It’s always hard to pack for the first trip of the year, especially when its 90 degrees here in Minnesota and I need to prepare for weather in Northern Quebec.  There the weather could be 80 or it could be snowing, but you had better be prepared for it all.

I’ve been lucky enough to go on two caribou trips prior to this one, but as a photographer there is always a huge sense of excitement prior to a caribou hunt.  Just maybe you’ll hit the migration and be surrounded by hundreds of animals making it into a filming paradise.

Got bug spray?
Gordy Krahn and I were lucky enough to arrive at camp in style.  We got to take a sweet helicopter ride to the lodge and film the entire way.  Upon arrival we realized the migration was still in Labrador, east of Quebec.  However we were surrounded by, not hundreds, but millions of black flies.  I’ve been to some buggy areas before, but this topped the charts!  In all 70 pounds of gear, all I packed for bugs was a little head net and a bottle of spray.  Big Problem.

Gordy and I hiked out for our first sit and I was feeling lucky with my bug net and spray.  That is until they got under the net and started chewing up my neck and face.  Gordy was sitting only feet away and hardly got bit, but I was nearly eaten alive!  I counted 47 fly bites on my neck and face!  Three daring little flies even bit my eyelid causing it to swell shut.  Now I’ve been given a lot of nicknames, but my new camp names were “lumpy” and the “little troll.”

It’s all about the people
I could still see the viewfinder on the camera so after popping a few Benadryl, Gordy and I were right back at it.  One of the best parts about caribou camp is truly the people.  We were able to share camp with a father and son, several groups of friends, and two young fellas who were 86 and 83 years old.  These two jokesters had been hunting together for more than 50 years!  They both decided it was time to try a caribou hunt together in Quebec and hope to return for years to come.

I can only hope that I am alive, hunting, laughing and joking around when I’m in my eighties.  These two guys had a great sense of humor and the camp joke was what would get stolen next.  Upon arrival in Montreal these two guys had their vehicle stolen with all their gear.  The outfitter got them suited up, and instead of moping around they only joked about who’s fault it was.  It was refreshing to see two people enjoying each other’s company and truly having a great time.

Getting down to business
Gordy and I did some hard hunting in the following days.  We did a lot of walking, glassing, and waiting, in that order.  In fact, we did four solid days of it.  The second to last afternoon was when everything changed.  We got into caribou!

First we found a small group of bulls and we made a stalk.  Two bulls busted but there was still one left.  We searched the tundra and finally spotted the bull.  We scurried up toward him and got setup.  Our guide, Perry, put his hands straight up and started swaying back and forth.  I only caught a glimpse of this out of the corner of my eye.  There was no time to question him now.  That big bull spotted him and started walking right in, just like we were reeling him in.

Caribou are incredibly curious animals and this bull wanted to know what in the world was invading his space on the tundra.  We got several minutes of beautiful footage before Gordy squeezed the trigger and made a perfect kill.  What a relief, one caribou down and if we could get another that would be bonus.

Well, here came the bonus round.  We switched locations and found even more caribou.  It was like a mini-migration and we were right in the middle of it.  Almost everywhere you looked you could see a caribou.  Instead of rushing ourselves we sat back, glassed and filmed until we found two giants.  There were to big bulls off in the distance that were way bigger than everything else.  We zeroed in on these and made our stalk.

Lots of caribou is great for filming but not so great for stalking.  No matter which way you turn you would possibly bump caribou.  We decided to go straightforward but take it slow.  None of the caribou spooked, but we didn’t interest them much.  Caribou are primarily concerned with wolves or bears, and we definitely didn’t match that description.  They obviously thought we didn’t pose a threat, big mistake.

After several minutes of beautiful footage Gordy squeezed the trigger on an even bigger bull.  This trip is proof everything can change in just one afternoon.  We went from getting skunked day after day to fabulous hunting in only a matter of hours.

Melissa Bachman

Instead of flying home like most civilized human beings after a long trip away from home in Quebec, I decided to go straight to Montana.  What’s there you ask?  Powder River Outfitters and some giant mule deer!

Last year I was lucky enough to take my first mule deer ever, but I wanted to do it again with a bow.  I also decided to step it up a notch and try it by spot ‘n stalk hunting.  This lowers your kill percentage, but I figured if I was successful it would be that much sweeter.  The first thing my guide Ken said to me is it usually takes at least eight stalks before one is successful. Well, I thought, we better get started then.

September advantages
There are a couple good things about hunting mule deer in early September.  No.1 – you have a chance at taking a buck still in velvet-something I’ve never done. And No. 2 – the bucks are in bachelor groups.  That means when you find on big guy you’ll probably find his buddies in close proximity.  Now this can be both good and bad.  It allows you to pick out the biggest buck, but let me tell you the big guys didn’t get big by bedding off alone.  They get right in the center of the group and obviously believe in the idea of safety in numbers.

Right away we spotted some great bucks, but what you need to find is a buck that you can get at.  Many of them were bedded in areas that would be impossible to get to without blowing out other deer or getting busted prior to your arrival.  Then as we were going to a new location we spotted a buck standing all by himself on a fence line.  It seemed hard to believe that this nice buck was alone so we just waited and glassed, and it’s a good thing we did.  The longer we watched the more bucks we picked out.  There were at least six giant bucks all bedded together, but most importantly they were in a spot that I thought I could get to.

Let the quest begin!
I strapped my bow on my back, grabbed my quiver and started belly crawling.  I picked out several points that I wanted to get to.  The last point would bring me 20 yards from the bedded giants, but the trick would be getting there.  The ground was extremely flat with one dip near their bedding area.  I crawled through some tough terrain and got right to my spot.  I ranged the bedded bucks and they were at 18 yards!

Now I was getting nervous.  How on earth was I suppose to get to full draw from my belly?  I thought the weeds were a bit higher and I assumed I could draw from my knees.  This was not the case.  

I slowly got to my knees, but I couldn’t get my bow drawn for the life of me.  I panicked and stood up to draw and everything busted!  I couldn’t believe it; I thought the hard part was done.  I got to my spot, but I couldn’t close the deal.  Looking back, I should have drawn in the dip and slowly walked over the hill at full draw, but hindsight is 20/20.  I understand it takes several stalks, but this was hard to swallow.  There were a couple bucks that would be pushing Boone & Crocket and now they were just a memory.  Frustrated as I was, I knew I would do better next time, and most importantly I had learned a lot from that stalk.  Next time they wouldn’t be so lucky.

Frustrations mount, but patience pays off
When these bucks took off it looked like they would be running until dark.  Boy was I wrong!  About four hours later we were glassing a few hundred yards from where we saw them last and they all came flying out of an old barn.  The entire group had only gone over the hill and bedded down in the shade.  What a kick in the teeth!

Three days later, and several stalks down, we came back to this same area and decided to glass the area before walking through.  We spotted three bucks in a low swamp bedded by that same old barn.  Two of the bucks were smaller, but one was a super high and thick mule deer.  He was in a tough spot but we came up with a plan.  I would use the hay bails to get close.  I could keep them between the buck and me almost the entire way.  This would also give me something to draw behind allowing me to step out at full draw.  Sometimes plans work, sometimes they don’t…but this time everything came together.

I stalked up on this big buck, got to full draw, and came out from behind the bail and made a forty-yard broadside shot.  The feeling of accomplishment was overwhelming.  Finally after several stocks, a lot of patience and ultimately learning from my mistakes, I had taken a great Montana mule deer.

Melissa Bachman

Spring is a time for early morning turkeys and late afternoon bear. I’m more the afternoon type of girl, but I do make exceptions. With bear hunting in Alaska, no exceptions are needed. You wake up at 9, eat breakfast and then hunt for the remainder of the day… sounds like the perfect hunt on earth. And it was.

There are several ways to hunt bear, but spot and stalk is the ultimate challenge. If you want to make that even harder, add a bow and try to make each stalk with four people.

When I say each stalk, I fully mean you will be making numerous stalks. Things will go wrong. The wind swirls, rocks slide and bear disappear. You will also run into something we called “pop weed” a.k.a. kelp. As the tide goes out kelp litter the shores where you will be stalking. Unfortunately when you step on them they make a loud pop. I can promise you it doesn’t make for an easy stalk.

In hopes of avoiding any popping, you find yourself jumping from rock to rock trying to keep your balance. Because of the tide, newly visible rocks are covered in slime making them extremely slippery. I can’t even tell you how many times I wiped out… but I learned to do it gracefully, if that’s even possible. Practice makes perfect, right?

Hunting on Prince of Wales Island
This was an unguided hunt outside of Ketchikan on Prince of Wales Island, also known as the black bear capital of the world. The area we were hunting is public land in the Tongass National Forest. It’s a place anyone can hunt if they do their research.

You need maps, a great boat and someone who thoroughly understands the tides and the ocean. I was hunting with a friend of mine from the Alaskan Coast Guard, o I guess you won’t find anyone much more knowledgeable than that.

Each day we headed out in a big boat and made the long journey from Ketchikan to Prince of Wales Island. Upon arrival we glassed the grass flats and kept our eyes peeled for any kind of movement. Once we spotted a bear we would pile into the small raft, decide where the best place was to hit shore and then put on the stalk.

After several long stalks we got within rifle range of a beautiful bear feeding. There was no way I could cut the distance before he hit the trees so I let my brother step up to the plate. He made a perfect shot and we had our first bear down later named “fluffy”.

These bear were coming straight from their dens so their fur was in tip-top condition and their behavior was fairly predictable. The bear needed to find green grass to get their digestive tracks started after their long hibernation. This meant there would be a short window when these huge boars may show themselves each evening.

On day two we spotted a giant bear feeding near a creek. It would be a long stalk, but we decided we were up for the challenge. We made a 500-yard stalk and closed the distance to 35 yards. The wind was perfect and the bear was near a creek, so our sound was masked by the running water.

We used every log and rock to our advantage and finally reached our destination. It was a huge fallen tree that provided just enough cover for us to get setup. Just as I was getting ready to draw, the wind swirled and the bear was on alert. Their sense of smell is unbelievable and this guy had us busted. Within moments he was lunging for cover and I was left with an empty feeling in my stomach.

Staying positive
Instead of getting down, I decided that if it happened once, it could happen again. Time was on our side and I knew this island had a lot more bear; I just needed to be patient. I decided to consider this a perfect “practice” stalk.

The weather stayed calm and allowed for perfect hunting. If the winds pick up even the slightest bit the seas can get nasty – fast. This isn’t like the little lakes in Minnesota; it is big dangerous water. If the weather is bad you have no choice but to stay inside, so I was thrilled with calm seas and blue skies.

Well not quite blue… Ketchikan is located in a rain forest and you might as well just get used to the drizzly conditions. Good raingear and the right attitude is a must. The bear are used to the rain, so as a hunter you better learn to enjoy it as well.

The trip was winding down and I was getting nervous. There were a lot of bear, but the stalks were tough. I refused to switch to a rifle, even though that would virtually guarantee me a bear. I had one goal in mind when I came on this trip. A spot and stalk archery bear. I decided I would rather go home empty handed than switch halfway through the trip.

With several hours to go before dark we spotted a huge boar feeding across a long shore. He was headed toward us and we made our move. We hit shore, all four of us, and made it to the edge of the timber. A small hill blocked our view of the open flat and our guess was the big boy was on the other side.

Patience pays off
Time to get aggressive. We got situated and when there was still no sign we hit the predator call. This was a homemade fawn in distress call that worked like magic. Within moments that boar was on top of the hill looking for his next meal.

I slowly drew while he was facing us and held my pin right on that big white V on his chest. I wanted to let go more than anything in the world. But I knew I had to make a good shot and a frontal shot was way too risky.

Thankfully he turned and as he quartered away I released my arrow. Initially it looked a little far back, but it hit at the perfect angle and made a clean pass through. The excitement of calling in an enormous bear within archery range was one of the best feelings of accomplishment I have ever experienced.

After an impatient 20 minutes we decided to follow the blood trail. We only went 25 yards before a huge bundle of black caught our attention. This bear was way bigger than we all expected and his fur was in mint condition. He was nearly 7 feet long, almost 450 pounds, and unquestionably a book bear!

Melissa Bachman

Dates: Nov 12-17
Area: Pierre, South Dakota
Hunter: Mark Kayser
Species: Whitetail

Flying straight from Kentucky to South Dakota, whitetails are once again on the menu. Back on the road with Mark Kayser, and we’re in his old stomping grounds near Pierre, South Dakota. For this hunt we had a whitetail only tag… so we figured we would probably run into a world class muley at some point. If so, we could shoot lots of video, but that would be all.

Upon arrival at our new home for the week we found the river high – really high. Normally you can drive right across it and access the hunting land on the opposite side. As luck would have it that was no longer possible… looks like we were in for some walking. We headed out two hours early the first morning to ensure sufficient time to get situated and accomplish the long walk. The first obstacle would be the high river.

We couldn’t drive across it, so I was interested how in the world we were planning to wade across it. Well, ask and you shall receive. Obviously this was not the first year with high waters, so the rancher had a form of transportation already setup. A trolley cart if you will. A cable was run from one end to the other which supported a wooden box that you crawled into. Once you were settled in it was hand and arm power that brought you across the river. Simple transportation, you needed to pull one hand over the other and shimmy your way across the river. Once on the other side we tied up our cart for safe travel back when the day was over.

Mark Kayser is not the type of hunter who enjoys waiting for whitetails to come to him. Instead he brings them in close, real close. The first morning we were slowly hunting our way through an aspen grove walking a 100 yards, then stopping to grunt and rattle.

He called in two beautiful mule deer to fifteen yards! He had these bucks fired up, mad, and looking for a fight. Only problem, they couldn’t locate us. They stomped around and we stood motionlessly. Eventually they left, but what an amazing experience. We were also able to watch two muleys parallel walking, sizing each other up, and obviously looking for a fight. I hoped we would have front row seats, but dominance was conveyed without any violence and we moved on.

When you hunt South Dakota, you better be prepared for a wide variety of weather – and DON’T forget about the wind!  With 50mph winds and almost blizzard-like conditions I found myself wondering what type of job did I sign up for?  Who works in these conditions?

Hard little ice balls were pelting my face and I could hardly keep my binos clear, much less hold them steady. Deer obviously can’t disappear during this type of weather, but they do take cover. Although to find them, you need to sit right out in the worst of it. We would have been much more comfortable out of the wind, but we were out there to hunt; not stay warm and cozy.

Our efforts finally paid off when we watched two bucks rutting along a tree line that paralleled the river. We stood up, almost got blown over by a strong gust and started booking it down the steep hills. Even though it was cold, it only put a thin layer of icy crust over the greasy gumbo that lie beneath our feet. I had a heavy backpack, my tripod strapped on the outside, and my camera slug around the front of my body. A couple times I came close to loosing my footing.

Then, as we were heading down the last steep bank, I completely lost all footing and wiped out!

My feet slipped out right from underneath me, and my first reaction was to protect the camera. So instead of catching myself I stuck my camera in front and the great slide began. Within seconds I was at the bottom, and made great time down the steep hill.

To say I was covered in mud would be an understatement. My poor tripod was almost unrecognizable and everything from my hat to my boots had a two-inch slimy layer of gumbo glued to it. On the bright side, I figured if we needed to crawl at least my entire backside would blend in perfectly with the terrain.

Quickly forgetting the mud, we had two bucks to track down. We snuck in silently using the river bottom and 50mph wind for cover. Once I was setup on the tripod Kayser made a few soft grunts, but NOTHING. In this wind a buck 15 yards away would probably have a tough time hearing, so we switched to a little louder tactic.

As Mark crashed the antlers together, broke limbs, and kicked up dirt, it was no surprise we immediately got the attention of a nearby buck. He walked in on us and stood at twenty yards, dumbfounded. Again we stood motionless and the deer finally moved on. The buck was gorgeous but only had about a 125-inch rack and frankly we were looking for his big brother.

Within seconds of his departure his big brother showed his face. He was only twenty yards in front of Mark, but as he circled us a big tree stood right in the way. Mark had a perfect shot but I had to call him off because of this giant truck blocking my view. The buck swung around and stood motionlessly at 20 yards. I now had him in my viewfinder, but only from the chin up. Mark had the same view, and even with a gun that close, there was no shot.

It’s almost as if the buck knew that if he took one more step there would be severe problems. So he just stood there. We could see his rack perfectly and there was no question this guy was a shooter. He had great mass–not super wide–but an old buck with a grey face and extra dark scull cap. Finally, he moved but stayed in the thick brush and scurried out, never giving us another shot. Mark could have killed this buck, but because of the slight difference in angles the deer was blocked so I had no choice but to call him off the buck.

We had worked hard and braved the weather only to let a trophy walk. But that’s hunting, and hunting with a camera adds yet another level of difficulty to say the least. It’s double the scent, double the movement, and now you need double the shooting lanes, not just a clear shot for the hunter but a clear lane to film as well. The walk home was long, cold and windy and we both knew if things would have been just a little different we could be sipping hot chocolate in the protection of a house, but unfortunately that was not the case.

The last and final morning the weather seemed pleasant and deer were on the move. We set up on the edge of the woods so we could see a great distance. As soon as I had good camera light Mark made a few grunts and BAM – a buck was on top of us. The sun was just on the verge of peeking over the horizon and the light was truly stunning. This buck came in as if Mark had hooked him with a lure and was reeling him in on my command.

The footage was some of the best I’ve ever filmed and the hardest decision we had to make was whether or not we should take this buck.  He was a mature deer, perfect light, tons of footage and only twenty-five yards! I think the image of the big buck from the day before was still playing in Mark’s head as he made the decision to pass. We looked twenty-yards over to this deer’s left and another mature buck stood looking for the source of the grunts. They were cookie cutter bucks, and made for great TV but still not quite what we wanted. At noon our stomachs were getting hungry so we decided to climb up to a lookout point and eat our sandwiches.

Mark snuck over the hillside first and quickly crawled back saying there was a shooter below us. I setup the tripod, let Mark get into position and crept over the crest of the hill. The buck stood there at 125 yards and within seconds was heading for the brush. You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought. I followed the buck through the brush and saw an opening coming up.

As soon as the buck got into the clearing, Mark let out a loud bark like a coyote and the buck stopped. Mark fired and knocked the buck right over the ledge. What a feeling of accomplishment.

We rushed down to the buck, and to make things even sweeter, he was the SAME buck as the day before. Remember the big guy who stood in the brush at twenty yards? Well, a little persistence, a lot of walking, and ultimately passing the smaller bucks and we had the trophy that had eluded us earlier.

As tough as it may be hunting with a camera at time, the feeling of success is twice as gratifying.

Dates: Nov. 12 – 13
Area: Wall, South Dakota
Hunter: Melissa with her brother, Aaron
Species: Mule Deer

I still haven’t figured out if I’m lucky or crazy. After hunting for three weeks straight, I finally had a little slowdown. A rare break in my schedule to do whatever I wanted for five days … so what’s a girl to do? Well, I did what I love most: Back to the field for another hunting adventure. Now, thinking about it, I guess I never really left the field except for the few hours it took to drive west. I feel truly blessed that my job involves what I love; however, when I do get some time off, all I still seem to do is hunt.  Lucky or crazy … you make the call!

After completing an incredible whitetail show with Mark Kayser near Pierre, South Dakota I decided it was my turn. I headed west to Wall in search of giant mule deer with Tom Kruger’s Guide Service (605-279-2240). My younger brother Aaron agreed to come join me as my cameraman and honorary gear carrier.

He quickly found out filming is a lot harder than it looks, and that his sister packs too much gear! We stayed in beautiful, brand new cabins, in downtown Wall. (In case you ever decide to go to Wall it’s nearly impossible to miss as the signs for Wall Drug start hundreds of miles before the town. Everyone who has ever been there knows exactly what I’m talking about!) I had a hard time convincing Aaron this was not how it always is.

He was giving me a hard time that I live a pretty cushy life. But this was an exception; accommodations are not always this nice. We met Tom, our guide and outfitter, at the local café for breakfast. We headed out after catching up and sharing a few hunting stories from the past year.

Within an hour we were on our first big muley, which meant the first big decision. The buck was super wide and in range, however he didn’t have much for forks.  I just couldn’t squeeze the trigger knowing what this area has to offer when it comes to mule deer. My decision was obviously the right one.

A couple hours later we spotted exactly what we were looking for: He was a beautiful, wide buck, with nice forks – basically he had the entire package. Only one major problem: He was surrounded with lots of ladies who were extremely wary. Within seconds they turned their focus to us, even though we were almost a mile away! These babies have incredible vision, and we were obviously not welcome in their territory.

So I’ve got a big guy surrounded by smart females … I think I like him already. If I only had to make a stock on him, and only him, life would have been relatively easy. This was not the case and he had no intentions of leaving his girls. They wanted nothing to do with our company … can you blame them? We’re trying to kill their boyfriend!

Before we could get within range, the entire group busted out and headed over the hills. A bit disgusted, we decided to take a break for lunch and let them settle their nerves. With a full belly, we returned and glassed from a distance, quickly locating our buck. We decided on a game plan and Aaron and set out for a long stalk.  When we were finally in range, not only was I trying to focus on the muley but I was also coaching Aaron on the camera. I wanted to be sure he had all the camera settings correct and – most importantly – ensure he was on the buck.

Once he was set on the tripod and I was rock solid, I squeezed off a 257-yard shot. The next thing I knew I was walking up on my first mule deer, and a beautiful buck at that.

Hunting for work is fun, but having my brother involved really made for a great experience. I am afraid I spoiled him though; beautiful accommodations, great outfitter and area, and a muley down in only six hours! I can promise you this is not how it normally goes, but I’m not one to complain. Aaron and I packed up our gear and headed home for a weekend of pheasant hunting and relaxation and my parents’ house in Minnesota.

 Melissa Bachman

Dates: Nov. 6-12
Outfitter: Gametrails Lodge
Hunter: Luke Hartle
Destination: Kentucky Whitetails

With only one day back in Minnesota between trips I had to get re-equipped FAST. We had a crew of four going on the next trip to Kentucky so two people were flying and two were driving. I needed to wash all my hunting gear, get it scent free, and reorganize by the following morning. I arrived 7 hours late from New Mexico because of delays in Roswell. This caused my layovers to run short and I missed my flight from Dallas to Minneapolis. All of us know how expensive it is becoming to fly, and airline baggage fees keep rising. So I needed to get my gear packed, washed and ready to send with the crew that would be pulling out the next morning.

This meant waking up every two hours to change loads of laundry so everything would be clean and ready for the next trip. Fortunately, I have no problem sleeping on planes, and this trip to Kentucky was no different. Out like a light from take-off to landing. Once we landed, the air was crisp and it was off to the Gametrails Lodge. The property is a huge piece of contiguous land that is extensively managed with help from the QDMA. Last year they took nearly 500 does in hopes of getting that one-to-one buck to doe ratio.

Their efforts proved to be very effective and the bucks were very competitive – we hit the rut in perfect timing and deer were on the move. From the first morning on, we watched bucks chase, bucks fight, and small bucks confused by their new hormones running through their blood. The toughest part is deciding when to squeeze the trigger.  For TV purposes any mature buck 125 or better makes for a great show. But here we were passing bucks left and right that would meet this standard. Easier for the hunter than for the camera girl, I think…

The second to last evening we had a buck come through that really tested us. He was a 5×5, decent mass, and high tines. Lucky for this guy he came by just as the camera started loosing light. We decided to pass on him, but watching him walk by the blind at 30 yards was tough, really tough.

Luke and I made a deal that we would hunt hard the next day, but if this buck showed up again we were going to make him a movie star. As luck would have it, nothing bigger showed itself throughout the following morning. Now we were on our afternoon spot and the clock was ticking.

As the last hours drew near I wondered if we had made a bad decision the night before.  Just as I was pondering these thoughts, deer started entering the field. It started with a young high frame buck that we saw the night before, if he showed up twice maybe our guy would too!  A smaller deer ran out of the wood line with our guy right behind it.  We took our time, carefully looking this buck over and making sure it was the same one.  We made the decision to take him, and as soon as I gave the OK that I had sufficient pre-roll, Luke took the shot – and made a perfect shot at that.

Another last minute buck down, but another great show for next year!

Melissa Bachman

New Mexico Mule Deer
Oct. 31- Nov. 4
Outfitter: Santa Fe Guiding Company
Hunter: Mark Kayser

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays, or at least it used to be. The past three years Halloween has been forgotten as hunting has taken priority.  This fall was no exception, and I spent my Halloween in the alien capitol of the world, Roswell, New Mexico.

Once I landed and no flying saucers, U.F.O’s, or aliens were sighted I headed to the ranch, where Billy the Kid once lived. Part of hunting all across the country is I get to see and learn a lot about different cultures and areas. It is so much more than just hunting.  It’s the people, the area, and the history that makes the trips. Although by looking at our daily schedule, I was reminded more time was dedicated to hunting than eating and sleeping combined.
 

I didn’t arrive to the ranch until almost midnight so I had to sleep FAST. We only had three days to complete this hunt so we hit it hard right from the start. Morning came quickly, and it was time to walk and walk and walk. We made a big loop, seeing several nice bucks but nothing quite what we were looking for.

A hunt like this is a true test of your camera gear and your own determination. This hunt was the first trip for our new EX cameras, which run on a chip, so no tapes to lug around. However, within minutes I realized I had forgot one important thing; a shoulder strap for the camera.  Too late now, so we walked and we walked. By the end of the day my wrists and forearms were shot, but this is a mistake I would not repeat. I quickly rigged up zip ties and the strap from binos to remedy the problem.

The third and final day we walked more than ten miles. This isn’t flat walking either; it takes concentration and body awareness. The hillsides are covered in rocks, cholla, and snakes. One wrong step could lead to a painful and extremely long walk home.

It seems everything in the desert either wants to bite, poke, or sting you. I try to film as much of the hunt as it happens so I was walking alongside Kayser with my eye in the viewfinder and WHAM…I ran straight into a big prickly Cholla. It’s nearly impossible to have your eye in the viewfinder and the other eye watching the ground.

In fact my legs are living proof – they are covered in cuts, scratches & puncture wounds! It’s almost hard to believe anything can live in these conditions but we saw tons of game. I saw my first Aoudad (or Barbary sheep for you New Mexico folks), numerous coyotes, bobcats, and an abundance of quail. And the desert sure holds some trophy mule deer.

The last hour of the last day we finally made it back to the truck. We had left the truck earlier just to look over a ridge…nine hours later we were out of water and happy to see the truck. After slugging down two waters and a quick Coke we were off to the races again. We spotted two different shooter bucks, so after assessing the situation we came up with a game plan and went after the buck that was on his feet feeding.

Our plan entailed climbing a steep rock ledge, running through a deep ravine, and then finally creeping our way over a hill to land us within shooting distance. Out of breath, I got my tripod legs spread out and clicked the camera in place. I was still on the backside of the hill, out of sight and hopefully out of mind for these deer. Kayser crawled over the hill and got settled in on the buck.  I belly crawled into position then raised my sticks hoping not to grab the attention of the feeding deer.

My initial instinct was, “Man, there are more deer here than I thought, what if I am on the wrong buck?” Things look small in a camera and I my worst fear is being on the wrong buck. After a play-by-play description of the buck’s movements from Mark I was confident we were on the same deer.

Kayser squeezed off a shot and the buck tumbled. We had done it again! Last minute, yes, but we had completed another great show for North American Hunter. Mission Complete.

Melissa Bachman

Date: September  23-25, 2008
Destination: New Mexico
Outfitter: Kiowa Guide Service
Goal: Trophy Pronghorn 
I think Gordy Krahn deserves a shirt that says, “I shoot crazy-horned bucks.”

Whether it’s Texas or New Mexico, Gordy and I have a knack for finding non-typical, crazy-horned pronghorn bucks. Last year we were hunting the panhandle of Texas and came across this pronghorn that curved in low with one prong and high with the other. We spotted him from a distance and quickly decided that was the buck we wanted to take. After a long stock, we arrived at our stopping point and started glassing.

I was rolling tape throughout the entire stalk getting great footage of everyone’s yelps as they crawled over cacti and other prickly pears. As Gordy and the guide were glassing the land in front, this little rascal spotted them from the side and started darting away. I had been filming them glassing and watched the entire situation unfold through the viewfinder.

Normally during moments like this you only wish you were rolling, and you’re caught without a camera, but I got the action right as it unfolded. Gordy and the guide caught the buck’s movement, turned to prepare for a shot, but he was already on a dead sprint. The guide whistled, and out of curiosity, the pronghorn stopped.

Bad move, buddy! It only took a split second and Gordy dropped him, crazy buck No. 1 down.  Now, here we are one year later, back on the trail, same species, but a new location.  This time we’re in New Mexico hunting with Kiowa Guide Service.

As the sun peeked over the horizon the first morning, Gordy and I joked that we should probably find a “normal” buck this year. We explained our story from the year before to our guide and continued glassing. As the morning warmed up, there were bucks dotting the hillsides, but no sign of a shooter. The pronghorn were starting to rut and we observed one buck running from scrape to scrape. He was on a mission to cover as much ground as possible, check his scrapes, and rub his scent gland on every piece of sage in the field.

Mid-morning we saw another mature pronghorn that was obviously gearing up for the rut and running off every buck in sight. I setup my tripod to get some footage, zoomed in, and the next thing I know I’m pulling out the zoom because he’s getting closer and closer.

Everyone brags about a pronghorn’s eyesight, but last time I checked I don’t look much like a four-legged critter.  This buck was convinced he needed to show me who’s boss, so he ran all the way to me and stopped 40 yards away!

He strutted his stuff showing off his dominance then decided he had enough and retreated back into the hillside. Guess he showed me!

Just before lunch we decided to glass one last section, and to our stomach’s dismay, there was a shooter buck.  He stuck out like a sore thumb, and he was anything but normal.

This pronghorn had horns sticking straight out of his head shooting straight toward the tip of his nose. He obviously had a ton of mass and length, and I can promise you, he was one of a kind. Within minutes of seeing the buck we started our stalk.  Over an hour later we were finally getting close, but hunting was tough.  The cover was sparse and Mr. Crazy Horn was with a few other animals.

This meant quadruple the eyes, all just waiting to pick up the slightest movement. After a five-minute stare down, which seemed to take an eternity, we were in place for the shot.  He was initially hidden in the shadows but finally stepped out and Gordy made a great shot.

Upon retrieval of our animal we were stunned to find that he was even crazier than the last buck we shot last year.

If we intend on shooting an even crazier buck next year we may need to broaden our horizons and look for land near nuclear power plants.

Melissa Bachman

Date: August 29, 2008
Destination: Manitoba
Outfitter: Nueltin Lake Lodge
Goal: Caribou & Lake Trout for NAH-TV and NAF-TV

You’d think going from one trip to another would be easy in the sense of packing, but it’s not. With only two days between trips I needed to unpack, pack, and quickly re-supply my camera equipment. Going from a hot Wyoming Pronghorn hunt to the cold conditions of the Far North requires very different attire.

I also needed to pack smart because most fly-in lodges have weight restrictions for their guests. With my bags stuffed to the limit, a heaping pile of clothes stacked a mile-high on the floor in the “cut pile” I was barely under-weight but ready for departure.

This trip had two main objectives: Complete a show for North American Fisherman-TV and a show for North American Hunter-TV. North American Fisherman’s Steve Pennaz joined me on this trip as we headed to Nueltin Lake Lodge in northern Manitoba in search of the caribou migration and giant lake trout. Usually it’s hard enough to complete one full show on the road. To accomplish both in limited time, we’d need everything to line up just right.

Upon arriving at the lodge, it was apparent things weren’t going to line up just right. The caribou still had some distance to travel before the migration would hit camp. With this in mind, we shifted gears to fishing- hoping to give the caribou an extra day or two to migrate south. If we were lucky, we’d catch a ton of fish for a couple days, then have the caribou come into camp.

We weren’t lucky. After a hard-hitting effort, the fish were anything but cooperative, and still no sign of the migration. We completed the show for North American Fisherman-TV, but we never found the monster lakers.

Once again, as luck would have it, we were about a week early. The Lake Trout normally filter into the shallows to spawn, but this year they were still hanging deep. The days fishing were spent reeling in lakers and pike, and also scouting- we were constantly glassing the shores in search of caribou.

Once our focus was entirely on hunting, it’s as if the caribou simply vanished. In days past, we were at least seeing a few small resident caribou. Now that the bow was out, nothing.

On the afternoon of the last day, we finally spotted a shooter bull. He was swimming about a mile out, but was headed in our direction. We quickly found an island along his path in hopes of intercepting him if he stopped to rest. It would be a long shot, but at this point we were happy to take our chances. The island was very small, maybe 100 yards long and 50 yards wide. If the caribou came ashore we should surely have a shot, but at this point, no one was holding their breath.

Lesson No. 1: Caribou swim fast … very fast. I thought we had plenty of time to setup and prepare for his arrival, however I was stunned when I heard him shaking off on shore. We had only been on the island for a minute and he had already reached shore. The good news was he was on shore; the bad news was we had no idea where would this big guy appear. I tried to focus through the thick brush that separated us from the water. Without any prior warning, he stepped out into the open looking directly at us.

Busted.

To our advantage, these animals have very little contact with humans so he wasn’t overly spooked. The wind was also in our favor, and after a split second stare-down, he was off. Steve drew and took a shot as the caribou was fading into the distance. The footage was short, but very intense. The caribou appeared right over Steve’s shoulder and within seconds our hunt had completely turned around.

Lesson No. 2: Your hunt is never over until it’s over- anything can happen at anytime. This swimming caribou and Steve’s great shot saved an episode of North American Hunter-TV.

The migrations finally funneled down a few weeks later, but we never did get to experience the clicking of heels at night as the caribou migrate right through camp. In years past, hunters had the option of hunting out the front door because there was a selection of caribou literally at their feet.

Even though we didn’t see the migration, we experienced another stunning work of nature, the aurora borealis, or the northern lights. To anyone who has not had the opportunity to see this phenomenon, I urge you to step outside if your travels ever take you to the far north. The sky looks as if it’s dancing with lights, literally moving before your eyes.

Melissa Bachman

Date: August 21-26, 2008         
Destination: Wyoming         
Outfitter: Table Mountain Outfitters         
Goal: Trophy Pronghorn      

I’m ready to start the fall all over again, after an eventful spring filled with bear hunts from Manitoba to Newfoundland, numerous turkey hunts around the country, and a summer crammed with editing.  Fall is known as our “busy” time, but I’m still trying to figure out when our “slow” time is.

For me, the dropping temps signify hunting season is just around the corner, but even before these temperatures could fall I joined NAH’s Mark Kayser in his home state of Wyoming with Table Mountain Outfitters for a little hot weather hunting.

The fall is usually kick-started with an archery pronghorn hunt, and this year was no different.  Pronghorn are a blast to hunt, and it’s always fun getting back into the groove of hunting big game.

The first thing I noticed was how out of shape my butt has become since bear hunting…not out of shape in the sense you’re thinking! 14-hour sits in a scorching blind with very little room to move will get you cramped up in a hurry, especially when there are two people, a camera, tripod, bow, backpacks, lunches etc.  That tiny living space can get a little tight and stuffy!

When the temperatures scorch over 90 and you feel as if you’re going to burst into flames, this is when pronghorn hunting is at its peak.  Most pre-rut archery hunts plant a hunter within close proximity to a waterhole, so when the temps rise, the pronghorn have only one thing on their mind- water.

From a filming standpoint, pronghorn hunts are a lot of fun because you have action all day.  Whether it’s does, fawns, or bucks, there seems to always be something at the tank or on its way in.  This can also get very difficult at times when several bucks are heading in from various sides of the blind.  As a producer, you need to quickly decide which buck looks the biggest, while always keeping an eye open for others barreling in.

This particular hunt was a producer’s dream.  We filmed for a solid day and a half, scrutinizing bucks, doing our best to score them on the hoof, but ultimately passing on dozens of mature bucks.  It was obvious we were in an incredible area, so the decision was made; we were now trophy hunting. 

When the big guy finally came in there was no question regarding his size. His prongs towered above the others, his belly sagged, and he just looked old and huge. We almost got busted, but luckily things calmed, and we completed the first show of the fall.  It’s a great feeling to start the season off right without a hitch, but then again nothing ever is quite perfect.

One of the worst feelings on earth is hitting the record button to stop rolling tape and it doesn’t stop.  This is a sign that something has gone wrong inside the camera.  You cringe as you try to decide when the camera stopped working.  Did it get the kill shot?

What if the entire tape is destroyed?  Well, as luck would have it, that’s exactly what happened on this seemingly smooth shoot.

To my relief, only a small portion of footage was destroyed, and luckily it didn’t fall during a critical moment of the hunt.  As a producer, however, I still had one vital piece of the puzzle to complete- interviews.  These are the backbone of the show, something I couldn’t possibly go back to the office without!

So I let my fingers to the walking and called every electronic store in a 200-mile radius, but still no luck. Denny & Angie, the owners of Table Mountain Outfitters, explained that they had purchased a used camera from a previous TV crew, but it was in their home in Cheyenne.

We devised a plan to get the camera out of their house, and after a long drive it was in my hands and ready to conduct interviews.  When the final show is complete most people will think it was a quick and easy pronghorn hunt with great success.  That’s a sign we’re doing our jobs.  But, just remember, things aren’t always as easy as they appear.

Melissa Bachman