Webster defines “fate” as: “That principle by which things are supposed to come to be, or that which is destined or decreed.” Therefore, I believe it could be nothing but fate, that drove the events leading up to the day that I took a fantastic Nevada muley. 

Early in the year, I was excited to learn that I had drawn a great Nevada deer tag with Keith Montes, co-owner of Nevada High Ridge Outfitters. I had been anticipating this event all year long, and about a week before my hunt was to take place, I suddenly got an email from Keith stating to call him ASAP! Of course, I always do what I am told and when Keith picked up the phone, all he said was, “Get out here right away!” He had apparently spotted my buck and he went on to say that if I didn’t leave now, the buck may not be there for another day. Even though it was already 11 am and I was a good seven hours away from Keith, I told him I would make a few phone calls, pick up some stuff from home, and head his direction.

On the way to Nevada, I would get an occasional phone call from Keith updating me on the whereabouts of the buck. Apparently he had been watching the buck for hours, describing him as a “pig”, a “monster”, and certain other adjectives that tend to get the kind of juices that old men are not supposed to have, flowing. Later that night, I met Keith at the hotel where he showed me pictures of the buck he had taken with his cell phone through his spotting scope. I think he was trying to keep me from a good night’s sleep, and it worked.  

At 4 am the next morning, I found Keith waiting for me outside the hotel door. On the way out to where Keith had last left the buck, we met up with John, (one of Keith’s guides). The site was a mile or two from the dirt road we had taken and resembled a very large crater, a mile or better in diameter, with vegetation and swamp grasses that had grown tall enough to get lost in. The crater still had areas in it that held standing water which made for a veritable wildlife mecca. We snuck up to the 30 foot high berm surrounding the crater just as dawn was beginning to seep into the valley and almost immediately, we could see deer. But no matter how hard we tried, we could not find the buck Keith had so patiently put to sleep the night before. Two or more hours later, and after changing our vantage point on the crater’s edge a few times, we spotted a big buck standing in eye level brush about 550 yards away. Keith immediately recognized the two, 9 to 10-inch tall cheaters that ran inside the frame of his rack…it was him! 

Just as we set up our spotting scopes, the buck bedded down, and little did we know how long the buck could sleep. All day long, we lay in the dirt, baking in the desert sun, with at least one of us standing guard over the spotting scopes at any given time, to make sure he didn’t sneak away. Finally, just before the sun was starting to set, he stood and began to move. Sure enough, fate once again smiled on us for our patience, because he began moving straight toward us. At about 300 yards, he turned broadside to us and began moving toward water. However, it was about that same time that we discovered fate was not going to do everything, because as he moved past us, he then angled away and headed toward his female friends. He continued to quarter away from us, never once breaking out of his bullet proof vest until our rangefinders tagged him at 530 yards. With no shot opportunity, we quickly ran to another small outcropping, but as I attempted to get a bead on him, I was out of breath and I just didn’t feel comfortable trying the shot while the crosshairs were still swinging wildly. Keith, acting quickly, set up the shooting sticks…ah, much better! As the buck meandered away, we debated for a bit over how high to hold the crosshairs…but finally, I took the shot which unfortunately was low. I shot once again but this time it was low and to the right. I held higher over his back and shot once again, but with the same result. It was at that time that I remembered that I had left home in such haste that I hadn’t had time to sight in the rifle! About this time, all of the deer were getting nervous and the does began to move away. The buck, now confused, looked around at his does but began to move back toward us! However, Keith counseled me to hold off shooting. Our hope was that we could just come back tomorrow and relocate him.

So we watched, now more nervous than the buck was, hoping he didn’t bolt into the next county. But fate felt sorry for me, and decided to tempt me once again. As the buck approached another opening at 315 yards, and then broadsided with vitals in full view, I made one more attempt, this time with a completely different result, as he dropped and never moved! Keith’s relief was evident as he gave me a giant hug!

We spent better than two hours taking pictures in the dark and caping and boning out the great buck. Our packs were heavy as we finally headed out to the truck in the dark and every mile of walking seemed like ten as anyone who has had to pack out of a hunt in the dark knows. The buck may not have been the stuff legends are made of for them, but it certainly was for me. I made the long drive home with the antlers sitting on the front seat beside me, so that it wouldn’t fall out of my sight again. I could take no chances, even with fate on my side. 

GROSS SCORE: 215  POINTS: 6X6 SPREAD: 29