It has been a while since I have been able to post up a story. In 11 the one, and only animal I shot at, I did not recover. Last year I only saw one legal animal, and that was a last light good sized bull moose running down the middle of the road when I was heading for the barn. So believe me, if I had something to tell or show I would.
This year I had scouted more than I ever have. My goal was finding a buck for my son in his first year of hunting. I did not have much to show for my efforts but, last weekend he came oh so close to getting his first. We had been out two of the last three weekends. Considering all of my scouting, I was at somewhat of a loss in regards to the four-point season. It was time to go back to my old haunts. In this instance, a place I stopped going to due to very early season hunting, and increasing pressure. I just had to get away from the crowds, if I there was any.
On my way in I saw a doe and fawn, and on a distant hillside another couple does. Good sign I thought. However, this is not where I was going to be hunting. A few weeks back I bought a Honda XR 80 for my son, with the added bonus of possibly getting me into off the beaten path hunting spots. Definitely small for me but, I just needed to get there, where ever there was.
Saturday morning found me wheeling up a road that I had thought would be overgrown since the last time I was in there. I was surprised to find that it was not as bad as anticipated. I ended up midday going back to the truck and bringing it up closer to the spot. The final ascent I was doing the Flintstones to get to the top. You would have laughed if you seen it. Yes, I'm desperate.
Ditched the bike and not 10 minutes in I spotted a few does back from where I just came. A little further down another trio, but nothing with substantial bone. Making my way slowly, glassing all the while both ahead and back. Maybe a half a click up I spotted a single behind, and down on a finger ridge. It was still early, and making out antler was tough but, it was there. I certainly could not identify four. He bedded shortly after, and I plunked down and waited for better light.
He was in a spot that had me pegged if I moved too fast. I was 650 yards away or so but, I was not taking any chances. Once the light was good enough, I was quite certain he had four, and it was time to get a better look. If I went back from which I came there was a good chance I would not be able to see him. I chose to slowly butt scootch, yeah butt scootch down the wide open slash straight at him. It was steep with little or no cover! When he turned his head I moved. I was not making much headway given the incline, and I just wanted to get to four hundred.
Half way through the morning he stood, stretched, turned around, and bedded right back down. I was still not taking any chances. I had gotten to 475 when he stood again. I thought this was my only chance. I had been practicing lots, and was willing to test out my M1 turret, and I had an awesome rest. He didn't give me a shot. He slowly meandered away, around the ridge and out of sight. It sat well with me being that I did not spook him to the next mountain range. I circled around to the other side but, I never saw him.
For the night I sat myself down closer to where I lost sight of him. I had sight lines out to about 350 yards through the timber, or I should say dead standing. I caught movement late into the evening, it was him, and he was not taking his time. I set up but couldn't find him in the scope. Grabbed the binos, and spotted him once again. Got behind the rifle again, and he was gone. Considering where he was, I really do not know how he gave me the slip. I couldn't help but laugh.
Sunday found me in the same spot as the previous night before first light waiting. As the day broke I was surprised that I did not spot a single doe, but I was going to stay there for a while. It was light enough to glass the entire hillside, with frequent passes over the area I last saw him. He appeared out of nowhere on the edge of the timber, and he was not getting away this time. Quartering away at 220 yards I took the shot. I saw him take a couple leaps, and what appeared to do the flop over. Considering his appearing, and disappearing acts, I was not sure the shot was good. It did however feel good.
Back to the truck I went, loaded up the bike, my gear, and drove it to the closest spot I could. It was a toss up with what I was going to do in regards to getting him out. For some reason my pack was missing the hip belt buckle, and the thought of packing him out without that was not appealing at all. I went in with the minimum, and thought I would figure it out after.
I must admit there was a few tense moments. After a short search I saw the white of his belly. Over I went, with a small sigh of relief. I thanked God, The Deer God, The Creator, or whomever you want to call him several times, took some photos, and went to work.
In the end it was a leap frog, half at a time pack up the steep incline. Some spots I was having to be sure of its position for fear of rolling back down. Shortly after 11 I had him in the truck, and was heading for home. He is my best buck yet! Cheers....
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