Wyoming knows how to manage mule deer

Big Fin

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I’m at home today, resting for two days in between the last trips and the next trips. Thought I would craft a few lines of a Wyoming deer hunt that we wrapped up this week.

This hunt is a migration hunt. Takes max points in both the special and regular draw. Is surely weather-dependent, but a ton of fun, no matter the weather.

I’ve had my share of “Glory Tags” over the years. This was probably the most relaxing and enjoyable high-demand hunt I have ever had. Lots of locals out on the landscape watching, videoing, and photographing the migrating deer. Many of them are prior tag holders who just like to come out and see the deer. Some are out scouting for the year that they might get the tag.

I was in New Mexico for my Uncle Mike’s elk hunt the week season opened, allowing us the last week of season to hunt this Wyoming deer tag. According to those who were there the opening week, we didn’t miss much by coming toward the end of season.

It is an easy hunt to E-scout for. Tons of information about the migrating deer exists, thanks to the Wyoming Migration Initiative that is operated out of the University of Wyoming. I spent much of the summer reading the migration data that is being collected for mule deer, antelope, elk, bighorn sheep, and moose. It is some of the most compelling scientific information I have ever read.

This is a shameless plug, but if you have not done so already, I suggest you follow the Wyoming Migration Initiative on their website or social media channels. The information they are gathering and the tools they are using for such, are going to have big impacts on how this type of research is done in other herds, in other states. Links below:


Website - https://migrationinitiative.org/


Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/migrationinitiative/


YouTube - https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC-1qijz4SUdhdv3_ucXwQEQ


The biologist and game warden had both stated that the deer numbers are down significantly from the peak prior to the hard winter of 2016-17, complicated by an extended winter on the winter ranges in the spring of 2019. Tags have been cranked down in response to those fluctuating herd dynamics. They were great guys with lots of good information.

When these deer migrate, they come through some pretty narrow corridors, putting the few tagholders in close proximity of each other. That is not a big issue, as there is plenty of ground to find some space and glass for deer that are passing through.

I was surprised how many locals stopped and visited with us upon seeing the Red Titan. They were all great people, all helpful, and all enjoyable to visit with. Visiting with them did break the monotony when the deer were absent.

The first day we arrived, we had a short period before dark to get a lay of the land for the next five days. The first glassing knob I pulled up to had a group of guys a few hundred yards below guttin’ and gillin’ a deer. I could see it was wide when I looked through the binos, so I couldn’t resist walking down to have a peak. They were a group from Utah and the tagholder had shot a great 3x3, 31” wide, heavy, and some “coat hook” stickers coming off the tall G2. I would have shot that buck the first minute of the hunt; it was just that cool.

They asked where the camera crew was. I told them I had the crew stay at the truck, as I didn’t want to impose on their situation with a bunch of cameras in their face. They waived the camera crew down to the kill site and we had a great conversation about how it unfolded and what a great buck it was.

It was exciting to see such a cool buck get taken, knowing I had five days to look for something with the same appeal. That night at the motel was a bit restless, as my mind tried to conjure what bucks might show up in the morning.

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The first morning had us on the ridges glassing for deer that might have moved through in advance of the approaching snow and cold. Not much was there. A lot of driving around and learning the roads and where the other hunters were focused.

The highlight of the morning was a very heavy 3x4 that seemed to allocate most his antler growth to mass, rather than width or tine length. His pre-rut body condition was impressive, when compared to the does he was standing near. He was in no danger from me; not on the first day or the last day. Was fun to watch him walk around.

From most glassing knobs a few does would be found. Most every day we encountered at least one collared doe. Didn’t see any collared bucks. Seeing these collared does brought my mind back to the migration studies and how much value those collared does were providing to conservation of this herd, and to mule deer knowledge in general.

Seeing collars also got my mind wondering how these animals made it through these long migrations littered with barriers, subject to dangers, along an eon-traveled route now altered significantly human-made “progress.” The fact that this herd exists is a testament to the leadership of WY G&F, advocacy from locals who are committed to conserving this herd and their migration corridor, and the work of many non-profit groups who know the value this herd represents for Wyoming. A lot is being done to help these deer cope with the demands our society places on this landscape for resources we all need and use. I suspect most who benefit from these landscape resources have no opportunity to witness the costs imposed on wildlife when our collective demands expect uninterruptable supplies at the lowest possible cost. I was thankful to be here witnessing this migration, serving as another reminder of how my existence contributes in some way to the impacts imposed on the wild things on these once-wild landscapes.

While parked and glassing, we had three remarkable encounters with people who recognized our rig and stopped to visit with us. One guy had heard we were out there hunting and had bought a big bag of peanut butter M&Ms, knowing I have a tendency to nibble on those in great numbers. Thanks to him and he shall remain unnamed.

Another resident, JC and his wife, were looking for something that would top the buck he shot here in 2017. Remarkably, he drew the tag twice in three years. He had been here a week and had some nice bucks taken via phone scope, all of which he let pass. For being a tagholder, he was very liberal with information about the deer habits here.

Last was a rig with two guys from Rock Springs, Austin and Ty, who come here every year to watch the migration and take pictures and video of deer. Austin and his brother had tags a few years back, both shooting great bucks, resulting in him getting addicted to this area when the deer start to migrate through.

By the end of the day, I suspect we had met at least half of the remaining tagholders, Jeremiah, Ralph, and Braden. All nice guys who provided enjoyable conversation.

The rest of the day was bouncing along the rough roads that traversed these boulder-strewn foothills. Glassing the sage and coulees, hoping the next white butt would have large antlers attached. The result was mostly does and small bucks, with one heavy 3-pointer that wanted to be a video star. He stood around in a way that in most units would have been a bad decision for his longevity. He was only about 22” wide, but had great mass, a common feature among the older bucks we saw.

With the forecast of terrible weather to come, I was getting pretty excited for what the morning might hold. Off to the motel. Yeah, a motel. I’m getting soft. With the forecast of below zero windchills and 20-35mph winds, I’ve started taking the easy route when the weather reports predict such discomfort. With over 40 days in tents already this season and my upcoming 55th birthday telling my body I need more/better sleep, if I do motels the rest of my life, I will offer no apologies.
 
The second full day of hunting had us back at the glassing location that allowed us to see in many different directions. While waiting for the sun to rise, Ralph, the final non-resident tagholder, and his buddy from Laramie were approaching when a good buck crossed the road in their headlights. They drove past, did a U-turn, then backtracked to where their lights first had appeared. In the headlights, that looked like a dandy buck, so they must have seen something really good to just drive off without a second inspection when first light might allow.

Within a half hour, there was enough light to see objects contrasting against the three inches of new snow. I quickly found that buck down in a coulee about 1,000 yards off. He was a good one, or at least it seemed to me in this low light. He had been joined by another four-point, looking to be a couple years younger than him, based on comparative body size.

As the light got better, the spotter was dialed up to highest power. He was a good buck. Great mass, about 25” wide, but with front forks shorter than what bucks here are known to have. In another other deer tag I’ve ever had, except for my 2007 AZ Strip tag, this buck was going to be in danger. He was fun to watch.

It was remarkable to see him use the landscape in ways that added to his life expectancy. Above him was one of the resident hunters, Jeremiah. I thought for sure the buck would end up walking right to him. Nope. At the last minute, he found a cut in this seemingly flat landscape, putting him completely out of sight of Jeremiah. The buck used that cut to cover about six hundred yards, then emerging out on a big flat of rocks and sage, continuing his route to the final wintering destination.

It is remarkable to watch animals use some sixth sense that allows them to escape. The bigger buck shagged the younger buck who was more interested in does than getting to the winter range. How he knew to do that, is remarkable. I suspect if he had continued to be visible, one of the tagholders would have taken him. His dark black tines and thick rack sure made me second guessing my decision.

A local, Luke, came by to see what I was looking at in my spotter. When I showed it to him in the spotter, he asked if I was going after the buck. I told him that with four more days, I was going to pass, probably with some regret. Hearing that, he proclaimed this was a good buck when considering the recent winter kills. He commenced to chaining up his 1978 Chevy and was soon on his way to find that buck.

A few more small bucks were spotted, along with strings of does. The wind was chucking. If I was a deer, I would be bedded down in the rocks and sage, waiting for the wind to die. Of the groups we found while driving these boulder piles, most of them seemed to agree with my idea. They were bedded tight in the lee side of the coulees.

It is a pain to glass in strong winds. No matter how you try, the wind shakes your tripod. It requires you get to the exposed slopes and glass into the wind, as that allows you to look across to the wind-protected slopes the deer use for shelter. Even though the temps were in the teens, that winds brought the windchills to a level of serious discomfort. Wind would blow tears to the corners of my eyes. My nose and cheeks, victims of prior frostbite, were tingling, causing me to retreat to the truck after about a fifteen minute session.

Windburned and hungry, we headed to a new motel that evening, one closer to the hunting area. With the forecast for serious weather that night, followed by clear and cold skies the next day, I kept my fingers crossed that some good bucks would come into this area during the night. Hunting migrating animals does involve some hopes and prayers for good animal movement. Having some of these tags in the past, none of which worked out, I understand being at the mercy of weather and migratory instincts.
 
The third full day of hunting found another hunter in the glassing spot we had been at the prior two mornings. No biggie. We continued up the road, gaining elevation to a high ridge that gave a great glimpse across the width of this migration corridor.

As light came, it confirmed what the lack of tracks in the new wind-blown snow had warned. Hardly any deer to be seen. The landscape was adorned in a few inches of new snow, bringing the total to probably six inches on the level. Local lore bragged such conditions to be ideal for this tag. Based on the emptiness of this windy morning, with temps at -14F, one would have to argue that premise.

Though we could see most of the ridges in this corridor, the wind seemed to have deer down in the bottoms. Restlessness prevailed and I eventually succumbed to the idea of covering more country and looking into the coulee bottoms. Four hours of that provided little reward.

We bumped into Austin and Ty again. They were out taking advantage of their unique work schedule, looking for deer that they could photo and post on their Instagram page, Kretta Hunting. Their results were about what ours were.

We pulled into our normal morning glassing location. A lot of does were using the slope to hide from the wind. Among them were three bucks, all looking to be younger bucks. A very tall 3x3 with a hooping G2/G3 fork that will make him a very cook buck in a couple years. Just not the mass of an older buck, but given his advances toward the does, surely had the belief that he could compete with the older bucks.

Also was a nice clean 4x4 that looked to be the same age as the 3x3. Similar mass, about 24” wide, and quite tall. Another buck that will benefit from two more years, at which time I suspect he will be close to his full potential.

The most aggressive was a 5x4 that was probably the same age of the other two, though even less mass, about 24” wide, and not nearly the tine length of his two fellow travelers. He was very close to the main road. We watched them for about an hour until they all bedded among the does.

Nearing half-time of this hunt, I decided to go searching again. More rough miles on the truck, with a few snow covered boulders giving me reason to appreciate skid plates on the Titan. The wind was starting to die as the temps dropped, eventually getting more deer up on their feet. Yet, nothing that caused me to shoulder my pack and make a stalk. On this route, we ran into Braden, another local tagholder. He had made some of the same rockpile loops we had, with the same result. He was a fun guy to visit with.

The big loop eventually took us back to the spotting location where we had left the three bucks a couple hours earlier. Now, Jeremiah and the local Game Warden were parked along the road glassing the place we had last seen the bucks bedded. As we rolled up, we could see two trucks parked underneath that bedding location, with a hunter moving toward the rocks where the 5x4 had been bedded.

As I shuffled through my pack to find my license, the Game Warden told me he heard a shot. After checking my information, he shared some intel about the deer habits, encouraging to stick out it out to the bitter end, then stated duty required that he go talk to the hunter who had just shot. We watched the field dressing through the spotter and could confirm it was the younger 5x4. The hunter had a toddler with him when we had seen him driving around earlier that day, so I suspect this buck would be a big treat for the youngster who had joined him on this hunt.

Near dark, we moved north to the unit boundary, hoping to see what deer might be staging to cross that night. Lots of does and young bucks. Nothing that was going to cause me lost sleep that night. The temps were again below zero as the sun disappeared. The wind was at least dying down, giving hope that tomorrow would be tolerable.

Austin and Ty stopped us to ask what we had seen that day. It mirrored their reports; a few young bucks mixed in with groups of does. Austin all but apologized that the hunt was so much tougher than when he and his brother had the tag. I comforted him that I was having a blast and that hunting experience had taught me that this is always a possible outcome on supposed Glory Tags. The excitement of knowing the next deer spotted might be a lunker was enough to keep me going.

Before parting ways, Ty asked me to do a video for his wife, Keisha. I get asked to do a lot of things related to pictures and videos, so I gladly obliged. That is one of the fun parts of what we do; meeting people who are excited about the content we produce.

Ty asked if they could bring us anything from town. I told him of my disappointment that Jerry’s Doughnuts in Rawlins had closed this summer. I inquired of the lack of Hostess Donettes in this part of Wyoming. He and Austin looked at each other with a peculiar expression when I used the term Donettes. Seemed that is not nearly as common of hunting snack in Wyoming as it is in Colorado and to some degree, in Montana. I told him, that other than morning snacks, I thought we were in good shape. I offered to pay a premium for a bag of powdered sugar Donettes, if they came out the next day.

With only two days left, the drive to the motel had me thinking about my decision to pass the nice buck that had crossed in the headlights the morning of Day two. I rationalized it by the fact it allowed me to hunt more days and spend time doing something I really enjoy; watching mule deer.

At the restaurant that night, Ralph, the hunter from Florida, told us that Jeremiah had shot a buck just before dark. Jeremiah had been at it for almost ten days and he told Ralph that time away from work and family required that he get home. We didn’t see the buck, though with the number of blood marks from deer being skidded down to roads, it appeared that the number of tagholders remaining for the last two days was diminishing at a good clip.

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Morning of Day 4 was very crisp. Thank goodness for no wind. We were back up on the same high ridge from the morning before. Ralph and his buddy were up on a ridge a few miles to our west. Braden was bouncing at a snail’s pace across one of the big boulder flats. Seemed that not many hunters remained.

Eventually Austin and Ty drove up to our location. Joining them today was Ty’s wife, Keisha. They two big boxes of doughnuts from Cowboy Doughnuts in Rock Springs. They also had three bags of Hostess Donettes; one for me and each of the crew.

What a great gift. Momentum was about to change. I offered to pay, but they would have no part of it. I instantly laid claim to anything with maple frosting, warning the camera guys that their employment status hinged on those maple-draped treats being conserved for timely consumption throughout the day. They were entitled to any of the others.

Following some laughs and coffee, Austin and Ty headed out to glass the boundary areas. All we had for an hour of glassing was the tall hoop-shaped 3x3 from yesterday. Plenty of does and some small forkies. Not much happening. Time was ticking. Time to move.

As we pulled out to check the big drainage below us, JC and his wife pulled up with a picture of the buck he had shot the night before. He said that after he talked to us, he went out to a point that overlooked where all the does were feeding in the wind-protected bottom. He said bucks were moving in and out of the group of does, with a very good buck moving in just before dark. From the picture, it looked like a nice buck.

We moved down into the bottom of this long draw we could not see from our higher glassing location. Around the first corner was a heavy 3x4 horning some sage. He had us distracted from what was a much better buck across the two-track and up the other face a mere hundred yards.

Now, that is a good buck. Excellent frame, nice back forks, dark stained, and fully distracted by two does. He looked to be a four year-old. Just not the mass I was hoping for. A clean symmetrical buck that was easily a “shoot on sight” buck on most other tags. Glassing and filming him, it was hard to not reach for the pack and rifle. Something just didn’t feel right, considering I had the rest of today and tomorrow remaining.

He was a very nice buck, maybe younger, but equally impressive as the buck that had crossed in the headlights on Day two. Yet, shooting him from a position that only required me to move ten yards off this old two-track just seemed weird. Michael and Jonathan, the camera guys on this hunt, gave me the “It’s your tag, but I think you’re nuts to pass” look. I told them to keep rolling as the buck worked his does up the ridge while fending off this smaller suitor.

We left and drove over to where Austin and Ty were. They had seen those two bucks and asked what we thought. I told them he was close, so close, but still not the mass I had hoped to find. Given what I had heard of bucks here exhibiting great mass as they aged, I think a buck with above average mass was what it would take for me to pull the trigger and why the buck from Day two was so interesting.

The next two hours were more miles, park, walk to the point, and glass. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Just more does. And more does.

Eventually the path led us back to the high vantage point above where we had left the tall 3x3 and the two nice bucks from this morning seemed headed. On cue, the 3x3 walked out of some denuded aspens and bedded in the rocks below us. Shortly, the 4x3 from earlier came pushing a doe below us. I wondered what I would do if the really nice 4x4 I had passed a few hours earlier were to come down the same path. It gave for some good discussion between me and the crew.

Eventually Ralph and his friend pulled up. They had not seen much. I told them of the buck I had passed this morning. The crew showed them some phone scope footage. Ralph said he would probably shoot that buck. I told him to stand by, as the 3x4 was in my spotter and the 4x4 was likely to come through in a short while.

We waited for an hour or so, but the 4x4 never showed. I suspect he was bedded in one of the small cuts between our location and where we had left him this morning. I showed Ralph the 3x4 and the tall 3x3 that were below us. He was mostly interested in the 4x4. I explained that we had left him only 600 yards below the lip, to our north. They decided to go around the other side and see if they could relocate him.

From what I gathered, only Ralph, Braden, and I were the remaining tagholders. Some more locals were would driving around, looking at the deer. A couple elk hunters were hoping weather had pushed some elk to these lower foothills. We reported that we had seen no elk over the course of our many miles of travel and hours of glassing.

By mid-day Austin, Ty, and Keisha found us and told us they had not seen much other than two bucks with a group of does, far off in the distance, out in the rock piles. I told them we had been all over that place the last few days and all the bucks we saw were 2-3 years old.

I told them we would be here for another hour or so, then I would decide what to do for the last couple hours of the day. They headed off the hill and we watched as they disappeared down into a draw in the general direction where they had seen the two bucks from afar. They didn’t come out the other side. Given we had nothing going on, I decided to go out and see what they might have found.

As I came over a rise, the three of them were standing at a spotter, bucking the brisk west wind. We parked the truck. I grabbed my spotter and tripod and told the guys to follow me. I left my pack and rifle in the truck, mostly wanting some footage of whatever they were looking at. And, hoping to get them on footage, given they seemed less camera shy each time with visited with them.

When I got there, they had a big group of does with two bucks, about a thousand yards out. One buck was just a young 4x4, no danger. The other was bedded to the side of a rock, showing only his head and antlers. It was hard to tell for sure, but when the buck would turn, he looked to be wide, with good forks. He surely had the mass I was looking for.

I asked Michael and Jonathan what they thought. They looked through my spotter and quickly suggested we get closer. I looked at Austin, Ty, and Keisha. They refused to weigh in when asked what they would do.

Given we had yet to stalk a buck and had no stalking footage, I figured if nothing else, it would provide some decent footage. And, if he turned out to be as good as he might be, maybe I would shoot him.

I told my crew to phone scope and film as much as they could, while I hiked back to the truck for my pack and rifle. When I returned, the crew was ready to go. I told Austin, Ty, and Keisha to get ready for some laughs when they see what a cluster it is for us to capture anything on film.

I glassed at least a dozen does between us and the buck. There was very little cover and we would have to cross some low ridge crests needed to keep the wind in our favor. This was very unlikely to work out, given the lack of cover and three of us making the stalk. But, what the heck. It would be some stalking footage.

Before leaving, I told the camera that this was a weird feeling. I had not found the buck, but it seemed like a stalk was the right thing to do. So, we did a video poll that will show up on the YouTube segment. Options:

A) Walk away, given I was not the person who located the buck, and keep looking in hopes I would find something on the last day. Or,​
B) Make a stalk and if it is a buck I like, try to tag him, giving full credit to the locals who had located the buck.​


Not sure what the poll results will be on YouTube, but I would be interested in what the Hunt Talk crowd would do. Feel free to chime in below.

Hmmmm. What to do, what to do?

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Maybe we could see a picture or ten of the buck before weighing in...

This is awesome stuff so far. Mule deer occupy way more than a fair share of my mental space.
 
Awesome write-up, thanks for taking the time to share Randy! Given your time and effort, and especially, your established friendliness with Austin and Ty, stalking the buck seems more than appropriate.
 
Well, I decided on Option B. It was actually an easy option. We finally got Austin, Ty, and Keisha to be part of the video. I told them if this turned out to be a buck I wanted, they had to let us film them and give them credit for finding it. And for the friendship we built over the last four days that included doughnuts from some of Wyoming’s finest ambassadors for welcoming non-resident hunters. They finally agreed.

With that, a plan was made; what I conceived to be the best of the terrible options that existed. It was a plan that would expose us to them for about 200 yards as we tried to drop into the last small coulee we could use for cover. I concluded I would rather try to fool their eyes with the sun at my back while visible for a short distance, than to try stay out of sight and have my wind cone going directly to them.

I told the crew we would make a big circle to our west, keeping the north wind perpendicular to us. Once we got the sun completely at our backs, we would use whatever rocks and sage we could to make a vector northeast to where we would have to cross the low spot in the last ridge between us and them. It was at that point where we would either blow the stalk, or sneak into the coulee bottom and allow us to progress to the big rock pile I estimated to be 250 yards from their position.

I am sure the folks watching from behind thought we were part of a circus. A hunter in the lead, followed by two camera guys, each with a big tripod and two cameras in tow. Me dodging and weaving to stay out of sight from the deer, probably looked as if I was lost or drunk.

Eventually we got to the low spot in the final ridge we would need to cross. I peeked over. I counted sixteen does and the smaller buck. No sight of the bigger buck, though the rock he was bedded next to was mostly out of sight in a small depression. All but one of the deer were feeding into the wind, putting their rumps mostly to us.

As is often the case, one doe was keeping an eye on the rear flank. I stayed up until she eventually turned toward the rest of the herd. I instructed the guys to fall in line, staying in a tight single file group down this exposed slope and into the bottom of the coulee. We were probably five hundred yards off and I could see the herd with my naked eye. Unfortunately, the one sentry doe had again turned and was watching us. We were screwed but had no alternative other than continuing downhill to where the rockpile would out us out of their sight.

We did just that. When we got in the bottom, I pointed to the small rise with the big rocks we would get to. That small rise should put us above, or at least on the level with the deer. I had no idea if the doe had spooked and warned the herd. Or, if she had been blinded by the setting sun.

I continued as if the stalk was still possible. These rocks were about 200 yards away, with a tight cut allowing us to get there without any chance of the deer seeing us. We get just before the crest when I stopped and dropped my pack. The crew went through the checklist of battery condition, audio check, media card capacity, and agreeing who would be wide/tight and which goPro would be the point-of view angle.

This is always a complication; one I try to lessen with guests by telling them to just do what they need to do, and the crew would make it work. When I am the shooter, the crew is more comfortable indulging with more requests in their continual effort for more/better footage. I suspect from afar it looked like we were giving up.

With all boxed checked, I started sneaking to the rocks. I spotted the does on a flat spot 280 yards to my ten O’clock position. No buck in there.

I started scanning back toward where they were first located. The smaller buck was there with four does. They were all looking back toward the rock where the buck had been bedded. There he was, standing broadside and looking at the smaller buck and does.

I pointed him out to the crew. With so many deer strung along this small face, it was hard for them to find the buck in their small viewfinder screens. I ranged it, 210 yards. The buck was still broadside. I was on the Bog Adrenaline shooting sticks, waiting for the OK to shoot. I had still not got a good front view of the buck, but the side view showed the mass and tine length I had been waiting for.

When the crew starts cussing, things are never good. That is a sure sign that things are about to go south. I looked back and Michael was looking through his binos, trying to make sure that he was on the correct deer. Jonathan was struggling with the same.

Eventually, the deer tired of the commotion. The buck started bounding to my left, passing the smaller buck and four does, eventually mixing in with what had become a very large group of does.

Now the rocks were in my way. I had to move. I hated to leave my shooting sticks, but given the height of the rocks, I had one choice, move over to the biggest flat rock that would allow me to be on my knees and upright across the rock.

After our shuffle to the left, Michael was on the buck before I was. 340 yards. The wind was about 15 mph, which according to my drift chart at this distance and this angle of wind, was about 8”. I settled and realized I had to increase my distance above the rock, for fear of the muzzle being too low to clear the slight crown. I grabbed chopper mitts and stacked them under the fore end of the stock. That seemed to be enough.

I came back to the scope and found the buck quartering toward us. Michael gave the command that all was good with him and Jonathan. With my left hand under the palm of the stock and the front of the rifle snug in my mitts, the crosshairs were not moving.

I squeezed my left hand to raise the rear of the rifle just slightly and got a perfect elevation with the CDS dials set at 350. I leaned into the rifle ever so slightly to place the cross hairs at what I thought would be 8” upwind.

Once the final doe disappeared below and behind the buck, I asked if we are still good. Before Michael could finish his affirmative reply, the trigger released the firing pin.

The buck jumped at impact. Deer were scattering in all directions. I racked another round and returned to the scope just in time to see the buck dive into the snow. Michael gave a big shout of excitement; probably the most excited I have seen him in three seasons of filming. He was worried that we had lost our chance due to the cluster that unfolded just a couple minutes earlier. Jonathan, this being his first time filming a stalk, had a big smile and confirmed he got the wide angle.

I looked back at the three folks watching through their spotter. They were raising their hands in celebration. I put up the binos but could not see the buck among the boulders in which he had expired, though we all saw him tip over.

A quick retreat to our packs allowed us to grab the items strewn around by wind and excitement. We headed over to the last location of the buck to find him piled up less than fifty yards from the shot.
 
He was a good buck. He was what I had hoped for. Lots of congratulations among the crew and chatter that recounted the fire drill of the last half hour.

Austin took his truck down a two track that came within a few hundred yards of where the deer had come to rest. The three of them walked over and they were as excited as we were. I gave them all the thanks I could for being here and being so hospitable to people they had only known for a few days.

I was excited for this outcome. I had a blast. With our brutal schedule, I needed a relaxing hunt like this. I met a lot of new people, some of whom will become friends for years to come. It was a great buck that represents so many things. It was a hunt for which the scouting and research taught me so much about mule deer and mule deer science. On the way down to Wyoming and on the way home, I got to spend time with a special young hunter dealing with some physical challenges that help remind me how lucky I am. It had every element I could ask for. In spite of some who commented they felt it was not worth the points invested for their hunt, I would burn my max points any/every time to have a total experience that was this fun.

Yet, I do have some strange conflict about shooting a buck that was not the result of hard work by me or someone in our crew. Just something weird about that, though it does not take from the appreciation I have or the many locals who were so kind and helpful, particularly Austin, Ty, and Keisha. But, it is what it is. I give them full credit for finding that buck and encouraging us to get a closer look.

I am very proud of how the crew handled a very complicated stalk and shot. I was impressed with the rifle, scope, ammo. The impact was exactly where I had hoped, taking out the front driver’s side shoulder joint, with the 180 AccuBond traversing diagonally through the buck, exiting behind the last rib and destroying everything in its path.

Looking at the footage, the shot angle seemed more quartering to me than I recall from my view in the scope. Yet, we all know that “I got this” feeling where when the bullet is sent, we have 100% confidence the target is terminal. I had that feeling. When that feeling comes instincts and thousands of practice rounds take over.

I am impressed with how Wyoming manages mule deer. Our nation seems to have an endless demand for resources from the Wyoming landscape. In spite of those demands, Wyoming G&F does a remarkable job. The locals are heavily vested in positive outcomes for wildlife. Many non-profit groups are funding wildlife research and provide political support that is augmented by motivated individuals. Add all that together and Wyoming is an example other states could learn from when it comes to managing a valuable resource in the face of landscape challenges.

Thanks to Wyoming and the kind locals who made this hunt such a great time. I hope to be back, though it will not be with my tag, given I am now again at the bottom of the non-resident point pile. Someday, when my rifles are retired, I will likely return with a spotter and a smile, witnessing one of the greatest wildlife migrations on our continent.

Some pics that will hopefully suffice.

Good mass and great fronts. Just what I was looking for.
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Another view.
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What my crew calls the Mossback shot. Michael, me, Ty, Keisha, Austin, Jonathan.
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Cold work. Important work.
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