Sloppiest, Lousiest One Shot Kill I Ever Made Dennis has donated hunts and trapping experiences to our local SCI chapter and has also taken a number of our members on moose and bear hunts in the area, which is on the west side of Williston Lake. His guided hunting area is about 3000 square miles and he has trapping rights to about 300 square miles, which lies in the middle of his hunting area. He outfits and guides for black bear, grizzly bear, moose, caribou and wolves and goats. He traps for wolverine, lynx, fox, pine martin, and of course wolves. Dennis picked me up at the airport in Prince George and we drove north and east for about six to seven hours to his trapping cabin after picking up a dead horse. It had been the year-around home of a trapper and his family before Dennis bought the are a few years ago. Dennis was able to trap and shoot six wolves last year and the year before he got nineteen wolves. There are six wolf packs in his guiding area but the wolves are mostly taken out his trapping area. The further north we went from Prince George, the deeper the snow was. At his cabin there were about eight to ten inches. Dennis showed me my bunk which was about three feet off the floor and across from a sliding window with a small shooting bench below it and a chair. Dennis pointed out the bait pile, which was 185 measured yards from the window and across the partially frozen river. He told me to look out whenever I could to check the bait pile. I awoke at 2:30 a.m. and went outside and came back in and looked to where I thought the bait pile was. Nothing! Early in the morning I again woke up, went outside, came back in, and looked at the bait pile and seeing nothing, lay down on my bunk. Dennis got back up a few minutes later, went outside, came back in, and said, “Bruce, I think there is a wolf on the bait pile!” He grabbed his binoculars and said, “There’s a wolf on the bait!” I grabbed my binoculars, looked, and finally made out the wolf, lying in the snow. The sky was overcast and it was snowing. Visibility was about 300 – 400 yards at the best and if the wolf was a gray one, Dennis probably would not have been able to see him. About four to five inches of his body was above the snowline. “Wait till he stands up,” Dennis whispered to me, “he’ll be a bigger target!” I asked Dennis to hand me the pipe wrench so I could crank up my scope to eight power. “Wait till he stands up,” Dennis whispered again. We sat there next to the open window and I thought, “It’s illegal to shoot out of a vehicle, but not illegal to shoot out of a building.” I had the rifle scope on him as he lay and ate there for about 10 to 15 minutes. I was getting very impatient and was about ready to squeeze the trigger. To heck with waiting for the wolf to stand up, when Dennis whispered, “Think you can hit him lying there?” BANG! He didn’t move an inch. I thought I saw him slightly drop his head an inch or two and his whole body seemed to relax. “Sloppiest, lousiest one shot kill I ever made,” I thought, sitting on a chair in my long underwear in a warm log cabin, with a rifle poked out an open window, and before breakfast! Dennis, with his overactive mind, started to tell me all about this wolf. Dennis started in with, “That was ‘Ralphie.’ He was one of my six pet wolves, but I’m glad you got him. I was kind of put out with him. When he sits on my lap he always licks my face and he drools on my beard and then the whiskers freeze together. He’s also a vegetarian and loves to eat soyburgers – won’t even eat ketchup on them; claims it’s inhumane and cruel to chop up and squeeze tomatoes. He’s also very fussy with his salad dressing; only likes French Roquefort and blue cheese on his salads. At night when I’d read him the story of “Little Red Riding Hood” he gets put out and claims I discriminate and am insensitive to wolves. He was getting to be a real big pain in the rear. No, Bruce, I’m glad you got him!” |