TRUCKSTOP - By Rich Tatarka

      The way it is with famous authors and their famous editors, there’s short lists of subjects they must stick to for their publications in order to not lose their funding. Occasionally they get desperate and put out great works of literature like “End of World Pushed Up to February 12,2025 Because of Evil Zip Lock Sandwich Bag”. And whom amongst us hasn’t read “Climate Change, Its Effects on Tree Frog Perspiration” or the eye-opening “Just Where Did Little Johnny’s Birthday Balloon Go?”  Whilst our list of viable topics has dwindled a bit as well, there is somewhere in the rules and by-laws that any article written by and for those with ties to this “Profession We Call Logging” must fit a chosen topic near and dear to our hearts. In the off chance that no such topic exists, Archery Antelope Hunting it is...

It was one of those “Perfect Sunrise” type mornings that always made the 2 ½ hour drive in the dark well worth it. Darkness is prevalent for the first part of the drive, but about the time you get to Big Timber the eastern horizon starts changing colors. It gradually works all the darkness out and if your timing is just right, you pop out onto the flats south of Harlo a bit, right as the sun starts to cross the horizon. There are no words to describe an Eastern Montana Sunrise, you have got to see one for yourself…

Anyway, Safety New Guy Todhunter was already parked putting his gear on as I pulled up behind him. (I should note here that I had to go way, way, way back into the back storage area of my brain to re-remember some of these old times. Funny, my intact memories of the early antelope/archery days are crystal clear, yet I have no idea what I had for dinner last Tuesday nite…) We commenced to get ready for our first of what were to be several Antelope/Archery adventures. It was then that I was introduced to what was to become known as the “List.” No, not the list one makes days in advance of such a trip, rather this list is one usually added to as a day like this unfolds. Like stuff you forgot to bring, but otta not have, goes on this list. And vital stuff you learned that day, like figuring out how much drinking water you need. (Get a good firm idea of how many bottles, then multiply that number by 49.37…) This list is also where you would stash all your “Notes to Selph” for future reference. For example, one wouldn’t put good boots on this list because one should already have one’s good boots included in the day’s wardrobe. “Those yer Good Boots?” Safety Cobbler Todhunter asked as we headed out. “Yup!” I replied. “Sorrells. Insulated, good to Forty Below.” “But it isn’t gonna get that cold here for at least 3 months. Those are gonna be a bit warm for the last 62 miles…” Safety Weather Guy Todhunter informed me.  Changing the subject rather abruptly, he explained best he could the intricacies of Acquiring an Antelope with an Arrow. “Easy,” Safety Antelope Coach Todhunter explained. “It’s called the sneek n stalk. You sneek around quiet-like until you spot one, then you stalk within arrow range, flummox said Antelope with aforementioned arrow, easy peasy…” So off into the vast yet not exactly flat expanse we commenced to sneek. We had not sneeked for long when we saw a few Antelope that were, indeed, sneekable. I should stop here and elaborate a bit more on the Sneek and Stalk form of acquiring an antelope with an arrow. Things out on the East Side are a bit wonky regarding the whole time/space continuum thing and its effects on the Archery Antelope Hunter’s brain. There’s a ton of data that one needs to load into your “Operating System” in order to be successful. For instance, there’s a small rise out west of Harlo that if you stand on you can easily see Bass Pro Shops in Billings, the small town of Plentywood, Montana, the taller buildings of Calgary and the big door on the right side of my shop back in Bozeman. You can easily spot an antelope worthy of sneeking on from here, but the hard part is you need to be less than 50 yards from an antelope before attempting to flummox it…  Switching to “Stalk” mode, Safety Antelope Coach Todhunter showed me his patented method where only the “Tippy’s” of your “Toeseys,” and the “Endsie’s” of your “Fingie’s” are the only parts of your body making contact with the ground. (If

done correctly, there should be a slight “Ga-digga-diggah” sound emitting from your location, indication of a well-done stalk.) T’was about here that I noted a few things in need of some attention, like the general lack of clearance I had whilst attempting to stalk. Cactus were a good 3 inches taller than any clearance I could muster while attempting to stalk. Safety Antelope Coach Todhunter said it would be alright for me to switch to the lesser used method “The Belly Crawl”, then had me jot down a few notes on this technique. “Watch out for these,” he said.” “Cactus, Snaikes, Spiney Lizard Beasts, and Green Cow Pies.” He added special emphasis on the Green Cow Pies. “Actually, it’s best you avoid the whole crop of new Cow Pies, especially this time of year. Sure, they crust over good, but that gooey middle is gonna end up all over your favorite Tee-Shirt if yer aren’t careful.”

As we neared the end of our journey that day, Safety Zen Brother Guru Todhunter said “Grasshopper…” “Yes, Oh Great Bubbly One.” I asked, “Some words of wisdom perhaps?” “Grasshopper”,“are thick here. We should catch some for fishing. You have empty sandwich bag, perhaps?” “Don’t you remember? You made me catch that darned ol’ Black Widow Spider and use the last sandwich bag with a working zipper for containment.”   

     Anyway, I think it’s time now for a conclusion… Re-Cap, so to speak. I didn’t write anything about running out of water 38 miles from the truck, or how 12 miles into the journey I was trying to make a pair of moccasins out of a pair of golphers but could not find any in my size. Yet through it all, I managed to keep my Tee-Shirt free of any green cowpie stains, all while adding droves of info to my new “List!”

Note to Selph….. to be continued Until next time,

That Is All.

Rich T.