My dad had been scouting big bucks all summer and had seen many nice mule deer. Some of the big bucks he had scouted were 30-plus inch mule deer, and there was one non-typical that looked like a monster buck! Dad had scouted these mule deer all summer long and kept his eye on them all the way until two weeks before the deer season. However, the closer it got to opening day, the less my dad was seeing the big bucks and the day before season, he didn’t see any mule deer at all.
“Beep, Beep, Beep,” the alarm went off and my hunting season had finally arrived! I rolled over to my nightstand, silenced the alarm, and jumped out of bed. To no surprise, my dad was already up and ready, along with my uncle. I grabbed some breakfast and began to get ready. I had to make sure I had all my gear; my gun, knife, camo and, of course, my orange. A few minutes later, I ran out to the truck and we were off.
It took 35 minutes, in the dark, to get to our hunting area. We had decided not to go to Dad’s “honey hole” until later in the hunt. Instead, we chose to go to a more popular area just to see how many deer hunters were out. We immediately started seeing mule deer, but unfortunately, they were only does and small forked-horns. Our first morning out didn't produce the kind of big bucks we were looking for and around noon, as the temperature began to rise, we returned home for some lunch. That afternoon we left the house again around 2 o’clock. When we returned to our hunting area, we decided to let Dad’s “honey hole” wait a while longer. So, we went down the road to see if we could hunt another spot. Everywhere we went there seemed to be deer hunters, so we decided to head north in our unit to get away from the crowds.
When we arrived at this spot, we hiked across a small creek and back into the burnt timber. I just knew we were going to find the big bucks this time. As we snuck around the burnt forest, making our way up drainages and over ridges, we jumped a small bull elk but no mule deer. Before the last of the hunting light faded, we went back to the truck and headed up the road. As we were driving, my uncle and I spotted a big buck up on the hillside. Dad pulled over, quickly glassed the buck, and said that this was a monster buck that we just couldn’t pass. He was heavy, about 26 inches wide, and had big deep forks on both sides. I told my uncle that he should get him because he had never killed anything with horns. So, my uncle went alone on his stalk as dad and I sat back and waited. Several minutes later, a big boom broke the long silence and a shiver was sent through the air. He got him! Dad and I headed over to where we last saw the trophy buck and found my uncle smiling and holding his hand up for a high-five. There was the great buck that we had spotted lying on the ground; a giant seven by seven. My uncle was absolutely thrilled and this was a great trophy mule deer! The excitement in the pick-up on the way home made a perfect ending to a great first day. Later that night my dad put a tape on the monster buck and came up with a green score of 194 inches––truly a great deer for my uncles first.
The next morning, my dad and I got up a little late. We still wanted to save Dad’s “honey hole”, so again, we went to an area that dad knew about and hiked in. We snuck around there for three or four hours looking at sign, glassing, and trying to locate bucks. But as luck would have it, no bucks turned up. Again, for a second day, the temperature began to heat up rapidly so we went home for lunch.
When we returned that afternoon, my two little brothers went with us. Dad had decided to hike back into the “honey hole”. Finally! Dad parked the truck, and after gathering up our gear, we were off. We crossed a creek and hiked into the mouth of a huge drainage. As we entered the drainage, we stopped to take a break. Here, Dad gave his instructions on how we were to hunt the “honey hole”. He decided to climb up a small ridge to our right to peek over into the next drainage where he had watched the bucks go into all summer. We started up the small ridge trying to keep the loose gravel under our feet quiet and carefully stepping over the burnt timber that littered the hillside. We were a few steps behind dad and as he reached the top of the ridge, he froze for a moment before excitedly motioning for me to come quickly. There he was; a nice 30-inch buck! He immediately took off, straight away from us and up the other side of the drainage. Dad and I tried to slow him down by whistling but by no means did he stop. As he slowed to cut across the hillside, there was an opening and I took a shot. The shot sailed about six inches above his back so I quickly chambered another shell and took a hard shot at the running buck. This shot came nowhere close to its mark and that was it……he was gone!
While trying to gather my composure, a frustrated feeling came over me. I knew this might have been my only opportunity at a great monster buck, and I had missed! A few minutes later, we were on the big buck’s tracks but we weren’t finding any signs that he had been hit. We crossed several drainages and as we hit the last hillside, the buck’s tracks ran into some elk tracks and he became difficult to follow. Dad was certain that the buck was not hit and, with light fading, we knew there was no catching up to him. We turned around and followed our path out. With each footstep, the disappointment began to overtake the excitement of the evening. I was feeling down as the second day of the hunt had come to an end. I knew that this would be my last full day to hunt as the weekend was over. I had to return to school and now my hunts would be limited to evenings after school, and that was if my dad’s work schedule allowed it. As we were driving home, the truck was quiet. Dad finally spoke up and explained to me that it’s very common to step on big mule deer. Dad said that the shots that I had taken were rushed and very difficult, even for an experienced hunter. He said, “He would rather have a dime for every one that he missed than a dollar for every one that he had hit because he would be a rich man.” I understood that my dad was trying to ease my frustration and help me to forget the events of the evening’s hunt, but I knew that this monster buck would haunt my dreams tonight.
The next morning I got up and went to school, still feeling frustrated and thinking about the buck that I had missed. I was not able to hunt mule deer the next evening as I had to stay after school, to turn in football gear. This turned out to be even a more frustrating day as we were unable to go out to hunt and I just kept thinking about the one that had gotten away.
The next evening was starting to look better as dad’s work schedule was going to allow us to get out and hunt that evening. Dad called and said he could pick me up as I got off the bus. We could quickly get geared up and head out to hunt. Unfortunately, my luck changed for the worse, as there was a medical problem with another student on the school bus which delayed me in getting home. As I got off the bus and into dad’s pickup, he stated that there would only be an hour and a half left, once we drove over to our unit. So, his plan was to drive out on the forest roads and see what we could see. As we returned home, dad told me that his work schedule would allow him to come home early tomorrow. On top of that, he said that he would be able to get me out of school a little early also.
The next afternoon dad picked me up and, before I knew it, we were headed out on the 35 minute drive to our unit. Dad said we were going back into the “honey hole”. As we were driving, he said that he had a very good feeling that we were going to get one tonight. My stomach filled with butterflies as I had a feeling that dad might have known something that I didn’t, or seen something on his way home. Either way, I had a feeling that there was a surprise waiting for me. He told me that we were going to have to move quickly and quietly up the drainage. This time we were going to go up the drainage where we had jumped the buck three days ago.
In no time, we quickly and quietly began maneuvering through the tangled maze of burnt timber that littered the landscape. It was a good three mile hike and as we started to top out, the hillsides began to become more visible. Dad paused for a moment, pulling up his glasses to look ahead. A few moments later, he quietly whispered that there were two young does up ahead. I looked at them through my binoculars, and I couldn’t draw horns on them either, so we began sneaking around to their left. Suddenly they spotted us and the excitement started to build. Just the sight of these deer and how close we were to them, made it feel like we had stepped into their bedroom. This was the moment that we started to get luck back on our side. The does curiously started walking to us and as we held our position, I could only wonder what was going to happen next. Would the does finally realize what we were and blow out of the country? Or would we be able to slip past them and continue our quest for a buck? They paused about 50 yards from us, discovered that we weren’t more deer, and quietly trotted off.
Just as we were starting to press on, dad suddenly stopped and looked ahead. Seconds later he said, “Kyle, there is a good buck looking at us. He is definitely a buck we should take.” He then told me to rest my gun against the side of a nearby burnt tree to take the shot. As I got my first look at the buck through the scope, he appeared to be just what dad had said. He was facing us, looking in our direction with an intense stare. The silence was broken by dad whispering, “Kyle, I don’t believe this buck is going to give you a broadside shot. Put your crosshairs on the white patch of his neck and squeeze the trigger.” So I steadied my breathing, let out my breath, and squeezed the trigger……POW!!
When the shot went off, the buck jumped a mile high and, as he turned in mid-air, he did the “old bulldozer,” as my dad calls it. Dad exclaimed, “You got him Kyle, good job!” We hugged as dad’s gut feeling of me getting one tonight came true.
We gave the buck a little time, (what seemed like hours), before we went to find him. As I collected myself, I was so excited. The adrenaline was flowing and when we arrived at the spot where we had last seen the buck, we immediately found blood. We tracked him about 50 feet and found him in a small ditch. As we approached him, it looked like he had fallen into an old dead bush. My dad made it to the buck first and told me to get my gun ready. My heart was pumping as I could see the grey color of the buck’s body. Dad picked up a rock and after it bounced off the buck’s body he exclaimed, “He’s done Kyle.” Now this is where my luck took an enormous turn for the better. As I was securing my gun, I heard my dad say, “Oh my Gosh!” He just kept repeating, “Oh my Gosh, Oh my Gosh!” Neither one of us was prepared for what we found lying at our feet. We assumed that I had just shot a good buck, but never in our wildest dreams did we think that he was this good! Looking at the buck, there were so many points coming off his antlers that it looked like the bush that he had fallen into had overtaken him. His horns were heavy and it seemed like there were hundreds of points going in all different directions. From this point forward there would be no words to describe this buck; none that anyone would believe anyway without seeing it with their own eyes. Dad gave me a big hug and we had several high fives. There is just no way to explain the excitement and emotion of what we were looking at. A few minutes later, dad said that we needed to get to work on him right away because in the rush of getting to this very point, we had just brought the bare minimum, and we needed to get to the truck for photos before the light faded.
After dressing him out, we still had a long, three-mile hike to the truck. We started off on top of a ridge but soon the ridge died out and we were force to bail off into a nasty drainage. The drainage was littered with many deadfalls of burnt timber arranged in a tangled mess. Light was beginning to fade and we were only able to drag the buck 100 yards at a time. Then we would have to stop to clear out another hundred yards. This process seemed to take forever as now darkness was upon us. We had to dig into our packs to get our headlamps. The excitement of the hunt began to rapidly wear off because of the work that had to be done to find an easy path to drag this monstrous deer out. What seemed like an easy decision at first, to leave the deer whole so that we could get photographs, now seemed to be fading as fast as the light was. This was the longest three miles of my life but now, as I look back, it was worth every bit of it.
I had shot the deer around 4:30 pm and we didn’t get back to the truck until 7:30 pm. Just as we were loading the buck, we looked up and saw a car traveling down the road toward us. The vehicle slowed as my dad had his parking lights on. The people inside the vehicle asked if we were alright. Boy, if they only knew; we were overjoyed! Dad told them that we were okay and the buck’s massive horns didn’t go unnoticed. They asked if they could take a photo and they were amazed at what an awesome trophy this buck was. They asked dad for our email address and said that they would send us the photos that they had taken. They congratulated me on my harvest and drove away. As we climbed into the truck to head home, there was one more hug from dad congratulating me and telling me how proud he was. He was telling me what a great experience this was. As we drove home, I could hardly wait to call my mom and my brothers. Once we got those magical bars to make a call, I immediately put in the call and began telling them the details of the great buck that I had just taken.
As I was explaining the many points on my buck to my mom, she seemed amazed in disbelief and was wondering if I was multiplying the points. As we got into town, we stopped by several friends’ houses to show them the great buck. Everyone that we stopped to show was simply amazed. They all told me that this is truly a deer of a lifetime, but I believe that it is truly a deer of a thousand lifetimes.
As we started out on this hunt it was our goal to take a good buck for my uncle and myself. I would like to thank my dad, for he is not only an awesome dad, but a tremendous guide. I could not have done it without him. His scouting and knowledge of hunting played a big part in my success. My dad has a lot of sayings and as I thanked him for being such a great guide he said, “He would rather be lucky than good, any day.”
Post notes:
Kyle’s buck was green scored on November 28th 2007, by Roger Selner. The buck has a gross score of 307 7/8 and a net score of 303 5/8 non-typical B&C. The buck’s main frame grosses 207 even and nets 202 6/8. The right antler has 20 scoreable points, and the left antler has 16. The buck’s greatest width is 37 2/8 and his inside spread credit is 22 inches even. The amazing buck has 100 7/8 inches of abnormal points.
Kyle’s buck was taken on Nov 7th, 2007. On Jan 7th, 2008, the 60-day drying period for scoring will be up. That just happens to be Kyle’s birthday!
