My First Mule Deer Buck:
This season has been a lot of dodging other hunters- definitely a learning curve. I will be changing the way I scout in the future. So tempting to get my head down and throw in the towel several times. Lots of stuff outside of hunting going on- that's the problem of living where you hunt. You aren't away on a trip, unplugged for a week. "Real life" is always rkght there, tugging at you.
On Tuesday, I went into a little place I had seen some bucks just before archery season. This is a small sliver of dense forest with one very old logging road. Most people just drive right by it, because it isn't big and is next tk private land. I committed to this spot- hoping that if I just put in enough hours, a buck would make a mistake.
First day, 10 minutes after leaving the Jeep had a fleeting shot opp at a good deer. He walkered away just as I was flipping off the safety. Spent the rest of the evening watching orange hats bobble about.
2nd day, deer I was stalking busted by other hunters. Twice...
I was seeing deer, so I kept at it. Yesterday, sat up on the thick hill, had a few deer scoot by, obviously bumped. Nothing within range. Enjoying the scenery.
Decided to stalk back to the Jeep though some thick little draws- it was my last chance to hunt most likely. If I busted them, so be it. I was able to get up on a little forked horn and some does, didn't see anything else. I likely pushed some deer too.
Hiking down, 3/4 mile from the Jeep is the last good meadow. I find a group of does in it, so I crawled within range and decided to wait out the last few minutes of light with them.
No bucks with them, and they fed off to the left. I was so tempted to get down, pack my crap up, and walk back to the Jeep defeated. But I said, what the heck, might as well stalk back to the Jeep. 99% chance everything is already behind me, but who knows. So I said a little last light prayer, and quietly as I could made it across the meadow. The does didn't bust. As I round the corner back into the brush, I see a buck. He is coming up the logging road right to me. We see each other at the same moment- I pull up for a shot. His body is compels covered by the slope. As I'm debating a neck shot @ 40 yards, he bounds away up a thick oak brush hill- but the brush is all short. I literally sprint to the next opening where I can see up the hill- thinking he will either run a mile, or stop and see what is behind him as they sometimes do. Praise God he did the later.
I see him at a hair under 150yards standing there, in the fading light. No time to think, he is twitching to go. Thankful for all the hours of shooting practice. I pull up, immediate settle in, and boom. He goes straight down.
I had no idea what sort of dear I was walking up on. Thought it was a 2x maybe, as ide been seeing on with deep forks. But it was a young 4x4. Lots of height and full velvet- a first for me. He is going to eat well!
Took me till 10:3 to get him off the mountain, because I lost my headlamp somewhere in the scramble. So I had to drag him full dead weight down to the Jeep and clean him in the headlights. That part was not fun. Looking forward to some good sausage though!
This guy is a trophy to me- put in LOTS of miles on the boots, tons of time, pressed though many obstacles- and shot a good little deer 3/4 mile from my Jeep, with last light on likely my last day... ha ha! God is good (and has a sense of humor!)