Just back from another hunt in some really tough cold and wind. When this buck hit the dirt this afternoon, the temps had finally moderated - probably in the high teens. Wind on these ridges probably close to the same.
This was a limited entry hunt in SW Montana. We have very few limited entry units. Felt lucky to draw a tag with so few points. And, until the first morning of this hunt, I had never stepped foot in the unit; heck, had not even driven past in my 23 years of living in Montana.
Saw this buck yesterday afternoon. Had to let him go, due to his crazy doe-searching travels up and down the ridges, finally disappearing in some timber and not emerging by the time I wanted to start hunting my way out the drainage and back toward the rig. I resolved if the chance came the following day, I would be shooting.
This morning, we went in below and glassed the high ridges above. It took a while, but by about 8:00am, he was again darting through the scrub fir, looking for hot does. We headed to the end of the motorized area, parked the truck, and started hoofing it into the non-motorized area this guy was so fond of.
In short order, he was spotted about 600 yards above, checking a group that had ten does. We got to within 350 yards when he gave a quick broadside shot. It felt rushed and not what I was hoping for, so I held off, watching him turn and walk straight away and melt into the darkness of timber. Dang it!
We then hiked up a small ridge to a knob that gave us a great view of everything out in front. We were rather exposed to the wind and to any deer that might come in behind, but it was the best spot for relocating this buck.
Over the course of the next two hours, doe after doe was glassed. The place was filled with more 3.5 and 4.5 year-old forkies of any place I have ever seen. Big bodied deer, pushing does and running off smaller three and four-point bucks. Not sure how many big forkies we saw, but suffice to say it was plenty.
Around 10:30 am, Tyler (camera guy) spotted a couple deer on the ridge forming the far south rim of the basin. I was glassing the other direction, waiting for a buck to come and check a group of seven does bedded in the open. When Tyler yelled, "Two bucks fighting" and he scrambled for his camera gear, I turned just in time to see two bucks tearing each other apart and then sliding down the rocks into the dark timber below them. Even at 1,000 yards, one of them looked like the buck I was chasing.
Eventually, a smaller buck emerged and bedded with the prize doe. He was sporting a freshly busted G3 and G4, if he was the other four point we had been watching earlier and not too far away from the battle ground. No sign of what I thought was the bigger buck we were chasing.
Another two hours of boredom was occasionally interrupted by new does making themselves visible and smaller bucks cruising the ridges in the basin, often times coming really close. I had the spotter on a buck on the top ridge way above us, trying to see if he was the dude we had been chasing, when Tyler came hustling to my position to tell me that a buck had emerged across from us and look to be the buck from last night. I moved my spotter to that side of the knoll and sure enough, there he was.
We were NE of his position and he was headed NW. Not good. If he kept going on the ridge and into the next basin, the odds of finding him today would disappear. Big country and hard to follow deer in this kind of terrain. They are more adept at navigating such, especially in a foot of snow, than most hunters; or at least this hunter.
Then, the biggest stroke of luck of the entire hunting season rolled our way. Seeing the does bedded below, us, the buck did a hard right, taking him down a small spine ridge that terminated in the steep draw below us. I ranged him - 600, then 525, then he disappeared into some trees. He emerged at 460.
Tyler and I agreed, we needed to drop down (more like skiing in Kenentreks) and be in position when/if this buck got within shooting range. Given the wind was straight in our face, I felt it was our best option.
We were temporarily stalled by a doe standing from her bed. She bounded down the hill toward when the buck was headed. When we got through this patch of maybe a dozen trees, the buck was gone. Vanished. WTH?
Our only option was to continue dropping down and hope we could find him in the cut right below us. We moved slightly to our left, then down. I was glassing frantically across the coulee to the scattered trees I had last seen him at maybe 350 yards. He had to be there, even if I wasn't seeing him.
I kept scouring. I knew he was there. The buck had disappeared at almost our same elevation. The timber was not that thick. He must be behind at tree.
I pressed the binos tighter to my eyes, straining to see an antler, an ear, something. As I scoured, Tyler whispered loudly, 'There he is, right underneath us." I dropped the binos and right below, at less than 150 yards, the buck came storming out of the bottom of the canyon, two does right on his tail.
We now had to move down and further left, hoping they crossed the toe of this ridge down and across from us. They did. The buck stopped on the edge of a clump of trees, somewhat obscured. The does stood broadside in the wide open snow, looking up and across to see what these orange-vested objects were up to. Range - 185 yards.
I tried to ready a shot on the buck, just as he dropped into a small depression marked by a thick stand of trees maybe 50 yards wide. I told Tyler if he came up the other side, I would be on him and try to take him. I had no more than ranged a tree at the top of that big opening to be 350, when the buck started making his way out of the timber and into the snow-covered sage across from us.
I followed him with the scope as he moved almost straight away and gaining elevation. He was slowing and I suspected he would look back at his does. As he started to turn his head back our direction, I had the cross hairs right in front of him. Expecting him to take one final step into the bullet's path, I squeezed, only to send a bullet a couple inches in front of his chest. A few expletives were provided.
He hung a hard right and was now moving straight across from left to right. The elevation of the first shot felt perfect, but I had over-guessed myself, expecting him to take another step in the time it took my bullet to get there.
This time, he had again slowed and was reaching a point where I fully expected him to look back for the does. And this time, I would not be in front of him. He was now walking with me following him in the crosshairs. As soon as he started to turn his head (my sign of a buck that is about to stop) the second round was on its way.
Even with the slight recoil of the 7mm-.08, I saw him collapse in this tracks. I kept on him. He did not even wiggle. The does walked up a bit closer to him, wondering what fate had befallen their Romeo.
And with that, a public land mule deer hunt was coming to a final conclusion. As I skied down into the coulee and climbed up to the sage bench on the other side, I gave a prayer of thanks. Seldom does good fortune come in such heavy doses to turn a buck your direction, then allow you to "go to school" on your first shot and have almost an identical second shot. And seldom does an abbreviated three day filming window allow you to find a buck you instantly find so appealing. Not because of size, as he is only modest to those who really get after big mule deer, but because of the respect and intrigue you feel when you see him doing his thing in these rough mountains and brutal conditions.
A few pics. Great fronts, for sure. And yes, his cape was useless; not from a rifle hit, rather from the recent fighting that took huge clumps of fur and left bleeding gouges across his neck and under his ears, some running six inches long and an inch wide.
Another great result for the Howa Alpine Mountain Rifle. This prototype they sent me has been very impressive so far.
Since Tyler is rather modest, he will probably give me the razz if he finds out I posted a pic with him. But, he is a great guy, very good at capturing the essence of the hunt, and a "backcountry badass" if there ever was one, so I feel compelled to give him a lot of kudos for the work he has done on three episodes with us this year. Thanks, Tyler. Enjoyed the time very much.
This was a limited entry hunt in SW Montana. We have very few limited entry units. Felt lucky to draw a tag with so few points. And, until the first morning of this hunt, I had never stepped foot in the unit; heck, had not even driven past in my 23 years of living in Montana.
Saw this buck yesterday afternoon. Had to let him go, due to his crazy doe-searching travels up and down the ridges, finally disappearing in some timber and not emerging by the time I wanted to start hunting my way out the drainage and back toward the rig. I resolved if the chance came the following day, I would be shooting.
This morning, we went in below and glassed the high ridges above. It took a while, but by about 8:00am, he was again darting through the scrub fir, looking for hot does. We headed to the end of the motorized area, parked the truck, and started hoofing it into the non-motorized area this guy was so fond of.
In short order, he was spotted about 600 yards above, checking a group that had ten does. We got to within 350 yards when he gave a quick broadside shot. It felt rushed and not what I was hoping for, so I held off, watching him turn and walk straight away and melt into the darkness of timber. Dang it!
We then hiked up a small ridge to a knob that gave us a great view of everything out in front. We were rather exposed to the wind and to any deer that might come in behind, but it was the best spot for relocating this buck.
Over the course of the next two hours, doe after doe was glassed. The place was filled with more 3.5 and 4.5 year-old forkies of any place I have ever seen. Big bodied deer, pushing does and running off smaller three and four-point bucks. Not sure how many big forkies we saw, but suffice to say it was plenty.
Around 10:30 am, Tyler (camera guy) spotted a couple deer on the ridge forming the far south rim of the basin. I was glassing the other direction, waiting for a buck to come and check a group of seven does bedded in the open. When Tyler yelled, "Two bucks fighting" and he scrambled for his camera gear, I turned just in time to see two bucks tearing each other apart and then sliding down the rocks into the dark timber below them. Even at 1,000 yards, one of them looked like the buck I was chasing.
Eventually, a smaller buck emerged and bedded with the prize doe. He was sporting a freshly busted G3 and G4, if he was the other four point we had been watching earlier and not too far away from the battle ground. No sign of what I thought was the bigger buck we were chasing.
Another two hours of boredom was occasionally interrupted by new does making themselves visible and smaller bucks cruising the ridges in the basin, often times coming really close. I had the spotter on a buck on the top ridge way above us, trying to see if he was the dude we had been chasing, when Tyler came hustling to my position to tell me that a buck had emerged across from us and look to be the buck from last night. I moved my spotter to that side of the knoll and sure enough, there he was.
We were NE of his position and he was headed NW. Not good. If he kept going on the ridge and into the next basin, the odds of finding him today would disappear. Big country and hard to follow deer in this kind of terrain. They are more adept at navigating such, especially in a foot of snow, than most hunters; or at least this hunter.
Then, the biggest stroke of luck of the entire hunting season rolled our way. Seeing the does bedded below, us, the buck did a hard right, taking him down a small spine ridge that terminated in the steep draw below us. I ranged him - 600, then 525, then he disappeared into some trees. He emerged at 460.
Tyler and I agreed, we needed to drop down (more like skiing in Kenentreks) and be in position when/if this buck got within shooting range. Given the wind was straight in our face, I felt it was our best option.
We were temporarily stalled by a doe standing from her bed. She bounded down the hill toward when the buck was headed. When we got through this patch of maybe a dozen trees, the buck was gone. Vanished. WTH?
Our only option was to continue dropping down and hope we could find him in the cut right below us. We moved slightly to our left, then down. I was glassing frantically across the coulee to the scattered trees I had last seen him at maybe 350 yards. He had to be there, even if I wasn't seeing him.
I kept scouring. I knew he was there. The buck had disappeared at almost our same elevation. The timber was not that thick. He must be behind at tree.
I pressed the binos tighter to my eyes, straining to see an antler, an ear, something. As I scoured, Tyler whispered loudly, 'There he is, right underneath us." I dropped the binos and right below, at less than 150 yards, the buck came storming out of the bottom of the canyon, two does right on his tail.
We now had to move down and further left, hoping they crossed the toe of this ridge down and across from us. They did. The buck stopped on the edge of a clump of trees, somewhat obscured. The does stood broadside in the wide open snow, looking up and across to see what these orange-vested objects were up to. Range - 185 yards.
I tried to ready a shot on the buck, just as he dropped into a small depression marked by a thick stand of trees maybe 50 yards wide. I told Tyler if he came up the other side, I would be on him and try to take him. I had no more than ranged a tree at the top of that big opening to be 350, when the buck started making his way out of the timber and into the snow-covered sage across from us.
I followed him with the scope as he moved almost straight away and gaining elevation. He was slowing and I suspected he would look back at his does. As he started to turn his head back our direction, I had the cross hairs right in front of him. Expecting him to take one final step into the bullet's path, I squeezed, only to send a bullet a couple inches in front of his chest. A few expletives were provided.
He hung a hard right and was now moving straight across from left to right. The elevation of the first shot felt perfect, but I had over-guessed myself, expecting him to take another step in the time it took my bullet to get there.
This time, he had again slowed and was reaching a point where I fully expected him to look back for the does. And this time, I would not be in front of him. He was now walking with me following him in the crosshairs. As soon as he started to turn his head (my sign of a buck that is about to stop) the second round was on its way.
Even with the slight recoil of the 7mm-.08, I saw him collapse in this tracks. I kept on him. He did not even wiggle. The does walked up a bit closer to him, wondering what fate had befallen their Romeo.
And with that, a public land mule deer hunt was coming to a final conclusion. As I skied down into the coulee and climbed up to the sage bench on the other side, I gave a prayer of thanks. Seldom does good fortune come in such heavy doses to turn a buck your direction, then allow you to "go to school" on your first shot and have almost an identical second shot. And seldom does an abbreviated three day filming window allow you to find a buck you instantly find so appealing. Not because of size, as he is only modest to those who really get after big mule deer, but because of the respect and intrigue you feel when you see him doing his thing in these rough mountains and brutal conditions.
A few pics. Great fronts, for sure. And yes, his cape was useless; not from a rifle hit, rather from the recent fighting that took huge clumps of fur and left bleeding gouges across his neck and under his ears, some running six inches long and an inch wide.
Another great result for the Howa Alpine Mountain Rifle. This prototype they sent me has been very impressive so far.
Since Tyler is rather modest, he will probably give me the razz if he finds out I posted a pic with him. But, he is a great guy, very good at capturing the essence of the hunt, and a "backcountry badass" if there ever was one, so I feel compelled to give him a lot of kudos for the work he has done on three episodes with us this year. Thanks, Tyler. Enjoyed the time very much.
