My grandson, Owen, got his first ever antelope on Sat the 25th, my 71st birthday. We hunted a remote spot in the far NE corner of Nevada, just north of Massacre Lake. It's miles of foot deep alkali dust and volcanic boulders to get up on the big butte and to the far north end, where few go. In a three hour hunt we saw about 50-60 pronghorn. Owen and his dad, Kevin, did the hunt, while I positioned the Ranger out of the general area.
Owen connected on a decent antelope about four miles from where we could get the Ranger, so we dressed it out, caped it out and discarded the back skin and rib cage, quarted it, and packed it out. It took the three of us four hours to get back to the Ranger. As a bonus for Owen I dragged my knee along the ground while crawling under a drift fence and exposed a perfect obsidian arrowhead. Owen saw it; I'd have missed it.
It was a perfect mild day at a 5,200 foot elevation, a perfect hunt, and a perfect birthday. You see...I shot my first antelope the same spot at 12 years old on my birthday in 1959. MAN! Time gets away from old hunters. ;)
https://i.imgur.com/HfkVM44.jpg
Proud Dad:
https://i.imgur.com/sJ3gMo5.jpg
