dana
06-10-2007, 05:43 PM
There were some asking that I post up the story that was in the May/June issue of Muley Crazy Magazine. Here it is:
Mass ‘N Trash: The Final Pursuit
A thick blanket of fog loomed over our intended hunting area. It was the last day of the season and I, along with Matt and Steve Brown, had been standing on a remote logging road for over two hours drinking coffee and reminiscing about the recent hunts. What a Fall it had been! From burning down the wall tent to flipping the canoe over, we’d certainly had our share of adventures. Of course, there were plenty of big buck encounters as well, many ending with several monsters outsmarting us and escaping out the backdoor. But the most memorable and haunting of all, was a buck that I had name “MassNTrash”.
I had watched and filmed “MnT” for six years and had spent several Spring seasons scouring the public land that he called home in pursuit of his sheds. Finally, like a dream come true, I was able to find three sets of his antlers in April of 2006.
For the past four years, MnT was my number one target during hunting season. But he always seemed to make his appearance three weeks too late. However, this past November, MnT finally decided to show himself for the first time during our annual muley camp. It happened one day while I was still-hunting my way through a dense stand of redwood cedar. Suddenly, I saw a heavy buck chasing a doe a mere forty yards above me. I caught only slight glimpses of a massive antler but I instantly knew that it was MnT. I scrambled until I found a tight shooting lane before raising my rifle. Seconds later, I watched the doe cross and then MnT stepped in. I squeezed the trigger but like a ghost, he disappeared. When I raced up to where he had been standing, I found blood, just not a lot of it. We tracked him for over three hours and at one point, Matt had MnT dead to rights, but like a hunter’s worst nightmare, his safety seized.
After a gut-wrenching night with no sleep, I found MnT’s unique track the next morning. There was still the odd speck of blood and the place was ripped to shreds like a barn yard. It was obvious that he had spent the night fighting and chasing does every which way but after a fruitless search, my holidays ended and I had no choice but to go back to work. The next weekend, Steve jumped MnT from his bed but yet again, no shot opportunity was provided through the thick tangle of timber. This buck had eluded us for years and he definitely had no problem in making fools out of us again this year.
So here we were, the last day of the season, staring up at a mountain that was shrouded in fog. Matt kept assuring me that it was going to lift but I was growing impatient. Suddenly, as if on cue, the fog rolled back giving us the opportunity to glass. I had just gotten settled in behind the binos when Matt piped up, “I’ve got a buck…..and I think it’s MassNTrash!”
I burst out laughing, “Yeah right, tell us another one!” Matt focused his spotter on the buck and replied by saying, “No….seriously, I’ve got MassNTrash!” I quickly spun my spotter over and couldn’t believe my eyes – it was indeed MassNTrash! Without wasting a second, we formulated a plan of attack but when I reached into the truck I was absolutely shocked to discover…….AUUUGGGHHH, NO RIFLE!! Out of sheer exhaustion, I had forgotten my rifle at home! My head was spinning and I simply could not believe that I could be so stupid. Without hesitation, Matt said that we should have someone in the bottom keeping an eye on the buck and giving hand signals, and although he had a tag in his pocket and we had a big buck spotted, Matt offered me his rifle. I am truly lucky to have such a great friend.
Before I knew it, I found myself clawing up the slope. I was determined that this was going to be the last chapter in the MassNTrash saga. I quickly gained the elevation I needed and I soon began working my way over to the ridge on which I had last seen MnT. Heavily laden branches began to drop snow like bombs from the sky, masking the sound of my approach. It was slow and steady from that point on – four or five steps….wait, a few more steps….wait. A new blanket of fog had rolled in and visibility was once again, limited. Throughout the stalk, I found myself surrounded by deer and at times, I was less than ten yards from several different bucks. However, I was determined in my goal and moving painfully slow, I was able to work my way around each deer. Inside, I knew that at any moment they could spook and my hunt would be over.
Finally, as I came up to a small bench, the fog lifted slightly. It was the break I needed as I was able to glass back down to Matt on the other side of the valley. Before the fog was able to roll back in, Matt signaled that I should go southward, so I ventured that direction.
A few moments later, I peeked over the break and was instantly busted by a doe! With my worst fear realized, she bounded away and took a bunch of other deer with her. I had no other choice but to run flat out to an opening that was ahead of me. When I got there, I was just in time to see the deer cross – doe, doe, doe, doe……no buck! Where was MnT? I started down the steep slope and was able to glass back to Matt again. He was wildly flailing his arms, indicating that I should go straight back up. What? I had just come from there! But heck, I figured he must know where MnT was so I turned around and started climbing again.
Suddenly, exploding out of nowhere, there he was! In an instant, I raised the rifle but I had no clear shot. Tree after tree after tree was in the way as he bounded straight up the mountainside. I could see that he was headed for a stand of conifers and I had the sinking feeling that he was slipping through my fingertips. Then, like an answer to a prayer, he paused. Without even thinking, I squeezed the trigger and he disappeared from sight!
I began racing straight up the steep slope after him, my heart and my lungs feeling like they were going to jump out of my chest. In a desperate attempt to catch my breath, I stopped to rest but my mind was reeling and the sound of my heart was pounding in my ears. Through all of the adrenaline, I suddenly swore that I could hear the sound of crunching snow. Maybe MnT had looped around and was coming back towards me? I controlled my breathing and listened intently until I realized that the sound was actually coming from underneath me. I was standing on a bear den! The noise was the bear popping his teeth! Frantically, I looked down, kicked away some snow, and uncovered a snout and a pair of angry eyes. Deciding not to stick around, I jumped to the side and continued upward after MnT’s tracks.
When I finally got up to where MassNTrash had been standing, I found a speck of blood. I thought that maybe he had just opened up his old wound in the crusty snow, as the blood was very similar to what I had seen over three weeks prior. His tracks zig-zagged straight up the mountain and I began to wonder……did I miss? The fact that he was climbing hard sure made me think so and I began giving myself hell for blowing yet another opportunity. However, I decided that since it was the last day of the season, I was going to stay on his tracks until dark if I had to.
For more than half an hour, I ran straight up the steep slope, post-holing it through knee deep snow. Finally, the zigs and the zags started to get longer with less elevation being gained and there was a lot more blood. Had I hit him? A glimmer of hope appeared as I began to think that maybe I had. A few moments later, I found myself nearing the top of the mountain and when I benched out, I saw him! He was standing broadside and he looked sick. Heaving hard from the climb, I grabbed a birch tree as a rest, held steady, and dropped him.
Physically and emotionally drained, it took me several minutes to work my way up to him. Finally standing over the buck that had haunted my dreams for so many years, I raised his head out of the snow and at last, wrapped my hands around his beautiful, massive antlers. The pursuit was now over, and what a great pursuit it had been.
Mass ‘N Trash: The Final Pursuit
A thick blanket of fog loomed over our intended hunting area. It was the last day of the season and I, along with Matt and Steve Brown, had been standing on a remote logging road for over two hours drinking coffee and reminiscing about the recent hunts. What a Fall it had been! From burning down the wall tent to flipping the canoe over, we’d certainly had our share of adventures. Of course, there were plenty of big buck encounters as well, many ending with several monsters outsmarting us and escaping out the backdoor. But the most memorable and haunting of all, was a buck that I had name “MassNTrash”.
I had watched and filmed “MnT” for six years and had spent several Spring seasons scouring the public land that he called home in pursuit of his sheds. Finally, like a dream come true, I was able to find three sets of his antlers in April of 2006.
For the past four years, MnT was my number one target during hunting season. But he always seemed to make his appearance three weeks too late. However, this past November, MnT finally decided to show himself for the first time during our annual muley camp. It happened one day while I was still-hunting my way through a dense stand of redwood cedar. Suddenly, I saw a heavy buck chasing a doe a mere forty yards above me. I caught only slight glimpses of a massive antler but I instantly knew that it was MnT. I scrambled until I found a tight shooting lane before raising my rifle. Seconds later, I watched the doe cross and then MnT stepped in. I squeezed the trigger but like a ghost, he disappeared. When I raced up to where he had been standing, I found blood, just not a lot of it. We tracked him for over three hours and at one point, Matt had MnT dead to rights, but like a hunter’s worst nightmare, his safety seized.
After a gut-wrenching night with no sleep, I found MnT’s unique track the next morning. There was still the odd speck of blood and the place was ripped to shreds like a barn yard. It was obvious that he had spent the night fighting and chasing does every which way but after a fruitless search, my holidays ended and I had no choice but to go back to work. The next weekend, Steve jumped MnT from his bed but yet again, no shot opportunity was provided through the thick tangle of timber. This buck had eluded us for years and he definitely had no problem in making fools out of us again this year.
So here we were, the last day of the season, staring up at a mountain that was shrouded in fog. Matt kept assuring me that it was going to lift but I was growing impatient. Suddenly, as if on cue, the fog rolled back giving us the opportunity to glass. I had just gotten settled in behind the binos when Matt piped up, “I’ve got a buck…..and I think it’s MassNTrash!”
I burst out laughing, “Yeah right, tell us another one!” Matt focused his spotter on the buck and replied by saying, “No….seriously, I’ve got MassNTrash!” I quickly spun my spotter over and couldn’t believe my eyes – it was indeed MassNTrash! Without wasting a second, we formulated a plan of attack but when I reached into the truck I was absolutely shocked to discover…….AUUUGGGHHH, NO RIFLE!! Out of sheer exhaustion, I had forgotten my rifle at home! My head was spinning and I simply could not believe that I could be so stupid. Without hesitation, Matt said that we should have someone in the bottom keeping an eye on the buck and giving hand signals, and although he had a tag in his pocket and we had a big buck spotted, Matt offered me his rifle. I am truly lucky to have such a great friend.
Before I knew it, I found myself clawing up the slope. I was determined that this was going to be the last chapter in the MassNTrash saga. I quickly gained the elevation I needed and I soon began working my way over to the ridge on which I had last seen MnT. Heavily laden branches began to drop snow like bombs from the sky, masking the sound of my approach. It was slow and steady from that point on – four or five steps….wait, a few more steps….wait. A new blanket of fog had rolled in and visibility was once again, limited. Throughout the stalk, I found myself surrounded by deer and at times, I was less than ten yards from several different bucks. However, I was determined in my goal and moving painfully slow, I was able to work my way around each deer. Inside, I knew that at any moment they could spook and my hunt would be over.
Finally, as I came up to a small bench, the fog lifted slightly. It was the break I needed as I was able to glass back down to Matt on the other side of the valley. Before the fog was able to roll back in, Matt signaled that I should go southward, so I ventured that direction.
A few moments later, I peeked over the break and was instantly busted by a doe! With my worst fear realized, she bounded away and took a bunch of other deer with her. I had no other choice but to run flat out to an opening that was ahead of me. When I got there, I was just in time to see the deer cross – doe, doe, doe, doe……no buck! Where was MnT? I started down the steep slope and was able to glass back to Matt again. He was wildly flailing his arms, indicating that I should go straight back up. What? I had just come from there! But heck, I figured he must know where MnT was so I turned around and started climbing again.
Suddenly, exploding out of nowhere, there he was! In an instant, I raised the rifle but I had no clear shot. Tree after tree after tree was in the way as he bounded straight up the mountainside. I could see that he was headed for a stand of conifers and I had the sinking feeling that he was slipping through my fingertips. Then, like an answer to a prayer, he paused. Without even thinking, I squeezed the trigger and he disappeared from sight!
I began racing straight up the steep slope after him, my heart and my lungs feeling like they were going to jump out of my chest. In a desperate attempt to catch my breath, I stopped to rest but my mind was reeling and the sound of my heart was pounding in my ears. Through all of the adrenaline, I suddenly swore that I could hear the sound of crunching snow. Maybe MnT had looped around and was coming back towards me? I controlled my breathing and listened intently until I realized that the sound was actually coming from underneath me. I was standing on a bear den! The noise was the bear popping his teeth! Frantically, I looked down, kicked away some snow, and uncovered a snout and a pair of angry eyes. Deciding not to stick around, I jumped to the side and continued upward after MnT’s tracks.
When I finally got up to where MassNTrash had been standing, I found a speck of blood. I thought that maybe he had just opened up his old wound in the crusty snow, as the blood was very similar to what I had seen over three weeks prior. His tracks zig-zagged straight up the mountain and I began to wonder……did I miss? The fact that he was climbing hard sure made me think so and I began giving myself hell for blowing yet another opportunity. However, I decided that since it was the last day of the season, I was going to stay on his tracks until dark if I had to.
For more than half an hour, I ran straight up the steep slope, post-holing it through knee deep snow. Finally, the zigs and the zags started to get longer with less elevation being gained and there was a lot more blood. Had I hit him? A glimmer of hope appeared as I began to think that maybe I had. A few moments later, I found myself nearing the top of the mountain and when I benched out, I saw him! He was standing broadside and he looked sick. Heaving hard from the climb, I grabbed a birch tree as a rest, held steady, and dropped him.
Physically and emotionally drained, it took me several minutes to work my way up to him. Finally standing over the buck that had haunted my dreams for so many years, I raised his head out of the snow and at last, wrapped my hands around his beautiful, massive antlers. The pursuit was now over, and what a great pursuit it had been.