When it comes to hunting pronghorn antelope, it’s all about their eyes. After seven failed stalks, I’ll admit I was feeling whipped. There’s no sure-fire way of overcoming a pronghorn’s superior vision, at least not in mid-August, before the mating season. During the rut, a crazed buck may run in to a decoy or even be susceptible to rudimentary forms of flagging. But this was August 16th, and these critters were sharp. Despite my camo, I was not invisible to those prairie goats. They kept spotting me, and I was beginning to feel like a fool.

I undertook my eighth stalk in a pretty bleak frame of mind. The fact that I was pursuing a group of 20 animals made my chances especially dim. After spending 90 minutes crawling up on the herd, comprised of 19 does and one buck, I felt crushed when one spotted me and the throng went into overdrive to escape. Helplessly, I watched them sprint off into the distance, eventually vanishing into a hollow area on the vast Colorado prairie. After a couple of minutes, I came up with a plan. As Homo sapiens, we must employ our superior cunning to get the advantage on this keen-eyed species.

I walked briskly toward the rim of the bowl, dropped on my belly, and slithered up a rise to a point where I could see the antelope in the hollow below. They had settled down and were grazing contentedly. The buck was quartering away slightly at 25 yards as I knelt and drew back my recurve.

“Is this really happening?” I asked myself.

Before I knew it, I was watching the arrow impact the stocky buck’s vitals. He ran 50 yards and did a spectacular face plant in the dirt. Immediately after the shot, the does saw me and disappeared over the horizon in a matter of seconds. I wilted into a sitting position, trying to collect my thoughts.

Jeff always totes 10X binoculars when chasing pronghorns, hoping to level the playing field.

Every time I succeed on a pronghorn hunt, I’m a little bit surprised. Despite the fact that I’ve bagged a prairie goat 24 out of 25 seasons, each year as I set out in mid-August I expect to fail. And I do. Repeatedly. I have come to understand that failed stalks are part of the game. This year, for example, I tried unsuccessfully seven times before arrowing my buck. It’s never easy.

We’ve all heard or read that a pronghorn’s vision is equivalent to 10X binoculars. This means that most of the time they spot us before we spot them. Once they see you, they will not allow you to sneak up to bow range. While you cannot beat their eyes, there are several ways to outfox antelope.

One big mistake committed by novice antelope hunters is dogging an alerted buck. It is understandable. An archer locates a trophy buck, gets excited, realizes that the buck has seen him or her but not vacated the area entirely, and begins pursuing the animal relentlessly. The sad fact is that no human can catch a pronghorn. We cannot run over 60 m.p.h. as they can, and a mature buck will not let you inside his safety zone, generally around 200 yards. My preferred tactic is to back off, get out of sight, and wait. Waiting is a big part of pronghorn hunting. Waiting, watching, and thinking. This is the time to come up with a strategy.

Years ago, I learned a valuable lesson during an especially demanding hunt. On the ninth day of the season, I squinted through my binoculars and caught a glimpse of a solitary buck bobbing through a tall patch of sage in the distance. Once he disappeared into a ditch, I sprinted 100 yards to a point from which I could initiate my next move. I crouched behind a cholla and waited for him to reappear.

Steadying my binoculars, I observed the buck’s black horns rise up out of the ditch, followed by his lean tan-and-white body shimmering in the intensifying sun rays. I scrutinized his headgear, which looked good to me. I now needed a plan of attack. I found myself in an unusual situation. Between me and the pronghorn, spaced every 50 or 60 yards stood a small patch of sage, cactus, or soapweed. With this type of cover, I imagined I would be able to close in on the buck in a linear fashion. He was approximately 400 yards out. Typical pronghorn country is so vast and open that it precludes a direct approach. In the past, I had always found it necessary to circle an antelope, using terrain features such as coulees, and position myself to intercept him. Now I faced what was, for me, a rare opportunity. This would be an interesting experiment. I would move only under certain conditions: the buck must be facing away or have his vision obscured somehow, and I would stay low and crawl from one piece of cover to the next.

Having emerged from the ditch, the buck fed slowly through the sagebrush. Each time he turned away, I slithered toward the next substantial bit of cover, carefully avoiding the prickly pear and soapweed. Kneepads and heavy leather gloves protected me from the menacing plants of the prairie.

My first few moves went unnoticed, and after 90 minutes I had cut the distance in half. I was now within 200 yards of the buck. As I proceeded to slink toward a large patch of sage, the animal appeared more alert. When he suddenly turned and gazed in my direction, I froze. He too remained motionless with his eyes fixed on my position. He had apparently detected some movement. A waiting game ensued. Neither one of us batted an eye or twitched a muscle. I felt the intensity of the sun baking my neck as I lay prone. Finally, the buck turned and slowly moved away from me, disappearing over a rise. I waited to catch a glimpse of him before continuing my stalk.

I scanned the prairie for ten minutes before I relocated him another 200 yards from my position. We were back at square one. Somewhat frustrated but not dissuaded, I began to close the gap again, continuing to sneak from cactus to cactus, from sage patch to sage patch. As I did so, the buck continued to move as well, eluding me all along. Several times I was nearly busted by the sharp eyes of my quarry. At last, I was poised to make my final move.

The buck had bedded down on the other side of a large cholla approximately 100 yards from my position. I had watched him drop behind the plant, facing away from me, but now I could not see him. Since that meant that he probably could not see me either, I slowly crawled toward his cover.

After closing the distance to 30 yards, I remained low and cautiously positioned myself for a shot. Kneeling, I drew back my recurve, identifying the buck’s vitals through the cholla. There was a small hole to shoot through. “Can I thread the needle?” I asked myself. Just then, the arrow was on its way. I never even answered my own question.

In 2020, persistence paid off. Despite seven failed stalks, Jeff simply refused to quit. This dandy buck was his reward.

Movement flashed behind the cactus as the antelope erupted into action. He bounded 20 yards or so, then spun around as he stumbled and fell. At the outset of this hunt, I doubted that it was possible to sneak up on a buck in a straight line, based on my experience. This stalk changed my mind. Always be ready to learn something new when pronghorn hunting. They are great teachers. When all was said and done, I had succeeded in remaining invisible during a prolonged linear stalk. And with antelope, that’s the key.

Besides stalking, ambushing pronghorns can be effective. Early in the archery season, before the frenzy of the rut, pronghorn antelope can be patterned fairly easily. With a modest expenditure of effort, you can figure these critters out. Regardless of your hunting tactics, knowing where pronghorns bed, feed, water, and travel will be a tremendous aid. Whether you plan to sit a blind or stalk these animals, an appropriate measure of relevant information will prove invaluable.

When most folks think of patterning antelope, waterholes come to mind. But in addition to their preferred places to drink, bucks are very territorial. Since April, in many cases, they’ve already established their favorite haunts, which they will not abandon unless pressured to do so. Pinpoint these zones and you’ll have a definite advantage.

You can combine foot-hunting and ambushing. Over the years, I’ve had a good amount of success stalking pronghorns. It’s not because I’m the stealthiest guy on the prairie, but it’s because when I spot a buck I’d like to pursue, I already have a good idea of where he’s headed. Prior to each hunt, I take time to pattern the antelope in my area.

Whenever I spot a buck on the move, I immediately slow down, collect my thoughts, and coach myself in the following manner: “He’s at point A now. In one hour, he’ll be at point C. From point B, where the terrain is more suitable for a sneak, I can initiate my stalk with far better odds for success.” Then I back out and slip into point B, wait for the buck to show up, and plan my approach from there.

The same technique can work for you. Depending on conditions and the temperament of your quarry, you may be able to set up an ambush and hold tight. But most times, when the animals come into view, you’ll have to move around and position yourself for a stalk, since pronghorns tend to follow a zigzagging route. You must be nimble.

Stalking antelope is largely about self-discipline. It all begins with proper scouting. I like to establish a routine and stick to it. I’m generally in position for glassing at daybreak, when patterns are most obvious. At first light, pronghorns follow their normal travel routes, since usually nothing has disturbed them at this point. Having the patience to spend hours behind a spotting scope is essential.

Antelope move frequently throughout the course of an average day, so you might need to break up your scouting into distinct periods. For example, the morning pattern might go from sunup till 11:00. Noon till 3:00 p.m. might make up their midday pattern. And 3:30 till the end of hunting hours could be their last pattern. Taking notes is a good idea.

There is a temptation to stalk a nice buck as soon as you spot him, and that’s where discipline really comes into play. Don’t let your excitement get the best of you. Believe me, holding off until you can determine his pattern is worth the wait. Later, if your first attempt to stalk him fails, you can retreat, circle around and try again (possibly in better terrain, where more cover is available). After all, you will know where he’s likely to be.

Use terrain features to become invisible.

Always remember to remain invisible. And I’m not just talking about wearing good camouflage. If possible, move on antelope when they have disappeared from view. This is the only time when they have no chance of seeing you. If they are invisible to you, it is likely that you are invisible to them. But be aware. There is often a lone spotter posted on a high point watching for danger. These sentinels will bust you every time.

When stalking, try to approach from the rear. While a buck meanders across the prairie,

There is no doubt that most bowhunters succeed on pronghorns by hunting from a blind, usually set near a waterhole. I have tried this method on numerous occasions, but I always end up foot-hunting the prairie speedsters. If you are able to tolerate the oven-like heat of a summer blind, don’t mind insects, and have extreme patience, by all means jump in your pop-up and improve your odds for success.

Don’t be afraid to mix things up. The single most important lesson I’ve learned during my quarter-century of pronghorn hunting is to be flexible. If one tactic is not working, try something different. Do not get locked into one method of pursuing these moody creatures.

Regardless of how you decide to hunt pronghorn antelope, keep their exceptional eyesight in mind. While you cannot just wish away their acute vision, there are ways to fool or outmaneuver these critters. As humans, we have a definite advantage when it comes to brains. Spend plenty of time thinking, lots of time watching, and an aggravating amount of time waiting. Sooner or later, you’ll come up with a plan.