I figured this guy to be 195"-210" on a conservative to liberal scale. He also had 4-6" of trash that would hurt his net score. This hog may have been a contender to top the WA State Archery Record of 202". It's really hard to say when it comes down to the gnat's ass. One thing is for sure, this buck is absolutely exceptional in all categories, IMO, except for his rear forks which are still pretty damn good.
Pics and a video are at the bottom for those who don't like a long read. Sorry for the quality. Forgot my digiscoping rig on both trips and had to free hand it.
The Story:I consider myself a trophy hunter. Not in the sense that I care about nothing but the antlers on a buck or bull, but in that anytime I go into the woods I want to kill the biggest and baddest animal around; whatever it may be. I love the hunt and the challenge it takes to not only find, but also kill a trophy, record book animal on public land. My tactics are typically to hold out until the last day and then the old adage, “If it’s brown it’s down” applies because I do in fact love meat. It doesn’t matter if I’m stalking a 180” buck or a barely legal, crab-claw 3-point. Once it’s on the adrenaline is unleashed and for those moments I’m in hunting heaven. Hunting is no doubt my absolute passion when it comes to things of this earth. I’d rather eat my tag in most cases just to hunt longer; which I do nearly every year. In fact, the last thing I killed was a nice bear in 2009. I just love being in the woods.
So my track record as a self-proclaimed trophy hunter is rather unsuccessful in terms of kills. I’ve been bow hunting for 6 years this year and have yet to actually harvest anything with my bow. I’ve passed on many animals looking for that one, big brute that will hurl your vitals into a near-adrenaline-induced coma such that you doubt whether or not you will actually be able to draw your bow when the time comes. I’ve found them on a handful occasions over the past several years, I’ve got pictures of them, put stalks on them, got close to them( but not close enough), and in the end killed nothing. Each of those hunts I consider a great success and can’t wait to try again the next year.
The last four season of late archery I’ve been very fortunate to locate and get on exceptional bucks. In 2012, I chased a buck all season that I figured at 181” on the very conservative side. I took a long shot on him right at dark on the last day and came up with a clean miss. A rifle permit hunter killed him the next year and he was in Eastmans and grossed 204”. In 2013 I found a buck on the 5th day of the season that I figured to be 185”+. He was putting a heck of an effort on the 190” mark by my guesstimate. I got to within about 110 yards of him after spotting him that day. He was on one side of the draw and I was on the other. Nothing more I could do and it was right at dark so I backed out. I never saw him again. In 2014, my buddy and I found a solid buck that we figured to be in the 170”+ range. We made a move at him but realized someone else was already on him so we backed out. That guy came at him up wind and that buck was gone. Now this year; this year was no exception on my annual late archery muley hunt. A hunt I wait for all year…
This year my archery hunt was scheduled to be cut short to only 4 days as I planned on going and helping my Dad with his late Alta Muzzy Tag. I figured I had better get in, chase me a deer, and get out of there so I could help him focus on his hunt. With that in mind, I took off work on 11-20-15 to go up and scout my area for a decent buck to chase on the opener. I glassed about 30-40 does and no bucks by 8:30 am. I was starting to get to the outer range limits of comfortable glassing distance when I spotted a buck about 2.25 miles away. I could easily tell that he was a buck and in my past experience from the previous years, when you can even tell he has antlers at 1.5 to 2 miles away, you’re looking at a monster buck. I got to about ½ mile away to get a better look at him. HOLY COW! This guy was a beast. He was in the 180-190” range no question. I snapped a couple pictures through the spotter and got the heck out of there as fast as I could. I didn’t even want to think about him for fear he would leave the area by the next morning. I had shots of adrenaline throughout the day from just looking at his pictures. Needless to say, my work performance sucked majorly the rest of the day. I would have got more done if I had taken the day off…
Well the next morning finally came and I was at the spot I wanted to be about 400 yards from his finger ridge right at daylight. My plan was to relocate him and then decide what to do. If I just saw him again, my season was going to be a success. I glassed hard, high and low. My Dad joined me that morning and was on an opposite ridge about a ½ mile away trying to spot him from a better angle. An hour went by and no buck. I had picked apart the surrounding hillsides where I thought he’d be to no avail. Finally at about 7:45am, a couple of does I had been watching climb the ridge he was on seemed to magically have doubled. There were more deer I had not seen before on the ridge where he was at. A quick glance through the spotter revealed a dink buck and a doe. Not a good sign of a bigger buck over there I thought. Then suddenly, THERE HE WAS! His giant rack was skylined on the ridge. I could not believe it. He had hardly moved 100 yards from where I saw him the night before. Another doe had spooked them around the hill and he pushed a doe he had with him down into the draw between he and I. He was coming my way! I quickly grabbed my gear and head down the back side of the ridge I was on; periodically popping over to relocate him and his doe to make sure I didn’t lose track of them. I got down to their elevation and was just waiting on them to start up my side where it was perfect for an ambush. This was really my only option with the dry, squeaky snow that blanketed this area.
In the bottom of the draw the buck and doe just milled around feeding in no real hurry to get anywhere. The little buck kept tailing them and that big boy kept a close eye on him, walking him away when he got too close. They finally decided to bed down at about 10:30 am. They were about 180 yards away. There was little I could do but just sit and admire him while relishing in my luck of finding such an amazing animal.
After a couple of hours and several conversations with my Dad, I had finally concluded that we needed to make a move on this guy. Once again, experience told me that being passive here would likely get me nowhere and then I’d never see him again. That doe was the only thing holding him tight to this one area like he was. He was here because that’s where she wanted to be. As soon as she was done with him then God only knows where he would bounce off to in search of another doe. It could be any day now that that might happen. I couldn’t take that chance. I had to do make an attempt on him.
We finally decided that my Dad would go to the ridge opposite me, with the buck in between us, and roll some rocks down the hill in an attempt to gently nudge those deer into moving away from that side and toward me. I calculated this strategy to have about a 33% chance of producing me a shot opportunity. The deer would either head up the draw and toward me, sidehill and toward me, or head down the draw and toward me. The wind was such that I didn’t want to be too low on them so I decided to stay at their elevation and choose the middle option. My backup plan was to cut around the backside if I had to and make a play up or down if needed.
I was all set and signaled Dad to proceed. He rolled rocks for about 15 minutes before the deer finally stood up and started to get uneasy. Then they stood around for another 10 minutes. FINALLY they began moving in a downward direction. I positioned myself along a path I thought they would go which was coming up out of the bottom at about a 30 degree angle. I was on a bench I thought they’d want to cross at. Well, the doe came up out of the brushy draw and then turned and headed down the draw, paralleling the bottom rather than angled toward me. She led the buck right below me, broadside at 100 yards, just 30 yards beyond my max range.AGH! How awesome and devastating that moment was; being so close to that giant and yet so far away. I tried to make a play back around the hill but the brush was just too noisy. I came around the backside to head them off and caught them crossing about 150 yards below me and heading down the ridge to the bottom of the canyon. Nothing I could do but watch them casually mosey up the other side. I watched them for a couple of hours as I hiked back out trying to keep close tabs on them for the next day. They were in some nasty stuff now. Even if I could relocate on day 2 my odds had just plummeted due to the terrain and conditions. I ended up hunting hard for him the next 3 days to no avail; another successful season in the books; just shy of the hunting glory that still yet only exists in my dreams.
https://youtu.be/hixHF2Rk-Bk
