So, it began, or I should say continued. Another backpack hunt lay in front of us. This particular area has held a meaningful part in my heart for years. It is where I took my first archery deer and a place I have spent a good portion of my Dec/Jan archery deer seasons in the past. What the next few days would hold, we did not know. I did know that we would have a great time though chasing rutting bucks. On top of that, I had been seeing a herd of javelina regularly in the area. Lucky for us, Jake had a tag in his pocket.
We were just about done with our hike into camp when I saw movement off to my right. It looked like a deer trotting towards us with its head sticking straight out. An all too familiar sight for me. I just knew that was a mule deer buck pushing a doe right in our direction. So, I told Jake to run up ahead to try and cut them off. This mature 3×3 was hard on the tail of a hot doe and only cared about one thing. He ended up running her right past my brother at 100 yards, followed by going over a nearby ridge. After not too long, I saw another buck, a smaller one, right on the same trail. Now, my brother was closer to where the bigger buck flew by. This put him within bow range of the smaller buck. At 65 yards, the fork trotted right passed my brother and wouldn’t stop for anything. All of this happened probably 70 yards from where we were setting up our shelter, right before the sun went down. Dinner that night was filled with fueled conversations about the coming days. Until then though, we slept.
If there was ever a morning where our optimism was higher than ever, it was on the morning of Day 5. What we encountered the evening before had us stirring with anticipation for the sun to show us the surrounding landscape. Our plan was to set up high and glass a nearby basin that had historically held big mule deer bucks. This is also where I had been seeing the herd of javelina. Through the dark, we made our way up to our perch for the day. This vantage point let us see everything around us, so we would spend the whole day up there if need be.
Shortly into our glassing session, Jake spotted a coues buck with 3 does about 300 yards out from us and closing. A minute after that, I spotted the herd of javelina about 600 yards out. They were just mingling in the bottom of a wash and feeding. A perfect opportunity for my brother to slip in and arrow one. The coues buck and does fed over a ridge, and we lost sight of them. I decided to stay back while Jake went and closed the distance on the javelina. The ridge the deer went over was on his way, so I figured he might just “run into” the buck. If not, the javelina were only a short distance away from there. We fist bumped and Jake was on his way.
Getting to sit up high and watch my brother from a far do something as an adult that has been a part of our lives since we were kids, was pretty cool. I remember when Jake was no bigger than my leg getting scared in the presence of javelina. He would cry and beg my Dad to shoot them while we were on deer hunts. Fast forward and now he is 21 years old, stalking them with his bow. The tables had turned for sure and I was eager to see how this would play out.
Soon after my reflection on the matter, I lost visual of Jake. Inch by inch, I peered through my binoculars searching for him and couldn’t turn him up. Then I heard it. WHACK! From 400 yards out, I heard that glorious sound all of us bowhunters strive for. Not 30 seconds after, my brother called me and told me he had just shot one at 40 yards. He was elated, and so was I. It was time to gather up all of my gear and head over to help him find it and get it cut up. What a great start to the day!
The blood trail was just awesome on the javelina and I knew he wouldn’t be far. 20 yards later, there he lay. A nice mature boar. We laughed, high fived, and took a load of pictures for us to remember this awesome day. I usually am the one cutting up the critters, but for this one, I made Jake do the work. The memory of guiding him through the process is a fulfilling one to say the least. From here we would pack the javelina back to the truck/cooler and then pack back in for the next few days. Days like this day, are the days that we hunger for.
The next few days were filled their own share of opportunities. On one of the evenings back to camp, I actually had a buck and 2 does cross my path at last light. Quickly, I scrambled down the hill to catch up with them. The buck was within bow range, but I just couldn’t make out his antlers with the naked eye. It was just too dark. On another occasion, I ended up bumping the big buck I was after on the way to our glassing spot. This would be the only time I saw him for the rest of the hunt. I did get to watch a coues buck chase down a doe and breed her underneath the shade of a tree. That was pretty cool to see nature doing its thing. That buck was too far out for a stalk at last light, so there he be. My brother stalked a coues buck on our last morning in this area and was JUST outside of his bow range. The stalk went great, but the buck had other plans and left his does. We were ready for a change of scenery, so our plan was to pack out of this area and go hunt another for the evening. That is just what we did.
It was hard walking away from this spot for me. The truth was though, I just wasn’t seeing the amount of bucks that I normally see. I find it fascinating watching how areas might change from year to year, and while this one wasn’t necessarily in my favor, it was fascinating nonetheless. Before long, we were off to find greener pastures that hopefully held more bucks. I’m glad we did.
We arrived at a place that I had really come to know as more of a bear spot, rather than a deer spot. It was easy to get to though, I had seen deer there in the past, and with the fading light, we would at least get a quick evening hunt in to quench our thirst. About 20 minutes into glassing, I really wasn’t feeling this area and wanted to move. Funnily enough, as we were deciding to leave, I look over to my left and see a deer standing out in the open not 200 yards below us. It was a coues doe that had just got up from a bed. We watched as she shook her head and woke up the her slumber. Little did we know, she was not alone.
……that’s a nice coues buck bud!
I spotted movement off to the right. It was a big bodied deer, I knew that. Soon after, I saw antlers, and said to my brother “that’s a nice coues buck bud!” He ended up bedding down, as well as another doe we didn’t see and the one we did see. With a canyon bottom separating us, my plan was to drop down the face we were on and try and shoot the buck in his bed across the canyon bottom. The terrain ended up being way steeper than I thought and I soon felt like I was hunting mountain goats rather than coues deer. This stalk didn’t last long as the buck ended up pushing his does up the hill after getting up from his bed. They still didn’t know I was there, but this is what happens during the rut. I backed out and thought it was all over.
Not long after I returned to the glassing spot, I could see that the buck and does were just feeding up on a nearby flat. I got mad and said, “he’s right there! I’m going!” Round 2 began! My plan was to make a big loop around the herd and come in from above. With any hope, I would see them feeding below me and pull off a nice shot. It took all of 10 minutes for me to cross the canyon and get up the other side in my adrenaline filled approach. I remember my brother saying, “once you pass that cut to your left, they will be right below you within bow range.” I was about to pass that cut….
Inch by inch, I crept my way along the side of the hill. The flat the deer were on was 57 yards away from me. I was close! Waiting above the flat, I saw movement come into view. It was the doe. She saw me and I thought it was all over. However, after just standing there and not moving for a minute, she quickly went back to feeding. Then I saw it. The buck came out from the right and pushed the doe to the left. This put the doe 60 yards broadside of me. “This is actually going to work,” I said to myself. Sure enough the buck walked out just as planned in back of the doe. I came to full draw as he was behind a tree and waited for a clear shot. Seconds seemed like hours, but then it happened. He presented me with a broadside shot and before I knew it, my arrow was in the air. WHACK! There was that sound again.
I have never released an arrow and thought to myself, “uh oh.” Unfortunately, this was the first time that had ever happened to me. Right after the shot, I could see blood gushing out of the deer through the trees after he ran. But it was not where I wanted it to be gushing. It was back. Way back. I had hit the buck in the ham bone actually. This left me perplexed. After so much practice during the off season, how could this happen to me. This is why I prepare so much, to avoid things like this. The only thing I could think was that I didn’t check my level. Disappointment ran thick right then.
My brother got me on the phone and after freaking out verbally about what just happened, told me that the buck had bedded down just 20 yards from where I shot. After trying to creep down and get another arrow in him, I ended up bumping him. This pushed the buck 200+ yards from here and now I was really worried. Quickly, I found my arrow and picked up the blood trail to where the buck bedded. Astonishment struck me as I saw the most blood I had ever seen from an animal. To boot, there was bubbles in it, which usually indicates a lung shot. Right then, I decided to back out. My brother would stay up high and keep the buck in his binoculars for as long as possible. When Jake returned to camp in the dark, he told me the buck had bedded and as far as he knew, never got up.
Those of you that have hunted for a good amount of time are probably familiar with these kind of nights from time to time. Every once in a while, things just don’t go your way out there, and this was one of those times. It rained from probably 10 p.m. until 4 a.m. during the night. All hope of a blood trail was lost for me. My only hope was that the buck truly didn’t get up from his bed.
When we woke up, our visibility was probably 50 yards. This was a problem, because our plan was for Jake to sit up high and guide me to the area the buck bedded the previous night. This would prove impossible with this amount of fog. So, we waited, ate, and drank coffee in the meantime. Jake tried to cheer me up and successfully did when I looked over and saw him wearing a Santa hat as he drank is coffee. Positive thinking is key in these situations and Jake knows that. Hours later, the fog finally started to lift and we were on our way to the glassing point. “Here we go,” I said.
Just as I suspected, when I arrived over to where the buck was last seen, there was no blood. That’s all fine and dandy, but the problem was, there wasn’t any buck either. So, I dropped my backpack at the last known sighting and started grid searching the cut. What was encouraging was there were beds under each and every juniper in that cut. I figured that the buck may have moved up the hill(direction of travel) and tucked up under a tree to get out of the rain. 30 yards up the hill, something just didn’t look right.
To my left, underneath a juniper, there I saw fur. The buck did just what I suspected he would do, and I had found him. Before grabbing the deer, I whooped and hollered at my brother. That canyon echoed with our screams that morning. After dragging the deer out from under the tree, I couldn’t help but shed a tear over this animal. I apologized for the bad shot over and over to him and thanked him for the bounty of meat I would bring home. Because of me, he had to suffer longer than I would ever want. It was hard to swallow, but I was so happy that I had found him. What ended up happening, was the arrow deflected off of the ham bone and shot up into the chest. This was why I saw bubbles in the blood. The hunting gods had blessed me on this one for sure.
My brother arrived soon after and I hugged him like I’ve never hugged him before. If it wasn’t for him, I 100% would not have found this deer. I thanked him then and I am thanking him again now. We took care of this deer with grins from ear to ear. Thankfully, the meat was still fine and I was able to bring it home for many meals to come. As we walked out of those “Misty Mountains” that morning with meat and antlers, I just could not believe the wild ride this week took us for. From all of the close calls, to my brother killing his javelina, to me making a marginal shot on the biggest coues buck I’ve taken. All of the worry and the heartache, paired with the hard work and dedication, ended with huge smiles on our faces and meat on our backs. Jake and I have made it a tradition that when we reach the last few hundred yards and can see the truck, we finish the pack out without trekking poles. The coolers were loaded, packs were dirty, and we were on our way home. The next adventure is on the horizon, and I cannot wait.
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