Finally back in town and rested up enough to sit down and post an update. Coon Camp Springs had 4 PLM deer tags
this year. We split them between two separate hunts. The first hunt ran from Oct 27 through Nov 2. The second hunt
was Nov 3 through Nov 9. I guided the first hunt and Phillip is still guiding the second one. Paul performed camp chief
duties, cooking, cleaning, tending the constant fire, etc. Bob came up for five days to fill in where needed.
Preparation started well before the actual hunts. A couple weeks in advance, I started putting together pre-made
meals. I made up a bunch of elk goulash, abalone chowder, venison stew and venison chili. All bagged in dinner sized
vacuum pack bags. I also packed some of our blackberries and plums. And of course for appetizers, I threw in some
smoked pheasant and a couple abalone. A couple days before the first hunt started, I started packing. Phillip
volunteered the use of his Samurai "Petunia, so I rented a trailer to transport her on and started packing. Once I had
packed everything I could think of, I headed out in the wee hours of the 23rd. It was a long, slow haul carrying all of
that weight but we made it just fine. Here are a couple pics of the load.
this year. We split them between two separate hunts. The first hunt ran from Oct 27 through Nov 2. The second hunt
was Nov 3 through Nov 9. I guided the first hunt and Phillip is still guiding the second one. Paul performed camp chief
duties, cooking, cleaning, tending the constant fire, etc. Bob came up for five days to fill in where needed.
Preparation started well before the actual hunts. A couple weeks in advance, I started putting together pre-made
meals. I made up a bunch of elk goulash, abalone chowder, venison stew and venison chili. All bagged in dinner sized
vacuum pack bags. I also packed some of our blackberries and plums. And of course for appetizers, I threw in some
smoked pheasant and a couple abalone. A couple days before the first hunt started, I started packing. Phillip
volunteered the use of his Samurai "Petunia, so I rented a trailer to transport her on and started packing. Once I had
packed everything I could think of, I headed out in the wee hours of the 23rd. It was a long, slow haul carrying all of
that weight but we made it just fine. Here are a couple pics of the load.
Now it was time to get the camp ready. After unpacking everything, I had to get the water heater installed, get propane
hooked up to the stove and refrigerator, fill the 300 gallon water tank, hook up the electrical system and get the
batteries charged, and etc., etc., etc. Here are a few pics of how the camp is looking now.
hooked up to the stove and refrigerator, fill the 300 gallon water tank, hook up the electrical system and get the
batteries charged, and etc., etc., etc. Here are a few pics of how the camp is looking now.
On Friday the 26th, the first clients (Jack and Gerry) arrived. Once they were unpacked and ready, I took them out for a
tour of the property. After we got back to camp, they decided that they wanted to do some scouting. As they were
getting ready, I told them that they should take their rifles "just in case". As they were out scouting, they spotted a buck.
It appeared to be a forked horn. Of the two, Jack has the most hunting experience. He has several mounts hanging on
his wall including some P & Y mounts. But, he had never bagged a nice forked horn. So, Gerry started spotting with the
binos and Jack got his cross hairs on the deer. They could tell that he was a nice sized dear and that the main beams
were pretty good for a forked horn. Jack asked Gerry if the deer had eye guards and for a while, Gerry could not tell.
Finally, the buck turned his head just a bit and Gerry said " Yes, he has eye BOOM..... he never did finish the sentence.
The buck dropped in his tracks. Perfect shot behind the shoulder. The slug blew out a rib on the way in, took out the
top part of the heart and left in the under arm on the other side. No meat wasted and no chasing.
tour of the property. After we got back to camp, they decided that they wanted to do some scouting. As they were
getting ready, I told them that they should take their rifles "just in case". As they were out scouting, they spotted a buck.
It appeared to be a forked horn. Of the two, Jack has the most hunting experience. He has several mounts hanging on
his wall including some P & Y mounts. But, he had never bagged a nice forked horn. So, Gerry started spotting with the
binos and Jack got his cross hairs on the deer. They could tell that he was a nice sized dear and that the main beams
were pretty good for a forked horn. Jack asked Gerry if the deer had eye guards and for a while, Gerry could not tell.
Finally, the buck turned his head just a bit and Gerry said " Yes, he has eye BOOM..... he never did finish the sentence.
The buck dropped in his tracks. Perfect shot behind the shoulder. The slug blew out a rib on the way in, took out the
top part of the heart and left in the under arm on the other side. No meat wasted and no chasing.
He probably would have weighed in at 210 lbs. or so. A very nice mature buck with two points and eye guards.
Now it was Gerry's turn. The two of them hunted hard both Saturday and Sunday. I offered to assist but they wanted
to do it on their own. Gerry saw a pretty nice 3 x 3 but passed. Then a 3 x 4 stood up. It was not presenting a
decent shot position and then moved out of sight. Then, they spotted a real HAWG standing on the ridge on the
next property. So, Gerry decided not to go after the ones he had just seen and would wait for the HAWG to come
across the fence. He never did during daylight.
When Phillip arrived Monday night, Gerry was getting a little anxious because they were going to have to leave
Tuesday night or Wednesday morning. So, they asked Phillip to go out with them. They hunted hard Tuesday and
then extended their stay one day and hunted hard on Wednesday. Gerry passed up on a decent forked horn but
never did hook up with the monster that he wanted.
On Thursday morning, Jack and Gerry pulled out with smiles on their faces and requests for two of next years tags.
The rest of Thursday was a rest day for us. We just putzed around the camp and relaxed. I thought about going
fishing but never did get up enough energy. Phillip saddled up his horse Dolly and spent a good part of the day
scouting.
Our next clients, a father son team named Arnie and Josh showed up mid-day Friday. We got them settled in and
then took them out into the valley to make sure their rifles were sighted in. Lucky thing because one rifle needed
adjustment. That done, I took them for the tour. We were not more than a half hour into the tour when we saw a
bunch of does. As we watched them, a nice 3 x 3 came into view. Josh got out of the truck and put the cross hairs
on him. The buck wast quartering away and looking back. A perfect positioning. Josh passed.
They hunted hard with Phillip Saturday and Sunday with no horns in camp. I had to leave Sunday afternoon. I got a
text message from Phillip on Monday that Josh had a nice 3 x 3 down. I am going to leave it here until Phillip gets
back and then I will finish.
to do it on their own. Gerry saw a pretty nice 3 x 3 but passed. Then a 3 x 4 stood up. It was not presenting a
decent shot position and then moved out of sight. Then, they spotted a real HAWG standing on the ridge on the
next property. So, Gerry decided not to go after the ones he had just seen and would wait for the HAWG to come
across the fence. He never did during daylight.
When Phillip arrived Monday night, Gerry was getting a little anxious because they were going to have to leave
Tuesday night or Wednesday morning. So, they asked Phillip to go out with them. They hunted hard Tuesday and
then extended their stay one day and hunted hard on Wednesday. Gerry passed up on a decent forked horn but
never did hook up with the monster that he wanted.
On Thursday morning, Jack and Gerry pulled out with smiles on their faces and requests for two of next years tags.
The rest of Thursday was a rest day for us. We just putzed around the camp and relaxed. I thought about going
fishing but never did get up enough energy. Phillip saddled up his horse Dolly and spent a good part of the day
scouting.
Our next clients, a father son team named Arnie and Josh showed up mid-day Friday. We got them settled in and
then took them out into the valley to make sure their rifles were sighted in. Lucky thing because one rifle needed
adjustment. That done, I took them for the tour. We were not more than a half hour into the tour when we saw a
bunch of does. As we watched them, a nice 3 x 3 came into view. Josh got out of the truck and put the cross hairs
on him. The buck wast quartering away and looking back. A perfect positioning. Josh passed.
They hunted hard with Phillip Saturday and Sunday with no horns in camp. I had to leave Sunday afternoon. I got a
text message from Phillip on Monday that Josh had a nice 3 x 3 down. I am going to leave it here until Phillip gets
back and then I will finish.
Part II , III and IV provided by Phillip
I pulled into camp on Monday night, rolling in on the heels of a screamer of a thunderstorm. The main road was
sloppy, and I had the Dodge locked into 4-wheel low to get myself and the horse trailer up the grade and into camp.
This sloppy mess did not bode well for the hunt, but I made it in and unloaded the horse without incident.
The rain was easing off to a light drizzle as I grabbed my gear and headed into the bunkhouse. A fire was burning
bright in the pit, and Dave came out to meet me with a little glass of anti-freeze…for medicinal purposes, of course. It
was a good night to catch cold, and with almost two weeks in the backcountry ahead of me, I didn’t want to get sick.
I knew that one of the hunters, Jack, had already tagged out on Friday afternoon. Jerry, the second hunter and
relatively new to big game hunting, had passed on some good deer over the week, in hopes of whacking a big boy.
These two had come out and asked Dave if they could just do the hunt on their own, with minimal support. Now, with
only a couple of days left in their hunt, Jerry was starting to feel the pressure. As we got to know each other, I guess
he decided to get all the help he could find, so he asked if I could take him out to hunt the next day. Of course I said,
“yeah.”
Tuesday afternoon found me and Jerry easing down a ridgeline towards the southern end of the property. They’d
seen some good deer in this general area, including one hoss of a buck just across the property line. I knew we
could get up on a good vantage point, and hoped we’d be able to set up on one of those big bucks.
As we crossed the top of a high ridge, I found really fresh tracks coming from a thicket below a rock outcropping. It
was pretty easy to see that this was a bedding area. In the wet ground, there was no question that we were right
behind these deer. My senses cranked up as I slowed our snail-like pace even more, until we were literally creeping
a step or two every couple of seconds, then glassing and looking.
We eased around a rock outcropping and I suddenly froze. Several deer were coming up the hillside from the bottom
of the draw, less than 50 yards away. Jack and Jerry had seen plenty of evidence of rut activity, so seeing these
deer had me at full alert. If there were does, there must be bucks. I motioned Jerry to take up a position on the rocks
to my right, and told him to watch the hillside. I was stuck where I was, since I was pretty exposed to the deer if I
moved. My leg started going to sleep immediately, but I had to hold my position while the deer browsed and ambled
slowly up from the bottom.
A doe and yearling browsed into the open, directly across from us. Pins and needles shot through my leg and into
my butt, but I couldn’t move. Jerry had his rifle up, scanning the hillside for a sign of the big boy. I couldn’t see
everything he could see, and I kept waiting to see the safety come off and hear the shot… but it didn’t happen.
The encounter lasted every bit of fifteen or twenty minutes as it turned out there were six deer in the group and they
were feeding slowly along. They finally got a scent on the swirling breeze or something, and while they didn’t panic
they did pick up the pace and move off around us, actually circling back to the bedding area we’d discovered earlier.
One of the deer was a very small forkie, and while I’m sure Jerry considered the shot, it was definitely not what he was
hunting for.
Jerry and I hunted hard on Wednesday, but except for some does we encountered later in the day, the attempt was
pretty fruitless. The storm, or something, seemed to have driven the bucks off the property. From the
unaccompanied does we’d seen, it also seemed to have shut down the rut activity as well. It was all very strange…
and disappointing too.
The two J’s pulled out early Thursday morning, after good-byes and promises to come down and hunt hogs with them
in Santa Maria (had to twist my arm for that one… not!). I saddled up the horse to do some scouting, and Dave and
Paul tended to camp business and re-supply.
I pulled into camp on Monday night, rolling in on the heels of a screamer of a thunderstorm. The main road was
sloppy, and I had the Dodge locked into 4-wheel low to get myself and the horse trailer up the grade and into camp.
This sloppy mess did not bode well for the hunt, but I made it in and unloaded the horse without incident.
The rain was easing off to a light drizzle as I grabbed my gear and headed into the bunkhouse. A fire was burning
bright in the pit, and Dave came out to meet me with a little glass of anti-freeze…for medicinal purposes, of course. It
was a good night to catch cold, and with almost two weeks in the backcountry ahead of me, I didn’t want to get sick.
I knew that one of the hunters, Jack, had already tagged out on Friday afternoon. Jerry, the second hunter and
relatively new to big game hunting, had passed on some good deer over the week, in hopes of whacking a big boy.
These two had come out and asked Dave if they could just do the hunt on their own, with minimal support. Now, with
only a couple of days left in their hunt, Jerry was starting to feel the pressure. As we got to know each other, I guess
he decided to get all the help he could find, so he asked if I could take him out to hunt the next day. Of course I said,
“yeah.”
Tuesday afternoon found me and Jerry easing down a ridgeline towards the southern end of the property. They’d
seen some good deer in this general area, including one hoss of a buck just across the property line. I knew we
could get up on a good vantage point, and hoped we’d be able to set up on one of those big bucks.
As we crossed the top of a high ridge, I found really fresh tracks coming from a thicket below a rock outcropping. It
was pretty easy to see that this was a bedding area. In the wet ground, there was no question that we were right
behind these deer. My senses cranked up as I slowed our snail-like pace even more, until we were literally creeping
a step or two every couple of seconds, then glassing and looking.
We eased around a rock outcropping and I suddenly froze. Several deer were coming up the hillside from the bottom
of the draw, less than 50 yards away. Jack and Jerry had seen plenty of evidence of rut activity, so seeing these
deer had me at full alert. If there were does, there must be bucks. I motioned Jerry to take up a position on the rocks
to my right, and told him to watch the hillside. I was stuck where I was, since I was pretty exposed to the deer if I
moved. My leg started going to sleep immediately, but I had to hold my position while the deer browsed and ambled
slowly up from the bottom.
A doe and yearling browsed into the open, directly across from us. Pins and needles shot through my leg and into
my butt, but I couldn’t move. Jerry had his rifle up, scanning the hillside for a sign of the big boy. I couldn’t see
everything he could see, and I kept waiting to see the safety come off and hear the shot… but it didn’t happen.
The encounter lasted every bit of fifteen or twenty minutes as it turned out there were six deer in the group and they
were feeding slowly along. They finally got a scent on the swirling breeze or something, and while they didn’t panic
they did pick up the pace and move off around us, actually circling back to the bedding area we’d discovered earlier.
One of the deer was a very small forkie, and while I’m sure Jerry considered the shot, it was definitely not what he was
hunting for.
Jerry and I hunted hard on Wednesday, but except for some does we encountered later in the day, the attempt was
pretty fruitless. The storm, or something, seemed to have driven the bucks off the property. From the
unaccompanied does we’d seen, it also seemed to have shut down the rut activity as well. It was all very strange…
and disappointing too.
The two J’s pulled out early Thursday morning, after good-byes and promises to come down and hunt hogs with them
in Santa Maria (had to twist my arm for that one… not!). I saddled up the horse to do some scouting, and Dave and
Paul tended to camp business and re-supply.
Friday, around noon, our next pair of hunters rolled into camp. Arnie and Josh are father and son, and have spent a
good bit of time hunting together over the past several years. After some introduction and time to settle in, Dave took
them for a cruise to get a lay of the land. As Dave mentioned in his earlier write-up, Josh had a nice 3x3 in his
crosshairs, but it wasn’t the buck he was hunting for. The pair had set their goal on some of the real monster bucks
we’d been seeing and photographing over the last year, and this one wasn’t quite in that category.
My scouting trips hadn’t been very productive up to this point. Sign was still scarce, and most of what I was seeing
looked like does and yearlings traveling together. Where were the bucks? I laid it out honestly to Josh and Arnie.
The hunting was gonna be tough, and we hadn’t seen the big boys since the storm.
Sure enough, our first stand on Friday night showed nothing. We sat tight until nearly dark in a prime glassing spot,
but nothing moved at all. Still, spirits stayed high as we walked back to the truck.
Saturday morning was a bust as well. It started with a SNAFU regarding the time change and sunrise time, so we
actually rolled out an hour earlier than we needed to. It worked out anyway, since we took a little longer over
breakfast than we might have. The ridge we were hunting is usually a deer highway, but since the storm there were
almost no fresh tracks. Shortly after full daylight, a truck rolled through the property. Thinking it was our forester
coming to do some work, I aborted the rest of that hunt and decided to stop back at camp for some sandwiches, then
relocate back out to the glassing point.
Saturday afternoon brought a nice, young 4x4 over the fence and into the area below our stands. After some
glassing, we determined that he was still a youngster, and not the quality of buck they were after. It would have been
an easy stalk and kill, but not today.
Sunday was a different kind of day. The guys wanted to get out and just enjoy some father/son time without me
hanging around. I gave them directions to an area where they could glass for a few hours, then take a long walk
through some good country, then saddled up the horse to scout some areas we hadn’t been to in a while.
The scouting went great, and I found the tracks of a true monster deer, as well as lots of smaller tracks. It looked like
he probably had a group of does he was keeping in his area. Unfortunately, things didn’t go quite as well for my
hunters. My directions apparently weren’t clear, and they ended up in the wrong place at prime glassing time. After
some walking and still hunting, they decided to jump in the truck and do a little exploring on the ranch roads.
Something I hadn’t mentioned earlier is that we’d had some trespassers on the property earlier the previous week.
We’d heard shots and voices, and Paul had seen two Suzuki Samurais come through camp. He couldn’t stop them,
but when a pickup truck came through, he stepped out in the road and confronted a much chagrined trespasser.
This is relevant now, because as the sun was starting to set I decided to drive out and glass a point while my hunters
were in the field. I topped a rise and saw a truck cruising down one of the ranch roads. I went into high-pursuit
mode! In true, Dukes of Hazzard fashion, I went flying down the dirt road, sliding around the bend and careening up
on the “poachers”. It was only as I pulled up next to them that I recognized the truck and occupants… Josh and
Arnie! I felt a little foolish as I explained why I came flying up on them like that.
Nevertheless, when I found out that they were just out exploring, I asked if they wanted to come join me at my glassing
spot. “May as well make the best of the last couple hours of daylight,” I told them.
I sent them up onto a rock ledge about 15 feet above the road, while I sat in my truck to glass. I had soaked my
hunting pants with coyote blood earlier,
and stripped to my sweats, so it was too cold for me to be standing up on the rocks in the evening breeze.
As the evening started to settle, I sat back in the driver’s seat, trying to figure out where I could find a buck or two for
these guys. We were nearly halfway through their hunt now, and hadn’t seen a “shooter” buck. As I pondered,
something caught my eye from across the canyon. I raised my binoculars and saw three does, about 200 yards
across canyon looking right at my truck. That figures, doesn’t it?
As I watched the does, I caught a light colored flash about 20 yards to the right of them and managed to spot a deer’s
rump from behind a clump of mahogany. The body was huge, but I couldn’t see the animal’s head. After a moment,
it raised its head and showed antlers! These weren’t small, spindly, forkie antlers either, but thick beams with good
points. I couldn’t count the points, but this was definitely a good, mature buck.
I figured Josh and Arnie could see the deer as well, and turned to look up on the rocks. I couldn’t see Arnie at all,
and Josh was standing out in the open, looking in the wrong direction. What could I do? The passenger window on
my truck was rolled up, and the deer were looking right at the driver’s side. I couldn’t get out, and I couldn’t whisper
up the hill.
I glassed the deer again, and they were still standing there. I turned back to see if Josh had noticed them yet, but he
was still oblivious. Darkness wasn’t far off, and I was starting to get anxious. I needed to get his attention without
spooking the deer. I waved my hands through the closed passenger window, but of course he didn’t notice.
Desperation set in, and I figured the worse that would happen is I’ll spook the deer… they’re not gonna see them
anyway! I took a box from my backseat and pounded on the passenger window. Josh finally looked to see what the
commotion was. I signaled to him, and pointed at the deer. He raised his glasses, but it was quickly obvious that he
couldn’t see the deer.
I turned to see if they were still there. They hadn’t moved at all! I couldn’t believe it. I turned back to see what Josh
was doing, and was shocked to see him sling his rifle and start walking down the rock ledge to the truck! I guess he
figured the deer were already gone, and by all rights they should have been!
He strolled around his truck, parked behind mine, and headed for the driver’s side. I frantically motioned to him to
stay back, stage-whispering and pretty much totally losing my mind. Through it all, the deer stayed right there,
watching the show. The buck’s head was still down, feeding in the bitterbrush.
Josh caught on, and slipped back around behind the trucks, then came to the front of mine and began to glass. He
still couldn’t see the deer! I finally got him to crawl around my truck and set up directly under the driver’s side door.
Somehow, the deer stayed put through it all. He sat up and raised his glasses. Finally, he saw the does. He still
couldn’t spot the buck.
I turned my glasses back across the canyon just in time to see the buck lift its head and turn away from us. In two
quick steps it disappeared from sight. My heart fell. After all that struggle, the deer were going to walk off and
disappear into the gathering dark.
Suddenly Josh put the binoculars down and raised his rifle on the shooting sticks! I trained my binos on the does,
and saw that the buck had come around the brush and was now standing right in line with them. He was obviously not
a Boone and Crockett deer, but his antlers were as wide as his ears and fairly tall. “Should I take him,” Josh asked
me?
“I dunno,” I answered. “He’s good, but he’s not a monster. He’s out to his ears, though, and pretty tall.”
“Yeah,” Josh agreed. “Definitely out to his ears. He’s not bad. But I don’t know if he’s enough.”
“Well, you know what your standard is. You also know the bucks are kinda scarce this week. It’s a tough call.”
Josh kept the rifle leveled, his breathing steady and deep. I expected to hear the report any second, but he held his
fire. “Man,” he said. “I should shoot him.”
Every part of my heart and mind agreed completely, but I didn’t want him to take a buck he’d later be disappointed in.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” I finally said. “He’s not one of the big boys. You’re on your own here.”
The seconds ticked away, becoming minutes. Darkness was building fast and shoot-time was waning. The buck’s
antlers were becoming a pale blur in my glasses. It would disappear soon. Arnie suddenly came ambling down the
hill, oblivious to the mini-drama unfolding beside my truck. Rocks clattered under his feet as he came down to the
road, and he began to open the back of his truck to put his rifle away. I motioned to him as unobtrusively as I could…
knowing all the while that the deer wouldn’t take this intrusion. It was all over.
Except, it wasn’t.
Arnie saw my gesture and froze, even though he couldn’t see what we were doing. The deer stood there, still as
statues, despite all common sense. I couldn’t believe it.
Finally, I heard Josh take a deep breath. “I’m gonna take him,” he said.
I’ve heard people describe a “flood of relief” at certain events, but this is the first time I think I’ve ever really felt that
sensation. The tension and uncertainty literally flowed down from my head, through my body and left me. Even
though the deer was facing us, I had no doubt Josh could make the shot with his custom .280 AI. My Nikon binos
were losing light, but he was aiming through Swarovski glass with a 50mm bell.
I fixed the buck with my binos and let him know I was ready when he was. At the report, though, the blast from his
ported barrel caused me to lose the picture. When I recovered I couldn’t see the deer.
“I didn’t hear it hit,” he told me. “I think I was on him, but I didn’t hear it hit.”
My heart sank a bit. After all that, did he miss the deer? We scanned the plateau where the deer had been. I
spotted the three does running away, but no buck. That was promising. Then I heard Josh whisper, “There he is. I
think he’s standing there. No, he’s staggering. He’s hit. No, wait, I can’t see him now.”
“Did he go down,” I asked?
“I don’t know. I don’t see him anymore. But he looked like he was staggering.”
I gave Josh and Arnie time to discuss the shot and smoke a cigarette before we went over to look for the animal. By
now it was fully dark, and the waning moon hadn’t risen yet. We’d be tracking by flashlight over lava rock and sage
brush… no easy task. When we reached the spot where the deer had been standing, we could find neither tracks
nor blood. I considered leaving off and coming back at daylight, but with the number of coyotes in the area there
might not be a lot left for us in the morning.
Arnie had veered off from our search pattern. Suddenly I heard his calm voice. “Here’s your deer, Josh.”
good bit of time hunting together over the past several years. After some introduction and time to settle in, Dave took
them for a cruise to get a lay of the land. As Dave mentioned in his earlier write-up, Josh had a nice 3x3 in his
crosshairs, but it wasn’t the buck he was hunting for. The pair had set their goal on some of the real monster bucks
we’d been seeing and photographing over the last year, and this one wasn’t quite in that category.
My scouting trips hadn’t been very productive up to this point. Sign was still scarce, and most of what I was seeing
looked like does and yearlings traveling together. Where were the bucks? I laid it out honestly to Josh and Arnie.
The hunting was gonna be tough, and we hadn’t seen the big boys since the storm.
Sure enough, our first stand on Friday night showed nothing. We sat tight until nearly dark in a prime glassing spot,
but nothing moved at all. Still, spirits stayed high as we walked back to the truck.
Saturday morning was a bust as well. It started with a SNAFU regarding the time change and sunrise time, so we
actually rolled out an hour earlier than we needed to. It worked out anyway, since we took a little longer over
breakfast than we might have. The ridge we were hunting is usually a deer highway, but since the storm there were
almost no fresh tracks. Shortly after full daylight, a truck rolled through the property. Thinking it was our forester
coming to do some work, I aborted the rest of that hunt and decided to stop back at camp for some sandwiches, then
relocate back out to the glassing point.
Saturday afternoon brought a nice, young 4x4 over the fence and into the area below our stands. After some
glassing, we determined that he was still a youngster, and not the quality of buck they were after. It would have been
an easy stalk and kill, but not today.
Sunday was a different kind of day. The guys wanted to get out and just enjoy some father/son time without me
hanging around. I gave them directions to an area where they could glass for a few hours, then take a long walk
through some good country, then saddled up the horse to scout some areas we hadn’t been to in a while.
The scouting went great, and I found the tracks of a true monster deer, as well as lots of smaller tracks. It looked like
he probably had a group of does he was keeping in his area. Unfortunately, things didn’t go quite as well for my
hunters. My directions apparently weren’t clear, and they ended up in the wrong place at prime glassing time. After
some walking and still hunting, they decided to jump in the truck and do a little exploring on the ranch roads.
Something I hadn’t mentioned earlier is that we’d had some trespassers on the property earlier the previous week.
We’d heard shots and voices, and Paul had seen two Suzuki Samurais come through camp. He couldn’t stop them,
but when a pickup truck came through, he stepped out in the road and confronted a much chagrined trespasser.
This is relevant now, because as the sun was starting to set I decided to drive out and glass a point while my hunters
were in the field. I topped a rise and saw a truck cruising down one of the ranch roads. I went into high-pursuit
mode! In true, Dukes of Hazzard fashion, I went flying down the dirt road, sliding around the bend and careening up
on the “poachers”. It was only as I pulled up next to them that I recognized the truck and occupants… Josh and
Arnie! I felt a little foolish as I explained why I came flying up on them like that.
Nevertheless, when I found out that they were just out exploring, I asked if they wanted to come join me at my glassing
spot. “May as well make the best of the last couple hours of daylight,” I told them.
I sent them up onto a rock ledge about 15 feet above the road, while I sat in my truck to glass. I had soaked my
hunting pants with coyote blood earlier,
and stripped to my sweats, so it was too cold for me to be standing up on the rocks in the evening breeze.
As the evening started to settle, I sat back in the driver’s seat, trying to figure out where I could find a buck or two for
these guys. We were nearly halfway through their hunt now, and hadn’t seen a “shooter” buck. As I pondered,
something caught my eye from across the canyon. I raised my binoculars and saw three does, about 200 yards
across canyon looking right at my truck. That figures, doesn’t it?
As I watched the does, I caught a light colored flash about 20 yards to the right of them and managed to spot a deer’s
rump from behind a clump of mahogany. The body was huge, but I couldn’t see the animal’s head. After a moment,
it raised its head and showed antlers! These weren’t small, spindly, forkie antlers either, but thick beams with good
points. I couldn’t count the points, but this was definitely a good, mature buck.
I figured Josh and Arnie could see the deer as well, and turned to look up on the rocks. I couldn’t see Arnie at all,
and Josh was standing out in the open, looking in the wrong direction. What could I do? The passenger window on
my truck was rolled up, and the deer were looking right at the driver’s side. I couldn’t get out, and I couldn’t whisper
up the hill.
I glassed the deer again, and they were still standing there. I turned back to see if Josh had noticed them yet, but he
was still oblivious. Darkness wasn’t far off, and I was starting to get anxious. I needed to get his attention without
spooking the deer. I waved my hands through the closed passenger window, but of course he didn’t notice.
Desperation set in, and I figured the worse that would happen is I’ll spook the deer… they’re not gonna see them
anyway! I took a box from my backseat and pounded on the passenger window. Josh finally looked to see what the
commotion was. I signaled to him, and pointed at the deer. He raised his glasses, but it was quickly obvious that he
couldn’t see the deer.
I turned to see if they were still there. They hadn’t moved at all! I couldn’t believe it. I turned back to see what Josh
was doing, and was shocked to see him sling his rifle and start walking down the rock ledge to the truck! I guess he
figured the deer were already gone, and by all rights they should have been!
He strolled around his truck, parked behind mine, and headed for the driver’s side. I frantically motioned to him to
stay back, stage-whispering and pretty much totally losing my mind. Through it all, the deer stayed right there,
watching the show. The buck’s head was still down, feeding in the bitterbrush.
Josh caught on, and slipped back around behind the trucks, then came to the front of mine and began to glass. He
still couldn’t see the deer! I finally got him to crawl around my truck and set up directly under the driver’s side door.
Somehow, the deer stayed put through it all. He sat up and raised his glasses. Finally, he saw the does. He still
couldn’t spot the buck.
I turned my glasses back across the canyon just in time to see the buck lift its head and turn away from us. In two
quick steps it disappeared from sight. My heart fell. After all that struggle, the deer were going to walk off and
disappear into the gathering dark.
Suddenly Josh put the binoculars down and raised his rifle on the shooting sticks! I trained my binos on the does,
and saw that the buck had come around the brush and was now standing right in line with them. He was obviously not
a Boone and Crockett deer, but his antlers were as wide as his ears and fairly tall. “Should I take him,” Josh asked
me?
“I dunno,” I answered. “He’s good, but he’s not a monster. He’s out to his ears, though, and pretty tall.”
“Yeah,” Josh agreed. “Definitely out to his ears. He’s not bad. But I don’t know if he’s enough.”
“Well, you know what your standard is. You also know the bucks are kinda scarce this week. It’s a tough call.”
Josh kept the rifle leveled, his breathing steady and deep. I expected to hear the report any second, but he held his
fire. “Man,” he said. “I should shoot him.”
Every part of my heart and mind agreed completely, but I didn’t want him to take a buck he’d later be disappointed in.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” I finally said. “He’s not one of the big boys. You’re on your own here.”
The seconds ticked away, becoming minutes. Darkness was building fast and shoot-time was waning. The buck’s
antlers were becoming a pale blur in my glasses. It would disappear soon. Arnie suddenly came ambling down the
hill, oblivious to the mini-drama unfolding beside my truck. Rocks clattered under his feet as he came down to the
road, and he began to open the back of his truck to put his rifle away. I motioned to him as unobtrusively as I could…
knowing all the while that the deer wouldn’t take this intrusion. It was all over.
Except, it wasn’t.
Arnie saw my gesture and froze, even though he couldn’t see what we were doing. The deer stood there, still as
statues, despite all common sense. I couldn’t believe it.
Finally, I heard Josh take a deep breath. “I’m gonna take him,” he said.
I’ve heard people describe a “flood of relief” at certain events, but this is the first time I think I’ve ever really felt that
sensation. The tension and uncertainty literally flowed down from my head, through my body and left me. Even
though the deer was facing us, I had no doubt Josh could make the shot with his custom .280 AI. My Nikon binos
were losing light, but he was aiming through Swarovski glass with a 50mm bell.
I fixed the buck with my binos and let him know I was ready when he was. At the report, though, the blast from his
ported barrel caused me to lose the picture. When I recovered I couldn’t see the deer.
“I didn’t hear it hit,” he told me. “I think I was on him, but I didn’t hear it hit.”
My heart sank a bit. After all that, did he miss the deer? We scanned the plateau where the deer had been. I
spotted the three does running away, but no buck. That was promising. Then I heard Josh whisper, “There he is. I
think he’s standing there. No, he’s staggering. He’s hit. No, wait, I can’t see him now.”
“Did he go down,” I asked?
“I don’t know. I don’t see him anymore. But he looked like he was staggering.”
I gave Josh and Arnie time to discuss the shot and smoke a cigarette before we went over to look for the animal. By
now it was fully dark, and the waning moon hadn’t risen yet. We’d be tracking by flashlight over lava rock and sage
brush… no easy task. When we reached the spot where the deer had been standing, we could find neither tracks
nor blood. I considered leaving off and coming back at daylight, but with the number of coyotes in the area there
might not be a lot left for us in the morning.
Arnie had veered off from our search pattern. Suddenly I heard his calm voice. “Here’s your deer, Josh.”
The next morning, Monday, Arnie wanted to just relax around camp and take it easy. He found no argument from any
of us. Monday evening, we went out to glass from the ridge where we’d seen the four-point, but saw nothing but a
pair of does. Tuesday morning I put them on a high point near camp where I’d seen the monster tracks earlier.
Except for a smallish forkie, they saw nothing and came down fairly early. The two of them went back out on the point
in the evening, while I scouted some new spots.
Wednesday, I had told them about an area that should offer a good morning still-hunt. Since the area was fairly thick,
I didn’t think it would be good for all three of us to try to move through, so I dropped them off at one end of the trail,
with directions to follow the ridgeline south until it wrapped around, then walk back to camp. I then drove up to glass
another area.
About 0900, I spotted movement on the ridge about 600 yards away. As I watched, two does began to feed out onto
the knob, soon followed by a third deer. The sun was right behind them, and it was difficult to see, but there was no
question this third deer was much bigger than the two does. Finally, I was able to make out antlers. I never got a
good count of points, but in mass and width this deer was close to Josh’s buck. I planned a stalk to get within
shooting range, and found a really easy approach below a rise that would put us within 100 yards easily.
Unfortunately, Josh and Arnie were two miles away behind at least two ridgelines. I could neither raise them on radio
nor get over there to collect them in the truck. All I could do was watch as the buck browsed for a while, bedded in the
open hilltop, then eventually took his does back over the hill and out of sight.
Back at camp several hours later, Josh and Arnie reported that, besides tracks and scat, they hadn’t seen a thing. I
told them what I’d seen, and we made a plan to be set up for the evening, in hopes that the deer would be back.
In short, the does did come back, but we never saw the buck. Darkness found us heading back to camp empty-
handed. It was coming to the wire, with only two days left to hunt and not a whole heck of a lot of deer spotted.
Things seemed to be improving, though, with each day bringing fresh sign and deer sightings. “A buck a day,” Arnie
said assuredly. “That’s all we need to see.”
He was upbeat, but I was just feeling beat. This time of year, on this property, we should be seeing more and better
bucks. We decided to start the next morning where I’d seen the buck, and then make our plans from there.
Thursday morning, we watched the hilltop fruitlessly. After a couple of hours, we relocated, heading back out to the
ridge where we’d seen the 4x4. This had been the most consistent spot on the property over the past couple of
weeks, and Josh and Arnie both wanted to spend more time there. Once we got situated, I decided to leave them
while I went to try to find the “magic” hiding place.
I walked up a high ridge in a place that I’d never really hunted before. The ground was rocky there, and didn’t offer
much promise, however, as I climbed higher the plateaus got wider and more wooded. Way up there, I spotted some
dark green foliage. A spring! Deer tracks of all sizes covered the ground, coming and going from this spot.
Excitedly, I dragged out my GPS and marked the spot. As I put the GPS back in my pack, the radio crackled with
Arnie’s voice.
“Phil, do you copy?”
“Go ahead.”
“We’ve got a buck down and need a hand. Can you get over here?”
I wanted to dance. In fact, I did cut a little jig on the rocky ground. I practically ran back to the truck, and made pretty
good time getting over to the spot he described.
It turns out that Arnie had spotted a deer moving across the meadow. When he saw what he thought was a pretty
good, forked-horn rack, he decided it was just “right”. He made his move, and with one shot his buck was on the
ground. It turned out to be a fairly old 3x3, declining in the horns, but still not too bad. Even though we still had one
day left to hunt, he decided to take the opportunity while it presented itself.
Friday was spent skinning, butchering, and relaxing. On Saturday morning, my hunters pulled out of camp. By this
time there was no one left but me. Dave had gone back to work on the previous Sunday, and Paul had pulled out
Thursday morning so he’d be home for his wedding anniversary (he’d have been in big trouble if he missed that!).
I had planned to hang out Saturday, maybe shoot coyotes and take a nice, long horseback ride, then pack up and
head for home Sunday morning. However, the western sky was blackening fast. The road out to the highway gets
really bad when it’s wet or snowy, so I decided to cut my last day short and head back to the Bay Area. My timing was
good, as I entered the front of the rain storm just out of Susanville, and didn’t get dry again until seven hours later
when I pulled into my own driveway.
of us. Monday evening, we went out to glass from the ridge where we’d seen the four-point, but saw nothing but a
pair of does. Tuesday morning I put them on a high point near camp where I’d seen the monster tracks earlier.
Except for a smallish forkie, they saw nothing and came down fairly early. The two of them went back out on the point
in the evening, while I scouted some new spots.
Wednesday, I had told them about an area that should offer a good morning still-hunt. Since the area was fairly thick,
I didn’t think it would be good for all three of us to try to move through, so I dropped them off at one end of the trail,
with directions to follow the ridgeline south until it wrapped around, then walk back to camp. I then drove up to glass
another area.
About 0900, I spotted movement on the ridge about 600 yards away. As I watched, two does began to feed out onto
the knob, soon followed by a third deer. The sun was right behind them, and it was difficult to see, but there was no
question this third deer was much bigger than the two does. Finally, I was able to make out antlers. I never got a
good count of points, but in mass and width this deer was close to Josh’s buck. I planned a stalk to get within
shooting range, and found a really easy approach below a rise that would put us within 100 yards easily.
Unfortunately, Josh and Arnie were two miles away behind at least two ridgelines. I could neither raise them on radio
nor get over there to collect them in the truck. All I could do was watch as the buck browsed for a while, bedded in the
open hilltop, then eventually took his does back over the hill and out of sight.
Back at camp several hours later, Josh and Arnie reported that, besides tracks and scat, they hadn’t seen a thing. I
told them what I’d seen, and we made a plan to be set up for the evening, in hopes that the deer would be back.
In short, the does did come back, but we never saw the buck. Darkness found us heading back to camp empty-
handed. It was coming to the wire, with only two days left to hunt and not a whole heck of a lot of deer spotted.
Things seemed to be improving, though, with each day bringing fresh sign and deer sightings. “A buck a day,” Arnie
said assuredly. “That’s all we need to see.”
He was upbeat, but I was just feeling beat. This time of year, on this property, we should be seeing more and better
bucks. We decided to start the next morning where I’d seen the buck, and then make our plans from there.
Thursday morning, we watched the hilltop fruitlessly. After a couple of hours, we relocated, heading back out to the
ridge where we’d seen the 4x4. This had been the most consistent spot on the property over the past couple of
weeks, and Josh and Arnie both wanted to spend more time there. Once we got situated, I decided to leave them
while I went to try to find the “magic” hiding place.
I walked up a high ridge in a place that I’d never really hunted before. The ground was rocky there, and didn’t offer
much promise, however, as I climbed higher the plateaus got wider and more wooded. Way up there, I spotted some
dark green foliage. A spring! Deer tracks of all sizes covered the ground, coming and going from this spot.
Excitedly, I dragged out my GPS and marked the spot. As I put the GPS back in my pack, the radio crackled with
Arnie’s voice.
“Phil, do you copy?”
“Go ahead.”
“We’ve got a buck down and need a hand. Can you get over here?”
I wanted to dance. In fact, I did cut a little jig on the rocky ground. I practically ran back to the truck, and made pretty
good time getting over to the spot he described.
It turns out that Arnie had spotted a deer moving across the meadow. When he saw what he thought was a pretty
good, forked-horn rack, he decided it was just “right”. He made his move, and with one shot his buck was on the
ground. It turned out to be a fairly old 3x3, declining in the horns, but still not too bad. Even though we still had one
day left to hunt, he decided to take the opportunity while it presented itself.
Friday was spent skinning, butchering, and relaxing. On Saturday morning, my hunters pulled out of camp. By this
time there was no one left but me. Dave had gone back to work on the previous Sunday, and Paul had pulled out
Thursday morning so he’d be home for his wedding anniversary (he’d have been in big trouble if he missed that!).
I had planned to hang out Saturday, maybe shoot coyotes and take a nice, long horseback ride, then pack up and
head for home Sunday morning. However, the western sky was blackening fast. The road out to the highway gets
really bad when it’s wet or snowy, so I decided to cut my last day short and head back to the Bay Area. My timing was
good, as I entered the front of the rain storm just out of Susanville, and didn’t get dry again until seven hours later
when I pulled into my own driveway.
We are still waiting for Josh to send us the pictures he took of Arnie's buck.