Frontstuffer Hunt
Recently, I headed westbound for a muzzleload buck hunt. I only had a few days to hunt before I needed to be back in Oregon so I figured the first good, mature buck I saw I would pursue. I still don't know why my pack weighed 63 pounds heading into camp, I thought I had packed light...Lets see, an eleven pound gun, 4 days worth of food, extra clothing, sleeping material, water, optics, tripod, bullets..it all adds up.
Opening morning was cold. Really cold. I wore 7 layers to bed and still woke up freezing. I had spotted several bucks in the morning including two that I felt were shooters. While making a plan to get closer to the bucks, several hunters walked fairly close to where the bucks had bedded spooking them from their afternoon beds. A little while later, Tyler and I had spotted the same bucks bedded in a different location...unfortunately 2000' ft. lower in elevation. They were loafing alongside a small meadow along with 9-10 other bucks and some does. Do I really want to drop all the way down into the canyon and then haul the buck out? OF COURSE I DO! I slowly made my stalk for several hours inching my way through rugged, steep country. I finally reached a point where I felt I couldn't get closer without the risk of a pair of eyes spotting me. I had already belly-crawled the last 80 yards. I laid 200 yards from the deer and hoped they would get up and feed in the meadow between us for a hundred yard shot. Time went by slowly until finally the evening shadows began growing across the canyon. I knew any moment the deer would stretch and begin to feed. The largest buck, which I was hoping to kill, stood up first. He ignored the other deer and slowly fed his way alongside the meadow heading uphill, the wrong way. I needed a quick change in plans. That big buck wasn't going to step foot in the meadow but move back into the rugged country where I had spotted him this morning! The other bucks observed the big buck, learning from his behavior. They quickly stood up and followed the buck uphill. Okay, I really need to make a decision quick or I'm not getting a shot at this buck. My limit with my smokepole is around 170-180 yards...on a good day. I had to close the distance quickly. I grabbed my fleece jacket, stood from my afternoon bed and quickly ran at the deer through the meadow as quickly as I could. I knew I would be busted, but how quickly would they bolt? I covered the 30+ yards in no time, threw my jacket in the shrub, lay prone, and set up my smokepole for a quick shot. The does had spotted me and were leaving the country in a hurry. The bucks turned to watch the fleeing does not realizing danger had just gotten in-range of them. I dropped the 1x power crosshairs on the big buck's front shoulder and slowly squeezed the trigger. KAPOOOOWWWW!!! Smoke filled the air between me and my prey. Did I hit him?
I quitely and quickly loaded another bullet into the barrel. The bucks were alarmed but unaware of where the shot had come from. My buck stood broadside ready to bolt.This time all buck fever had left me, I was upset I had missed. KapooWWWW!!! The bullet sounded like it hit rock..I quickly loaded another bullet wondering if I had knocked my scope off during the hike in...I pulled my binoculars up to make sure which buck was which when I spotted the big buck staggering and lay down, his head slowly waivering back and forth. I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew he would die quickly. The first bullet was a hair low, ricocheted off the rock behind him and penetrated his front shoulder on the backside. The second shot passed through the lungs. He is a beautiful buck.
Tyler came down to help me pack it out. He shouldered my gun and offered to help pack the deer. 'Let's tie the antlers to the top of the pack.' I said ignoring his offer to help. 'Right, your glory march back to camp...I shouldn't have even asked to help' he replied. I smiled. Two days later I packed the 92 pounds of meat and camp back to the truck which patiently waited for me 4.5 miles away. I tell myself every year it will be the last time I will make that damn trip...but I doubt it.
Michael Burrell
Recently, I headed westbound for a muzzleload buck hunt. I only had a few days to hunt before I needed to be back in Oregon so I figured the first good, mature buck I saw I would pursue. I still don't know why my pack weighed 63 pounds heading into camp, I thought I had packed light...Lets see, an eleven pound gun, 4 days worth of food, extra clothing, sleeping material, water, optics, tripod, bullets..it all adds up.
Opening morning was cold. Really cold. I wore 7 layers to bed and still woke up freezing. I had spotted several bucks in the morning including two that I felt were shooters. While making a plan to get closer to the bucks, several hunters walked fairly close to where the bucks had bedded spooking them from their afternoon beds. A little while later, Tyler and I had spotted the same bucks bedded in a different location...unfortunately 2000' ft. lower in elevation. They were loafing alongside a small meadow along with 9-10 other bucks and some does. Do I really want to drop all the way down into the canyon and then haul the buck out? OF COURSE I DO! I slowly made my stalk for several hours inching my way through rugged, steep country. I finally reached a point where I felt I couldn't get closer without the risk of a pair of eyes spotting me. I had already belly-crawled the last 80 yards. I laid 200 yards from the deer and hoped they would get up and feed in the meadow between us for a hundred yard shot. Time went by slowly until finally the evening shadows began growing across the canyon. I knew any moment the deer would stretch and begin to feed. The largest buck, which I was hoping to kill, stood up first. He ignored the other deer and slowly fed his way alongside the meadow heading uphill, the wrong way. I needed a quick change in plans. That big buck wasn't going to step foot in the meadow but move back into the rugged country where I had spotted him this morning! The other bucks observed the big buck, learning from his behavior. They quickly stood up and followed the buck uphill. Okay, I really need to make a decision quick or I'm not getting a shot at this buck. My limit with my smokepole is around 170-180 yards...on a good day. I had to close the distance quickly. I grabbed my fleece jacket, stood from my afternoon bed and quickly ran at the deer through the meadow as quickly as I could. I knew I would be busted, but how quickly would they bolt? I covered the 30+ yards in no time, threw my jacket in the shrub, lay prone, and set up my smokepole for a quick shot. The does had spotted me and were leaving the country in a hurry. The bucks turned to watch the fleeing does not realizing danger had just gotten in-range of them. I dropped the 1x power crosshairs on the big buck's front shoulder and slowly squeezed the trigger. KAPOOOOWWWW!!! Smoke filled the air between me and my prey. Did I hit him?
I quitely and quickly loaded another bullet into the barrel. The bucks were alarmed but unaware of where the shot had come from. My buck stood broadside ready to bolt.This time all buck fever had left me, I was upset I had missed. KapooWWWW!!! The bullet sounded like it hit rock..I quickly loaded another bullet wondering if I had knocked my scope off during the hike in...I pulled my binoculars up to make sure which buck was which when I spotted the big buck staggering and lay down, his head slowly waivering back and forth. I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew he would die quickly. The first bullet was a hair low, ricocheted off the rock behind him and penetrated his front shoulder on the backside. The second shot passed through the lungs. He is a beautiful buck.
Tyler came down to help me pack it out. He shouldered my gun and offered to help pack the deer. 'Let's tie the antlers to the top of the pack.' I said ignoring his offer to help. 'Right, your glory march back to camp...I shouldn't have even asked to help' he replied. I smiled. Two days later I packed the 92 pounds of meat and camp back to the truck which patiently waited for me 4.5 miles away. I tell myself every year it will be the last time I will make that damn trip...but I doubt it.
Michael Burrell
