Predators: Bowhunting, Verminator Style

Predators: Bowhunting, Verminator Style
Can you successfully hunt coyotes with a bow?
By TR & Rick

When my buddy called me late one night and threw out the idea of calling predators, my ears perked up as usual. Nothing gets my blood pumping faster than the sight of a predator coming to the call, but then the mention of a bow and arrow was thrown into the conversation. I thought the Verminator had been sippin’ some tainted lemonade out behind the barn. Most of us know that shooting a predator with a bow is an accomplishment, but shooting a predator that is coming to the call with a bow and arrow and catching the action on film is about as likely as drawing a royal flush in Texas Hold’em.

One of the first things I would need to adjust before taking on a predator with my bow would be my definition of success. Using a rifle to call and kill predators can be a challenge in its own right, a kill with a bow would not be nearly as easy. One thing for sure, success would have to be measured by more than a kill. I decided to measure success by the knowledge that I gained from the experience of the hunt.

It wasn’t long after that phone conversation that I found myself toting my bow and walking the high prairies of eastern Colorado with my buddy Rick and cameraman Joe. We had some close calls; more coyotes came and went without a shot being fired than I can count on my fingers and toes.

Finally, we had a memorable hunt that took place with the Verminator near my home here in Eastern Colorado. The terrain in these parts is open rolling hills with very few trees; the soap weed is the only cover available. So much for getting in the shade like the experts have always preached. Instead, we tried to keep the sun at our backs and wear camo to blend as well as possible into the surroundings. There were four of us, including the ranch owner, Mark, and our cameraman, Joe. Mark was carrying a rifle for backup, as he is the one that wants to see dead coyotes, not educated coyotes. We went to one of our favorite honey holes where there are only rare occasions where we don’t call in a coyote. We entered this calling area across an open flat and dropped over a stair-stepped hill that overlooked a wide, dry creek bed. The only reason that we didn’t spook coyotes out as we entered is because they are usually bedded down at that time of the day. The coyotes almost always come from straight across the creek bed from a deep cut in the far hill. The Verminator sat downwind of me, about 80 yards away. Mark sat up the hill behind and between us, and Joe sat about 10 feet directly behind me. Rick had his bow in hand and I had mine as well; but, figuring that the coyote would end up somewhere downwind, the shot would most likely be Rick’s. I started the set with tweety, doing my best rendition of rabbit agony. About six or seven minutes into the set, I noticed a single customer coming just 250 yards straight out in front of me. I alerted Joe and prepared to work this coyote into Rick for a shot. The coyote was coming at a gallop and began to swing downwind, just like he knew the drill. At about 100 yards, the coyote slowed to a trot and began swinging more toward Rick than me. It was then that the coyote looked directly at Rick and you could just see, as it raised its head, that it was starting to get that sense that something was amuck. About this time, I lip-squeaked to draw the coyote’s attention back toward Joe and me so that Rick would have a chance to draw back for the shot. But, to my dismay, I found that my little lip-squeak had turned the coyote directly back my way. I had not planned to shoot, so my bow was still on my lap. As the coyote quickly closed the distance, I froze – there was not much else I could do. Finally, at a mere 20 yards, the coyote either smelled me, saw me, or just sensed my presence and spun around and began a hasty retreat. I quickly raised my bow and started tracking the moving coyote while at the same time mouth-barking to try and turn and stop it. It worked, and the coyote came to a broadside stop. My mind raced to determine distance and, in the blink of an eye, I had a Goldtip arrow with a 100-grain Spitfire leading the way toward the coyote. Whack! My arrow found its mark. The coyote spun and was running full-out back across the dry creek bed. The dog only made it about 100 yards before cartwheeling to a halt. Without wasting even a moment, I began more dying rabbit blues on my tweety, hoping for a second target.

After a couple more minutes of calling, I heard Joe whisper something. I thought I heard something about, “I didn’t get it.” I just kept right on calling, because I actually thought Joe was pullin’ my leg. But, a minute later, I heard those words again, “TR, I didn’t get it.” What? He said it again, “I didn’t get that filmed.” So it goes sometimes. Turns out that the hill we were sitting on was part of that stair-stepped terrain. Joe was on the next step above me, and when the coyote got to the base of the hill, he was barely visible to the camera. At that point, Joe decided to focus the camera on the terrain and not the coyote. The filming went downhill from there, literally. Nonetheless, we had an awesome hunt, one that none of us will ever forget. The Verminator was displeased, a little, at Joe, and Joe was not pleased either. I wasn’t pleased either for that matter, but I blame the coyote for not sticking to the script and giving Rick the shot as was planned. Mark, meanwhile, was in disbelief at what he had witnessed with the hunt, the shot, and the quickness of the kill from the arrow.

After all was said and done, and it was verified that the footage was no good, Rick decided it was time to head back to Kansas. It was just late morning, however, so I tried to convince the guys to stay for a couple more stands, but no deal. Rick was no longer in a mood to continue hunting and was ready to throw in the towel. Mark suggested that we stop in Limon, Colorado on our way home to get lunch and that Joe should buy Rick a Happy Meal from McDonalds. From that day on, that hot spot for calling became known as “The Happy Meal” spot.

One thing about calling predators to the bow is that sometimes it’s better to be lucky than to be good. In calling coyotes, one quickly learns that the coyote has tendencies, but no rules. For example, most coyotes like to get downwind of the source of distress sound because they often have the need to satisfy more than one of their senses that danger does not lurk at the scene. The coyote is wary, in fact, I can’t even think of a more wary animal. If a coyote senses danger, they most likely won’t stand around trying to see the threat; instead, they may look over their shoulder for the danger while leaving the area. Often, when a coyote begins to flee an area where they sense danger, they will go the same way they came. If they smell human, they often won’t even look over their shoulder while fleeing. But, if a coyote is leaving and looking over its shoulder, use your mouth to bark at it, sometimes the coyote will stop.

When hunting coyotes with a bow and arrow, we like to have the coyotes coming slow. To do this, try to give the coyote only enough distress sound to keep it moving your way. If the coyote is coming your way, hold tight and let it come. A slower, incoming coyote is better because it will give the shooter more time to estimate range, and usually more time to take the shot. Sometimes, however, this may only cause the shooter more frayed nerves.

The need for a decoy is questionable. We’ve witnessed coyotes that have stopped their direct route toward us and begin to circle once they spotted a decoy. We’ve also witnessed coyotes that get hung up out of range. In these situations, a decoy might have been just the ticket. But, if you think a decoy is going to bring the fur into range on every stand, you need to realize that this is simply not the case. Each coyote will react as differently to a decoy as they do to any distress call.

Speaking of distress calls, which call should you use? There’s no one call that will always work, but every call will work sometimes. Even if you live where there’s not a jackrabbit within a hundred miles, a jackrabbit distress will still call coyotes. And, just because the fawns aren’t dropping doesn’t mean that a fawn-in-distress call won’t call coyotes. It’s more about the rhythm and excitement of the call than the sound and time of year that the call is being used. Coyotes react to a call, not necessarily because they have heard the sound before and recognize it as a free lunch, but because they have an instinct and a curiosity to find the source of the sound. I’ve heard some awful sounding calls over the years, even a few from my calls, but it never ceases to amaze me that coyotes come to a lot of different sounds. Take the Verminator Syco for instance. When I use mine, I’ve often wondered what animal would make a distress sound like that, but I have called numerous coyotes with it. So be creative. The rabbit distress probably still calls more coyotes than any other call, but don’t be stuck on one sound. Kind of like fishing, sometimes your favorite lure works, and sometimes it’s better to use a new lure.

Anyway you slice it, calling coyotes and using archery in an attempt to kill them is tough business. A lot of cards have to fall in the right order for the final outcome to be a kill. It took the Verminators three seasons to catch 24 kills on film. We had a few kills that just didn’t get caught on film, such as the Happy Meal hunt. We had enough missed opportunities that we could’ve made a whole film with just that action. And the coyotes that we called that never got shot at? There were about the same number as the fleas on a dogs back!

If you want up-close action, and if you want to learn a lot about how coyotes react to being called, take a bow with you. While you’re waiting on them to get close enough for a shot with your bow, you may learn some things that you wouldn’t have if you’d had a rifle in your hands.