B
boneaddict
Guest
The rest of the story.... After being surrounded by orange, I bagged out and dropped about 1500 feet and climbed up a horrible looking ridge. I passed on a 4 then a three. I came around into the head of a new basin and walking across it was a huge muley. I knew it was a monster without even seeing horns. He was HUGE. I dropped my pack and went prone and he stepped behind some trees. When he stepped out I fired. I hit him back and low. LOVELY! I misjudged the distance, shooting across open air. He hunched up and moved sdown the hill. I had to try two offhand shots, which was pretty futile at that distance. I ran up the hill about 20 feet and went prone again in the rocks, and punched him in the boiler room. THUMP. He went down, floundered around and crawled, fell straight down through the rocks. I grabbed my gear after I sat and listened for a few. It started pouring down rain. I spent the next 9 hours scouring the slidechutes, rocks, downfalls etc, and couldn't find my buck. The first one in 21 years of successful hunts that I couldn't find. I was sick! He was on a very conservative estimate 28 inches with huge forks and eyeguards. A good 180 buck at worst. His fronts really flaired out, so had a huge inside spread. A true trophy for the Valley. I wanted to just rip up my tag for the year. A huge horse camp moved in just under me, out of the rocks. I can only hope they at least found him.