Try Shed Hunting for Early Spring Fun
Mike O'Reilly 07.15.11
Searching for deer and elk antlers has become so popular in some western states that a special shed hunting season has been established during the spring. Regulating this activity is a very good idea for several reasons, but the main goal is to protect the vulnerable herds of deer and elk grouped together on their winter range. If, for example, you spot an antler on the ground, or an area you want to search for them, you might jump a group of deer from their beds as you approach. As they run away they’re burning precious calories that would otherwise go toward keeping them warm and support fetal development among pregnant does and cows. Maybe it’s no big deal if it happens once or twice, but you can imagine the stress it could cause wintering deer if they are continually fleeing from shed-hunters, in addition to their natural predators like wolves, coyotes and mountain lions. So rather than the shed hunting laws being an example of Big Government intruding on our lives, they’re an example of reasonable government stepping in to protect wildlife — something we all can support.
I’m going to break ranks with a lot of outdoor writers and admit to you that once hunting season is over, I don’t spend a lot of time in the woods, unless I’m searching for an errant tee shot. Which means I actually AM in the woods a lot, just not hunting turkeys or bears. Because I’m either fishing or golfing in the spring and early summer, I rarely come across shed antlers. And I never find them while deer or elk hunting because I’ve been pursuing those at pretty high altitudes — areas bucks abandon long before they drop their antlers.
As my family prepared for our big move back to Michigan, where we live now, I was determined to take a precious symbol of Utah’s wildlife with me; I needed to find a shed deer or elk antler. I’d seen tons of pictures online of high school kids stacking their pickups full of massive antlers after only a single day of hunting. I knew I had never searched the right areas, but even in the places where deer yard up together by the hundreds, could finding sheds really be that easy?
As I pondered that very question my buddy, Chad called me up and invited me on the ultimate shed adventure. It was a lottery held on only two days each year, and each morning a ragged mob of sunburnt shed freaks gather in the Antelope Island parking lot and a hundred names are drawn from a hat. The first day is restricted to shed hunting on the east side of the rugged, but treeless island, situated in the Great Salt Lake about thirty miles northwest of Salt Lake City. On the second day, shed hunters scour the west side. There are herds of buffalo on the island, as well as antelope, coyotes, a few bighorn sheep, and several hundred deer. There are some monster bucks, too. Last spring they auctioned off a single, any-weapon buck tag for the island. When the lucky bidder regained consciousness he was asked to cough up $250K. Hope he gets his deer.
A few days later at six a.m. I found myself in the aforementioned parking lot packed with horse trailers, standing among the crowd of cowboys and bleary-eyed bowhunters waiting to see if my name was called. There were only just over a hundred people there so most of us including my friend and I drew a tag. After some brief instructions from the park ranger we were off, down the eight-mile causeway toward the island. We hiked up the east-facing slope until we got to the top, which was a saddle leading us to the western slopes where we were allowed to pick up antlers. We fanned out, stopping occasionally to scan the sage-covered draws and ridges with our binoculars. It wasn’t long before we came upon large groups of deer, and they didn’t seem too skinny after the long winter, because although it gets cold on the island, snow tends to melt pretty quick in the valley, and there’s plenty to eat.
Chad found an antler after we had hiked an hour or so — a pretty small four-point that was slightly dry and sun-bleached indicating it was probably shed the previous year. After that I headed higher up alone, toward the cliff bands where I figured a buck might nestle in among the rocks. Although it was the higher part of the island, it wasn’t what you’d consider “high-country” and there’s no doubt these deer would use every inch of the place, year-round.
It wasn’t long before I found a couple of bucks, and they were tucked in the craziest places you can imagine; caves, essentially. The deer I saw were old and big-bodied and dislodged small boulders as they dashed up and across exposed chutes to evade me. I noticed red circles above each of their eyes, at the base of their ears, and although I hadn’t found a shed yet, my optimism was re-ignited.
After about three more hours of walking I found myself on the lower benches of the island, still carefully scanning the grass and sage. I cut across a narrow drainage and as I crested the opposing ridge I came upon a group of about twenty deer, which bounced away from me, stopping about sixty yards away. Like the bucks I’d seen early up in the cliffs, I noticed that a couple of the deer in this herd had bloody circles on their heads. I started searching more carefully, knowing I must be close to a freshly dropped treasure. I finally found the antler in small clearing, and it was easy to see, starkly juxtaposed against a patch of bright green grass, as if the buck knew a neophyte shed hunter was coming and might need a little help. It’s a nice antler — a medium-sized four-point with a a short eye guard and a sticker point. The coolest thing of all was that I noticed fresh, red blood on the base of the antler, which meant it had probably been shed not days ago, but hours ago, probably by one of the bucks in the group still standing only a hundred yards away. Really cool.
Perhaps it was just because I’d been walking for six hours, or maybe I was jealous of all the other guys I’d seen on the island who had found sheds that day, but finding that shed got me way more excited than I ever expected. I suddenly understood why so many guys in Utah had recently become fully infected by SHED FEVER. I began to show symptoms myself. Now that I’m in Michigan, I’m not sure how much shed hunting I’ll do. You rarely find groups of 100 or more whitetails wintering together, and you can’t exactly sit down and glass five miles of wide-open terrain to search for sheds. I’m glad I finally tried shed hunting — and found success — because now I could return to Michigan with a great memento from the Rocky Mountains.
I've been hunting and fishing my whole life, mainly in Michigan, Colorado and Utah. I've used a wide variety of products and I love to share my thoughts and opinions about equipment with other hunters and fishermen!
