That evening two more friends from Idaho met us in camp, hadn't seen them in several years so we all had a good time catching up and telling hunting story lies.
Sunday was spent doing more scouting. We covered many miles, and found very few animals, certainly not what any of us was expecting. What few animals we saw were very spooky, and would bolt at the sight of a pickup from a half mile away. At this point I felt we would be doing good if a couple of us would get a distant shot at a buck when the season opened the following day. The terrain was pretty flat and that's your only cover.
Opening morning I was going to go about two miles north of camp and watch a water hole that we found the day before. I hadn't made it much more than a half mile from camp when I saw an antelope off in the distance. After a quick look through my field glasses I saw it was a pretty good buck, no record book material, but he looked like a good representative of the area. I used the terrain the best I could to try to close the distance. I felt he was in range of my rifle, so I tried to get a reading with my laser rangefinder but the low angle of the sun, or something else prevented me from getting a reading. I guessed he was about 400 yards, but without verification from the rangefinder there was no way I was going to take the shot. This new, flat terrain had already proved estimating range a difficult task for this Missouri boy. I let him walk on over the next slight rise, and out of sight. I moved ahead so the sun would be at my back as I pursued him. I quietly made my way over to the rise he had disappeared behind and ever so slowly edged ahead. As I neared the high point I peeked over and could still see him, well within range. Now with the sun at my back I got a reading with my rangefinder, 370 yards. I dropped down and started my crawl to get to the high point so I could get prone and still see him. Those darn little cactus that are everywhere got to be a real pain, quite literally.
After a few minutes I got in a good spot and settled my rifle over my pack, one more quick check of the range and he was still at 370. I settled in and started applying pressure to the trigger. At the shot he bucked up, ran a few yards and just stood there. I could see blood on the offside shoulder and it was a good hit. A few seconds later he was down.
After got up to him, I was not disappointed. I'm sure there are much bigger antelope, but this one is a dandy to me.
Turns out the hunting wasn't as bad as I was afraid it would be, as all five of us tagged out in the first two days of the season. It was a great time spent with great friends, and made some memories that will last a lifetime.
Rifle is a little light for hunting antelope, aint it? Everyone knows you cant hit an antelope in Wyoming without using at least a .300 Loundenboomen Mangle'em. You must be reading the wrong gun magazines. 
But as you saw this country sure need the moisture.
Next time bid for the Red Desert... That's Jerry's Current, and my Teenhood stomping grounds...
