several more days, if needed, but decided to pack-up and head home to Libby on Tuesday. By Wednesday, the hunting conditions would improve and return to what we accustomed to--dry, sunny and temps in the 60s. However, with my two hunting

partners filled out, their hunting enthusiasm had diminished greatly. I made the decision to hunt on the way out; and if I got another opportunity to bag a big buck, fine--if not, it wasn't a loss. Considering the snowstorm and miserable hunting conditions the previous two days, I could wait for next season. Not bagging my big buck this time would just make me more anxious to hunt next year. Anyway, antelope season remains open through November 9, and if I wanted to return to Zortman and hunt both antelope and mule deer (after Oct. 26 when regular season opens), I could. With elk and deer regular season opening this coming Sunday (Oct. 26), I will be wasting plenty of fuel driving the roads around Libby looking for game.

On our way out, we began to spot antelope right along the road we were traveling. The opportunity to shoot does or smaller bucks presented itself several times. In one location, we spotted a herd close by coming from a large pond area; and I decided to put the stalk on a large buck in the herd (the above photo). I got within 200 yards of him, took aim behind his shoulders and fired. I heard the round hit farther back than I had planned, and the herd made several


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runs/jumps, then went out of sight over the low ridge they were standing on. I moved to the ridge top, expecting to see my big buck standing or lying on the ground, but saw no buck or herd of antelope before my eyes! Shawn (in his truck) and Dean in mine were watching, and neither could see where the herd had gone. We searched the area on foot and from vehicles for nearly an hour and found no trace of either the buck or the herd. Antelope are prairie ghosts when they need to be. I'm certain that buck was hit and is now coyote or eagle food. Seldom in my 45 years of hunting have I wounded an animal and not recovered it; however, this time I didn't. The photo above was taken a short while later on our way out of the hunting unit. The day had turned off beautifully, with perfect hunting conditions. At one point on our way out (still inside our hunting unit), a large buck antelope trotted across the highway in front of us! We saw lots of animals on this year's hunt.

Each fall when I travel over to the eastside to hunt antelope, I pass through Cut Bank, Montana, which was the hometown of SP4 Alan J. Kultgen, a medic in 1Lt. James Stone's Recon Platoon. Alan was wounded on April 17, 1970 from an enemy booby-trap and died from his wounds on April 22, 1970. On our way back home to Libby, Dean and I went by the Crown Hill Cemetery just outside Cut Bank and visited his gravesite.

About two weeks back, I received a phone call from Judy Flanagan in Bluffton, SC. She had heard about my book--"My Gift To You"--and wanted to purchase a copy. She told me that she and Alan had grown up together in Cut Bank. She had had a crush on him, even though Alan had a steady girlfriend who he had planned to marry on return home from Vietnam. She gave me the name of Alan's girlfriend, remarked that she still lives in Cut Bank, and that Alan had sent her lots of pictures of him

from Vietnam. I had intended to contact her on my trip, but left her information at home. I will have more to say about Alan in next month's newsletter.

Cut Bank, Montana, is located on the Highline (most northern interstate running east-west across the US, where the mountains meets the plains. It is a small town located in the open high plains (wheat country) and gets very cold and windy in the winter months. Here's a website link to Cut Bank, check it out: http://www.cutbankchamber.com/visit/tourist.htm


http://www.cutbankchamber.com/visit/tourist.htm

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After visiting Alan's gravesite, we continued our trip back to Libby. It was good to see the east slopes of the Rockies--next to Glacier N. P. appear on the horizon. We were expecting to run into snow, but like anyplace in Montana, if you don't like the weather, wait 15 minutes! The trip back over the divide and Glacier N. P. was as

beautiful as always, no matter what time of year you see it.

We arrived home in Libby early evening and got a good night's rest. Early Wednesday morning, Dean tackled the task of boning out and freezing his two animals for shipment home to South Carolina. Later in the day, Dean and I took a ride up the Kootenai River from Libby to enjoy the fall scenery (photo on left). The following day, Thursday was a day of fun and relaxation--trip to nearby town of Bonners Ferry, Idaho, and the Indian Casino! When we arrived

back to Libby, Dean had a big "shit-eating grin" on his face and three one-hundred dollar bills tucked away in his wallet!

On Friday, we packed up Dean's antelope meat and headed to Kalispell (91 miles away), where he would ship his meat, spend the night and fly out of Glacier International Airport early Saturday morning. Before leaving Libby, he absolutely had to visit Helen's Huckleberry Store, where he loaded up on huckleberry pancake mix, candies, and other items for his wife, Suzy. When we reached Kalispell, Dean got an unexpected surprise when we took his cooler of meat to the UPS store for quick shipment back home to SC. After weighing the cooler and determining the shipping address, the lady said, "That will be $483.35...next day air." Dean's response after regaining his senses was..."HOW MUCH?" I had already suggested to the trooper that he just take it with him on his flight. The extra expense would be minimal compared to "next day delivery" via UPS. Naturally, his decision was....take it with him!

We departed company at the Outlaw Inn, where Dean had room reservations. Donna and I returned home to Libby with memories of another exciting antelope hunt and enjoyable visit with an old friend.

Jerry in Montana


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