Solo Hunt

SureShot

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Well, I've just about wrapped up my Christmas and after-Christmas shopping for the year and I can't find any boots that will keep my feet cold this time of year, so instead of spending the day out scouting like I normally do, I thought I would sit down and write up a report on the Utah muzzleloader deer hunt I was fortunate enough to enjoy this year.
 
Those of you that know me, know that I spend more time scouting than 4 out of 5 dentists recommend. I scout year-round, and, as a result, I pretty much know where every buck worth chasing hangs out during every season of the year. For example, here are some pictures I took while scouting this past year. As you can see, any of these monster bucks would make even a hunter like me drool.

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(If you can't see the pictures, don't worry. They're hosted on another part of the Internet that is down right now. Just check back later and they should be here.)
 
When you scout as hard as I do and see as many good bucks throughout the year as I do, one of the hardest parts of any hunt is deciding where to go. Luckily, I have a lifetime license, so I don't have to worry about which unit I want to hunt in. Best investment I ever made.

After countless hours of scouting, I finally narrowed down my choices to the northern, western, central, southern and eastern units. Even then, I still couldn't quite make up my mind where to go, so I fell back to the final decision-maker for me as always. I decided to hunt with my family because that's what hunting is really all about for me. Especially the children, because they are our future. I've got so many memories of hunting with my family that I can't even remember them all and I was really excited to add to those memories this year.
 
My brothers and I had been scouting one mountain in particular this summer that had some monster bucks on it and we were really excited for the hunting season to arrive. We made up our gear list, put together a menu, did all of our shopping and then packed and re-packed all of our stuff several times to make sure it would all fit and was load-balanced. And that was on top of the 3-4 hours per day that we spent on the range honing our shooting skills. When the time finally arrived, we were ready to go.
 
Ahhh?the Utah muzzleloader hunt! My favorite time of year. The leaves were changing colors in all their glory and putting on a one-of-a-kind art show that only Mother Nature can produce. The morning air was starting to get an edge to it that literally breathed new energy into my soul and made me feel full. Full of life that is. I had been running 30-40 miles per week to get my body in top condition for this hunt. I had also been riding my horses 2-3 times per week and they were in top condition and anxiously waiting for the upcoming pack trip as much as I was.

The muzzleloader hunt opens on a Wednesday every year in Utah, so on Tuesday morning I called into the office and told them I had a sight problem: I couldn't see myself coming in to work for the rest of the week. Then I got dressed in my magical Prairie Ghost camouflage hunting outfit, put on my curve-brimmed hunting hat, loaded up all of my gear in my truck, hooked up the horse trailer and gave my wife a kiss to remember me by.
 
I drove down the road to the pasture where I keep my horses when tragedy struck. I whistled to my horses and they all obediently ran up to me. (I just shake my head at those guys who have to spend 30 minutes chasing their horses, trying to catch them every time they want to go for a ride. What a bunch of losers.) As I greeted each one of them with a hug and a carrot, I noticed my mare had some terrible sores appearing all over her head, neck and back. The hair was falling out and large areas of dry, bare skin were left in its place. And, she didn't seem to be her normal, spirited self.

Of course, no hunt is worth the price of a treasured friend and loyal companion, so my plans immediately changed. I called my brothers and told them I was going to have to make a detour to the vet to make sure my horse didn't have the West Nile Virus and I wouldn't be able to meet them at the agreed-upon time and location and that they shouldn't wait for me. In fact, it looked like my whole hunt might need to be cancelled. Of course, they were disappointed I wouldn't be there with them since I was bringing the tent and all of the cooking equipment and had most of the food, but we follow the code in our family?them that falls behind gets left behind?so they wished me the best and went ahead without me.
 
Luckily for me, the vet was able to get my horse right in and quickly put my fears to rest when he diagnosed her as having ringworm instead of West Nile virus. He assured me that it was nothing serious and that she was still good to go for my hunt. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. After paying for a quick booster shot and a bottle of spray to help accelerate the healing process, we were on our way again.

While excellent news that my hunt wasn?t going to be cancelled, the detour to the vet's office had put me behind schedule by at least 25 minutes and I knew I would never catch up to my brothers, so I had to make one of those difficult decisions we all face at some point or another and change my plans at the last minute.
 
Luckily for me, I had scouted so many different areas during the summer that I had a great backup location in mind that I knew held some incredible bucks. When I got to the trailhead, I was pleasantly surprised to find that mine was the only hunting rig there. There were several other nature lovers headed out for a stroll to drink in the beauty of the colorful mountains on this fine autumn day, but I was the only one with a gun and I knew that my dream of truly connecting with my deep, inner-primal self on a solo hunting adventure was about to become a reality. It was just going to be me, my two favorite horses and Mother Nature in all her rugged splendor for the next four days.

I know a lot of guys are, quite frankly, afraid of being all alone by themselves in the mountains. But, both of my parents died before I was born, so I've been an orphan all my life and I know what it's like to be alone. I'm used to it now and nothing really scares me in the mountains?day or night'so I wasn?t worried at all. The boogie man can eat my zits as far as I'm concerned.

I saddled up my horses, one for riding and one for carrying all my gear?this was going to be a first-class camp?swung my legs over the saddle and let my feet settle comfortably into the stirrups. I sighed a deep breath of pure contentment and pointed my horses up the trail. I just had three words to say: ?Itdon'tget nobetter thanthis!?
 
The 20-mile ride in to my camping spot was just perfect, and other than the nature lovers and a couple of thugs in flat-brimmed hats down low, I didn't see another soul. The longer I rode, the farther I got from the trailhead. I could feel myself drifting further and further from the hurried pace of civilization and drawing closer to becoming one with myself and nature. I took time to appreciate every bird and squirrel I saw along the trail, and especially enjoyed the six huge muley bucks I saw at various points along the way. Things were looking great and I was excited for my hunt to begin.

There was one majestic buck in particular that really got my attention. As I rode along the narrow trail across the steep face of the mountain just below timberline, I gazed down below me and in the lengthening shadows cast by the setting sun, I saw a monster 4-point buck step out of the thick pine trees and into a small opening. In addition to his perfectly symmetrical, deep-forked antlers that swung high and wide above his head, he had a unique, caramel colored coat and a rare triple throat latch that really set him apart from the other two monster muleys that were standing next to him.
 
I arrived at camp just as the last rays of light were disappearing from the sky. I unloaded my horses and turned them out to eat and then set up my tent and turned my attention to dinner. Since there was nobody else around to make me a sammich, I made one myself. I didn't build a fire because that's not natural. However, I did get on my satellite phone and call my beautiful wife back at home to let her know I made it in safely and to express my love and gratitude to her for everything she does. In addition to being flat-out gorgeous, she is my biggest supporter and I couldn't do any of this without her.

Finally, after gazing at the bright stars for a few minutes in the nighttime sky and pondering my insignificant role in the cosmos, I crawled into my sleeping bag and drifted off to sleep as I considered my options for going after the buck of my dreams on opening morning.
 
A few hours later, I was jolted awake by the eerie sound of branches breaking and heavy breathing from some monster of an animal just outside my tent! I reached for my gun with one hand and slowly opened the zipper of my tent with the other. In the blackness of the night, I made out the huge dark shape of a giant hairy animal slowly moving closer to me. As our eyes met, his piercing gaze penetrated to the center of my spine and made it tingle. Then he let out a soft whinny and I remembered that I had forgotten to tie up my horses.

Wow! What a relief...in more ways than one. After tying up my horses and relieving myself of some extra bodily fluids, I settled back in and drifted off to sleep again.
 
The next morning, I woke up well before light and made a nice, big fire to warm my hands and cook my breakfast over. There?s nothing like a nice fire on a cold morning. After breakfast, I got dressed in my Prairie Ghost camouflage outfit, put on my curve-brimmed hat and slowly made my way down the steep mountainside to the general area I had seen the big 4-point the evening before, taking special care to keep the gentle breeze in my favor.
 
As the darkness of night slowly gave way to the brightening eastern sky, growing more and more colorful with each passing minute as if being painted by the unseen hand of a superior being, I started to make out the grey shapes of different animals. I carefully looked over every animal I saw and there were some dandy bucks on the mountain that morning, including several that were well over 200 inches. However, the big buck from the night before that I had set my sights on was not among them. I ended up seeing 25 deer that morning and 30 of them were bucks, so my spirits were high as I slowly made my way back up the mountain towards my camp for a nice big lunch and a little nap before the evening hunt.
 
One of the biggest mistakes most hunters make is that they give up too easily and don't stick it out?especially during the middle of the day. My dad always used to say that most big bucks are shot after 10:00 am and I believe him. So, I was extra attentive as I slowly made my way through the trees on my way back to camp.

Finally, just as I was almost back to camp, I stopped to rest for a few minutes on the edge of some big pine trees where I could sit quietly in their dark shadows without being seen. Just as I was ready to stand up and make the final push up the hill to camp, I heard the clinking of some rocks high above me.

I quickly threw my binoculars up and my jaw dropped as I saw the monster, triple-throat-latched 4-point buck from the night before trot over the ridge line and down the steep hill towards me. He was followed by another giant buck, but I didn't even give him a second glance. The two monster bucks were obviously sneaking away from some other less-talented hunter and were headed right towards me with no idea I was there.
 
In just a few minutes, they made their way down almost to my level and then disappeared from view, hidden behind the curve of the hill above me. I knew there was a small shelf just above me that was hiding the bucks and one of three things could happen: 1) they could either keeping going straight down the hill which would give me a perfect 80-yard broadside shot when they came back into view 2) they could turn towards the trees I was hiding in and come over the hill straight towards me and into my lap or 3) they could use their sixth sense to detect danger and change their course, staying out of sight on the flat just above me and sneak away to safety?so close and yet so far away.
 
Being the experienced hunter that I am, I knew exactly what I had to do. I stood up and quickly, but quietly started up the hill to bring the small shelf into view. I knew that if the bucks chose either of the first two options, I would still have a good shot at them, but if they chose the third option and I stayed put, they would disappear and I probably wouldn't get another opportunity at the monster. Big bucks don't get big by making mistakes.
 
It was only about 10 steps before the small flat started to come into view. Just as I began poking my head up to see over the brow of the hill, there he was! The two bucks had chosen option 2 and were headed right towards me! He slammed on the brakes a mere 10 yards from me and I could see the whites of his eyes as he realized his mistake and turned inside his own skin trying to change direction and get out of there.

Time seemed to be going in slow motion and I had a perfect shot opportunity in that instant, but I let it go because he was too close and it would have been too easy. I spend 2-3 hours three times a week all year long practicing with my muzzleloader and I can hit a paper plate out to 500 yards with ease, so I let him get some distance from me to make it more sporting. I put my gun to my shoulder and tracked him through my open sights as he bounded away. Finally, when he reached 200 yards and had a full head of steam, I slowly squeezed the trigger. Booom!!
 
A cloud of smoke immediately obscured my view, but I heard the unmistakable thwack of my bullet finding its mark. I quickly stepped to the side and saw a glimpse of the buck as he tumbled down the steep hillside and came to rest next to a huge fallen log. If it hadn't been for that log, he surely would have kept rolling for another 400 yards at least and probably would have busted up his stunning antlers.
 
As it was, everything was in perfect condition and this is what I found when I made my way over to him.

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I hate to be humble, but this is a dandy buck. He easily ranks in the top 25 biggest bucks I've ever killed, and that's saying something. I know some guys hate scores and feel like it's ruining our sport, but other guys really get into that kind of stuff and want to know. So, to keep both sides happy, I'll just say that he's somewhere between 150 and 250 inches (but a little closer to the upper end) and that his backstraps were delicious! You can't eat horns, but they sure do like nice on your wall.
 
^^^^^^^NO SH*T...... way to many words


I skiped ahead to the picture..... sweet buck








































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I enjoy the humor in the story, funny stuff. Some guys don't get it. Good read and congrats on the buck.
 
Tell that to all of the magazines that have paid big money for my stories and pictures and the taxidermists who line up offering to mount my trophies for free just so they can be associated with such a successful hunter.

You jealous little people...
 
You wrote this about 17 reading levels above your audience's reading level... I would have written it a lot better.

I would have also gone in a couple more miles to where the bigger animals hang out.

I would have taken my boots off as I left the tent and stalked barefoot. Note the pic below, after you drag your eyes off the massive rack.



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I would have used a flintlock with patched round balls, @ 225 yds.

I would have used the triple throat-patch for my new loin cloth so the pee-in-the-night dribble stains wouldn't show up as starkly.

I would take you under my wing but with both our heads in the tent where would our rippled muscular bodies find shelter?

Besides while my wife stays at home and pays the bills and brain tans my loin cloths I usually take my little neighbor girl along to do camp chores and I let her wear her shoes, so she doesn't stub her toe on the way down to the creek to wash the dutch oven.

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Nice buck! Cool story! It's must have been awesome to find that rifle leaning against him when you made your way to him. That never happens to me.

Moose

Every hunting season you miss is one you can not make up
 
Love the satire Sureshot! Way too many Eastman's type articles make me want to puke and you nailed it. You veiled it really well and that will make it hard for many to figure out.
 
I love your humor and writing style. Keep it up! Nice buck too, but there is no way that thing is an inch over 210".
 
Seriously?? 200 yards?? You call that sporting? WOW!!!

Squirrel- Could you tell us more about your neighbor please?
 
Thanks for the story and the humor that when with it. I needed the laugh.

"I have found if you go the extra mile it's Never crowded".
>[Font][Font color = "green"]Life member of
>the MM green signature club.[font/]
 
SS you are the most egotistical narcissistic prick?and I love it. Seriously, I look for your muzzy hunt recaps every year. Good to see the Prairie Ghost mojo is alive and well. Truly had me laughing out loud, again. And for the record, I often find myself saying those three words to my self too.
 
I don't care too much about score either, but I say way way closer to 250 than 150. Just what we've come to expect from SureShot!

Don't make us wait so long next year. I was starting to worry.

Eel

It's written in the good Book that we'll never be asked to take more than we can. Sounds like a good plan, so bring it on!
 
LAST EDITED ON Dec-29-14 AT 09:12PM (MST)[p]But you forgot to tell us what phase the moon was in, whether or not you perceived it to be too crowded with the flat-brim hatters and the Nature Lovers lurking below, whether or not the buck to doe ratio was socially adequate or whether or not the buck had an underbite. Other than those answers (and about two dozen more), your/you're story was good. I wish there/they're/their were more like them on this forum.
 
I hung on every word, and googled your past hunts. You are a modern day.... Idol. RIP Lil Bro' "Huntnfever"
 

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