The struggle bus buck.
Headed out of state for what was supposed to be a 7 day hunt. Picked a spot that looked good on a map and went for it.
Arrived on thursday midday and got camp setup just in time to do some late glassing.
Found a handful of does and could of made a move on a forkie. But the natural movement made me think no one had been in there yet so wanted to see more country first.
Went to bed with dreams of glassing up big bucks in mind. That's when the dream morphed into a freight train that was about to run me over.
Turns out it was a diesel pickup coming down the dusty two track with its brights on blasting into my tent at 1:30am. Needless to say I had a quick coming to Jesus moment.
With the sudden realization crashing down on me that I was no longer alone. I decided to swing for the fences. Head in deeper than I hoped to start off into what I thought was gunna be my best spot for a S wind.
Day 1
Got up around 330, had some instant coffee and took off making the 2 mile trek. As soon as I crest the hill to my glassing spot a buck appears less than 100yrds away. Standing, dang near where I was hoping to park it for the next couple of hrs. Hit the dirt, and grab the binos. Bingo. Nice 3 year old with deep forks. Thought to myself, is it really gunna happen this easy. The answer, no, no it wasnt. Almost immediately does start popping up out of no where throwing me out of sorts pinning me down behind a scraggly looking cedar.
Eventually they all work off down the hill into the valley. Moving into position I was confident I could relocate the buck. Less than half an hr later he makes his apearance. I get the glass on him trying not to lose him in the cedar choked bottom.
Fully enveloped in the task at hand I dismiss the sound of crumbling shale. Being seated on a near vertical drop off the only thought was it can't be. Then again, but this time I had a sinking feeling. Turn slightly off the spotter to see him standing there staring at me at 20 yards. A beautiful fully velvet 4x4, like he appeared out of thin air. He disappeared as fast as he came into life as I reached for my bow.
I was a bit derailed. Kicking myself I get back on the glass. Unable to relocate the buck in the valley but with a idea of where he was. I move 20 yards to try a different angle. This is where my inexperience kicked in and killed my chances. As I'm scouring the patch of trees I think he is in. Suddenly he jumps out of his bed, runs ten yards, looks right up the hillside towards me and runs off. Talk about a kick in shins. Only guess is the sun was glaring off the binos and was casting reflections into his bedroom.
Day 2
Wake up and hit the trail. Spirts high but also wounded knowing a hunt usually goes one of two ways. Either your score right out of the gate. Or things turn into a grind. I try to mentally prepare for the things to come.
After making the mile and half trek I set up and wait for the sun to rise.
Right on cue the chorus began to bellow. What seemed like a sea of bovine appeared in the grey light.
I decided to pack up shop and head back the way I came and went a mile the other direction. Got set up around 830 and immediately turn up some does being pestered by a yote.
After glassing long range for about 30 min. I set down the spotter and in disbelief to my bare eyes the velvet 4 is bedded on a grassy knob 300yrds away soaking up the sunshine.
After an hour he works off to what I hope is his final resting place for the afternoon.
I make my move, take off the boots. Put on the extra thick wool socks to make my final approach. Dang weatherman and his W wind. This shits blowing straight N and off goes my hope's and dreams.
Day 3
Hit the trail. After not speaking a word for about 3 days I'm in my head a little more than usual. Hit the same glassing knob thinking maybe, just maybe. After a half hour realized that was gunna be a bust so I took off for the next drainage that he spoked towards the day prior.
Immediately I'm meet by the velvet 4 and 2 new buddies.
I hit the dirt and observe. For the next 2 hours they feed in an out of various cuts in the landscape. Finaly they disappear into 1 and dont come out.
Booya, here's my chance. In a spot I can get to quietly, wind is perfect and the shot should be under 50.
Make the approach, crest the hill, and theres the forkie standing guard atop the cut. Range him at 55yards. Thinking to myself I just need this little bugger to wander off. And to my astonishment he does just that. Within minutes he is out of view.
Arrow knocked I creep inches forward.
And forward, and forward, and forward.
Astonished I find nothing but empty beds. I try to play catch up and crest the next hill only to see three rear ends parked safely on private just out of reach.
Day 4
Ready to shoot the first spike within range.
Nothing in the a.m.
Back at camp for lunch decide to shoot some practice rounds.
First arrows misses way wide, second dosnt even hit the target. It's a little gusty but what the heck, know I'm not that terrible of a shot. Turns out my serving had splintered and was unraveling catching up in my rollers on the riser.
Whomp, whomp.
Hunt over.
Pack up camp and head the 7 hrs home.
Back to reality.
Edit: truck problems
Half way down the access path my low light censor pops to life. One glance out the sideview proves my decision to skimp on only 2 new tires proves fatal. Well it was a tag or tires and at the time and I rolled the dice.
Made it to the closest town and had to borrow a hammer from a local to pound the tire iron onto the cheap fake metal capped lugs, (all have been changed to solid stainless since). 2 hrs later I'm finally on the road.
After a few days off and bit of reflection.
I could not let 2020 get the best of me, and have the season start and end on that series of misques.
Head back out for one more go round.
Burning my vacation days I had planned for another hunt I had to make this count and fast. Same ground and camp site.
Day 1
Alot of miles, alot of does, no bucks, did find a neat shed. Hoped it was a sign of good fortune to come.
Day 2
Up early and on the mountain with plenty of time to spare. Set up shop and get to working the glass.
Nothing.
Getting a bit restless I start in on my breakfast burrito when I decide to really reach out there with the spotter and see if anything is alive in the next county over, ha. To my surprise almost immediately pick up a doe. Spirts start to lift. Move on hoping to turn up a buck. Nothing
Go back to the doe just so I have something to watch. Dang near spit out my last bite of burrito when I realized she is a he. Could hardly tell from that distance, but whenever the sun glared right I could just make out a set of horns.
Finally a pulse.
To my astonishment this guy decided to bed down directly in my line of sight on the side of a hill. Would of guessed it at 1 in 1000 chances of that happening.
After watching him for about a half hour to make sure he was staying put. I packed up and took off.
A mile later I was standing in my socks. Peaking over the edge wondering where the heck has he gone.
That's when I spot it. His front foreleg and hoof, nothing else. I freeze. The dang thing is right below me but further to my right than I anticipated.
Luckily the wind was strong enough to blow the hat off my head so he didn't hear me readjust my position.
Range finder said 20 yards with a 40 degree angle, cut a few yards and still managed to miss my mark by about 4 inches. Didnt matter as he made it about 8 yards out of his bed before he expired.
If your still reading, thanks for sticking with me, bit long winded. But felt I needed to share the story for someone out there.
Blessed for the experience, probably learned more on this trip than the last 2 years combined. Only advice would be to just go.
Can't wait to get back out.
Edit: should add, this was my first time 1/4ing in the field and packing out. All I will say is, I'm dang glad I had a set of trekking poles.
Edit #2: forgot a crucial part at the the end of hunt 1. Truck problems.