2
2rocky
Guest
LAST EDITED ON Oct-06-05 AT 05:50PM (MST)[p]LAST EDITED ON Oct-06-05 AT 05:20?PM (MST)
FINALLY! At age 31 I finally shot a mule deer. Up until now, the closest thing I had on my wall was a few blacktails from Marin County, and a Whitetail buck from Idaho. He's no monster, but I sure had a hand full dragging him down the mountain through the dead falls to get him to a place where we could load him on a pack horse. Here's the story relating to the deer hunt itself as I jotted it in my journal:
Arrived in Jackson WY on the 23rd. Spent the night at the Painted Buffalo Hotel. (Ask for Tony, the owner).Drove out to the ranch the next day in the rain. 45 miles up the Gros Ventre on some slimy, snotty roads.
The morning of the 24th we rode out and saw a high and wide 2x3 about 1200 yards away. 24 inches wide easily. Big Forks, Small 3rd point. I called him my "last Day buck". Rain off and on. Visibility poor. Saw a couple does.
That afternoon met up with three other hunters with deer tags, and we did a short drive on som stands of timber. I saw three does, one other hunter saw a 16" wide 4 pt., and we saw a 15 " antelope buck. We also found a nice 3x4 skull about 26" wide, and two elk sheds.
The next morning (09/25) we rode up the same creek drainage as the morning before. Saw the 3x2 with another narrow forked horn, and another small racked 4x4. Saw another deer way off, couldn't get a good look. We rode up the drainage, through scattered thunderstorms. Lots of grizzly sign. Had lunch in a meadow bordering a clear cut. Saw 3 cow elk and a 5 point bull wwwwaaayyy off across the creek. Good sign. Elk opens tomorrow. Walked through the trees down the creek, leading the horses. Busted a good 4point at about 50 yards. He was with a forked horn and a doe that covered his retreat in the fir trees. Never had a shot.
We got into the hunting tent camp that afternoon at about 2 pm and spent the rest of the afternoon gettin camp set up for opening day of Elk season.
I tagged along as my uncle and dad hunted elk for the next three days, hoping to see a buck. No dice. Finally on the morning of the 29th, we headed across the creek into a burn. At first grey light we spotted a single elk feeding along the edge of the timber. We glassed along the ridge until we peeked over a ridge and saw a bunch of white rumps across the draw. We hustled down the main ridge until we were just above them. Gene said to me "Now you aren't going to have a lot of time to make your descision here, it's gonna be fast shooting."
I nodded and started crawling over the top of the ridge top when a do pegged me and snorted. Just then I saw a high, wide 4 point buck bounce down the ridge. I threw up the gun and saw that big white rump bounding all over my scope, with antler sticking out both sides. He hit some tall brush and turned to see what all the commotion was as I tried to steady the crosshairs on his head and neck above the weeds. He was one step away from stepping into an opening where I had a clear chest shot when he turned on his heels and bounded into the trees never to be seen again....
As I trudged up the hill back to Gene and Dad, the does that had busted me were still in the opening 400 yards away watching me make my retreat. Suddenly Gene hissed "Theres a buck!!". On the right side of the clearing another buck stepped out to see what the does were staring at. He was high but not as wide as MY buck. I sat down to get a bead on him, but the curve of the hill blocked hism from sight. I sat up. I stood up. I knelt on one knee. I couldn't get steady on him. My breathing was all over the place.... I shot and he was still standing there. I shot again, No movement. I shot again, and again. Nothing.
"You're shooting over him!" Gene said as I fed in another 300 win mag. and tried to steady for another of the steep down hill shots. After the 5th shot that didn't even make dust, the buck began to turn down hill to get out of the noisy neighborhood. I reached over and grabbed my dad's .264 Win Mag for a desperation shot. On the second shot with the .264 , I heard the WHACK and watched him hunch up, then topple over backwards, 400 yards down the ridge on the edge of the burn.
When I got down the hill and finally found the buck, he was a 3x3 with eyeguards. We measured him at 18 inches wide, by 17 inches high. Not the bruiser I'd dream about but his carcass was 133# at the meat plant dressed out!
Heres some pictures of the ol' boy.....
FINALLY! At age 31 I finally shot a mule deer. Up until now, the closest thing I had on my wall was a few blacktails from Marin County, and a Whitetail buck from Idaho. He's no monster, but I sure had a hand full dragging him down the mountain through the dead falls to get him to a place where we could load him on a pack horse. Here's the story relating to the deer hunt itself as I jotted it in my journal:
Arrived in Jackson WY on the 23rd. Spent the night at the Painted Buffalo Hotel. (Ask for Tony, the owner).Drove out to the ranch the next day in the rain. 45 miles up the Gros Ventre on some slimy, snotty roads.
The morning of the 24th we rode out and saw a high and wide 2x3 about 1200 yards away. 24 inches wide easily. Big Forks, Small 3rd point. I called him my "last Day buck". Rain off and on. Visibility poor. Saw a couple does.
That afternoon met up with three other hunters with deer tags, and we did a short drive on som stands of timber. I saw three does, one other hunter saw a 16" wide 4 pt., and we saw a 15 " antelope buck. We also found a nice 3x4 skull about 26" wide, and two elk sheds.
The next morning (09/25) we rode up the same creek drainage as the morning before. Saw the 3x2 with another narrow forked horn, and another small racked 4x4. Saw another deer way off, couldn't get a good look. We rode up the drainage, through scattered thunderstorms. Lots of grizzly sign. Had lunch in a meadow bordering a clear cut. Saw 3 cow elk and a 5 point bull wwwwaaayyy off across the creek. Good sign. Elk opens tomorrow. Walked through the trees down the creek, leading the horses. Busted a good 4point at about 50 yards. He was with a forked horn and a doe that covered his retreat in the fir trees. Never had a shot.
We got into the hunting tent camp that afternoon at about 2 pm and spent the rest of the afternoon gettin camp set up for opening day of Elk season.
I tagged along as my uncle and dad hunted elk for the next three days, hoping to see a buck. No dice. Finally on the morning of the 29th, we headed across the creek into a burn. At first grey light we spotted a single elk feeding along the edge of the timber. We glassed along the ridge until we peeked over a ridge and saw a bunch of white rumps across the draw. We hustled down the main ridge until we were just above them. Gene said to me "Now you aren't going to have a lot of time to make your descision here, it's gonna be fast shooting."
I nodded and started crawling over the top of the ridge top when a do pegged me and snorted. Just then I saw a high, wide 4 point buck bounce down the ridge. I threw up the gun and saw that big white rump bounding all over my scope, with antler sticking out both sides. He hit some tall brush and turned to see what all the commotion was as I tried to steady the crosshairs on his head and neck above the weeds. He was one step away from stepping into an opening where I had a clear chest shot when he turned on his heels and bounded into the trees never to be seen again....
As I trudged up the hill back to Gene and Dad, the does that had busted me were still in the opening 400 yards away watching me make my retreat. Suddenly Gene hissed "Theres a buck!!". On the right side of the clearing another buck stepped out to see what the does were staring at. He was high but not as wide as MY buck. I sat down to get a bead on him, but the curve of the hill blocked hism from sight. I sat up. I stood up. I knelt on one knee. I couldn't get steady on him. My breathing was all over the place.... I shot and he was still standing there. I shot again, No movement. I shot again, and again. Nothing.
"You're shooting over him!" Gene said as I fed in another 300 win mag. and tried to steady for another of the steep down hill shots. After the 5th shot that didn't even make dust, the buck began to turn down hill to get out of the noisy neighborhood. I reached over and grabbed my dad's .264 Win Mag for a desperation shot. On the second shot with the .264 , I heard the WHACK and watched him hunch up, then topple over backwards, 400 yards down the ridge on the edge of the burn.
When I got down the hill and finally found the buck, he was a 3x3 with eyeguards. We measured him at 18 inches wide, by 17 inches high. Not the bruiser I'd dream about but his carcass was 133# at the meat plant dressed out!
Heres some pictures of the ol' boy.....
quakies lost their leaves already ?
