Andrew12gauge
WKR
- Joined
- May 17, 2015
- Messages
- 726
Well I don’t know where or how to start, the season went pretty much nothing like I expected. I spent more time scouting this year, the weather lined up perfect(ish), I was more prepared than ever before and had every intention of taking home a big mature muley. Packed into my spot with a buddy Thursday, saw a few deer that evening, good sign for morning. Friday morning rolls around and we are seeing deer and lots of them, but all does, then finally about 8:30 am 2 bucks, not the big mature ones I was after. Oh well my buddy is after his first buck so off we go. We closed to within 155 yds but he just couldn’t get a good rest. Oh well we are going to see more and better over the next 3 1/2 days. Rest of day Friday doe party and a few spikes and forks sprinkled in, then finally at last light there he is, 1 1/2 miles away, but I can see his antlers through only binos so that is a good sign for tomorrow, right.
Saturday morning we rolled from our tents invigorated and ready to find the bucks. Early morning glassing produced more and more of the same, lots of does and fawns and the occasional spike or fork, ok let’s go burn some more boot leather and find the big boys. About a mile from camp buddy finally gets his first buck, a small forky but he is glad to fill his freezer. Most of the rest of the day is taken up with skinning/quartering/packing that buck but we did glass up the usual array of does and forkys.
Sunday morning, glass, glass, glass. Same story more does more spikes and forks. I’m over it. Let’s pull up stakes, I probably have as good of a chance to kill a big one close to home in the low country. On the way out a forky decides to stand broadside well within range for seemingly an hour(ok it was really only 10 minutes) tugging at my inner meat hunter, “no I would rather shoot a doe in late archery than the little buck.” Last saddle before we reach the vehicle, 2 medium bucks sparring up on the ridge, decision time, do I go after them and burn the last of the light for today and the last energy I likely have for this hunt or pass. “I’m after a big mature buck and those aren’t it.” Headed out, we will truck camp in the desert and get in a good evening and morning hunt. By the time we hit the fork in the road to head for the desert 3 hrs later we both miss the comforts of home too much. We will reconvene in the morning for one last hurrah. As an added benefit I got to make it to my 14 yr old nephews belated birthday celebration(which I had completely forgotten about).
Monday morning, alarm at 5:25, dressed and out the door by 5:45. Sausage McMuffin w/egg on the way out of town(I know it’s bad for me). Pull up to the spot at 7:15 first light isn’t until 7:49, we will go a ways before first light. Started pushing little draws and ravines and found more of the same, lots of does, minus the spikes and forks. Before we know it’s almost 11, let’s head toward the truck, season is over, oh well I will find a way to fill my tag, maybe a short range doe or late archery. Last 300 yards to the truck across a pretty open sage flat. We start theorizing on whether the deer in the area are all year round residents and if it is better to hunt early in the season or late, mind you this conversation is being had at nearly full volume, after all no mature buck in his right mind is bedded within 300 yds of my truck. Suddenly he materializes from the sage. A hail mary shot, I should know better but buck fever got the better of me, I should’ve tried to whistle or grunt him to a stop. Now we give chase, running to try and see where the buck goes. Buddy says there he is, but all I see is a doe going to the left, “just a doe” I say and we keep looking. Another doe goes left. Buddy says I definitely saw his antlers headed to the right, “I saw his does headed left, besides there’s a road right there, no way he went right” we work around the bluff to the left. Now I’m really kicking myself. Oh well season is over let’s head to the truck.
I started the truck and drove back out to the main road, decided we should just go check and see if maybe that buck decided to hole up over there. 1/2 mile down the road my buddy says, there’s a doe. “Stupid does always standing out in the wide open during general season” we rolled on about 50 feet more and there he is, bedded right around the bend from the doe. Slam on the brakes and put it in park. Out the door, chamber a round, surely he’s off and running by now. Off the road, hit a knee, center the crosshairs, squeeze.
Sometimes it really is just better to be lucky than good
Sorry this is the only field photo
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
Saturday morning we rolled from our tents invigorated and ready to find the bucks. Early morning glassing produced more and more of the same, lots of does and fawns and the occasional spike or fork, ok let’s go burn some more boot leather and find the big boys. About a mile from camp buddy finally gets his first buck, a small forky but he is glad to fill his freezer. Most of the rest of the day is taken up with skinning/quartering/packing that buck but we did glass up the usual array of does and forkys.
Sunday morning, glass, glass, glass. Same story more does more spikes and forks. I’m over it. Let’s pull up stakes, I probably have as good of a chance to kill a big one close to home in the low country. On the way out a forky decides to stand broadside well within range for seemingly an hour(ok it was really only 10 minutes) tugging at my inner meat hunter, “no I would rather shoot a doe in late archery than the little buck.” Last saddle before we reach the vehicle, 2 medium bucks sparring up on the ridge, decision time, do I go after them and burn the last of the light for today and the last energy I likely have for this hunt or pass. “I’m after a big mature buck and those aren’t it.” Headed out, we will truck camp in the desert and get in a good evening and morning hunt. By the time we hit the fork in the road to head for the desert 3 hrs later we both miss the comforts of home too much. We will reconvene in the morning for one last hurrah. As an added benefit I got to make it to my 14 yr old nephews belated birthday celebration(which I had completely forgotten about).
Monday morning, alarm at 5:25, dressed and out the door by 5:45. Sausage McMuffin w/egg on the way out of town(I know it’s bad for me). Pull up to the spot at 7:15 first light isn’t until 7:49, we will go a ways before first light. Started pushing little draws and ravines and found more of the same, lots of does, minus the spikes and forks. Before we know it’s almost 11, let’s head toward the truck, season is over, oh well I will find a way to fill my tag, maybe a short range doe or late archery. Last 300 yards to the truck across a pretty open sage flat. We start theorizing on whether the deer in the area are all year round residents and if it is better to hunt early in the season or late, mind you this conversation is being had at nearly full volume, after all no mature buck in his right mind is bedded within 300 yds of my truck. Suddenly he materializes from the sage. A hail mary shot, I should know better but buck fever got the better of me, I should’ve tried to whistle or grunt him to a stop. Now we give chase, running to try and see where the buck goes. Buddy says there he is, but all I see is a doe going to the left, “just a doe” I say and we keep looking. Another doe goes left. Buddy says I definitely saw his antlers headed to the right, “I saw his does headed left, besides there’s a road right there, no way he went right” we work around the bluff to the left. Now I’m really kicking myself. Oh well season is over let’s head to the truck.
I started the truck and drove back out to the main road, decided we should just go check and see if maybe that buck decided to hole up over there. 1/2 mile down the road my buddy says, there’s a doe. “Stupid does always standing out in the wide open during general season” we rolled on about 50 feet more and there he is, bedded right around the bend from the doe. Slam on the brakes and put it in park. Out the door, chamber a round, surely he’s off and running by now. Off the road, hit a knee, center the crosshairs, squeeze.
Sometimes it really is just better to be lucky than good
Sorry this is the only field photo
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
