Brentc
Well-known member
- Joined
- Mar 14, 2019
- Messages
- 215
Being a member of the Army for 20 years has allowed me to take advantage of hunting multiple states. My latest assignment placed me right on the edge of Texas, Mexico, and New Mexico in sunny Fort Bliss in the heart of El Paso, Texas. I wasted no time finding a place to shoot regularly and contacting the wildlife biologist in the area to learn about hunting opportunities. With the help of some great new friends in my neighborhood, I soon learned about how the New Mexico big game draw works so I developed a strategy and I submitted my applications. I ended up drawing three New Mexico tags. I drew tags for Mule Deer, Barbary Sheep, and Oryx.
Occurring in mid to late December, the mule deer hunt is a two day opportunity to hunt mule deer in the rut if you obtain the tag. Knowing this, I was excited to locate some bucks and figure out where the does were. I recruited the help of friends and family to scout and hunt alongside me on opening day. My team consisted of good friends, Tony, Neil, and my brother Mike who flew down from Utah to help me find a mature buck on opening day.
On our first scouting trip we stumbled into a group of five bucks running with a few does in a somewhat unlikely place. One of the bucks was a large bodied, big racked typical four point buck that I commonly dream about. This buck’s typical frame spanned nearly 30” wide with mass for days. It was evident that he was the king of the castle and he knew it. I came away from that scouting trip with a permanent smile and an indescribable joy that overcame every other feeling when I envisioned the upcoming hunt. I knew that stumbling into such a buck on public land was a rare occurrence and it only made the coming six weeks feel like an eternity.
I spent the next few weeks pouring over maps and making special scouting trips in an attempt to locate the buck again. Each trip brought something new to light. Along with more sightings of my target buck, I saw several 3 and 4 year old bucks beginning pre rut activity. One trend I noticed while scouting was that I was seeing more bucks than does. On the surface, it sounds like a good problem to have since my tag allowed me to kill a fork antlered buck and I was seeing a LOT of fork antlered bucks. However, knowing that the rut is coming fast, not seeing the does is a problem. The bachelor herds I had watched throughout the previous weeks suddenly broke apart as the bucks started getting the itch to breed. The scattering of the bucks presented another problem because I knew that all of the bucks I attempted to pin down throughout the previous weeks could easily travel miles at any time chasing a hot doe across the country side.
While recounting and reviewing the products of my scouting efforts, I amassed an impressive hit list of mature bucks that if I was presented an opportunity to kill, I would probably take it. I knew what I wanted. The buck at the top of my hit list was certainly impressive, but having only two days to hunt created an unusual pressure.
As the rut intensified and the buck population shuffled, I hadn’t seen my target buck in seven days. I did, however, locate several new mature bucks with does three days prior to opening day. I remained hopeful that my target buck hadn’t vacated the area, but the reality of not seeing him during the hunt crept in. Despite not seeing my target buck in the days leading up to the hunt, the excitement of opening day was intense enough to keep me awake with visions of possibilities.
The opening day of the hunt was a beautiful clear morning with a fresh dusting of frost across the cactus laden hills. I spotted the first young buck cresting the hillside into a nearby canyon the moment we pulled into my hunting area. He was a yearling two point with a group of six does. Knowing there was a good chance a mature buck was somewhere in the group, we located the does, followed their movements, and watched intently to see if a mature buck would appear. It never happened.
After several minutes of scanning and glassing I turned up several young bucks sparring on distant hillsides and drainages. None of which were bucks that interested me. I really wanted to kill a 4+ year old buck and I knew there were several in the area. There was one buck that tempted me. He was a young three point that was wider than his ears with long G2 points and deep front forks, but since it was the first morning I decided to let him walk. That decision haunted me for several hours as I glassed hillsides and canyons only turning up young bucks and does without a suitor.
I was perplexed throughout most of the afternoon. The bucks I had seen at all hours of the day throughout the previous months were nowhere to be found. Nonetheless, I continued to scan through the mesquite trees and pick apart cactus patches with no apparent sign of the mature bucks I was looking for.
While walking back to my truck late in the afternoon, I thought about the next day’s strategy. I vacillated between two options. I have one day left. Do I take a gamble and try a different area knowing that rutting bucks could be anywhere? Or, do I stay where I have applied most of my scouting efforts and routinely turned up bucks at all times of different days? I leaned heavily towards option two, but the first day of hunting lacked inspiration.
The sun began to set on day 1 and the hopeful spirit that engulfed every fiber of my body that morning had dissipated. However, I remained positive knowing that the rut is on and anything can happen at any time. Plus, I still have a half of an hour of prime evening hunting time.
As I made my way out of the canyon with my rifle close by my side, my brother Mike caught movement from the corner of his eye. “There’s a deer, and it’s a buck!” he exclaimed. Sure enough, it was a mature buck chasing a hot doe from out of the cover of one of the finger canyons that I commonly see deer travel through. I hastily loaded my rifle and hustled to reasonably flat surface free of obstructions to establish a prone shooting position 113 yards from the rutting buck. Not knowing which buck I was looking at, and honestly not caring, I assumed it was either the large fork antlered buck I saw rutting does in the same canyon a few days earlier, or it was the long tined 3 point I regretted passing on most of the day. Nonetheless, the mounting pressure of not filling my tag convinced me to take the mature buck that was in my field of view. I established a solid prone position, extended my bipod, and verified that I had a legal buck in my scope. I waited a moment for the buck to present a favorable shot angle, settled the reticle behind his shoulder and sent a 215 grain Berger Hybrid through his vitals. He dropped dead at the shot as his doe disappeared out of sight. I remember shouting to my hunting partners “What the heck just happened!? You have to be kidding me!” The four of us approached the downed buck with anticipation. All of us expected to see the two or three point from earlier, but I was astonished to see that the buck laying on the ground was a 7 year old typical four point with 4-5” bladed eye guards that carried great mass out to his antler tips. I had seen no less than two dozen bucks in this area up to this point, but never this one.
We spent the next two hours recounting the events of the day, taking pictures, and quartering the buck. All of us questioned where this buck came from. We spent an entire day combing hillsides and looking through and around every piece of cactus and mesquite without a single sighting of this rutted up buck. Nonetheless, I was presented a fantastic opportunity to kill a great buck in the waning minutes of shooting light so I capitalized. This buck is my oldest mule deer to date and although he won’t break any records, getting an opportunity to kill a 7 year old buck like this was a thrill that doesn’t come along often and I can’t wait to do it again next year.
Occurring in mid to late December, the mule deer hunt is a two day opportunity to hunt mule deer in the rut if you obtain the tag. Knowing this, I was excited to locate some bucks and figure out where the does were. I recruited the help of friends and family to scout and hunt alongside me on opening day. My team consisted of good friends, Tony, Neil, and my brother Mike who flew down from Utah to help me find a mature buck on opening day.
On our first scouting trip we stumbled into a group of five bucks running with a few does in a somewhat unlikely place. One of the bucks was a large bodied, big racked typical four point buck that I commonly dream about. This buck’s typical frame spanned nearly 30” wide with mass for days. It was evident that he was the king of the castle and he knew it. I came away from that scouting trip with a permanent smile and an indescribable joy that overcame every other feeling when I envisioned the upcoming hunt. I knew that stumbling into such a buck on public land was a rare occurrence and it only made the coming six weeks feel like an eternity.
I spent the next few weeks pouring over maps and making special scouting trips in an attempt to locate the buck again. Each trip brought something new to light. Along with more sightings of my target buck, I saw several 3 and 4 year old bucks beginning pre rut activity. One trend I noticed while scouting was that I was seeing more bucks than does. On the surface, it sounds like a good problem to have since my tag allowed me to kill a fork antlered buck and I was seeing a LOT of fork antlered bucks. However, knowing that the rut is coming fast, not seeing the does is a problem. The bachelor herds I had watched throughout the previous weeks suddenly broke apart as the bucks started getting the itch to breed. The scattering of the bucks presented another problem because I knew that all of the bucks I attempted to pin down throughout the previous weeks could easily travel miles at any time chasing a hot doe across the country side.
While recounting and reviewing the products of my scouting efforts, I amassed an impressive hit list of mature bucks that if I was presented an opportunity to kill, I would probably take it. I knew what I wanted. The buck at the top of my hit list was certainly impressive, but having only two days to hunt created an unusual pressure.
As the rut intensified and the buck population shuffled, I hadn’t seen my target buck in seven days. I did, however, locate several new mature bucks with does three days prior to opening day. I remained hopeful that my target buck hadn’t vacated the area, but the reality of not seeing him during the hunt crept in. Despite not seeing my target buck in the days leading up to the hunt, the excitement of opening day was intense enough to keep me awake with visions of possibilities.
The opening day of the hunt was a beautiful clear morning with a fresh dusting of frost across the cactus laden hills. I spotted the first young buck cresting the hillside into a nearby canyon the moment we pulled into my hunting area. He was a yearling two point with a group of six does. Knowing there was a good chance a mature buck was somewhere in the group, we located the does, followed their movements, and watched intently to see if a mature buck would appear. It never happened.
After several minutes of scanning and glassing I turned up several young bucks sparring on distant hillsides and drainages. None of which were bucks that interested me. I really wanted to kill a 4+ year old buck and I knew there were several in the area. There was one buck that tempted me. He was a young three point that was wider than his ears with long G2 points and deep front forks, but since it was the first morning I decided to let him walk. That decision haunted me for several hours as I glassed hillsides and canyons only turning up young bucks and does without a suitor.
I was perplexed throughout most of the afternoon. The bucks I had seen at all hours of the day throughout the previous months were nowhere to be found. Nonetheless, I continued to scan through the mesquite trees and pick apart cactus patches with no apparent sign of the mature bucks I was looking for.
While walking back to my truck late in the afternoon, I thought about the next day’s strategy. I vacillated between two options. I have one day left. Do I take a gamble and try a different area knowing that rutting bucks could be anywhere? Or, do I stay where I have applied most of my scouting efforts and routinely turned up bucks at all times of different days? I leaned heavily towards option two, but the first day of hunting lacked inspiration.
The sun began to set on day 1 and the hopeful spirit that engulfed every fiber of my body that morning had dissipated. However, I remained positive knowing that the rut is on and anything can happen at any time. Plus, I still have a half of an hour of prime evening hunting time.
As I made my way out of the canyon with my rifle close by my side, my brother Mike caught movement from the corner of his eye. “There’s a deer, and it’s a buck!” he exclaimed. Sure enough, it was a mature buck chasing a hot doe from out of the cover of one of the finger canyons that I commonly see deer travel through. I hastily loaded my rifle and hustled to reasonably flat surface free of obstructions to establish a prone shooting position 113 yards from the rutting buck. Not knowing which buck I was looking at, and honestly not caring, I assumed it was either the large fork antlered buck I saw rutting does in the same canyon a few days earlier, or it was the long tined 3 point I regretted passing on most of the day. Nonetheless, the mounting pressure of not filling my tag convinced me to take the mature buck that was in my field of view. I established a solid prone position, extended my bipod, and verified that I had a legal buck in my scope. I waited a moment for the buck to present a favorable shot angle, settled the reticle behind his shoulder and sent a 215 grain Berger Hybrid through his vitals. He dropped dead at the shot as his doe disappeared out of sight. I remember shouting to my hunting partners “What the heck just happened!? You have to be kidding me!” The four of us approached the downed buck with anticipation. All of us expected to see the two or three point from earlier, but I was astonished to see that the buck laying on the ground was a 7 year old typical four point with 4-5” bladed eye guards that carried great mass out to his antler tips. I had seen no less than two dozen bucks in this area up to this point, but never this one.
We spent the next two hours recounting the events of the day, taking pictures, and quartering the buck. All of us questioned where this buck came from. We spent an entire day combing hillsides and looking through and around every piece of cactus and mesquite without a single sighting of this rutted up buck. Nonetheless, I was presented a fantastic opportunity to kill a great buck in the waning minutes of shooting light so I capitalized. This buck is my oldest mule deer to date and although he won’t break any records, getting an opportunity to kill a 7 year old buck like this was a thrill that doesn’t come along often and I can’t wait to do it again next year.
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