Wyoming September 2011, with the Midtown Hunting Crew.

Now that you guys know the members of the Midtown Hunting Crew (MHC) and what we’re all about, the next few posts will be about our great time in Wyoming hunting pronghorn antelope, antilocapra americana.  Pre-historically, there were 12 different species of antilocapra calling North America home.  Antilocapra americana are the only species left.  They range throughout much of the Western part of the U.S. and also exist in small numbers in Northern Mexico.  Their diet is made up of grass, sage brush and sedges.  The pronghorn is the fastest animal in North America and can run more than 50 miles an hour.  The only animal faster is the African Cheetah, the fastest on the planet.  Predation of pronghorn is most often done by coyotes, bob cats, mountain lions, and in late September 2011, me, Mike, Chet and Sunny.

Typical pronghorn habitat in and around Casper Wyoming. September, 2011 

For various reasons, Ray, Oggie, Clark and Marshall could not or did not want to go on the Wyoming trip and I think it is safe to say they regret they could not go.  We cleaned house and it was a boat-load of fun.  I’m glad we chose antelope as the first MHC animal, for multiple reasons including but not limited to high success rates, great opportunity for new hunters, good eating, and downright fun.  Wyoming is a great place to hang-out and hunt.  Everyone we met was way cool and was really glad to welcome out of state hunters.  That kind of surprised me -- even the game wardens were cool with us, as you will come to learn in the next few posts.  So here goes in 4 parts….

Part 1: Thursday 9-22 and Friday 9-23: The MHC Hits the Highway

I’ve been sick for the last few days with a really bad cold and have not been sleeping at all.  I’m pretty worried about getting the rest of the MHC members sick on the trip, which starts today.  I go to the Doc and get a ‘script for antibiotics.  I’m hacking pretty well and now I’m leaving and Monica has come down with my cold.  I’m thinking whoever rides with me in the Batmobile[1] is getting sick for sure…

I make it to the doctor, get the oil changed, the power steering fluid changed and the rear differential serviceb on the Batmobile.  She is in tip-top shape…until I realize my spare tire is flat.  So, I go over to the Alfa shop and Sunny fills the spare with air and fixes the seized spare lock with trusty “Lucile”, some kind of crazy air hammer.  So, the Batmobile is ready.  The old truck ran like a charm, with the exception of the limp-dick after market cruise control that would not hold the truck at speed.  I guess after 13 years, all you can get is out of aftermarket cruise control additions.  Regardless, I still like the old Batmobile and she continues to be a work horse for the MHC….

The Batmobile and the Prius outside the Rifleman Bar in Rawlins Wyoming. That dude with the Bacon strips tee-shirt is our president Sunny September, 2011.

Michael and Chet show up at my house about 6:30 pm and we get the Prius (yes, we hunt out of a Prius sometimes and still have HUGE hunting balls) and the Batmobile packed.  Clark shows up and gives us about half the MHC fund to spend on the trip.  We collectively decided to spend it wisely.  It is agreed Michael will be in charge of the MHC funds and he did a great job.  We basically used all the MHC funds for gas, food and lodging.  We estimated the costs for all this nearly perfectly, except for the gas and lodging part.  We spent a little more than expected on gas and lodging.  Next trip we’ll have to do a few things differently and save even more.  All in all, it was pretty sweet -- we spent less than 500 bucks a man for the trip including gas, food, and lodging, but not including our tags.

The Prius average fule consumption of 47 mpg.  A great road tripin machine.

So, we finally hit the road about 6pm on Thursday 9-22.  We’re burnin’ dinosaur bones and the Batmobile is chewin’ up miles of asphalt.  We make it to Elko, NV where we stop for a few hours rest.  Sunny and I figure we shouldn’t bother with getting a hotel room and the 4 of us crash in the vehicles.  We end up in a Walmart parking lot for the night; big box stores are good for something.  I’m still really sick and don’t sleep at all.  At first light, I’m outside the truck and everyone is sleeping…I’m hacking up a huge hunk of lung butter….

Sunny wakes up (probably due to the disgusting noises I’m making) and we decide coffee and breakfast is in order.  I make an attempt to wake up Chet and Michael by throwing change at the Prius.  The turd-burglers[2] won’t get up.  Sunny and I decide to leave them and stake-out a breakfast spot.  We find a restaurant that advertizes homemade biscuits and gravy…we are thinking hell yes.  After a horrible breakfast, Sunny and I still have not heard a peep from Michael and Chet.  They were seriously tired.  Finally, Michael and Chet show up and head for the restaurant’s bathroom together.  So, this is where things start getting strange.  Michael and Chet are in there forever.  The server watches them come in and knows we are waiting for our Daryl-lect[3] friends, to wake up.  She watches them go directly into the bathroom.  20 minutes go by, and Michael and Chet are still in the bathroom together.  30 minutes go buy and the servers are talking among themselves about the 2 guys with California plates that went into the bathroom together and have still not come out.  The server comes by our table and asks Sunny if Chet and Michael are okay in there together…

Finally, they come out and get something to eat.  Sunny and I think they were probably giving each other sponge baths and also comment if they get us kicked out of here they will most definitely win a joint Darryl-lect award.[4]  We finally hit the road sometime after 9 am on Friday the 23^rd of September, leaving Elko, Nevada bound for Wyoming.

Friday 9-23

After leaving the restaurant, we are again burning dinosaur bones and crapping out asphalt.  We finally get the hell out of Nevada, which seems like it takes forever.  While we were in Nevada, Sunny and I spot the first antelope of the trip from the truck at approximately 80 mph.  Now we’re in the land of Mormons: Utah.  We stop for gas at a little spot and they have jalapeño cheese curds.  I have to buy them.  We motor and keep on truckin’.  We find another good stop at a BBQ joint for lunch somewhere in Wyoming just after crossing the Wyoming/Utah line.  It was pretty good grub for no-wheres-ville.  We finally reach the Rawlins turn-off; this is where Sunny and I head to Caspar, while Michael and Chet keep trucking to Dave B.’s house to borrow another 4x4.  It is nice we have another 4x4 for the hunt, it is even better this bad-boy also has Wyoming plates… we just got more street-cred[5] with the locals.  Dave B is a friend of Mike W’s who is a fellow hunter and lives in Cheyenne.  This was awesome of Chet and Michael to make the extra 2 hour drive to Cheyenne.  As it turned out we only used the 4x4 a few times, but had it rained it would have been very necessary and I was glad we had 2 vehicles with 4x4 and one with Wyoming plates that held all of us.  It was a great hook-up that saved us a lot of $$ having a truck to borrow for our hunt…if we had not had it we would have spent a lot more $$$$ in gas to get out there.

Sunny and I arrive at the Super 8 hotel and we check-in.  Dave B. hooked us up with his corporate rate of 55$ a night.  The normal rate is 74$ a night for everyone else, but we got a discount because Dave houses his workers there when they have jobs in Casper.  We get settled in and it is after dark, about 9 pm.  Chet and Mike are just now picking up the borrowed truck in Cheyenne and are hitting the road to meet up with use at the hotel.  About 11:30 I finally get a phone call from Michael and Chet.  They have made it to Casper, but are at the wrong Super 8 hotel.  Who knew they have two Super 8 hotels in a town of only 55,000 people?  Casper is actually the second largest city in Wyoming.  After the boys finally figure out how to get to us it is after midnight.  Chet and Michael decided it would be prudent to get something to eat across the street at the Walmart.  They bring home frozen “gut bomb” burritos and hot pockets -- a great thing to eat the day before you go scouting for ‘lopes while confined to a truck with your friends.  Michael and Chet use the remaining jalapeño cheese curds and melt them on top of the frozen burritos—smart!-- in the hotel microwave.  They swore it was good the next day, between cleaning out their drawers. 

Stay Tuned for more on the Great Wyoming trip of 2011 with the MHC.

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[1] Bat-mobile- Noun.  The truck, also known as a Ford Stranger with flare-side bed, cap over the bed, and a large basket rack on the roof.  Most often parked in Joe Navari’s driveway or at the Rubicon Brewing Company; Joe’s other office.

[2] Turd-burgler (s)- Noun.  Disparaging way to refer to one’s friends.  Examples include: The turd-burgler forgot to bring his deer tags. Or Turd-burgler, bring me a beer! 

[3] Darryl-Lect- Proper Noun or regular Noun or sometimes adjective.  The term was developed on a past MHC trip to describe an individual who is not pulling his weight, or is derelict in his duties, or is in general a dumb-ass. Darryls can also come from different geographical areas and are known to the MHC as Hill-Darryls, City-Darryls or the rare, but not yet extinct Sea-Darryls. 

[4] Darryl-Lect Award. Proper noun.  The Darryl-Leyct award is named after some dumb guy named Darryl Oggie hired to help him paint houses years ago.  Apparently, Darryl was a derelict and never showed up on time, was a drunk, and smelled kind of funny.  The MHC found an old miners helmet that became the Darryl-Lect award.  If the group decides you win it, you get your name written on it and the place you win it written on the helmet.  Past Darryl-Lect award winners have been in car wrecks on their way to hunting trips (Ray-Ray), have forgotten all the food for the weekend (me), and have passed out drunk next to their own poop (The Chet)…

[5] Street-cred- Noun.  Credibility on a local level.  The Darryl-lect has street-cred because his truck has Wyoming plates and the locals think he is from the state.  Another example would be if you are really a die-hard Bears fan but wore a Packers hat into a bar in Green Bay; this would give you street-cred.