Tag Archives: Nosler

Family, Hunting

Cage Ranch

About 100 miles southeast of Denver, Colorado there is a large tract of land that symbolizes the spectacular prairie of the western United States. The property bisects route 94, and rests in an unincorporated village called Wild Horse . For over 70 years, the Cage family has raised cattle on nearly 50,000 acres of sage, yucca and switchgrass. They are responsible land owners as well as astute custodians of this ground. Fortunately, the Cages are kind and generous people who allow some of us to experience their stunning piece of American history.

The first time I visited the Cage Ranch I was awestruck at the incredible size of the property, as well as the many species of animals that call the eastern plains of Colorado their home. While I eventually adapted to the vastness, I will always be captivated by the variety of prairie critters. In the early days, I could not tell where I was without a compass. Additionally, it took me a while to learn how to unlock and relock a barbed wire fence gate. I was appreciative when Bob installed a few cheater-bar-latches around the opening to the pastures that I frequented. Navigating the roads around the ranch took time to learn. My sense of direction is poor when the streets have no names. To that point, the more ranch driving I did, the more comfortable I became transitioning from one pasture to the next. It has taken years, but I can now successfully maneuver without oversight. My attempts at branding calves each spring had the hired cowboys mocking my unrefined methods. I persevered, and I eventually learned how to execute my menial yet fun role. When fall arrived, hunting season started. We harvested our fair share of pronghorn, deer and even an occasional duck.

On January 1, 2021, the Cage Ranch will change hands, and formally end a glorious era. There are so many things that I will miss about the ranch; the long drive from the highway to headquarters. The two golden eagles that always seem to appear when I enter The George pasture. The remarkable sunrises and sunsets that light up the golden grasses.

Bob, thank you for extending yourself beyond our friendship. You gave up your time to teach me about many things ranch related. You rarely mocked me for the many mistakes I made, and you were patient when I asked you the same questions multiple times. As you stated, I will continue to use the many things I learned on the ranch for the rest of my life.

Hunting

Failure

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“We pray our sights be straight and our aim be true.  We pray for no pain to the game we pursue. We thank you, Lord for this land. We thank you for the sights from our stands. We pray for safety one and all.  We pray we may return in the fall.”

-Camille Pissaro

Failure brings on all types of undesirable emotions. For me, failure usually creates a gut-wrenching, remorseful reaction to whatever I was attempting to accomplish. Many times, these feelings negatively impact my frame of mind for the foreseeable future.

On the second day of Colorado’s deer rifle season, my plan involved putting myself in an advantageous position before sunup.  I drove down the main road leaving headquarters at a quickened pace. It was 5 am, 33 degrees and shooting light was over an hour away. Towards the end of five mile road a truck was parked about 150 yards inside the entrance to the Ranch. I cautiously pulled my pickup next to his vehicle. He was an older man dressed in camo, highlighted with the proper amount of hunter’s orange. He told me that he was waiting to contact the owner of the property.  I asked him who he was specifically looking for. When he could not come up with a name, I politely asked him to leave. As he turned his truck around, I looked up the hill to the west, and saw the outline of the buck that poacher was eyeing. I trained my binoculars on him, and I was able to discern that he was a deer that I wanted to take.

I grabbed my rifle and bipod, and made my way across the cattle guard. The buck was feeding uphill, and he did not seem aware of my presence. I put my rifle into the bipod, and got comfortable. The buck was 151 yards from my shooting position, and he decided to lay down. The sun was coming up behind me, so I felt confident that I could remain concealed until I was permitted to shoot him. About thirty minutes later, the buck stood up and took two steps to his left. With my crosshairs on his shoulder, I squeezed the trigger. The buck kicked hard, and spun around as he fell to the ground. I stood up, as I thought the animal was fatally wounded.  Suddenly, he raised up, obviously injured, but able to walk. I attempted to shoot him off hand, but I missed.  He made his way over the hill heading southwest.  I ran towards the buck, realizing that I needed to kill him before he got beyond from my effective range. The noise I made startled the wounded deer, and he unexpectedly turned and jumped the adjacent fence and then ran across the highway. Recognizing that the animal was hurt, I made the difficult decision to pursue him, even though I would no longer be in my game management unit. I know the pasture where he entered, and I scoured the land both on foot and in my truck.  This section of the Ranch abuts the neighbor’s property just one mile to the north. That landowner leases his land to an outfitter who charges a lot of money for guided hunts. The deer needed to be recovered before he became inaccessible. As I drove to the north end of the land, the injured deer jumped from his bedded position, and he made his way over the fence.  My heart sank as I drove to the fence line, and watched him limp away at fifty yards.  I quickly received permission from the ranch manager to take the deer, but I hesitated because I figured that the outfitter would be present.  Recognizing I was shaken up, I took a few deep breaths, and I tried to collect myself. I drove to an area where I had both mobile reception, as well as data access.  My objective was to contact the outfitter, and determine if he was hunting with clients.  It took me well over one hour to figure out who was leasing the property, as well as to find his mobile number. Soon after getting the outfitter on the line, he accused me of trespassing, lying, and many other unseemly acts. He threatened to call the CPW, and told me to expect a hefty fine. Recognizing that I had done nothing wrong, I called the CPW, and asked them to meet me at the Ranch. The officers listened to my story, and completed an extensive investigation of the incident. Hours later, they absolved me of any wrongdoing, and offered to help me locate the deer.  Despite looking all over the pasture for two hours, we could not find him. Discouraged, embarrassed, and angry, I packed up and headed for home.

I have replayed my initial shot multiple times over the last couple of weeks. I cannot determine what occurred on such a routine shot. My subsequent range work did not reveal the issue, as my aim proved to be spot-on. The guilt I feel for wounding the deer will never leave me.  I accept responsibility for my failure, and I hope it will never happen again.