These days I usually hunt alone, bicycling in behind locked gates. In the past that wasn't always the case, especially during Elk season. Those Elk hunts were usually when we saw the big bucks of course. One of the last years "Agony Ridge" (it was a ridge that dropped hundreds of feet if you went over the bank) , was open for vehicle hunting traffic was one I won't forget. On my own I'd never have attempted a mud run like that, especially in a little pickup, even if it was a 4X4. When the rear bumper of the rig in front of me went under water, well it was too late by then. My brother-in-law laughs when he recalls looking back and seeing my headlights go under. When we spotted a big branch antlered bull at first light on the ridge line it wasn't quite light enough for a shoot. Before we could get around to make another try we heard the shot. Somebody got a nice bull anyway. Even with all the excitement that day my mind never strayed very far from knowing I'd have to make that mud run again to get home. I always figured another ridge near here had a more appropriate name. "Dread and Terror Ridge".
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