by Bill Dunham
After spotting several herds on Delta's Barley Project we saw a group of a dozen or so on a trail to the northeast which had at least two mature bulls. I chose one which was standing on the side of the trail, but he was surrounded by cows. The cow nearest me moved to face me, but the one behind was still a problem, still in line with the bull. About that time the bull took a step toward the bush, and, while I could no longer see his head or neck, his shoulder was exposed and well clear of both cows, so I shot him (just a bit too far forward) and he walked about 20 yards away from the bush, and tipped over in a clearing where he was easy to get to.
For starters, I wouldn't be writing this without the super-guidance - before the shot - of my friend, Vern Aiton, and the back-torquing efforts of my wife, Lucy, my friend, Dave Lovett, and my grandson, Loden Dunham - who is one of the strongest men I know. They finished the job of taking the animal apart while I bragged about my 700 yd. shot (it was actually a bit less than 200).
I'm still pumped. To take a good bull (great trophy), 700 lbs of good meat, in the company of people I love, and at my "age" is a rush which will never leave.
(That 846 yd. shot wasn't too shabby either... Come to the club and I'll tell you about it. At least twice.)