Stories of the one(s) that haunt you the most.

S

schoolhousegrizz

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Well I have more than one but I will share this one first. Not too long ago I was about 8 miles in the back country with my wife. I had seen a good buck two days earlier. On the second to last night I found him again. I found him in an area I was not familiar with. He was over 900 yards away and light was fading fast. I kept closing the distance, there were other smaller bucks that were closer to me and I was starting to get worried they were going to spot me and bump him off. Also, I didn't know how much light I had left. I got into where I felt like I could make the shot, probably the edge of my range (in hindsight I probably had about 10 minutes to get closer, which I should have done). I set up the spotter and had my wife watch the shot. First shot I hit right above him. Second shot he dropped like his back was broke. He took off crawling and I hit him again a little far back. Next shot he fell and went down like he was dead. I sat and watched and I could never see him come out of the brush. I tried to make it over to him in time but it got pitch Black I looked for about an hour with my headlamp but didn't even know if I was in the right spot. I went to bed that night thinking he was most likely dead. Next morning I hiked back over there and there was a pile of blood and then nothing, no tracks due to the terrain and he was gone. I looked for seven hours. Never could find him. That ended my hunt. I don't know if he would have been my biggest buck ever but he was right there. I was so excited to see the detail in his antlers maybe I missed an inline or maybe he had a cheater that I didn't see. Also, the area that I was in was beautiful and took a lot of work to get back there so it would have been so cool.

It's my hope that when we are in heaven we will be able to see the ones that got away, deer, elk, fish, all of them. ??

Let's hear some stories.
 
Back in 2003 my buddy and I found two big bucks in Wyoming. The one I was after had a couple extras and felt he’d break 200”.
Opening, there he was, right where I expected him. I scrambled to cut the distance and get him before anyone else saw him. But I also wanted to get it on video.
I decided to take a 300 yard shot instead of shaving off more yardage to make a better shot, because, like I said, I wanted it on video.
The buck gave me 3 shots before running off. I thought I hit him with the last shot, but never did find him or even any blood. Never saw the buck again.
 
Missed this deer with my bow in Wyoming a few years ago, in a very easy to draw general unit. My wife spotted him and we bedded him down with his buddies. Very difficult stalk in steep, pretty open stuff. Made it to 58 yards after a few hours. It felt like a chip shot with all the practicing and 3D shoots I had done all year leading up to the hunt. Had him broadside in his bed…I drew behind a rock and slowly got up for the shot. He didn’t move, but my wife could see that some of his buddies had spotted me and were on alert. The shot felt perfect, but he jumped the string and was up on his feet before the arrow arrived. No doubt he was alert but playing it cool like a big smart deer should. The arrow was sticking in the dirt in his bed and he was unscathed. Gut wrenching to see him leave over the hill but archery ain’t easy!! Never did find him again, hunted hard for him too.
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Many, many years ago (before most MMers were born) I got my first rifle scope. It went on my Winchester model 88 lever action 308. In those days most deer hunters only had rifles with open sights. The only time I shot the scoped rifle was to sight it in.
That year I was serious about killing a big buck so I hiked all the way to the top of a mountain near my home in great high mountain deer country. It had snowed and at first light I saw a string of 10 giant bucks coming my way. I hustled up the hill to get closer and other hunters started to open up on the herd. One heavy 4 point buck turned down the hill and headed straight at me stopping only 100 yards away. He was so close that in the excitement, I couldn't find him in my scope. I kept pulling it down and throwing it back up trying to find him. But finally he just bounded away without a shot. I would have easily killed him with my open sights.
The really sad part is, there was a late season hunt that same year and I repeated my "scope anxiety" on an even bigger buck. He ran over the hill and another hunter killed him. When I saw how big he was I was sick. He was easily a "book" typical.

After those disasters I took my scoped rifle on several jack rabbit hunts to correct my inept shooting skills.
 
littlebighorn said:
Many, many years ago (before most MMers were born) I got my first rifle scope. It went on my Winchester model 88 lever action 308. In those days most deer hunters only had rifles with open sights. The only time I shot the scoped rifle was to sight it in.
That year I was serious about killing a big buck so I hiked all the way to the top of a mountain near my home in great high mountain deer country. It had snowed and at first light I saw a string of 10 giant bucks coming my way. I hustled up the hill to get closer and other hunters started to open up on the herd. One heavy 4 point buck turned down the hill and headed straight at me stopping only 100 yards away. He was so close that in the excitement, I couldn't find him in my scope. I kept pulling it down and throwing it back up trying to find him. But finally he just bounded away without a shot. I would have easily killed him with my open sights.
The really sad part is, there was a late season hunt that same year and I repeated my "scope anxiety" on an even bigger buck. He ran over the hill and another hunter killed him. When I saw how big he was I was sick. He was easily a "book" typical.

After those disasters I took my scoped rifle on several jack rabbit hunts to correct my inept shooting skills.
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Oh man, very few things can bring the highs and lows of hunting!
 
Well mine goes back to when I was 15. My dad called in a 350 class bull. He came up to 3 yards and I could shoot cause he came head on and he let out a bugle then he caught my scent. He ran to 40 yards. Drew back and peep sight didn't line up right. I released the arrow and hit him in the shoulder right into the bone. Tracked all night, and into the next day. Never found him. Fast forward a month to rifle season he ran into the bull but couldn't get a shot.

Next one was 2 years later on a archery elk hunt. We knew of a 380 inch bull but would never come into the calls. So we went straight into his bedding area to pressure him. As we let a bugle out he pushed his 12 cows out then came in. Pulled back my bow and he stood behind the one damn tree and I couldn't shoot. Held back long enough that my arms were shaking. The arrow fell of the rest and that noise sent him off. As he ran off a 340 class came in and that 380 bull whipped his butt. Was awesome to watch. Then come rifle we were after that bull. Could never find him until a snow storm dropped 2 feet of snow. Spotted the bull several ridges away. Was no way to push the horses to get to the bull before the sun went down.
 
Man this is hard to write about and I have been thinking about starting a topic - Which do you remember more - the one you got or the one you missed. Nonetheless I am haunted by an epic choke. The bull wasn't anything exceptional, but it was in a special area we called the swamp that we essentially gave up hunting until the last day and successfully harvested a ton of elk using the avalanche chutes and other entry points to get into this plateau of horrible black timber and blow down. We had tried for years to successfully hunt this small patch of black timber but all we heard was elk blowing out all directions and never even got a shot. The worst part was when you went into this area, you rarely ever found elk in it again after you blew them out. - Go figure we were slow learners.
We finally wised up and didn't go into the honey hole until the last day - most years we didn't have to as we filled so many freezers hunting the access areas to it.
None the less one snowy morning I decided to temp fate and walked up a 500 yard shale slide that would put on top of the plateau and wanted to temp fate again. It took around 90 minutes or more to try and walk up the muddy slippery sloop to get up the avalanche chute. Once on top and well rested and I had around 300 yards of blow down to attempt to sneak thru the timber to get the swamp. I immediately started cow calling as this type of timber was impossible to move thru without making a ton of noise. I kept cow calling and moving up and over logs, under logs as there just isn't any game trail that last more than 10-30 yards. It is just a true jungle of blow down ****. Anyway I finally get to the west side of the swamp and sit down thinking about I can't believe I didn't hear any elk blow out. I unzipped my back pack and grabbed a water bottle and start taking a drink and I notice a tan patch about 15 yards away. I look at it and think damm that looks like a piece of elk hide. **** the damm things moves and all I can see is an antler. I quickly grab my gun and the bull is too close, but I see the base of the antlers and brow tines with the naked eye which makes it legal for this unit. I slowly get the scope dialed down and wait for a clear shot as I can see is the top of the skull cap and horns. Finally the bull raises it head and steps forward giving me the perfect boiler room shot - I shot all hell breaks loose. I am sure I killed the bull and nearly get ran over literally by cows/calves and other bulls. I could have touched several with my gun barrel as they ran by me. When everything calms done I go to collect my bull only to find no blood no hair no anything. I searched for several hours to no avail. Ultimately I think my bullet hit a small branch that deflected it at 15 yards--I don't know for sure, but that perfect opportunity just kills me that I missed under the perfect conditions. I went back the next day couple of days and listened for birds and such to help me believe I didn't miss. I realize I did miss and have killed many other bulls including a few that should have got away, but that missed shot will be the shot I remember the most.
It must be character flaw to focus on the miss and not all of the other successful shots - heck a few years ago I sat down at 3:30 in the afternoon overlooking a different area and promptly had a herd of elk walk down a game a trail 8 yards from me that I didn't know existed and shot one in the neck. You would think this unexpected success story would trump my choke - but it doesn't.
 
Back in 2004; my brother, dad, and myself each had tags (although my dad's had already been filled). I got split up from both of them only to hear gunshots shortly after. They indicated big buck which they had missed and that it went up this draw. I hustled up the draw and saw the back end of a deer standing broadside behind a tree. I knew it was a buck as the deers body was huge. However, I needed antlers to confirm before I was going to take the shot. I finally got the confirmation and I brought my rifle up for the shot. Unfortunately, I happened to let out a heavy breath right into my scope which fogged it terribly. By the time I got it cleared he was walking away about to go over the ridge. I let a desperation shot go and missed. We never saw it again.
 
My wife had a late Pauns muzzleloader tag in '97. We were headed back to Kanab about noon, doing 55 down the highway, when appeared in the middle of the road a giant buck with trash all over. I pulled over and told her to shoot. She said she couldn't because she was on the highway. I told her I didn't care. Shoot! She refused and we watched that buck WALK 50 yards across a small opening and into the trees. I'd guess it scored 230.
 
My grandson missed an elk just last Thursday (4x standing there).
I'm not sure who it haunts more, me or him! Damnation!

There are others but the pain is still too much to discuss here.

We're headed back out in the morning to see if we can even drive in there with all the snow that we've received.

Zeke
 
My son and I were on his youth mule deer hunt here in southern NM last year. He was13 then so really new to hunting. We were hunting some really nasty volcanic flows down between Las Cruces and El Paso called Aden Lava flows. Most people won’t venture in it very far. We had hiked in about 2 miles before first light. Right as the sun starts coming up I spotted a really nice heavy 4x4. He was only about 90 yards away. He had seen some movement so he was kinda wary but we were able to back out a little and regroup. We backed around one of the volcanic knobs and tried to get set up for a shot. My dumbass had forgotten the shooting sticks and laying prone wouldn’t allow my son to see over the lava to take a shot. The deer was up feeding so we had plenty of time to look him over. He was easily a 170-180 class buck. He was in such a strange location that the only way we had a shot was to get set up higher than laying prone. So once again my dumbass has a bright idea to have my son shoot off my back like a bench. Everyone of you reading this knows how that dumbassery turned out. He shot a little high, the deer blew out of there and I couldn’t hear out of my right eardrum for about three weeks. It’s a great story to tell now days but it still haunts me. Woulda ruined him for hunting though since he might never shoot another deer that big.

I got a descent photo of him.

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Made a bad shot on an archery buck on the Pauns in 1992. According to the “experts” at the time. He was 34” wide with a 210 frame and 10” dropper off his right beam. Tracked him for 3 days after the hit. I still think about that deer A LOT!
 
Many years ago, before magnified scopes were allowed on muzzleloaders and fancy rangefinders were available, I missed a buck one opening morning that I know was right around 215”, on a general unit in utah at 150 yards. He was a big main frame 4x4, but had matching in lines on both sides that were over 10” long and had 2 long cheaters on one side and a long one on the other. I spotted him with a group of other bucks about a mile off. We snuck around the ridge to cut the distance. I was sure we would get busted before we could get in range. the wind was terrible and there was several other deer between us and them, but when we came over the top of where they should be, they were still feeding, right where we last saw them. The shot was almost straight downhill. I didn’t have an angle ranging range finder at the time, and I didn’t bother to think about adjusting my aim because of the angle. My gun was zeroed at 100, I figured hold at the top of his back because he was 150. Well guess where I hit. My brother said I missed by 2”. The buck had no idea what had happened. The other buck caught sight of me reloading and moved across the draw, up the other side and stopped level with us this time. I ranged, 150 yards again, only it was flat shooting this time. Stupid me, not comprehending what had happened, other than that I had shot right where I was aiming the last time, held right in the middle of his body and pulled the trigger. Shot right underneath him. This time he knew what was going on and left in a hurry. it wasn’t until after he had walked out of my life forever, that I realized my stupid error and what had happened. I hunted that same area for 6 days and never saw him again. I could find the bucks he was with, so im sure he was there somewhere, I just couldn’t ever turn him up.
 
Back in the early 1990's I used to hunt Colorado for mule deer in unit 44. It was an over-the-counter tag back then for the 3rd season. We had hunted 3 or 4 days and needed to go to town and get a shower and do some laundry. We left camp headed for town, only 2 of the 4 of us brought a rifle for the ride. the country was junipers and sage brush. Well low and behold we come around a corner and I spot some deer getting ready to cross the road right in front of us about a hundred yards out. We stop and bail out of the vehicle I told the guy's don't look at the doe's, look at the last deer of the group. They opened fire and not one of them hit the buck. It was just trotting with the doe's. That buck was gone before we new it. He had to be 36" wide and weigh 300lbs. It was the biggest buck we had seen in all of our hunting in unit 44.
 
on an AZ archery elk hunt, I ran to get to some bulls we heard fighting, when I got close the fighting had stopped and I peeked around the juniper I was behind, I saw a nice bull on the opposite side of a wide low bunch of brush, maybe 35 yards away raking it like he was really pissed, I thought he must be the loser. Then I caught movement to my right and a monster 6 point was walking slowly, my side of the low brush, to me with his eyes wide, and tilting his rack to the side to show the other bull what for, I had an arrow knocked and thought he is going to be 30 yards broadside in a few seconds, he was so focused on the other bull that he didn't even see me draw. I was in shooting mode and was tracking his chest with my pin, as I was pulling the trigger on the release, he turned straight into the bush and started to rake it. It all kind of happened at once, I watched my arrow go right past his shoulder and into the brush. They both just ran off a bit and looked back trying to figure out what made the noise. then they both walked off over a ridge. I have replayed that one so many times, all I needed to do was wait! he would have given me a great shot most likely, I was lucky that I cleanly missed him, and never saw him again for the next 9 days
 
in 2005 I had a 415” bull headed right towards me below bishop in unit 10 AZ about 60 yards out and his cows single filing through past me broadside.
Travis Mclendon was radioed down by his spotters and ripped through the heard as fast as he could on a quad. Pushing the elk every direction and I had no shot with my bow. Tim Pender, the warden said he’d “handle it”. I didn’t not see that dirtbag again during the hunt.

I can’t wait until our paths cross next time.
 
Colorado 1977 or maybe78 I found this old buck on one of my September scouting trips north west of Craig Colo. So I kept tabs on him till the rifle hunt rolled around,on opening day I went in there hoping to find him with no luck, on the second day I was climbing up to a ridge for I could watch the breaks of this broken country while I was working my up to this one knoll poof there that ole buck was standing there looking at me at about 50 yards well I rushed and got my rifle ready and used a branch of an old dead cedar tree for rest and just as I was pulling the trigger I lost my footing on some loose rocks, wow a perfect grade A gut shot by the time I got another round jacked in and got my footing he was gone, so I just stood there watching the breaks and ridges hoping I'd catch sight of him..no such luck, after about twenty minutes or so I worked my way up to where he was standing when I shot I found plenty of sign ie. pieces of intestines and stomach matter but no deer I really felt he had to be dead somewhere close by but I searched the rest of the day till dark and never turned him up.. As far as I was concerned my hunt was over and my tag filled but I still felt this buck was in there somewhere dead so for the next three days I tromped this rough broken country searching for him with no luck then on the forth day I was walking the upper ridges of this country and clear down on the other side in a deep canyon I spotted some magpies and ravens my search was over and I found my deer ..a little over a mile away as the crow flies..this hunt has always been a little bitter sweet for me although I did recover the rack the thought of making such a great animal suffer and the meat going to waste has always bothered me..from that season on I've never rushed a shot I've always made sure I had a good solid rest before my finger ever gets close to the trigger and my bucks have always been relatively close to where I've shot them...
 
Worst for me was during my short time bow hunting 20 years ago in Wyoming. Clearly, my bow hunting technique was severely lacking- I was basically still hunting them. But the advantage was the elk were in serious rut mode, so I still stood a chance. Sure enough, chance presented itself. I heard this hoarse bugle a few hundred yards down a ridge I was on. Then again, a little closer. I snuck about 30 yards into the timber, hoping that bull would walk right by in the open along the ridge. I picked a spot to make sure he couldn’t see me until he was in range. Closer and closer that bull worked his way up. Every time I heard that hoarse bugle the anticipation just built up. He made what should have been a fatal mistake, walking right by where I hoped he would. He was the biggest bull I’d ever seen in that country, and I let the arrow go. Right over his back. Aaaarrggg….

I stuck to rifle hunting after that!
 
Mine is a lesson of don’t let someone else shoot first that will forever haunt me!
I took my wife on a backpack hunt to one of my areas when we were still dating. We both had tags and she had her own rifle but borrowed her grandpas. It had turrets on it which I avoid but he assured us it was at zero and we didn’t need to touch it under 300 yards. Well opening evening after we packed in we had a 7x8 that I had seen for 3 years easily over 200, and a 175-180 4 point at 360 yards. No idea we were there, we had perfect rests on an open hillside, the most perfect opportunity to double up ever. In my stupidity of dating I asked if she wanted to shoot first, knowing I’d be perfectly happy with the 180 buck as well, and if she didn’t put him down then I’d shoot at the big one. So she shoot’s first and misses by a mile, bucks take off instantly 100 miles an hour! I shot several times trying to put him down but we never touched him. I can still vividly picture that image in my head of both giant bucks on a sunny hillside.
So next day, we have about a 160 4 point, exact same spot. My wife shoots 3 times and the deer doesn’t move, can’t even tell where she is hitting. I eventually shot the buck once he started to move.
Haven’t touched a scope with turrets since, and every time I take someone hunting with me now I say “if we see a good buck and have time, we will talk about it. But if it’s a giant I’m not going to ask you, I’ve learned my lesson!”
 
bowhunter3 said:
Mine is a lesson of don’t let someone else shoot first that will forever haunt me!
I took my wife on a backpack hunt to one of my areas when we were still dating. We both had tags and she had her own rifle but borrowed her grandpas. It had turrets on it which I avoid but he assured us it was at zero and we didn’t need to touch it under 300 yards. Well opening evening after we packed in we had a 7x8 that I had seen for 3 years easily over 200, and a 175-180 4 point at 360 yards. No idea we were there, we had perfect rests on an open hillside, the most perfect opportunity to double up ever. In my stupidity of dating I asked if she wanted to shoot first, knowing I’d be perfectly happy with the 180 buck as well, and if she didn’t put him down then I’d shoot at the big one. So she shoot’s first and misses by a mile, bucks take off instantly 100 miles an hour! I shot several times trying to put him down but we never touched him. I can still vividly picture that image in my head of both giant bucks on a sunny hillside.
So next day, we have about a 160 4 point, exact same spot. My wife shoots 3 times and the deer doesn’t move, can’t even tell where she is hitting. I eventually shot the buck once he started to move.
Haven’t touched a scope with turrets since, and every time I take someone hunting with me now I say “if we see a good buck and have time, we will talk about it. But if it’s a giant I’m not going to ask you, I’ve learned my lesson!”
Click to expand...
?, Sorry!
 
The year was 1998 the month was November the weapon was a MK85 the place Paunsaugunt…
Tracking a buck in the sand for hours… I have the tag in the lead tracking, my brother behind watching out in front… Hindsight is awesome and I wished we had traded places…
I followed the bucks tracks into an oak brush patch, the buck walked out the other side and starred at my brother at 20 yards… by the time I saw him he was bounding away out of my life… I think about that day and that buck daily..,. Mid 30’s with mass and extras…
 
The buck that haunts me was 2015-2016. We named Bigfoot. I hunt a place that is mostly sand and I track hunt it. In 2015 I cut a track on a hill and started following it. The deers feet were very big and you could tell he was giant and his front prints would sink really deep in the sand. I was positive he had a giant rack that weighed his front end deep into the sand. As I tracked him we crossed a road I had driven threw so I new I was hot on his trailI. As I followed him I could see he was going to an ambush spot so I hurried ahead. When I got there I just missed him and was pretty bummed out. The next year I went to the same spot and bumped the deer again. I had my son and father with me so I sent them ahead to the ambush spot while I tracked the buck. As I followed him he went exactly the same route as he did the year before. It crazy but I could tell this was the same deer from his track. I was pushing the deer just a head of me and just couldn’t get a look. I knew my dad or son where going to get him. Then I blew it, I wanted this buck so bad and I let greed get me. I had them leave a four wheeler on the road where we were heading. Instead of just pushing the deer ahead I jumped on the wheeler and raced ahead trying to see him first. He knew I was there and changed his path and never showed up. I later went back to his track and followed it. The buck must have watched me race ahead so he went over to a 1000 foot cliff and jumped off in a spot that was almost straight vertical, I couldn’t believe it I would have had to repel down it.. I just new I would glass him up dead at the bottom. I never saw this buck in the two years there and he never came back. If I wouldn’t have got greedy he would have walk right past my dad and son. I still hate myself for it and this buck will haunt me forever. All I have is this picture

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Forty plus years ago I was tracking what turned out to be the biggest bull I have ever seen.

I kept seeing glimpses of him sneaking through the timber.

Jumped him out of his bed twice.

After about 5 hours, the light began to fade, but I was gaining ground. I saw him stop and turn my way.

I sat down, put my Pre-64 .338 to my shoulder. He was only a bit over 300 yards.

Click.

I didnt pull the bolt back far enough. That 250 grain Barnes X is still looking for him.
 
feddoc said:
Forty plus years ago I was tracking what turned out to be the biggest bull I have ever seen.

I kept seeing glimpses of him sneaking through the timber.

Jumped him out of his bed twice.

After about 5 hours, the light began to fade, but I was gaining ground. I saw him stop and turn my way.

I sat down, put my Pre-64 .338 to my shoulder. He was only a bit over 300 yards.

Click.

I didnt pull the bolt back far enough. That 250 grain Barnes X is still looking for him.
Click to expand...
Hmmmmmm.........?
 
feddoc said:
Forty plus years ago I was tracking what turned out to be the biggest bull I have ever seen.

I kept seeing glimpses of him sneaking through the timber.

Jumped him out of his bed twice.

After about 5 hours, the light began to fade, but I was gaining ground. I saw him stop and turn my way.

I sat down, put my Pre-64 .338 to my shoulder. He was only a bit over 300 yards.

Click.

I didnt pull the bolt back far enough. That 250 grain Barnes X is still looking for him.
Click to expand...
I saw him the other day, he was following the Idaho Potatoe truck up I-70, east of Salina.
 
When I'm home alone at night all the animals I've killed come alive and pound on my bedroom door. They all moan "you fat bastard, I had a faaaaamily".......then I realize it's just the jalapeño, cheddar dog I ate fir dinner honking for the right of way.
 
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In 2007 I took up bow hunting mule deer. I had been on one previous Archery hunt at age 16, but beginning in 2007, I went 5 years in a row. I was with my dad in Central Utah and we were seeing lots of deer, including young bucks, every day. Because of some 4-wheelin we had to do, on day 3 we had to drive out to town to get some gas. On the way back to camp around 2pm, I'm enjoying the beauty when out of nowhere, I spot two bucks laying in the shade about 50 yards off the road.! One was a 24" 4x5 with deep forks and the grayest body Id ever seen in summer. As this was the first time we'd ever hunted the area, I was shocked.!!

I figured they'd jump and run if I just got out of the truck so I had my dad keep going about 200 yards up the empty road. I then got out and decided to move up the mountainside above them, wind in my favor, and still hunt towards them, hoping to get close for a shot. I'd not felt adrenaline like that in a while.!! I began my blind stalk through the Quakies and Ponderosas. As I neared where they were, I had to let a small 4 point move out of my way and he luckily meandered off away from my target buck. I knew I was getting close, and then I saw fuzzy antlers over a small rise as I looked down the mountainside. I was very close. Unfortunately, despite my good position, my target buck was laying safely in his bed... I could only see his head. Just then however, I heard one of my favorite creatures of the woods, a 4 wheeler, coming towards us down the trail. As it neared, the buck stood and moved a few yards. I couldn't shoot due to low hanging pine bows, so I waited until the 4 wheeler was right on top of us, and I made a quick move over a log... my target buck didn't hear or see me thanks to the loud 4 wheeler. Unfortunately, his young buddy stood, looking right at me. I didn't have a clear shot yet, and the younger buck turned and trotted off, right down across the same road I had spotted them from. I drew my bow as I knew the big buck was gonna move and I hoped he'd present a shot. I could see him looking at his fleeing friend with that "what has gotten into him?" look... I thought he might step through some small aspens and give me a shot... instead, he took off at a fast trot... never giving me a shot. Its still my favorite stalk ever.!
 
Year was 2009. I was a senior in high school. Spent all summer in the high country scouting for mule deer and stumbled upon a once in a life time type bull elk in high, remote basin. My attention quickly shift to muleys to this bull, more than just attention, it was an obsession. Still can picture him to this day; complete 7 point, long main beams pushing 60in with the length to match. A bull I truly believe was 390 plus. I spent every free moment of my time that summer hiking into that basin and watching him from a safe distance. Ended up quitting my summer job a week early and not showing up the first week of school of my senior year to kill this bull.
The days leading up the season I watched him like clock work and he was extremely pattern-able. Him and his two buddies would feed out in the basin in the early morning and as soon and the sun would get up they would March themselves down the same path to a patch of timber to bed and repeat the process in the late afternoon. I chose to go at it like I had all summer, solo. I had not told a single soul about this bull other my dad and younger brother and I wasn’t about to share him someone the opening week of season.
The plan was to hike in, bivy out, put them to bed that morning. Get in position and ambush him as he came back out in the evening, kill him, then get cell service and call dad to bring in the horses for the pack out.
Everything went to plan that morning. Watched him and the other bulls trickle into bed about 8:30 that morning and I made the long approach across the basin to get set up in the rocks above them. About half an hour before dark they finally emerged from the timber into the corner of the basin and walking directly towards me. The two smaller bulls up front and the big boy in the back. The two smaller bulls passed by me around 35 to 40 yards but the big bull took a slightly different route at 64 yards. I drew back on him like it was auto pilot and settled in, what I didn’t pay attention to was his front leg was slid back as he was feeding… I pulled through the shot and knew it was good the moment i released it and watched it fall in and hit him. The bull quickly spun a 180 and trotted back into the timber. I was in absolute shock but I felt like I had absolutely 12 ringed him and he was going to pile up in the timber. I hiked up to the top of the mountain in the dark to get cell service and broke down crying telling dad i smoked him and go catch Jasper, Annie and Copenhagen and I’d see him in the morning. I went back to camp that night on cloud 9 that night and didn’t sleep an absolute wink obviously. Dad was so excited he caught the mules/horse that night and decided to ride in, in the dark so he could meet me at first light. We rode up across the basin to where it all went down. I never bothered to find first blood or look for the bull that night. I didn’t want to risk any chance of bumping him. Dad and I walked to where he was standing and found blood. Wasn’t the best blood… dark red with some pink mixed in. Dad didn’t say anything but he knew… we followed the blood to where he entered the timber and I found about 18 to 20 inches of a Easton FMJ broke off. “You hit him in the shoulder didn’t you son?” Is the first thing my dad said to me. I denied and swore up and down I hit him perfectly right on the spot the pin was settled. Well it turns out I did by everything i can conclude because the bulls shoulder blade was tucked back as he was feeding which is exactly where I settled on…..
In conclusion we looked for that bull for 2 solid days and never found him and I most likely didn’t kill him and if i did I never heard a word about anyone finding him because if they would of word would of got around. Learned a valuable lesson about shot placement and angles that day that I will never forget because I learned the hard way…
 
I'll share one of mine. For many years, my family and I hunted deer in the Elko, NV area on large family camps/hunts. We would take whatever deer we could get, as we were all mostly meat buck hunters. I usually only had 3-5 days to hunt because of family or work commitments. It was the last day of the hunt, and my father and I were determined to fill our tags on any buck we could find. As we rode over a ridge, there was a large group of deer scattering everywhere like a covey of quail. We both piled off our horses, and concentrated on two bucks angling away from us- we didn't even take time to tie up horses. Dad downed the first buck, and I took the second. It was nice to see that we had each scored decent 3x3 muleys, and we commented about them being "bookend bucks". What haunts me to this day is that "IF ONLY" we had taken a moment to look around, for as we started dressing out our deer, there at about 50 yds. stood probably one of the biggest bucks I've ever seen- all mass-n-trash, w/cheaters and double-drops! He stood there for about 15 minutes, then slowly ambled away. I can see that buck in my "mind's eye" even to this day! The only double-drop buck I've ever encountered in all my years!
 
forkypete said:
I'll share one of mine. For many years, my family and I hunted deer in the Elko, NV area on large family camps/hunts. We would take whatever deer we could get, as we were all mostly meat buck hunters. I usually only had 3-5 days to hunt because of family or work commitments. It was the last day of the hunt, and my father and I were determined to fill our tags on any buck we could find. As we rode over a ridge, there was a large group of deer scattering everywhere like a covey of quail. We both piled off our horses, and concentrated on two bucks angling away from us- we didn't even take time to tie up horses. Dad downed the first buck, and I took the second. It was nice to see that we had each scored decent 3x3 muleys, and we commented about them being "bookend bucks". What haunts me to this day is that "IF ONLY" we had taken a moment to look around, for as we started dressing out our deer, there at about 50 yds. stood probably one of the biggest bucks I've ever seen- all mass-n-trash, w/cheaters and double-drops! He stood there for about 15 minutes, then slowly ambled away. I can see that buck in my "mind's eye" even to this day! The only double-drop buck I've ever encountered in all my years!
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