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Cal Briggs and I traveled 7 hours to
join the annual A.T.B.A. group hunt that was hastily set up by
the unofficial A.T.B.A. guide, Duane Hicks. We arrived at the
campsite and were pleased to meet Duane, Rob Speedie, Niall Fink
and Bryan Down; who had arrived five days earlier, pre-scouted
the area, secured permission and had a number of critters tied
to the proverbial stake or so we thought. The guys hunted a
couple more days before returning to the rigors of the real
world and we felt blessed to be able to stay and have all this
country side to ourselves. Yes, there was plenty of game spotted
and our excited anticipation was definitely there but, as each
unrewarded hunt for elk concluded, we deduced that we were a bit
early for the elk rut and were convinced that they were
maintaining their ghostly behavior. I was becoming very
frustrated. Unfortunately, once again, we learned over those six
days that the wits of bear, moose, elk and mule deer were
superior to ours. In addition to chasing the evasive elk, we put
a couple of calm morning stalks on Bull Moose feeding in clover
filled oil leases and Cal failed to close the distance to less
than forty yards on a couple of mule deer bedded in the middle
of brightly flowered canola fields. At the conclusion of one of
those stalks, I jokingly ribbed him that he did a great job but
suggested that he should dawn a set of Mickey Mouse ears and
give that a try. Two days later we were moping around camp
during the afternoon break and I looked across our classy PVC
dining table and saw this bright light miraculously appear above
Cal's head. I thought to myself…"Uh oh, he's thinking
again". I asked him "What are you up to?" Cal
didn't say a word and jumped out of his colonial style folding
chair proudly bearing his beloved Canadian flag and set to work.
Over the next 25 minutes Cal scurried around camp, rummaged
through our camp box and tore through my tool box. Then he
disappeared into the tent, emerging a few minutes later proudly
wearing his favorite hunting cap and …..a fine new set of
"Red Green" mule deer ears.
It seems he had "McGuyvered" his finery out of
cardboard, duct tape, a coat hangar and a pair of wool socks.
Well……I couldn't contain myself and laughed like I hadn't
laughed in a long time. It certainly lightened my  sour
mood. There was no way that I was going to leave this one alone
without having some fun and proceeded to bait him into a photo
session which was interrupted by more fits of laughter and
utterances of the various scenarios I was going to use for this
story. Cal stayed the course and asserted that his tact was
going to work and they would net him a mule deer or a very red
face.
We collected ourselves; put the
camera away and geared up for the evening hunt. I jumped on my
four- wheeler and headed in the direction of a water hole
bearing fresh elk sign in the heart of the aspen forest located
down in the valley. Cal took my truck to the upper fields to put
his tactic to the test on any unsuspecting mule deer buck he
found browsing on oats or canola. Well….. my night consisted
of getting very cold being sitting in my sling for three and a
half uneventful hours as a cold front blew through changing the
wind direction as often as the aspen I was perched in arched
back and forth. I had two brief interruptions when a couple of
bears came in for an evening sip. At last light I headed for
camp and arrived to find that my trailer was gone. Great, I
thought….Cal got something. I fixed a pot of coffee and waited
for his return. Minutes later, I heard my truck coming down the
road. I got up from my chair to see what Cal had in the trailer.
As he pulled up and before my Jeep came to a full stop, Cal
flung open the door and lurched out with the look of a ten year
old that had just seen his first horror movie. "I need your
help" he exclaimed and added, using various choice words,
that he was "rather frightened". I got him to calm
down and he finally got the story out. And what a story it is. I
think I have the details down but if not I will exercise some
editorial license and embellish where it is appropriate. The
story goes…….Cal drove up to the agriculture land and
immediately located a respectable mulie buck bedded in the
middle of a waste-high oat field that we had permission to hunt.
Cal carefully positioned his ears and entered the field down
wind of the buck. He was equipped with his Jack Kempf Falcon
recurve, a doe bleat can and an abundance of optimism. He slowly
and methodically crawled toward the buck but was picked him off
right away. Was this it? Was this the end of his career as a
unique and resourceful Mule deer hunter? Was he just another
loaf schlepping through a farmer's field only to watch the
Canadian kangaroo bound out of range, stop and then bound away
into oblivion? Cal wasn't about to give up and began doing what
deer do.
Cal bobbed his head up and down, periodically bedded down and
regularly rolled his wrist to produce the calculated vocals of a
female deer. Cal pressed onward and the next time Cal checked,
the buck was still there. In fact, it had bedded down. Cal was
elated, maybe this was going to work. He continued forward and
continued to incorporate the doe bleat. Cal got closer and
closer and finally reached the 25 yard mark. It was at that
point that the buck gave one last glance. Cal expected to hear
the boing, boing, boing of the buck's departure but, hold it a
minute, the Buck calmly looked away and very slowly began to
take a stroll. With each step the buck took, Cal stretched
himself and took a step. Cal bobbed his head and mimicked
feeding on the oats. This two step carried on for 10 or so feet
to a point where the buck reached a dip in the oats. Cal rose up
and found the opening to the buck's vitals. He slowly drew back,
picked the spot and let his Wensel Woodsman tipped cedar shaft
loose.
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To his dismay, the arrow came off his
well tuned bow sideways and the deer bounded across the field
and immediately bedded in the middle of the adjoining field. Cal
was dumb founded but as he nocked another arrow to continue his
pursuit he realized that a few oat kernels had built up on the
arrow shelf during his advance on the buck and it was this that
caused the erratic arrow flight. Cal put on his  Eyeore
costume and began his internal chant "Oh woe is me" as
he went after the deer for another stalk.
Yes, he still had his ears on and
managed to get close before the deer got up and trotted off. It
was at this time Cal saw that his arrow had hit a bit far back
and the deer was indicating a paunch shot and was in distress.
Cal watched as the deer walked off the field and into the bush.
Cal started in that direction to mark the spot that he left the
field and to investigate the nature of the blood trail.
Unfortunately, at the same time a very large and ferocious
looking black bear came out of the bush and entered the field.
(For those that don't know Cal…..he does not like bears, any
kind of bears, at any location and you might say that …….he
is "rather frightened" of them.). Cal reached for his
bear spray and realized that he didn't have it. He quickly
marched to the Jeep, belted it on and began his return only to
find that the bear had left the field. Cal picked up the buck's
trail and very cautiously began a sneak into the forest with an
abundance of perspiration flowing from his brow. As the minutes
passed, he calmed down. There were no signs of the bear and he
calmed down further as his concentration was focused on finding
his deer. He lost the trail after walking 35 yards into the
bush. He was working hard at re-acquiring the trail when he
heard the tell-tale sound of an angry bear popping its jaws. At
the exact moment the popping stopped, the bear was charging. Cal
reached for his spray but it was like he had his socks on his
hands instead of proudly displayed on his new ears. Try as he
might, he couldn't get that can out of its holster. It was at
this time during his story telling that I could not longer
control my self. I had already reassured him, many times, that
he was ok and safe, but at that moment my empathetic support
vanished as quickly as Cal's elk did last year when he stepped
on a twig as he was coming to full draw. I lost it. I roared
uncontrollably and as I wiped the tears away, I asked him why he
didn't shoot the bear as it stopped 15 yard from him huffing and
snorting. I laughed even louder when he said he was saving his
last arrows for his deer if it needed to dispatched. He
continued his story saying he enjoyed a millisecond of relief as
the bear turned away, only to be terrorized again as the bear
faked him out and charged again, this time to 12 yards. I asked
him what he did during all this and he simply told me "I
yelled really loud and waved my arms". OK…..I am not
cruel, Cal and I have been hunting together for 11 years and I
am his biggest supporter, but can you picture Cal, wearing his
ears, swatting at the air and assertively trying to converse
with a bear and encourage him to go the other way. You can't
blame me for laughing, can you? The comedy of the event had now
taken center stage and I couldn't stop laughing. Now for some
good news that brings everything into perspective. When the bear
disappeared, Cal bent over and rested his hands on his knees to
take a breather and wait for the next wave of bears to advance.
He took several much needed breathes of air to calm himself
down, looked to his left and there, 10 feet from the trail he
was on, was his deer. Cal created even more laughter when he
demonstrated how he got his shirt off to lay it on the deer and
leave his scent in the area. He looked and sighed the same as a
woman who proudly removes her bra without removing her blouse.
He was determined to protect his deer from that darn ravaging
bear. Cal calmly walked out of the bush constantly looking over
his shoulder. When he reached the field edge he bolted to the
safety of my Jeep, was forced to take a brief but required
nature break and then drove back to camp. The rest of the
evening was uneventful. Cal and I returned to the spot, located,
collected and photographed his trophy. I can tell you that Cal
figured out the closure on his Bear spray holster and
confidently brandished the can as we went to work. I suspect the
bear took an English class in the meantime and moved along none
the worse for wear. Needless to say, Cal was deeply relieved.
WOW that was quite a story; right….
rolling laughter, edge of your seat, empathy…..all those
things, but let's go back a bit. I want you to, once again,
re-visit and envision Cal with those wool socked ears bobbing
through the oat field. That had to be hilarious to watch ….right;
I wish I could have seen it. Well as much as I had fun ribbing
Cal at the time and laughing during the writing of this story,
we all have to give him kudos for not giving up, for trying the
unusual and for not trying to convince me to keep this all
quiet. I encourage each one of you to contact him, congratulate
him on his efforts and pry the finer details of the hunt. A word
of caution though….don't try and get the pattern or details of
construction for "Cal Briggs Mule Buck Stopper Ears"…..the
patent is pending. Oh, one more thing, I was trying to come up
with a name for this buck. I think I should call Cal's buck…..
the Mickey Mouse Buck. Congrats Cal, great job.
Written by: Gary
McCartney |
