Where Hunting Happens, Conservation Happens™
Few hunters will shoot a world-record animal. Even fewer hunters (as in just one) will shoot a world’s record, then give the horns away. And yet, that’s just what Mike Gallo did with his record pronghorn.
With his guide in 2013, Gallo first stalked some New Mexico pronghorns with a muzzleloader in the late-summer heat. Every time they tried to get within range of a particular buck, though, it was like the animal knew how far Gallo was willing to shoot—and it stayed just out of range. They played cat and mouse for three days until Gallo switched over to his 7mm LRM. The day he switched rifles, Gallo took a really big buck with one shot. The buck, he recalls, grew bigger as they got closer.
After taking some rough measurements, then waiting the 60-day drying period, then getting it panel scored, the buck was crowned the king. At the Club's 29th Big Game Awards Banquet in Springfield, Missouri, Gallo donated his new World's Record pronghorn to the Boone and Crockett Club's National Collection, which is now on display at Johnny Morris' Wonders of Wildlife National Museum & Aquarium.
For Dale Hislop’s pronghorn hunt on the Hualapai Reservation in Arizona, a plastic water bottle nearly foiled the entire hunt. In 2014 Hislop flew from Calgary, Alberta, to hunt with guide Clay Bravo and his son Dante. Clay had a particular buck in mind, and the men all located the buck early on in the hunt. Like a landmine covered in leaves and pine needles, an old water bottle was just waiting to be stepped on. And once those does heard the unnatural crunch of plastic, they bolted. As the men huddled for cover next to the little vegetation at hand, the herd started moving toward them. At 60 yards, the big buck stopped and Hislop took a shot with his old .257 Weatherby. With some seriously wild horns, Hislop’s buck is one awesome trophy.
While David Meyer was recovering from serious surgery, he researched everything he could about pronghorn. He realized more than a few record-book bucks were coming out of Arizona, so that’s where he decided he should get a tag and a guide. And that’s just what he did in 2002.
When his hunt began that August, Meyer and his guide could not get within shooting distance of one particular big buck. On day two, however, after 12 hours of stalking, Meyer finally had an opportunity to shoot. He missed. Then eight days later, they were scouting when Meyer spotted a clump of sage with horns. Then those horns started moving toward him. At 178 yards, Meyer’s shot broke the silence.
Dylan Woods was 15 years old when he started applying for a pronghorn tag in Arizona’s coveted Unit 9. When he was 20, he was beyond shocked to learn that he had drawn a tag to hunt the unit—especially since he had never hunted pronghorn before. He scouted the area with friends, and they had a spot picked for the opener. Arriving well before dawn, they were disappointed to see other hunters already there. As they were driving to a new spot, a group of bucks and does ran across the road in front of them. They got out, started hiking and slowly started peeking into the gullies. That’s when Woods saw a lone buck he had never seen before, and it was big. “As soon as I saw the horns through my binoculars, I started to tremble,” he recalled. He made a stalk on his belly, and when the buck started to walk toward him, he started to tremble even more. His first shot missed, but he gathered his nerve and his 7mm Rem Mag connected on the second shot.
"The wildlife and its habitat cannot speak. So we must and we will."
-Theodore Roosevelt