November 2024
The last time my dad and I had hunted together was 2021 when we both had moose tags. My dad was now retired and it was time to once again start logging some serious father son time in the woods. This years deer hunt would hopefully be the start of some great trips together again.
The in-laws had drawn some mule deer tags in the area and they were extra excited to chase big mule deer bucks. My dad and I grabbed general whitetail tags, for the area held both species.
Rick, Trevor and Alex started their hunt a few days earlier than my dad and I. By the end of the third day, both Alex and Rick had harvested their deer.
My dad and I arrived in camp, regretful we had missed out on the experience of the 2 bucks already harvested. However, with more snow in the forecast and the rut just starting, we were optimistic the hunting would only get better.
My first morning found me walking the edge of a canyon; the same edge I harvested my last whitetail buck. It turned into an extremely productive morning with many deer spotted, gobbling flocks of turkeys, a bobcat, a pass on a medium sized buck and another buck giving me the slip. Hopefully I wouldn't regret passing on the first buck this early in the trip, but I was after a quality deer and that buck just didn't get me that excited.
(bobcat in center)
I also found a promising scrape where I set a trail camera to see what other deer were in the area.
That evening, my dad and I watched a large open area. 45 minutes before dark, we saw the movement of some running deer. Our binoculars were up immediately, spotting a large buck chasing a doe. This doe must have been in heat because more bucks started to show up. One of the bucks was an absolute giant! Knowing we had little time, I told my dad we needed to go after them. We crept our way from bush to bush, trying to stay undetected to cut the distance. We reached a spot where I feared any further movement would spook all the deer. In my haste to cut the distance, I had left my rangefinder behind. I guessed we were 350 yards from the big buck. My dad was having a difficult time seeing and differentiating the deer, even in his scope. I didn't think we could get any closer and darkness was quickly approaching so I got comfortable for a shot. I centered on the giant buck and took my shot. BOOOOM! The deer disappeared. Did I drop him? Then he appeared again, coming out from behind a nearby bush. BOOOOM! I shot again, and the buck just stood there. BOOOOM! He walked a little further away. BOOOOM! Where were my shots landing? I was disgusted. My gun was now empty, and I had also forgotten any extra shells back with my rangefinder. Was this even the same buck? Another nice buck appeared. It had turned into chaos. My dad handed me his gun but I knew the whole scenario was just bad. There were several nice bucks chasing the same doe in the same clump of bushes. Had I dropped the first big buck? I didn't want to risk shooting 2 deer so I handed my dads rifle back to him. I needed to make sure I didn't have a dead deer over there. We started walking towards the area and most of the deer just stood staring at us. This was when I learned one of the many lessons this chain of events would teach me; a doe in heat will make even the wariest bucks, downright stupid. The bucks all looked at each other, daring one another to leave this doe. They were absolutely twitter-patted. It was obvious now, we could have closed a lot more distance on these deer because they were so distracted by the doe. We reached the clump of bushes where there MIGHT be a dead deer. No blood or any evidence my shots had hit any deer to be found. I felt sick for squandering a prime opportunity at a really giant deer. So many lessons learned: always keep your rangefinder on you, always carry spare shells, practice shooting your rifle at further distances and rutted up deer will allow you to get closer than you think. I was shooting my .243; a newer gun for me and a rifle I had never practiced shooting more than 200 yards. Had I bumped the scope? Either way, I was glad I had brought another rifle; my trusty 30-06; a gun I have practiced out to further ranges. Disgusted in myself, we went back to camp.
The following morning we decided to repeat the same productive walk along the canyon edge I had done previously. Excited to show my dad lots of great country, we set off early and were into deer in no time. We slowly crept along the top, peering ahead and down into the many cuts, ridges and small benches. Whitetail deer are nearly impossible to sneak up on, and this morning was no exception. No matter how slow we walked and intently scanned with our eyes, deer would suddenly show in front of us, already spooked from our presence. Regardless, we pushed on, hoping to luck out.
We were nearly 2/3 of the way to the end of our walk when I looked ahead and spotted a deer. Luckily the deer was still a few hundred yards away and hadn't noticed us yet. To the naked eye it appeared to be a small buck. My binoculars confirmed this so we started our stalk. We closed the distance to 200 yards from the deer where a large rock made a great gun rest. My dad settled in for the shot. BOOOOM! The deer jolted and hunched and then took off running, quickly disappearing from view.
The shot appeared to be lethal but we still waited 30 minutes before approaching the area. The deer had been standing in 10-20 inch tall, tan grass. It took a while to find where the deer had been standing when hit but we eventually did and there was a small amount of blood.
We followed the small blood trail through the grass but it wasn't easy. Several times we lost the trail and I had to nearly crawl on my hands and knees to pick it back up. The deer also went a different direction than I had previously thought. I lost the trail again and started to get discouraged. Then I nearly stepped on the deer. I was absolutely amazed the deer had been laying in this grass right by us for some time and was nearly invisible.
It had been numerous years since my dad had harvested a deer. We celebrated and thanked the Lord for this deer and its sacrifice. We decided to gut the deer and do the old fashioned drag, pulling it a quarter mile over to a road where we could get the truck.
The next morning I decided to still hunt through a thick stand of timber on "elf-toe ridge". I was creeping through a dark stand of timber with little undergrowth when I spotted movement just ahead. I caught the glimpse of some deer legs underneath a horizontal downed tree. Then I saw the tops of some antlers. Perfect! Only 40 yards ahead of me was a nice buck who had no idea I was there. The deer was walking from right to left and was about to step out from behind a tree. This was it! CLICK!!! I released the safety of my rifle, which decided to make the loudest noise a safety has ever made. The deer bolted like I had just slapped it in the butt. Just like that, I went from thinking I had a nice buck in the bag to shock and amazement. I continued on my trek through the woods cursing my bad luck. I found a good scrape in an area where a ground blind setup could work. I made a mental note and headed back to camp.
That evening I checked the camera I had set on the first scrape I had found and sure enough, there were some bucks in the area checking it.
