Man, I'm freaking beat! Started my Utah muzzleloader hunt on Wednesday and we put on somewhere around 40-45 miles through the desert over the past 5 days. Extremely grueling hiking through some rough terrain. Utah is currently going though a severe drought, so tracking these deer through the sand was very difficult. Lots of old tracks that hadn't been washed out in weeks. These desert muleys travel at night and the strategy is to cut a fresh track via hiking or a 4-wheeler in the morning and then hunt them down to where they are bedded during the day for the shot opportunity. That could be miles or a few hundred yards. You never really know what you are getting into. This is hunting at its finest. It's about picking up deer crap and squeezing it to see how fresh it is and how far he's ahead of you. It's about sticking your fingers in the sand where he peed to see if it's still wet or mostly dried up. If you pick an old track by accident, you will waste time and energy trying to chase down a deer that is days ahead. Weapon of choice.....Remington 700 Ultimate with some mods.
The first several days were pretty slow. We saw a few smaller bucks and does that we jumped out of canyons and draws along the river. Yesterday, I shot just under a 200"+ toad at around 240 yards. Came over a ridge and he was standing there, but ready to take off, as he knew we were on his trail, since we accidentally bumped him a bit earlier. I didn't get my shooting sticks up to a good set point due to the sand, my breathing was heavy from 2 miles of hiking up and down sand dunes, and I just flat out rushed the shot. I will never forget missing that deer. A huge kick in the deek.
Back at it this morning and headed to the back country. During the drive, our frustration built up, as the wind was blowing like crazy. Way more than the weather forecaster predicted (shocker). The good news was that the wind would blow out all the old tracks and make for good hunting over the next several days. The bad news is that today wasn't looking good, as last nights tracks would also be gone. Essentially a waste of a day trying to track, unless we could catch a huge break. I started the morning scoping things out on one side of the river and my guide on the other side. He radioed me around 8:30 that he though he had a good, mature track that was really fresh. I drove around to his side and we started trailing. About 700 yards in, we came around a big rock formation and could see him bedded 30 yards right in front of us. The wind was in the complete wrong direction, he caught our scent, and blew out before I could get a shot. Solid deer with some trash on both sides and still in velvet. He headed away from the river which was good news, as it's much easier to follow the tracks up top. After about 3.5 miles, we started getting into some really rocky and shale type ground. It was very noisy and there's no way we could have snuck up on a deer with boots on. This was also the same point that the deer went from running away from us to walking. Off came the boots and into our back packs. We slipped on a 2nd pair of socks, so the bottom of our feet wouldn't get tore up. The next 1.5 miles we're extremely slow, as we got into some serious draws where he could have bedded anywhere. Last thing we wanted to do was bump him again and have another 4-8 miles of hiking. Peek over a ridge, glass, and then go to the next one. Over and over. We got to the point we were using hand signs and not even talking, as we knew we were getting close. Eventually, we came to the top of another ridge. It split just below us, so we were essentially standing in the middle of a Y. We looked down one side, didn't see him, but saw his track continuing down the draw. We dropped off into that side, walked a few steps to the split of the Y and then noticed the the tracks stopped and had gone back up another side. Slowly sneak a peek around the corner and literally 12 yards away, he was laying there. We were behind a bolder and could see his back half, but he couldn't see us. Luckily, the wind was perfect and he didn't smell us either. I slowly leaned over, poked my muzzleloader around the rock, and squeezed a round off. I hit him a little back, since I didn't want to risk leaning over too far and him busting me before I could shoot. I knew if I hit him anywhere decent with that .50 cal 250 grain bullet, we would be good. He jumped up, back flipped, and fell 5 yards in front of me.
One hell of a journey, some beautiful country, a really old buck with some nice character, and one extremely exhausted hunter! I'm having the bottom jaw pulled, but thoughts are that he's around 12 years old. All his front teeth were essentially gone.
*Paragraphs added. Sorry. Posted this all from my phone and didn't realize how long it turned out to be.
A few more pics from the trip....
This little guy almost got us as he was under a ledge we jumped off.
Matching sheds found during our miles and miles of hiking. They were laying about 2' apart.
The famous Henry Mountains.
You can see how low the river is in this pic. We were able to cross it without getting water over our boots.
Sunsets out here are outstanding.
The first several days were pretty slow. We saw a few smaller bucks and does that we jumped out of canyons and draws along the river. Yesterday, I shot just under a 200"+ toad at around 240 yards. Came over a ridge and he was standing there, but ready to take off, as he knew we were on his trail, since we accidentally bumped him a bit earlier. I didn't get my shooting sticks up to a good set point due to the sand, my breathing was heavy from 2 miles of hiking up and down sand dunes, and I just flat out rushed the shot. I will never forget missing that deer. A huge kick in the deek.
Back at it this morning and headed to the back country. During the drive, our frustration built up, as the wind was blowing like crazy. Way more than the weather forecaster predicted (shocker). The good news was that the wind would blow out all the old tracks and make for good hunting over the next several days. The bad news is that today wasn't looking good, as last nights tracks would also be gone. Essentially a waste of a day trying to track, unless we could catch a huge break. I started the morning scoping things out on one side of the river and my guide on the other side. He radioed me around 8:30 that he though he had a good, mature track that was really fresh. I drove around to his side and we started trailing. About 700 yards in, we came around a big rock formation and could see him bedded 30 yards right in front of us. The wind was in the complete wrong direction, he caught our scent, and blew out before I could get a shot. Solid deer with some trash on both sides and still in velvet. He headed away from the river which was good news, as it's much easier to follow the tracks up top. After about 3.5 miles, we started getting into some really rocky and shale type ground. It was very noisy and there's no way we could have snuck up on a deer with boots on. This was also the same point that the deer went from running away from us to walking. Off came the boots and into our back packs. We slipped on a 2nd pair of socks, so the bottom of our feet wouldn't get tore up. The next 1.5 miles we're extremely slow, as we got into some serious draws where he could have bedded anywhere. Last thing we wanted to do was bump him again and have another 4-8 miles of hiking. Peek over a ridge, glass, and then go to the next one. Over and over. We got to the point we were using hand signs and not even talking, as we knew we were getting close. Eventually, we came to the top of another ridge. It split just below us, so we were essentially standing in the middle of a Y. We looked down one side, didn't see him, but saw his track continuing down the draw. We dropped off into that side, walked a few steps to the split of the Y and then noticed the the tracks stopped and had gone back up another side. Slowly sneak a peek around the corner and literally 12 yards away, he was laying there. We were behind a bolder and could see his back half, but he couldn't see us. Luckily, the wind was perfect and he didn't smell us either. I slowly leaned over, poked my muzzleloader around the rock, and squeezed a round off. I hit him a little back, since I didn't want to risk leaning over too far and him busting me before I could shoot. I knew if I hit him anywhere decent with that .50 cal 250 grain bullet, we would be good. He jumped up, back flipped, and fell 5 yards in front of me.
One hell of a journey, some beautiful country, a really old buck with some nice character, and one extremely exhausted hunter! I'm having the bottom jaw pulled, but thoughts are that he's around 12 years old. All his front teeth were essentially gone.
*Paragraphs added. Sorry. Posted this all from my phone and didn't realize how long it turned out to be.
A few more pics from the trip....
This little guy almost got us as he was under a ledge we jumped off.
Matching sheds found during our miles and miles of hiking. They were laying about 2' apart.
The famous Henry Mountains.
You can see how low the river is in this pic. We were able to cross it without getting water over our boots.
Sunsets out here are outstanding.
