Coyote Hunting – Coyotes in Disguise? Clothes, Theory and Frustration Captured On Video

Clothes Really Do Make The WoMan

Searching through the hunting clothes section, size small didn’t exist.  Finding a couple of pairs of medium sized men’s pants, I stepped into them and pulled them up at the waist.  Nothing a belt wouldn’t be able to remedy, and I reasoned with myself that I’d be able to layer pants underneath.  Always trying to see another side’s point of view – in this case, with men’s hunting clothes – I also reasoned about the lack of size small pants.  Conclusion: what man would want the word small written on any pair of pants he wore?

I selected a hunting pattern that looked classy and sophisticated, with a dash of green in the convincing branch pattern.  Made by Rocky Outdoor Gear.  The tag said: Prohunter Synergy Uninsulated Pant.  A Prohunter?  Tis not I.  I read further, D-Tec premium waterproof and human scent control system, with inside suspender buttons and moisture wicking lining.  I reached for a jacket – a lovely chocolate with an appealing camouflage pattern – the Prohunter Synergy Camo Fleece Vest/Jacket.  And although that tag said draw cord at waist, it really means to say draw cord at bottom of buttocks.

New Hunting Clothes

There is something empowering about wearing man pants, particularly when they are hunting pants.  Strutting across the yard, an undeniable energy of sureness was contained in them.  Of being ten feet tall and bullet proof.  A drawing out of an inner balls-iness or cock-iness.  Yes, ballsy and cocky.

Strutting like a buck; like a stallion who’d inflated himself to twice his size as he pranced past a competitor; like a bantam rooster with exaggerated neck action and the animated lifting of his feet – that’s how I felt walking out to the air strip.

“Probably not the best place to start,” I said.  Curtis agreed.

We watched as some deer stood and gazed at us curiously, noble and beautiful, in Sandra’s pasture on the edge of town.  I imagine we confused them – it was spring, not fall hunting season.

Deer in field between our place and town.

We set up, waited.

Setting up and assessing.

It proved to be uneventful so we moved to the south of our quarter.  Still, nothing.  We packed up and drove a mile to our hayfield situated across from Frank’s place.

The sound of coyotes yipping and communicating came from Frank’s home quarter.  We weren’t about to shoot in the direction of his cattle.

“Give Frank a call about going to hunt on his land,” I whispered.

“He won’t mind,” Curtis replied, “He’s not a fan of the coyotes, either.”

I laid on my stomach, my gun at my side.  Curtis turned on the electronic caller.  Nothing, except the sound of coyotes in Frank’s pasture.

Coyotes in Disguise?

I began thinking and theorizing out loud, “When I have my protective pouch on, we don’t see coyotes.  When I don’t put it on, we see them.  They were also on a killing rampage last week and now this week is quieter.  It always seems that way – they go crazy before a killing rampage then settle down after it for a few days before starting up again.  We need to think about our timing for hunting.”

Curtis agreed.

Norma had called me that morning to tell me that in addition to our area’s coyote aggression problems, recently, something else had to be out there.  Her dogs had begun to squeeze against the door outside when she took them out to do their business, sniffing the air and reluctant to leave the safety of the house.

Sandra also came over at noon, relaying to me that she discovered large paw prints – not those of a coyote or a large dog – imprinted in her pasture.  She said that her horses were also in chaos this past week, when the deer killings were happening.  Kenny had also reported seeing huge canine-like paw prints amongst the coyote’s prints.  Four people, now, in two days had told me the same thing.

I also relayed to them how this winter I had heard a distinct howling amongst the coyotes normal chorus – it sounded like wolves.  I thought about the unique vocal range I had heard when we successfully called in the large coyote by the airstrip. [link]

Two summers ago, Angie was persistent about seeing a wolf.  Some laughed at her.  I believed her, knowing that the year before that near our larger shopping center of Humboldt, in the Muenster area, there were reports of wolves – including both coyote and wolf tracks at kill sites.

Paw Print comparison - Largest on top left, wolf; beside on top right, coyote; below coyote track on right bottom, large dog.

(reference website:  Internet Center For Wildlife Damage Management.)

I had always had my suspicions:  The size of the coyotes had increased over the years.  The average coyote is said to be 20 – 40 pounds, yet, hunters including my brother had killed coyotes weighing from 60 – 70 pounds.  Wolves are reported to weigh 70 – 115 pounds.  The “coyotes” aggression levels had increased over the last few years.  Their wits.  Their sureness in taking down large game, including horses.  Their hunting techniques had adapted, along with their choice of cuisine.

Wolves are said to attack by “biting on hindquarters, flanks, shoulders, nose and tails.”  Coyotes are said to “bite on the throat and head… hindquarters and flanks”.  (Wolf Song of Alaska) Science needs to add chasing the prey and attacking their legs, playing them out and shredding and ripping at them until the prey were exhausted and no longer mobile.

Coyotes are known to be superior at adapting for survival – a hybrid, with hybrid vigor, would be more so if combining the brilliance and power of both predators.  Coy-wolves.

Talking with long time farmers, and hunters, another interesting observation from such people continued to resurface:  The coyotes that use to enter farm yards and pastures to kill, were sick and mangy.  However, this was no longer the case even with gross over-population, which caused many to scratch their heads.  These coyotes were vibrant and healthy, larger than the norm.

The definition for hybrid vigor is:

The increased vigor or general health, resistance to disease, and other superior qualities that are often manifested in hybrid organisms, especially plants and animals.

Noun 1. (genetics) tendency of a crossbred organism to have qualities superior to those of either parent.

I have my theories, which are merely theories at this point.  I also have the observations of others, along with my own.  My senses and gut instinct had, and continued, to tell me that we were not dealing with the average coyote… or were we?  One who adapted?  Was that the illusion, the trick from the infamous Trickster?

My interest was further peaked.  I needed to do more research, more profiling while taking into account my neighbors, and my, observations.  A mystery to solve, complete with murderous rampages and the pursuit of those guilty of committing the acts.

A Huntress’s Frustration

My desire to hunt the “coyotes” intensified.  I needed to examine a large “coyote”.  I needed to successfully kill at least one of the predators terrorizing the area – and my frustration was increasing.  I vented.

The rabbit call had been affective, but not as affective as hunters in the magazine claimed.

Curtis pointed out, “These coyotes are after big game.  I think we need a different call: a fawn in distress call.”

An epiphany.  I nodded my head with renewed hope, “You are absolutely right!  Good thinking!  We should be switching up our calls.  We also need a new strategy, us rookies.  This hunting thing isn’t easy.”

“Nope.  Hunting prey animals, isn’t either.”

“It’s frustrating as hell, but I am so determined to get these predators,” I said.

Looking at the lay of the land and discussing strategy.

We packed up and drove home, meeting Frank in our driveway.

“Where are the coyotes?” he said, chuckling as he looked in our truck box.

“No luck,” I smiled.

“They’re on the move right now.  You know,” Frank said in a serious tone, “there are no young mule deer in the herds in my pastures, only adults.  They’re all gone.  I figure the coyotes got them all.  I’m also missing some livestock.  The problem coyotes use to be the mangy ones.  But these look very healthy and they’re big ones now.  They drive a person crazy.”

I nodded, “They’re driving me crazy, too.”

“I wish a person could get rid of a bunch at one time…  You can hunt on any of my land, whenever you want.  Millie said too that the ones by us in the west and the ones here by you, in the east, are the worst ones.”

We agreed.  Coyotes started howling in the distance, I shushed the men, “Listen. Listen to them.”

A few choice words were muttered underneath our breaths.

“People are seeing large tracks with the coyotes,” I said, “bigger than a large dog.”

“Eddie came upon five wolves laying on a grid road last year,” Frank said.

“And, Curt saw wolves west of Pilger, too,” Curtis added.  Pilger was only a few miles away.

“They’ll breed with coyotes,” I added.  Frank shook his head with concern.  I added, “I have no beef with the wolves, it’s these over-populated coyotes.”

We all agreed, also noting the increase of moose and other big game in our area.

“Well, I hope you guys get these coyotes at your place and mine,” Frank encouraged, while I muttered about some people not believing what the coyotes are doing – even though a few locals relayed eye witness accounts.  He moved his hand as if to swat them away, “Never mind the tree huggers, either.  They’ve got no clue.”

I agreed, then dramatically gasped for effect, “I was one Frank!”

He chuckled, nodding and looking at my hunting outfit.  There is always another day…