Speed Goats Of The Eastern Plains

I had always wanted a pronghorn. Speed goat, they call them. Fast, sharp-eyed, and out in the wide, windblown spaces.

Eastern Plains Of Colorado Pronghorn AKA Speed Goat

Colorado was the place. Elbert County, on the Eastern Plains. The kind of land where you see rolling hills forever.

It was a long haul from Australia. The jet lag hit hard. I flew into Texas, then drove north, crossing the plains to Colorado Springs with a tired head and a rifle case in the back. Back in 2010 it was about $1250 for a hunt package, now its $3500 in 2025.

My rifle was a Thompson Encore Pro Hunter in .270. It wore a 4x16 scope and was loaded with 130-grain Barnes. I knew what it could do. It was ready.

I rolled into camp around one in the afternoon. My guide looked at the sky and didn’t waste time.

“Storm’s coming,” he said. “Could turn into a blizzard". Get your gear. We go in twenty.

I was half awake, half frozen. But the hunt was on. That’s all that mattered.

We drove hard across the prairie. Parked below the skyline and glassed the fields. The wind had teeth. Snow was already starting to fall.

Fifteen minutes passed. A herd appeared. Feeding ahead of the storm.

“Twenty minutes of light left,” my guide said. “Let’s move.”

We crept through the white. The herd didn’t see us. The wind was in our favor. So was the snow.

“

That one,” the guide whispered. “He’s a shooter.”

I lay prone. Found him in the scope. The crosshairs settled. The trigger broke clean. The .270 kicked, and the goat dropped.

Simple as that.

We tagged him, dragged him out fast. The storm was right on us. Snow thickened, and the truck tires grumbled in the mud. We made it out just in time.

Back at camp, we gutted him. Took photos in the cold gray light of morning. Then I drove to Don, a taxidermist in Colorado Springs. Straight shooter. Good hands. I trusted him.

A year later, I picked the mount up. Hauled it back to Australia in an old Coleman cooler. Checked baggage. Qantas didn’t blink.

It was one of my shortest hunts in the U.S., but one of the cleanest. In and out. No nonsense. A buck on the ground before dark.

I’ve got Wyoming on my mind now. Been collecting preference points for twelve years. Someday I’ll go. Someday I’ll chase another speed goat across the wind.