Remember before flattops and crew cuts when bowl-cut hair trims were common? Then came mop-tops and "hippie long-hair" before the circle was made to 1999 finding bowl-cuts bringing top dollar in the beauty salons. How about when large clothing was worn because that’s what was handed down from the big brother. Today, folks pay ridiculous amounts for clothing bigger than baggy. Think back to going to circus sideshows to see a tattooed man or the woman with all the body pierces. Now the fad is to have tattoos and metal in your body parts. On a more touchy note, I can proudly recollect a pledge of allegiance to the flag and prayer in school, all decreased to a point now where God is not to be mentioned in the classroom unless in some controversial argument.
In hunting, I have likewise managed to suffer though changes that are hard to accept. Like the cutting of timber on my deer lease of near thirty years. I admit it was expected; however, I just tried not to think about the day that it would happen. Though it was unpleasant, the camp has made it though the logging process and several years of the regrowth period. Now we should start preparing for it to happen again, for if we are successful in maintaining our lease, it is inevitable that we will see the return of the big skidders and again a change in the landscape.
Six years ago, several friends and I leased an exceptional, well managed 9000-acre ranch in far south Texas just north of Eagle Pass. It had great potential for trophy bucks, and we furthered that with a conservative hunting program. I actually had visions of hunting there right into my senior citizen years. Passing on bucks letting them get bigger from year to year, our expectations grew high for our fifth season until the ax fell. We got the news that the ranch heir chose to sell. Our prize big buck haven was history to us and was sold to the Kickapoo Indians. What a jolt.
These events are but a few that whizzed though my thoughts recently as I was once again confronted with a surprising modification in my hunting world-- this time my favorite elk spot.
I have often written about the ranch where Gray Basin lies, a beautiful, scenic elk Shangri-La near the Colorado line north of Chama, New Mexico. It was a sanctuary I always looked forward to hunting with Lobo Outfitters. I had hunted there off and on since 1981, and the property had been a part of Lobo’s lease for 29 years. But in 1999 the power of the rich sent the ranch slipping out of Dick Ray’s reach. At our orientation meeting the night before this year’s elk hunt, the news of the loss was announced. For those of us who had the pleasures of hunting there, we were told to hold those memories dear, because it was all in past tense. What a blow to many of us, a change that almost brought tears.
On the first afternoon of this last elk hunt, I along with longtime friend and guide Mike Ray sat at a watering hole hidden in a high canyon just west of Chama. The evening was fading to dusk when Mike put his hands to his ears to silently signal to me that he had heard something worthy of our undivided attention. Thanks to those youthful ears, we were alerted to a slip of a rock or crack of a branch that just might be an elk quietly coming our way. As Mike sat to my right, he at this point had his binoculars focused to my far left. He leaned over and whispered in my ear that there was a 5 x 5 bull about to enter the arena we had proudly claimed on this exquisite opening afternoon of the first rifle season. If it had not been for the startling news of the loss of the beloved honey hole, I would not have had a second thought about passing this bull on first day, but instead I immediately nodded my head to say good enough. I eased the hammer back on the Freedom Arms ten-inch so as not to make a give-away noise if the bull stepped closer. For obvious instant safety, I laid my thumb between hammer and frame and remained still as the bull made his way to water’s edge. Mike continued to glass, and in a hushed voice gave me details of the 5 x 5’s average statue. With those details given and my trust in his evaluation, I felt no need to risk extra movement with my glassing for a secondary inspection. I must admit that it did seem terribly easy and convenient for the first afternoon, an occurrence rarely presented to me. In my own little pessimistic mind, I felt the animal would bolt for one reason or another. Not noticing that there was a small fir blocking a shot, Mike began to look a little puzzled, as my gun was not up in a position for a shot. He once again muffled an assurance that it was an average 5 x 5 if I was interested. Almost with a chuckle, I indicated to Mike that I didn’t have an open shot. Mike took another peek and softly suggested, "Well, he is drinking, why don’t you just stand up." I thought this was indeed just too much; surely our visitor will bolt from his position some 40 yards out. Glad that I placed the low light filter in the Bushnell HoloSight, I rose to my feet and placed the small, single red dot behind the bull’s shoulder as he lifted his head and stared into our log and brush hide-away. With a good feeling about the trigger break, the super charged 454 barked on my first ever offhand shot at such a beast. The bull whirled from the water and ran straight away from us stumbling to some 50 yards out collapsing from a heart shot.
I had not taken the bull on the ranch of Gray Basin, but you know I still had the same exciting thrill. The absence of that ranch property left me feeling a little denied, but I had the memories. Furthermore, to my hunting partner Jommy Holder of Beaumont who I had pumped up so about going to the Basin, I felt regret. But, that worked out also, for Jommy connected on a fine 6 x 6 on the third morning. All in all, the change in hunting properties had a happy ending.
I’m reminded of the words of a Willie Nelson ballad, "Phases and Stages, Circles and Cycles, Scenes That We’ve All Seen Before." That’s often true in changes. In definition, change is "to make or become different." We learn to accept those alterations, most especially those in appearance as hair and dress. I personally find myself accepting the many fads and trends, phases and stages if you will, much better than I did, say seven or eight years ago but often reluctantly. As long as we continue living "the good life" we’ll always encounter transformations in society. We can often expect to be labeled old-fashioned, but I’m learning to appreciate the brand. As for the variations in moral decay over the past decade, well, I suggest that this will not be for us to interpret, but will be for judgment of the Almighty someday. That revelation will be a grand change. BB
