03-29-2019, 01:24 PM
I love bugling, too. Although I can't claim to have gotten any close enough to touch I have called many in and killed a few of those.
One of the most interesting was a bull that stayed just out of sight in an elk jungle in some huge old-growth timber. He sounded huge and had the most unusual call. Underneath the bugle he had a most plaintive moan. Never heard anything like it before or since.
Absolutely agree about the cow calling and Hoochie Mamas. I followed a herd around through the aspens for half a day, occasionally cow calling until I got within range. Unfortunately, I shot the wrong bull, but that's another story.
My bugling goes back to the days of the plastic pipe and plug. Then I used a length of coiled gas hose. Some of the most fun I've had is talking back and forth with a bull using a diaphragm call.
One day my brother and I stopped for lunch where we could watch a small opening in the woods. We knew better than to call in the middle of the day. I found a big old dead leaning fir that made a great place to hide out. I thought I might coyote out there one night so I began to break limbs off and scrape out a place to lie. After a while my brother's gun boomed. I ran around the corner of the thicket in time to see a big bull racing away. I got so excited that I jammed my rifle while my brother continued to blaze away; I didn't really want to shoot him up the caboose anyway (the bull, [
]not my brother). He must have thought that there was a big old fight going on or that another bull was angrily beating the tar out of a tree. A couple of days later my brother took a nice six point down in the hole where he had come from. That place was like a cattle pen so we couldn't be sure it was the same bull but it's nice to think maybe it was.
I had to give up bow hunting because of a bad shoulder. But one September I took my wife out for a hike near where I had killed a bull before. We could hear bulls calling all around us. I had my diaphram with me so that I could try to locate some bulls so she could hear them, but they didn't need any encouragement. She said that it would be really cool if a big bull came running out into the little clearing and bugled just like in the videos I had been watching. I told her that that wasn't likely to happen but set about trying to make it happen. I called and got a nearby response. Then I broke off a limb from a gnarly old fallen tree and began to beat and rub the dead limbs. Suddenly a bull ran into the opening about thirty yards away and bugled at us. I think that after that she thought I could just go out and call a bull in any time I wanted to.
Only 180 days till opening day this year, but who's counting? I better hurry up and get ready to go!
[signature]
One of the most interesting was a bull that stayed just out of sight in an elk jungle in some huge old-growth timber. He sounded huge and had the most unusual call. Underneath the bugle he had a most plaintive moan. Never heard anything like it before or since.
Absolutely agree about the cow calling and Hoochie Mamas. I followed a herd around through the aspens for half a day, occasionally cow calling until I got within range. Unfortunately, I shot the wrong bull, but that's another story.
My bugling goes back to the days of the plastic pipe and plug. Then I used a length of coiled gas hose. Some of the most fun I've had is talking back and forth with a bull using a diaphragm call.
One day my brother and I stopped for lunch where we could watch a small opening in the woods. We knew better than to call in the middle of the day. I found a big old dead leaning fir that made a great place to hide out. I thought I might coyote out there one night so I began to break limbs off and scrape out a place to lie. After a while my brother's gun boomed. I ran around the corner of the thicket in time to see a big bull racing away. I got so excited that I jammed my rifle while my brother continued to blaze away; I didn't really want to shoot him up the caboose anyway (the bull, [
]not my brother). He must have thought that there was a big old fight going on or that another bull was angrily beating the tar out of a tree. A couple of days later my brother took a nice six point down in the hole where he had come from. That place was like a cattle pen so we couldn't be sure it was the same bull but it's nice to think maybe it was.I had to give up bow hunting because of a bad shoulder. But one September I took my wife out for a hike near where I had killed a bull before. We could hear bulls calling all around us. I had my diaphram with me so that I could try to locate some bulls so she could hear them, but they didn't need any encouragement. She said that it would be really cool if a big bull came running out into the little clearing and bugled just like in the videos I had been watching. I told her that that wasn't likely to happen but set about trying to make it happen. I called and got a nearby response. Then I broke off a limb from a gnarly old fallen tree and began to beat and rub the dead limbs. Suddenly a bull ran into the opening about thirty yards away and bugled at us. I think that after that she thought I could just go out and call a bull in any time I wanted to.
Only 180 days till opening day this year, but who's counting? I better hurry up and get ready to go!
[signature]
The older I get the more I would rather be considered a good man than a good fisherman.