Well after a week of scouting and two weekends of hunting, I finally harvested my first pronghorn antelope.

I was drawn this year after five years of being rejected in the North Dakota license lottery, and it looked pretty bleak.  Last weekend was 80 degrees with 30-40mph winds.  All of the pronghorns were stationed on the sides of hills in the middle of sections, and hunting pressure was heavy.

This weekend blew in a fall storm, complete with 30 degree temps, rain and then snow.  The antelope went into hiding and we didn’t even see a herd in the “normal”areas until about mid-day, when we saw a really small buck running with about 15 does.

Out of desperation we went to a new area, where we thought we would at least fill our limit on pheasants since we only had two to go.  I missed that chance with a horrible couple of shots on semi-tough shots and we proceeded to drive around a while looking for the last herd of the day.

Out of jest I turned to my hunting partners, Tucker (a five year-old Britanny) and my father and asked where did all of the goats go?  Less than a minute later, I answered my own question with “Right there!” pointing out the windshield to 20 pronghorns running across the section line.

I turned the truck around and drove to a different corner of the section, but the antelope ran back behind again.  You know, turning a ’94 Suburban on a country road is no easy thing.

I saw where the pronghorns were running, and I exited the vehicle, .270 ready to fire and ran up the field to cut them off before they got too far behind a rise.  Too late, I ran back down to the road and got a good look at them about 150 yards out.  They were running full bore and I picked out the buck, always last.  I led him about 4′ and squeezed off a shot.  I didn’t hear anything, the pronghorn didn’t jump or stumble, and he definately didn’t just fall down.

After about 50 yards he reached the road, heading off into posted land.  He seemed to stumble a bit, but I wrote it off as just mis-stepping at the road.   But about 100 yards into the posted field, the pronghorn reared up on its hind legs and fell over backwards.

Huh.   Guess I DID hit him.  At full speed running right to left.  Ta-da!

I put the gun in the vehicle and walked out into the field to retrieve the animal.  Perfect shot through the lungs.  Didn’t hit any guts, didn’t ruin any of the head or shoulders… just a lung-er that blew all the way through and he just took a while to know it.

Well, I’m hooked.  That was the most fun I’ve had hunting in years.  Only one thing went wrong the whole weekend.  When it came time to snap a photo, my camera malfunctioned and we had to rely on a screenshot from a video camera.

Oh well, a nice 12″ pronghorn (updated measurements – 13 1/2″ horns and 6 3/4″ base.  Much bigger once I got a tape on him!) for my first time out.  Not a huge trophy by any means, but I’m mounting him anyway.  Who knows how easy it will be to draw another license.  Here’s to pronghorn hunting!  Now, I can concentrate on ring-necks and my muley tag.  God I love the fall!