LAST EDITED ON Mar-23-10 AT 09:19AM (MST)[p]My two cents:
I have two rooms filled with dead critters from three continents. Although I've never been a meat hunter, I've never really been a devout trophy hunter where score mattered.
Many of the mounts are my first of the species. Only one (mentioned below) has ever been scored, and that was for the sake of the outfitter who wanted to enter it in the SCI book.
Although folks have said a few of the heads would make the various "books," I have no interest in knowing what they score either "officially" or unofficially. The only times I've taken a tape to any of them was to measure either spread or horn lenght, but that was for mere curiosity.
When I hunted Africa, the outfitter there guaranteed every animal would make the SCI record book or we wouldn't shoot it. On the first day, I told the PH I didn't give a rat's pazzoo about the record book, so if he thought any animal was a nice representative trophy, just say so and I would kill it. And that's what I did.
And that it is how I have always approached all my hunting regardless of where I was or what species I was hunting. It's still that way today.
Now here's a snippet I wrote for Rocky Mt. Game & Fish magazine a couple years ago. The left-out part that followed the snippet gave suggestions on judging a "trophy" in the field.
IS IT A TROPHY?
Competing for some warmth, two other guides and our six hunters from New Jersey and Texas huddled closer to the dwindling campfire. While they continued swapping hunting tales on that eve of the 1976 Colorado deer season opener, I placed a fresh log on the coals, then watched the flames prey on the hunk of wood.
The pine pitch warmed quickly. With no breeze to alter their route, the sooty smoke curls lingered a bit before drifting away into the night sky. I peered up at the star-flecked blackness and smiled, recalling a question my now 45-year-old son, Keith, had asked as an inquisitive 5-yr.old in 1967.
We had camped among the ponderosa pines in northeast Arizona?s White Mountains, and the mid-summer night temperature had fallen to the low 40s. Wrapped tightly in his heavy coat, Keith had pushed in tight against my wife for extra warmth and had intently focused on the fire. After 15 silent minutes, he suddenly asked, "Daddy, where does the smoke go." Knowing I would have no plausible answer, my wife smiled when I told the toddler the smoke just goes all the way up to heaven.
Right then, a client interrupted my musing, but I heard only my name. "Sorry, I was dreaming. What did you say?"
The man from New Jersey repeated his question. "What do you think our chances of taking a good trophy are?"
Thinking about the irony, I paused several seconds. Although the question was less far-fetched than Keith?s had been, I had no definitive answer simply because I needed to know what comprised a trophy for him.
Little has changed since that night in 1976. Today, the adage, "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder," still fits. The problem is one of definition; a trophy for one guy might be a non-shooter to the next guy.
At one time or another, many hunters will harbor the spirits and desires of a trophy hunter. Unfortunately, reality usually takes precedence over spirits and desires.
Hunters supposedly kill about a million deer for each one that makes the Boone & Crockett (B&C) record book. So if my hunter wanted a B&C mule deer, his chances would be minimal at best and astronomical at worst. Yet knowing many older bucks lived in our hunting area, I could have comfortably said he had a 50/50 chance at a nice representative head, especially given the results of our past hunts in the same area. But again, my answer depended on his trophy parameters and not mine, which might greatly differ.
If we stay with the dictionary definition, any memento of the hunt would be a trophy. And many deer hunters do follow Mr. Webster's interpretation. Certainly any youngster who kills his first buck will cherish it as a trophy, regardless of antler or body size. Actually, even a spike or a doe, where legal, might qualify as a neophyte hunter?s trophy.
Then there are the middle-grounders. Although they pay little attention to concise parameters and rarely fret over a lack of symmetry or the number of points per side, they bestow trophy status to any mature, above-average buck. B&C scores are unimportant; they merely want a set of antlers for their wall. Many middle-ground hunters might also shoot a smaller buck as the final day of the season approaches.
Sean Browne is a prime example of a middle-grounder. Although the La Honda, Calif. resident is 44 years old, he began hunting only five years ago. Since then, he has killed a few wild boars, three California blacktail deer and a New Mexico elk. He had never hunted mule deer until 2006, though.
?I had traveled to Broomfield, Colo. several times because of my job with Sun Microsystems. Then two years ago, I met Wes Atkinson of Atkinson Expeditions at a sports show in San Mateo. He?s based in Wellington, Colo. and guides mule deer hunters in the northern part of that state. So I decided to book a hunt with him for the 2006 season,? Browne said.
Understandably, the first-time mule deer hunter wanted to kill the biggest buck on the mountain.
?Like most hunters, I wanted a trophy I could proudly hang on my wall. I didn't necessarily care about the score or making any record book. Still, I wanted the biggest one we could find,? he said.
Browne and his guide set out the first morning and saw several bucks as soon as they started hunting.
?My guide, Chanse Snow, spotted two bedded deer right away. One was a 3x3, and the other was a nice typical 4x4 with deep forks. After giving the bigger one a good look, though, my guide decided we could do better. We moved on to an old quarry and Chanse spotted another buck bedded in some brush in a fairly open area. Although this buck?s antlers were wider and heavier, the rear fork on the left side was not very deep. Of course, to me he looked like a monster through the spotting scope,? Browne said.
By 10 a.m., the unseasonably warm November day had caused the deer to seek out cooler climes, so Browne and his guide went to eat lunch. They also had a chance to view a dandy 180-inch buck another hunter had tagged the previous day. Without any hesitation on his part, Browne quickly let his guide know a buck like that would make his day.
They headed out to hunt again about 2:30 that afternoon. This time Wes Atkinson tagged along.
?The wind had really kicked up, but we did find a few bucks nonetheless. Chanse and Wes made me pass up a 160-class 4x4 and another one they felt was only a bit bigger. Finally just before sunset we saw a decent buck cresting a hill and took off after him. I tried hard to keep up, but a recent knee operation and being in bad shape took its toll. By the time we got to the top of the hill, the buck had moved more than 600 yards from us, and we only had about half-hour of daylight left. At that point, we decided to quit for the day,? Browne said.
When the two guides picked up Browne the next morning, the temperature at 5:30 was already 50 degrees and the wind had started again. Atkinson immediately expressed his concern, knowing the heat and wind might make for some tough hunting.
?By the time we arrived at the ranch, the sun had began coming up. So as soon as we started glassing, we saw deer but mostly does and small bucks. Finally, Chanse said, ?I found him.? He had located a pair of bucks walking together. One was a 2x3 and the other was a very nice 4x5 with high and wide antlers and deep forks. We waited until both deer bedded down before going after them. Wes was now very confident, saying, ?He?s a dead deer.? And of course, I loved hearing that,? Browne said.
Leaving Chanse below to watch the buck in case he moved, Browne and Atkinson began their stalk up a rocky hillside and eventually reached a point where they could see the buck lying in his bed about 180 yards away.
?I climbed up to a rock ledge and decided to shoot from a prone position, using Wes? backpack for a rest. When I looked through the scope through a vee in the rocks, I had a perfect view of the deer?s lung area. At the shot, the buck stood and began trotting away. I hit him with a second shot, then missed high with a third one just as the buck jumped a barbed-wire fence and disappeared from view. Still, I felt confident the first two hits were good ones. And I was right. A few minutes later, Chanse let us know the buck had gone down,? Browne said.
His 4x5 buck had a gross score of 174 inches, and the first-time mule deer hunter was extremely happy even though his buck didn't make any record book. ?To date, that mule deer is by far my best trophy and better than the buck I had dreamed of taking,? he said.
After the middle-grounders come those who feel only a record-book buck deserves trophy recognition. Of course, these committed nimrods will sometimes tag a non-record-book buck that anyone would still call an outstanding trophy, just as Browne did.
The dedicated types who search solely for these monster bucks have already paid their dues and gained the knowledge, experience and skills to locate and outsmart big deer. Most importantly, they have learned to be patient, often passing on average bucks. They can spot a buck, give it a quick once over and expertly evaluate its trophy proportions. This ability comes by practicing what they already know.
Sometimes, the opportunities to get good at judging a particular species are limited, however.
A friend, who had never seen a live mule deer, hunted with me on Arizona?s North Kaibab several years ago. John had hunted whitetails mostly on his Ohio farm, where bucks rarely live over three years. Like Sean Browne, John was a middle-grounder; he wanted a huge buck but would settle for any decent one later in the season. On the first morning we split up to cover a wide canyon more thoroughly. Left on his own, John unfortunately killed a two-year-old buck with a spindly 2x3 rack and a 18-in. outside spread ? a deer far short of the bruisers the Kaibab often produces. Yet at 175 yards that deer likely appeared to have trophy proportions to John compared to the whitetails he normally hunts.
Before I hunted blacktails for the first time near Eureka, California, I called two friends to ask them what I should look for in the way of trophy antler qualities. Both men, used to seeing deer on the state's public lands, recommended I shoot the first buck with antlers as wide as its ears. Thankfully, I didn't take their advice.
I hunted on a private timber lease, and the bucks were unusually large compared to those on California?s public lands. On opening day I saw at least six bucks with spreads wider than their ears in the first few hours and passed up one high and wide 3x3 that I later found out would make the B&C book. I did eventually kill a buck that scored high enough for Safari Club International's (SCI) record book, but if I had done my homework, I could have tagged a better one. Given the recommendations I had, though, I wasn't prepared to judge trophy quality beyond the "if they're as wide as his ears, shoot." .............
TONY MANDILE
How To Hunt Coues Deer
