Wyoming draws wily coyote hunters far and wide

By SHAUNA STEPHENSON
The Wyoming Tribune Eagle via Associated Press

CHEYENNE, Wyo. (AP) -- Under the fluorescent lights of the Wheatland Maverick Station, coyote hunters gather for an early morning breakfast before heading into the surrounding plains.

Vehicles idle in the parking lot, armed with so much gun power that if Platte County decided to secede today, these guys could single-handedly protect the borders. The clerk smiles at each camouflaged customer as they stock up on items such as Mountain Dew, donuts and Powerbars before heading out on the one day annual hunt.

B.J. Axford, Jason Wilson and Dale Call settle into their old Suburban, subdued and quiet at this pre-dawn hour. Axford and Call are local boys. Wilson is from Denver. They've been hunting coyotes together for years, comfortable with each other and their routine, and are looking to try their luck again today. But as they hit the plains, the wind picks up.

"This wind keeps up like this, the top of that hill isn't going to work very well," Axford says.

Across the state, 50 teams are fanning out, trying to put together all the pieces of a good coyote hunt: good weather, good land knowledge and access, good calling and just a little bit of luck.

Wilson drives the truck over a steep hill, slowing slightly as the sun begins to warm the eastern horizon.

"Gettin' old?" says Call. "You're letting off Jace. You never used to let off at the top of that hill."

"If the wind is going to blow we're in a lot of trouble," Axford says.

Black Sabbath's "Man of War" plays on the radio.

"It's always a gamble with what the wind will do," says Wilson as another gust hits the truck. "We're going to be lucky if we see anything today."

This is the third year for the hunt, which is put on by Vimbo's Dusty Boots in Wheatland.

The rules are straightforward: Teams consist of one to three people. The hunt starts at sun up, and the team with the most coyotes or red fox checked in by 6 p.m. that evening wins. No dogs or aircraft are allowed. Any ties will be broken by weighing the animals. Game and Fish rules apply and no cheating.

"We want people to abide by the rules and have fun," say Don Farrier, co-owner of Vimbo's.

Farrier, an avid hunter, has traveled the world for his hobby but says there's just something about coyotes that keeps things interesting. Fooling predators is much more difficult that fooling prey.

"There is something I believe (it takes) deep down inside to be a coyote hunter -- to be able to fool that animal," he says. "Just to be able to outsmart and outwit."

Wilson agrees.

"I get more excited when I see a coyote then when I see an elk," he says. "They're just a different animal to hunt."

He says it can be an incredibly frustrating and challenging sport.

"It's just so easy not to get anything," he says.

But while part of it is sport, part of it is also predator control, Farrier says, a phrase that gets tossed around quite a bit at any coyote hunt.

Farrier says he certainly thinks people have the right to believe and say whatever they want about coyote hunters, but if they have witnessed the destruction to wildlife and livestock caused by coyotes, they might have a different perspective.

"There's a balance that mankind can play," he says. "The ag community really does support ethical hunting of predators."

Coyote hunting has a long history in this country. For as long as there have been domesticated animals, there have been those who seek to protect those herds.

A report, put out by the University of Wyoming's College of Agriculture in 2009 looked at the economics of predator management in Wyoming over the years. Looking primarily at sheep records (because herd numbers are more historically complete), the report found that from 1965 to 2006 almost 3.3 million head of lambs and sheep were lost to predators.

Of those predators, 65 to 80 percent were coyotes.

When you put that into dollars and cents and adjust for inflation, that's a $185 million loss.

Furthermore, the report found a significant benefit to predator control. For every dollar spent there was a $1.60 to $2.30 benefit to livestock producers. That adds up to about $3.5 to $7.9 million each year.

However, on the other end, there is also this biological note:

Coyotes are known to repopulate an area very quickly. Whatever dip there might be in a population is refilled almost immediately.

In a Wyoming Game and Fish Habitat Extension Bulletin titled "Predator Control and Wildlife," they note that the most successful practices require intensive and continuous control, manpower and money. Some studies have shown that when it comes to coyotes, increased control actually increases litter size, which then increases food requirements, thus increasing predation.

So, to avoid the long, drawn out arguments or name-calling sessions, let's just say that nothing is truly straightforward when it comes to the coyote.

Cujo, a plastic decoy coyote, is set up at a wire panel fence. His eyes bug out as if he is being squeezed too tightly, and his plastic face is more strained than fierce.

"I got ripped off," Axford says, referring to the decoy.

His fake plastic teeth bite the wire. He looks like he wants out.

Axford, Wilson and Call set up in large round hay bales. The wind causes them to sway a bit as blasts of dirt and straw come barreling through the wind tunnels they create. The hunters tuck into the nooks and crannies, retiring to the dark shadows to watch and wait.

A rabbit distress call is sounded, but the wind is so fierce here that it's hard to tell if any coyote has heard it, let alone cares enough to brave the weather to come find it.

A short time passes before they decide this is a futile place to call. They try another spot with no luck. Down a two track they come up on a hill and pile out of the vehicle, preparing to call again. Hiding in some sparse brush, they let out another distressed rabbit noise. To the right, comes a squeak, the sign that Wilson has spotted something. Axford squeaks back and gives another call. More than a thousand yards away stands a single coyote. Then a second. Then a third. They make no response to any of the calls; don't even turn their heads in recognition. They are walking in the opposite direction, messing around like coyotes do.

They're just too far away.

The group decides to find a way to circle around and Wilson goes to grab the truck while Call and Axford keep an eye on them.

They hop in the truck and Wilson heads for the gate.

"God, if they'd only been on draw closer to us," Wilson says. "At least we know there are some out here."

"Makes you feel better to see a few," Call says.

Little do they know the day will not improve. The wind will return. The hunt will become frustrating.

That night, they will get beat out by a team from Cheyenne, who will return with five coyotes.

Word in the bar that night is Wheatland was one of the hardest places to hunt that day. Axford, Call and Wilson can attest.

That's just the luck part of coyote hunting.

"That's the worst thing about coyotes," Wilson says, speeding across the two-track. "They always keep you guessing."

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Information from: Wyoming Tribune Eagle - Cheyenne, http://www.wyomingnews.com

Copyright 2010 The Associated Press.