Over the years, I’ve hunted a number of different species that the West has to offer, but the elusive mule deer has always held a special place in my heart. Growing up on the east coast, my youthful deer hunting consisted of chasing strictly whitetails…and, the truth be told, I loved it! However, every once in a while the pages of Outdoor Life and Field & Stream would showcase some lucky hunter and his or her exciting western mule deer adventure. It didn’t take long before the allure to hunt a giant mule deer of my own, began calling from within. Looking back, I can honestly say that my love for the species began long before I ever set foot in mule deer country…and that love, has grown beyond control ever since.

Through the good, the bad, and the ugly of my hunting adventures, I have found that one of the best states to pursue monster mule deer in happens to be the great state of Nevada. Being that I have called this state home since 1993, I have had a few chances to experience Nevada mule deer hunting for myself. However, around 6 years ago, I received a great break in the form of being introduced to Dane Barnes and Brad Lloyd of 7L Outfitters. These two young men live between Panaca and Caliente––a part of Nevada that many will concur, holds some of the best deer hunting in the entire West! Almost immediately after meeting Brad and Dane, I had the undeniable feeling that we would all get along just fine…our hunting styles and passions were very much alike and that unspoken and rare sense of chemistry was definitely present. I’ve always found it rather interesting how these types of things seem to work themselves together. Needless to say, I have had good luck hunting with both Dane and Brad during the past few years; taking two solid, 180-class muleys and a monster 5x5 elk that grossed 364 with a broken 4th. 

With the significant moisture levels that Nevada was receiving throughout 2009, Dane and I talked often about what my chances were at harvesting a nice buck in the unit I had a tag for. Some of you may be familiar with Unit 24 and for those who are, I understand the love/hate feeling you may have for the area. It truly is an incredible piece of real estate but, on the same token, it can also be as ruthless as they come. Fortunately for me, Dane is very familiar with the area; you see, his father passed along all that he knew to him while he was growing up and I would dare bet that there isn’t a trail, a mountain, or a spring that Dane hasn’t seen or that he doesn’t know about. Anyone will tell you, that this kind of intimate knowledge is what usually takes the potential for harvesting a giant buck from good, to great. Therefore, I was thankful to have Dane along to help me in my quest. 

Since, the tag I possessed this year offered some flexibility, we decided I would probably hunt the late season. However, Dane knew that if he happened to spot something big during an earlier season, he was to hit me on his speed dial and I would be there…no questions asked. As it turned out I had a conflict during the Nevada muzzleloader season in the terms of another hunt in Utah at the same time; therefore, I would be gone during the bulk of that opportunity. To make matters worse, I managed to contract the H1N1 flu upon returning from Utah and, adding insult to injury, Dane called to tell me about a monster typical that he and Brad had spotted while the muzzleloader season was still open! As I wrestled with a 104 degree temperature and melted ice bags on my head, frustration and regret boiled inside me as I had to tell Dane that I basically couldn’t get out of bed. By the time I was able to function somewhat normally, muzzleloader season was over. Bad luck yes, but we still had the early and late rifle seasons to look forward to.

As the rifle season opener drew near, Dane called again with exciting news. He had found a monster non-typical! I had a few days worth of obligations, but it wasn’t long before I found myself sitting in Dane’s truck, in pursuit of the giant buck he had found.

It was late in the afternoon when we arrived in the vicinity of where Dane had last seen the buck. With little time for an evening hunt, I didn’t even change my shoes or pants; I just threw on a hunting shirt and my MuleyCrazy hat, grabbed my gun, binos, and pack, and off we went. We had probably gone ¾ of a mile or so when Dane stopped and pointed up ahead saying, “That’s where I saw him.” I looked in the direction that Dane was pointing and I saw a fairly open hillside that faced more to the south than anything. It seemed like a very unlikely spot for a large buck to be hanging out in the late afternoon, but we were here so we pressed on. 

We eventually hiked over to a ridge that allowed us a good look at the slope. I started glassing as of course did Dane. After a couple of quick passes, I noticed that the light was beginning to fade and, despite my Leica Geovids doing their best, I just couldn’t turn up a deer. About 15 minutes later, the silent air was broken as Dane uttered the best words that you can hear while hunting, (umm, sort of), “There he is! Well, I think that’s him…well, maybe not. Yes, yes it is…it’s him for sure!” Dane was understandably very excited and that excitement quickly passed to me as I moved next to him. As he fumbled to set up his spotting scope, I impatiently waited for a turn to have a look. Finally after bringing the buck into focus, Dane let me peer into the scope. Of course, I didn’t get that great of a look as anyone who has had to share a spotting scope which has a giant buck in the center of it will tell you, your turn doesn’t always last as long as you would like. As Dane took up the glass, I ranged the buck at 1,100 yards. Noting the failing light, we both agreed that we needed to move fast to get within shooting range.

With Dane leading the way, we single filed our way towards the buck. Every 100 to 200 yards, Dane would stop and I would range. As we neared the 800 yard mark, the buck still hadn’t spotted us and it was obvious that the wind was not going to be a problem. At about 500 yards Dane stopped and asked me, “Can you hit him from here?” I said, “Yes, but I would prefer to get closer if we could.” With that, no words were spoken, as we quietly continued the stalk. Roughly, 100 yards later we stopped and dropped our gear. I told Dane that I was very confident in this shot, but I wanted to slide up another 50 yards to get a slight rise. I had a Harris bi-pod on my rifle and a little incline would allow me to shoot prone at around 350 yards. I don’t think I’ve ever missed anything I’ve shot at that was 500 yards or less while lying down with this rifle. (And I surely didn’t want to break that streak with this buck!) The funny thing was, I really wasn’t too nervous at this point of the hunt; mainly because I still hadn’t gotten a very good look at his headgear…but that was all about to change.

We slowly crept forward, little by little, eventually finding a good spot to get settled in. As I made the little adjustments that were needed, Dane had his spotting scope trained on the buck, who was now tucked behind two burnt trees. He had his head down making it so I still couldn’t get a good look at what he was packing. With the gun ready to go and everything set, Dane and I were experiencing that rare place during a hunt, when the predators are simply waiting for their prey to present himself. To make triple sure of the yardage, I ranged him again at just over 350 yards and just as the numbers cleared the glass, the great buck finally lifted his head. “Oh my gosh,” I thought out loud! The nervousness officially kicked into overdrive as I saw an incredibly wide rack that resembled a massive set of white tree branches, more than a set of deer antlers. I slowly lowered my binos and nestled into the cold hard stock of my .30-378 Weatherby Accumark. In no time I had the buck’s chest, dead center in the Zeiss Diavari scope. Ever so quietly, Dane said, “Don’t shoot just yet.” Those words were definitely appreciated but not really needed as I had already made up my mind that I wanted nothing but a broadside shot on this bad boy. A few moments later, the buck kindly obliged as he slowly turned to his right. As he began to nibble furiously at the ground, he took the couple of steps I needed for him to clear any obstructions. I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back now, I can see that time really did stand still. Here Dane and I were, 350 yards away from one of the most impressive bucks that we will probably ever see, and here I was with a perfect rest and a perfect broadside shot. Watching that incredible animal go about his business as we sat 350 yards away, will be a moment I will never forget. It was truly awesome…however, it must’ve been just a little too awesome, as I suddenly began to feel a case of buck fever creeping upon me. In fact, that feeling of rushed adrenaline, that we as hunters seek each year, was now beginning to take over. It wasn’t that I was nervous about my weapon or anything like that. In fact, about six years prior to this hunt, I had changed the stock barrel of my gun to a Christensen Arms carbon graphite bull barrel, and while I have always used Barnes bullets, I had recently switched to their Triple Shock bullet. The Triple Shock hits very hard and groups very nicely out of the Christensen barrel so there were no worries there. I was in a prone position and felt as locked as I would ever get…but even with all the confidence in the world, with each passing second, I felt as though I was losing control. I literally had to take a few deep breaths and gather myself. Then, as if I had never been worked up at all, I calmly found the buck’s shoulder in the scope, and began applying a slow and steady squeeze. I was pleasantly surprised when the gun jumped without any expectation as that usually only means one thing. Dane was milliseconds behind the shot, confirming what I knew had happened, “He’s down, you hammered him John!” 

After the ritualistic high-fives, hugs, back-slapping, whooping and general euphoria that only occurs in this type of situation, we made our way toward the downed giant. Every 50 to 100 yards, we would stop and look at him through our binos and while he hadn’t moved an inch, my excitement couldn’t be contained, and I ran the last 100 yards. Standing over this incredible buck, I did the only thing I could do…I just stood there and stared in disbelief. The sun had just set, but you could clearly see his wide, massive rack and the many non-typical points that were on it. I seriously could not believe it; I had seen muleys like this on the covers of various magazines but that was about it! With humble gratitude, Dane and I soaked up everything that the moment was offering us––we took our time just looking at him, holding his horns, talking about what a monster he was, and reliving the fortunate turn of events. 

With mass to die for, width, extra points, and just the overall look he has, I know he is the largest buck that I’ll ever take in my life…and trust me, I don’t have any delusions about topping him! Like anyone else, I’ve had my share of hard luck, missed opportunities, weather issues, equipment issues, other hunter issues, guide issues, and of course, my own self-inflicted mistakes. But that’s hunting and this incredible buck has magically washed all of those bad times away. 

I want to again, thank Brad Lloyd and particularly Dane Barnes of 7L Outfitters. These two young men really know their business and they regularly give their hunters the chance to harvest some truly outstanding deer and elk. The food and accommodations are good and they possess a great sense of humor. I would highly recommend them to anyone wanting to book a hunt with a couple of the best. Taking a buck like this has been a quest of mine since I was a young hunter and for the life of me, I can not imagine what I did to deserve such an awesome buck! 

Points: 9x11

Width: 38

Gross: 235