October 14, 2008 was the 61st anniversary of General Yeager becoming the first person to fly faster than the speed of sound – to break the sound barrier!
Boy if I had written this the day my elk hunt in 2008 happened, I would have been seething but within a week I was able to put it in perspective and remember my sense of humor.
General Yeager and I had driven to New Mexico (this is the good part). We went through Kingman, AZ on Route 66. I love the historical architecture – the “Wild West” albeit a bit dressed up – look.
So we sang the song, listened to Roy Clark, the Oak Ridge Boys, occasionally the news. General Yeager pointed out such sights as Humphreys Peak. That was his landmark for getting to Edwards from Wright Field in Ohio. Remember back then, there were very few roads or landmarks other than nature’s landmarks. A lot of it looked the same.
Apparently, we have Hitler to thank for our pretty good road system. Although, we didn’t feel that as we drove 23 hours to near Cimarron, NM. If the road had been straight, it might have taken 2/3rds the time!
When Eisenhower occupied Germany after we won, he noted the autobahns – how quickly the Germans were able to mobilize and move troops AND how many runways the autobahn provided if needed.
So when he became President he mandated good roads so we could mobilize quickly too.
All those good ideas put to use for evil by Hitler. And to good by Eisenhower.
Where was I? 
We stopped in Springer for gas. When I went to pre-pay, I asked the cashier – forgot the number of the pump. He peered out – that Rav4 – yes – and put it in the computer.
While waiting, a customer was saying to the cashier that he was from West Virginia.
I asked if he knew General Yeager. He said, “Oh yeah. I got him on my speed dial. I’ll call him.”
Me: Okay.
I waited. So he went through the motions and then of course stopped just short of dialing and said, “I’m kidding.”
I said, “Really!? Because I’ll probably be talking to him in 5 minutes – or even 30 seconds. ”
The customer thought I was gaming him like he had been gaming me.
The cashier was swifter. He looked out at the car again, saw the Bell X-1A license plate and I winked at him.
I then asked of the customer: Would you recognize Chuck Yeager if you saw him?
Customer: Sure.
Gen Yeager, I kid you not, walked in RIGHT THEN.
Me: Hi Charlie. This guy’s from West Virginia.
They all said hello and from which county each was.
Gen Y: Where’s the men’s room?
The cashier pointed and Gen Yeager headed that way.
Me: Did you recognize him?
The customer looked at me blankly. The cashier was on top of it.
Me: That was Chuck Yeager.
Cust: Oh! That..! He’s my hero! I was just speaking to my hero and I didn’t know it!
When Gen Yeager came out, I had gotten the customer’s name and introduced them. The customer shook Gen Yeager’s hand and praised him. Gen Yeager smiled and thanked him.
We went to the car. I went back in to ask where the post office was. As I opened the door, the cashier was already abuzz telling the next customer: You know, the movie The Right Stuff?
Fun.
We arrived at the ranch which seemed to go on and on – 750,000 acres of it – in time for dinner.
Three of our four of our acquaintances were there. I had forgotten how competitive they are – nasty competitive they are.
I bought two of our host’s books – monies go to Children’s Miracle Network – because they and I didn’t have change. I gave one to one of the acquaintances. I realized that guy was one of the wealthier and cheapest people I know. He wanted another book for free! He also was very pro the bail-our because he had lots of (in my opinion unearned) stock options from when he was a big time CEO of a public corporation. Selfish.
The next morning we went out with T at 5:30am. He parked us before daylight where the “elk always were”. Well they weren’t this day.
Then he proceeded to find them miles away and chase them. Doesn’t work.
We did happen upon one, and the rest in the brush, as they ran across the creek (or river in the West), Gen Yeager shot a yearling cow elk up the hill and running. Our purpose is to cull cows – otherwise if too many they get wasting disease – and to eat what we shoot.
We then tried to get to the elk as it was across the creek/river. T had no idea. He had worked there over 2 years – and excused himself with: it was all different on a horse.
On the way, he decided we should hunt my elk.
We come upon some suddenly and raced them to the fence. He was trying to cut them off. We bumped along. I held the light above me – we were in a single cab – me in the middle -, which doesn’t really exist as the shift is there as well as the 4-wheel drive shift.
We stopped abruptly. Gen Yeager climbed out – it is a HUGE climb out in a Ford (ugh) – no step. I unfolded out. Got my gun loaded and pointed but the truck was not pointed in any way to provide a rest.
Those darn elk did not stop for the fence – they just jumped right over and kept running at breakneck speed. I heard Gen Yeager yell – Hold ahead of the one you want.”
I thought he said two inches. He had said two body lengths.
T told me they were 350 yard so hold on the top of its back – whichever one I picked out.
Lots of yelling at me. I shot free hand. KAboom!
Nothing. You’d think I would have hit something running by us.
I either shot short or over their backs. Twice. I think over their backs. As there wasn’t any extra dust besides their hooves.
By the time I chambered the next round, they were too far away. As we drove back around to get Gen Yeager’s dead elk, Gen Yeager pointed out we should try to head up on this side of the fence.
T thought he knew better. Big mistake. Well he had been there for a few years so we figured he must. Big mistake.
T tried to get to Gen Y’s dead elk by going on the public road – but the gate we wanted to enter had a lock and T didn’t have the key so T went to the next gate. We drove off-road – NOT COMFORTABLE with there in a cramped cab – to another gate, tried to fit through – did, but then couldn’t find a way across the ditches.
So we retraced our steps and on the way around we ran down some more elk – they were over the fence and gone before we could even get out. Except two. She ran down the fence. Some stopped and looked back, waiting for her – but all too far away for me.
T: Just wait. She’ll be trapped and then you can shoot her.
I then realized she wasn’t jumping over because she thought it was too high for the other elk – which was her baby.
Just as I was figuring I was going to tell T forget it – she jumped and her baby jumped or ran through – and they were off with the group. Phew. I really didn’t want to shoot the Momma.
On the way back to Gen Yeager’s elk, we got a flat. It was a Ford. So T changed the tire.
We finally headed up the way Gen Yeager had suggested and guess what? We got there directly and no problem.
T only had a “come-along” and so called the head hunter – funny – I mean the head of the guides.
The head guide arrived but not before we had dragged the elk up off the side of the hill.
T looked like a society gal in her wedding dress asked to gut the elk. He was prissy – didn’t really want to but finally got down to it.
T head guide asked me if I had found any Indian heads. So while T gutted and they got the elk on the truck, I happily looked for Indian artifacts and took pictures of the river below. Beautiful. (Turns out I had but T said they were just flints. I noticed they disappeared from the truck before I could take them, though).
Gen Yeager went with the head guide and I went with T. We didn’t see any more elk so we took the dead elk to the butcher. Back straps, tenderloin, and elk burger with no additives.
Lean, good meat – much better for you than beef, chicken, turkey.
We headed back for lunch.
At four pm we headed out again in search of another cow elk.
My fanny was getting pretty tired, leaning on one cheek in the truck.
We saw some more elk, but none close. We then went into a riverbed to “put the sneak” on a herd that had already seen us.
We tiptoed along. T carried my gun when we had to leap across the creek, which we had to do about 10 times.
Within in 5 minutes I smelled the elk. I visualized getting my gun ready and shooting.
We flushed a bull that had bedded down in the creek. It ran a little and stopped. I asked if it was one that could be culled – I had a perfect shot.
T: No.
Dang.
So we “snuck up” some more. Gen Yeager was in the truck watching.
We then crawled up on the opposite side of where the elk were – or we thought they were. T first – then he exclaimed – We’re caught.
There on the other side was a young bull looking at us. We dropped back down. The sentry had seen us.
We snuck around – he was still there grazing – wasn’t too concerned. Word was out – we were only looking for cows so he was safe.
By the time we got into position and raised up to shoot a cow from the herd, they were not only gone, they were looooooooong gone.
In fact, Gen Yeager said, as soon as we had dropped down into the creek, they had run around the hill away from us and to the east.
When we saw them, I raised my gun to perhaps shoot. T yelled: Don’t shoot!
I could see them. And I was trained on one cow.
Then they ran further away and stopped.
T: Now shoot.
I looked though the scope. It was getting dark. I thought it’s be a Hail Mary and I don’t’ know how far to hold it over their bodies.
Me: How far is it?
No answer.
I didn’t shoot.
As we were walking back, T: About 4500 yards!
How far was it when I wanted to shoot?
T: 1000 yards.
We walked the mile back to the truck. Gen Yeager was laughing. He had seen the whole drama. He thought I looked pretty good, carrying the gun like a real huntress, sneaking along carefully, ready to shoot the bull. (Not always ready to shoot the bull
We drove back to the lodge. On the way, one cow stopped short. Barely enough daylight. We clambered out again. I used the hood for a rest. T said it was 350 yards so Gen Yeager said, “Aim just across the top of her back.”
KABOOM! (Three.)
I missed. I think I tried again. (Four) The cow waited and then ran off.
Turns out it was 200 yards so I should have been aiming right under and behind its shoulder – about at what would be its underarm.
Too dark now. We went in.
Gen Yeager was going to give a presentation to the guests after dinner. But dinner was delayed 1 ½ hours because the Princess had shot a big elk and everyone had to wait while it was gutted and they drove in so she could proudly show it to everyone. She was thrilled – the bull scored 355. She is very competitive and was determined to get the biggest that year and bigger than last year. The meat isn’t as good on old big bulls but the bragging is better. I don’t understand that – hitting a big object is easier than a smaller one.
Our host was unhappy about all this but there was nothing we could do.
The next day we went out at 6am. Unbelievably we didn’t go to where T had seen the elk for two weeks in the morning. We went to an area where someone had thought they saw the elk the evening before. Well, actually we went to the ranch’s property side. No elk.
Then we went on the public road. All the elk were where the fellow had seen them – on the other area – for which we did not have a license.
We saw one cross so I asked him to stop as the elk had stopped. He drove a mile up and back, parked and we climbed through the fence. We “did the sneak” and – guess what? – found no elk. The two elk we had seen were now 4 miles away up the next hill!
So we walked back to the truck where Gen Yeager was. And watched the elk on the other side thumbing their noses at us.
We then drove towards the other side of the ranch. There were some elk. We climbed out of the truck – and did I say I do mean climb! I tried to find a rest – again the truck was poorly positioned. T said put it on the barbed wire fence. That meant I was in a half crouch. So I shot free hand. (Five). I THOUGHT I had heard a sound, not quite a THWACK but T yelled HURRY! SHOOT AGAIN! I thought he wanted me to hurry before she bolted.
I shot. (Six) I thought I heard a sound, not quite a THWACK again as T cried: You hit her!
Then he yelled: GET IN THE TRUCK. PUT THE GUN DOWN!
I looked at him. A car was coming.
T: You can’t shoot from the road.
I was in shock. I put the gun down in the truck and Gen Yeager and I tried to climb in but before we got too far, it turned out the car was T’s wife.
So we climbed through the fence to track the elk I had “hit” and to maybe shoot her again if I hadn’t really killed her.
T tried to have me lie down and shoot up. He pointed out where the elk were.
Me: That’s a rock.
T: That’s her head and her rump.
I couldn’t contort my body lying down and shooting up so I stood up and shot free hand. (Seven).
In a VERY nasty tone, T: What the hell were you shooting at?
I was furious. T chooses not to wear earplugs. T told me to shoot. I re-loaded and told him: Where you said. Where they aren’t.
We walked up to see what was what. He then turned around.
T: We’ll go get some coffee and come back. By then she’ll lie down and die and we’ll find her.
I thought we should keep going, as they weren’t moving fast. But I’m not an expert. Unfortunately, it turned out – he was less of one.
We went back to have coffee. I was still seething which if I can’t go someplace and let it out, comes out with tears, which I tried to repress.
Guns are dangerous and I was with an idiot.
After an hour – the Chef, Manager, and owner could tell I was upset but I hid it best I could – we went back to track the elk.
We found a VERY small drip of blood – less then a 20th of an ounce, if that much. We found two more. Then T headed down the hill. When we found no more blood, he refused to retrace our steps to do a circular sweep.
Again, we did come upon a bull sleeping – he jumped up and ran a few steps. But T didn’t want me to cull him either.
Turns out, we figured out much later, T doesn’t like hunting. He likes to “put the sneak” on the animal have a great shot and not take it. That inflates his pride!
Doesn’t help re customers and culling though.
We headed back for lunch. On the way we drove by the creek. Finally. Where the elk were. I saw (in fact, I was the one who saw the elk first every time) an elk feeding. It’s back was to us by the time T stopped. That elk never turned so I could hit its neck or underarm. It just kept walking into the brush with its head down.
We were within 100 yards but I didn’t shoot.
We then drove up the hill and across – seeing these elk running because of T’s crazy driving. We were going to try to cut them off. T started screaming: ARE YOU READY?
I said, Yes.
That didn’t stop him. He continued to scream: ARE YOU READY? ARE YOU REALLY READY? ARE YOU READY?….
He stopped. I got out. I had the rest – the window of the truck but still not so good. They were running. I shot. Over the back again. (EIGHT). Boy was I frazzled by the yelling.
The elk ran, stopped again. No rest and I was frazzled.
I refused to shoot. T kept urging.
I refused.
Then I blew. Meaning I got very quiet but assertive. DO…NOT…YELL…AT…ME …AGAIN!!!!! And I went for a little walk.
I came back calm, got in the truck. We looked futilely for more elk and then headed in for lunch.
Gen Yeager, looking through binoculars, was CERTAIN I had just nicked the hair on the back of the elk. He saw a poof of dust. What I heard were the bullets hitting the ground behind the elk.
T was certain I had hit the because it was limping as it was running away and it’s ears were back meaning it was hurting. T was sure I had hit it in the shoulder.
My money, as usual, was on Gen Yeager. I had seen the elk run and hadn’t noticed any limping.
T had convinced everyone he was right – so they sent the dogs to find the elk. Gen Yeager was sure they wouldn’t find it. I was going to go but had had enough of T.
At lunch, the Princess’ daughter in law came in and regaled us with shooting her first elk. They had raced up and she jumped up. The “Grandma” at the back stopped. B lay down and shot. One shot, first shot, they said. B is ex-law enforcement. Impressive. Then more of the scenario came out. She actually belly shot it and they told her to shoot it in the head to kill it and stop its suffering. And she was in tears – she didn’t want to shoot it in the head. Now THAT surprised me a LOT. Given it would stop the suffering and given B was ex-law enforcement.
At lunch, there was some discussion about shooting an elk from behind. A, an ex-CEO, said A Texas something (- I forget -) shot is not a joke. It’s a great shot. (It’s a shot right up their derriere).
Princess: IF you are very accurate.
A: Agreed.
I was glad I didn’t shoot. And after going to Colorado and learning more – VERY glad I didn’t shoot.
We said goodbye to the owner, the “Princess”, her husband – I told the Princess what was wrong. She hugged me. I was really telling her so that if it came up with the owner, she could straighten him out. IF it suited her.
We went out again with T. The Asst Manager had promised a better truck now that all the other hunters were finished – so we wouldn’t be squeezed onto a front seat bench.
T said he didn’t know anything about it but disappeared. We got a double cab. MUCH better. And a Chevy! With a spare tire. Remember – General Yeager’s father only ever gave him two pieces of advice. One was – always buy Chevy pick-up.
First per Gen Yeager, we went to the target field.
I shot once. (Nine) T said I missed it.
I reloaded and shot (Ten) before I was ready scaring Gen Yeager and me. But fortunately I had the gun aimed in a safe direction – at the target.
I reloaded, shot again. (Eleven). T said I hit it to the right of the bull’s eye.
T went to get the target but didn’t bring it back so we could inspect it. He is a klutz.
He pointed on another target where I had shot. I shot the target perfectly. Turns out I hit the target twice – – the first shot had hit. (I doubt the second one did!)
So I guess there’s more proof that he can’t see – and has no idea about where to shoot and if I had shot that other elk in the morning. My money was even more right to be on Gen Yeager!
So we went out and “put the sneak” on some elk again – that would take up the whole afternoon. Our last.
T brought another gun – just in case I wounded an elk, he could shot it dead. He was till sure I had wounded the other elk that morning. He was wrong.
He set me down for a 350 yard shot downhill. And told me to aim at the top of the back just at the shoulder. I said okay and asked if he was aiming to back me up. He said No!
I was frustrated and a bit reluctant: Well then why did you bring your gun?
I had the elk in my sites but it didn’t sound right. Fortunately the elk moved into the brush before I could clear the brush in front of me and shoot. Turns out it was a Momma with two babies.
We continued “putting on the sneak” until T got a call on his cel phone.
WHICH HE ANSWERED
T (into the phone): We’re putting on the sneak now on some elk.
I thought: Well, not NOW!
We snuck in the creek about a mile or so. Then he headed us to the opposite side of the creek/river where there were 4 elk not easy to get a shot.
The other side had about 200 elk – much easier as there was cover for us and they were in the open. He led me to believe they had taken off.
So I was on the riverbed essentially – on a dry spot. The elk were 15 feet higher beyond the side of the opposite bank about 100 yards in the brush and one behind the tree. I couldn’t see them. OK, I could see about an inch of where to shoot. But my shot would have to do the impossible – take a turn – to really be good!
I shot. (Twelve) Missed. I shot again. (Thirteen) Missed.
I got up to shoot again and T whispered NO! and pulled me down!
I didn’t know why so I sat down farther up our side – a little higher – about 3 inches. I rested on both legs – most steady. He said No, forward leg.
At this point, I was done.
I shot once more. Missed. (Fourteen)
Me: I give up.
He insisted I reload. T got some ammo out of his pocket – he had taken Gen Yeager’s ammo for his own gun (without permission or our knowledge)! I had two more ammo. I shot again. (Fifteen) Missed.
I got up and looked for the other elk. We walked back across the riverbed, up the side, to the pile of wood. Only T was ahead of me and took the only spot from which to have a rest, a good position to shoot the elk and still have cover. He wouldn’t move.
He told me to go use the pile of barbed wire for a rest. The pile would have damaged the gun and the stock of which Gen Yeager was proud – it was from OSB and had been worked on a long time by Remington – and it would have not been steady.
Then T said – They’re getting ready to run. He still wouldn’t move so I stood up to free hand but the elk of course ran before I could sort out a free hand shot.
I walked off to the truck without a word to T.
He then lied and said there was another elk – wanted me to cross back thru the fence. I didn’t – I went to the truck, which Gen Yeager had driven up. T finally admitted the “elk” he saw was a spike not a cow – I doubt he saw any.
We drove back. We saw no elk.
I never saw a guide so happy. It was then I realized he hates hunting. He hates gutting. And was thrilled I didn’t get an elk – in fact had been working against it. Good thing I hadn’t hit that one from the road. He might have turned me in!
We got back. I was furious. This guy is dangerous and stupid and dishonest.
Gen Yeager did the program this night. But the cowboys et al didn’t show – well the asst manager had not gotten the word around that it was Sunday not Saturday, and AFTER dinner. It worked out better for us and those that did show – the two other guests remaining and the Chef. The Chef is a GREAT guy.
The food was wonderful and mostly healthy – or at least there was a healthy choice.
The next morning General Yeager spoke to the Asst Manager who said: Yeah, he’s an idiot. !!!!!!
So the Asst Manager, who really admires Gen Yeager, sent us out with an idiot.
He did apologize and asked us to come back and we’d get a good guide.
I’d rather go out on my own.
The Asst Manager took us up on the Mesa – SOOO beautiful – we saw some old cabins and some beautiful pastures and lakes. (I’m from the East so I call them ponds).
After lunch, we drove to the Trinchera Ranch in Colorado. The drive was stunning – yellow and yellow-red aspens glistening in the sun. God was evident.
We arrived at the Trinchera, sighted in the gun. BTW, I hit the target perfectly at 100 yards – 1 inch high right above the bulls-eye. For those of you who know as much as I did before I met Gen Yeager – a bullet rises and falls. Gen Yeager’s gun is sighted to be right on at 200 yards. So with the bullets he had loaded and was using, the bullet would be 1 inch high at 100 yards.
We looked for elk. I regaled Bubba with my 16 shots and why Gen Yeager didn’t have as much ammo.
Bubba (laughing): It only takes one for him.
Over the next couple of hours and day Bubba was stunned by what happened in New Mexico.
1. You don’t shoot at running elk and expect to hit it.
2. You can shoot free hand. You start at the belly and swing the gun up to the underarm and shoot. If you try to hold on the underarm, your gun will do a weaving motion. (Yes, I can attest to that). See I had thought I just wasn’t good enough or strong enough. I had realized I could learn to do free hand = there’s not always a rest. I also figured there was probably a trick or procedure for me that I needed to figure out for me. Now I learned it wasn’t just me.
3. You don’t shoot lying on the flat, level ground – or hardly slanted – at an elk up the hill a ways. You can’t contort – and it would be unsafe – you also might get hit by your gun (the butt or scope esp. hitting your eye). Bubba showed it too trying to figure out what T was thinking.
4. Shooting at the butt of an elk – you ruin the meat. (tell Archie)
5. Shooting at the back of the neck – good luck! Won’t be easy or as effective in killing it.
6. Shooting at the shoulder – that 350 yard shot down – ruins the meat. Why bother then if we’re hunting for meat?
7. Shooting from the bottom of a riverbed hoping the bullet can go over the top and hit an elk you can’t really see….well, don’t have to explain that one.
8. “Sneaking up on them” with a cel phone, going to the 4 elk and not the herd…stupid.
Also there was one more – I actually thought I had hit one of the elk in the foursome. I heard that THWACK. And I never saw more than 3 again.
I asked T about it and he said: The 4th one is somewhere – you didn’t hit it.
Bubba was stunned we at least didn’t go check.
Boy did I feel MUCH better talking to Bubba who has been a hunting guide for over 30 years and has hunted himself for over 40. Great nature – I’ve known him 8 years. Gen Yeager has known him over 30.
Bubba was going to take me elk huntin’ and make me feel really better but in Colorado you need a hunter safety card if you were born after Jan 1, 1949. I passed the practice test – but that wasn’t enough and the person who gives the “Crash” course was unavailable. So next year.
In New Mexico, you only need the hunter safety card under age 18.
Colorado wouldn’t take my test score or the integrity of the hunting outfit and of Gen Chuck Yeager. Fair enough but it was worth a try
Bubba and I were very disappointed – we were so looking forward to doing it right.
At dinner we saw our great friends – the Ostermans and his guests.
We met two of the Forbes who used to own the ranch – a couple. Very nice people – we watched some of the debates and Mr. Forbes was very insightful in his opinion. And very diplomatic when I asked him for whom he was voting – since he didn’t know my choice.
More later….
c. GCYI