I just have to tell you about my magical 1999 season in which I tagged 3 of what I consider my best animals in 2 states within a span of 12 days. At the time my brother and I had been hunting Wyoming most years in addition to Washington. Wyoming has been good to me over the years--6 deer tags, 1 elk tag, 1 antelope tag and 1 moose tag, all of which I was able to fill relatively easily except the one year when I was trophy hunting for deer, passing up small bucks and eating tag soup in the end.
Back to 1999. My brother held a deer tag that year and I held deer and elk tags. I was particularly excited about the elk tag because the year before when we camped overnight near the top of this mountain...
...we saw a herd of elk with about 15 cows and a nice 6-point herd bull on consecutive days in that big clearing near the top of this mountain...
...and it looked like a good place to start. But first we needed to go after deer.
After 2 days of hard work and no bucks in sight, the two of us had decided to split up at the bottom of a hill, hunt at a very slow pace and meet up at the top. It wasn’t but about 20 minutes later that I heard a shot about where I would have expected my brother to be and I got very excited since if that was him, it would be his first buck. Nevertheless, I figured I would continue on to the top and then go back down to meet up with him and help him drag his buck out. Next thing I know, the biggest muley buck I had ever seen in person quickly scooted up out of the trees from below and headed across the clearing toward the deep forest near the top, no doubt having been spooked by my brother. I was aghast at the sight of him but quickly gathered my senses and took an offhand shot at about 120 yards. The shot seemed true but it took off running, still presenting a broadside shot so I let another round fly and the buck disappeared over the hill at full speed. I started up the hill, my heart racing and found fresh “running” tracks where he had disappeared and began to see a good blood trail. It wasn’t more than 40 yards later I came upon the buck piled up with 2 shots right in the breadbasket. I wanted to yell my elation but thinking better of it so as not to spook anything needlessly. The deer was an absolutely brute in terms of body size and judging by the tooth wear and quality of the meat (rancid!) that buck was very old and I would have to guess in declining health. As it turns out, he was partially blind as evidenced by his left eye which was clouded over and he had a couple major splits in his ears, no doubt he had been involved in his share of buck brawls. He had good mass but I can't help but think he had a more impressive rack in the previous couple of years that had begun its decline. Nevertheless, it scored 168 and change, which to me is a whopper!
It was a warm day and the first thing on my mind was to gut him and get him cooled down ASAP to preserve the quality of the meat. And then it had occurred to me that for the first (and last!!) time in my life I had gone on a hunting trip and left my camera at home. Holy crap, you’ve got to be kidding me!
After dragging my buck down the mountain I met up with my brother who did indeed have a buck of his own. Nothing to write home about, a small yearling 2-point, but I remember being equally elated at his animal because I know he hunted a lot of years before finally getting his first buck.
It wasn’t until we got back in town that I was able to purchase a cheap disposable camera and take a few pics because my brother didn’t have a camera with him either. It still haunts me that I don’t have a picture where the buck lay after he died and provides the motivation to always remember my camera in the future
So, after a day of rest, well fly fishing for cutthroats in my favorite spring creek actually (man, I love Western Wyoming!), we headed out the next day in search of my elk. I was down to 2 hunting days left before having to pack up and head for home so I was a little concerned about filling the tag at all. We headed out in the dead of night to the appointed campground in the mountains to begin the long hike to the place where we had seen the elk herd the year before and just as we arrived in view of the clearing way up on the hill it was beginning to get light. And wouldn’t you know it, that herd of elk (minus the big bull) was right there in the same spot as last year! It was a steep hill and at darn close to 10,000’ the elevation didn’t help matters much for trying to sneak up on the herd before they headed into the deep woods. I had my brother stay at the bottom and keep an eye on their movement while I trudged up the hill trying to keep myself concealed and quiet. It would be no easy task due to swirling wind and I knew eventually they would catch my scent, but I was a man on a mission. Nearing the clearing I could hear that the herd has spooked and they were moving across the hill to my right. I ducked into the trees and found a narrow shooting lane through the forest and began to see them running single file broadside across that shooting lane headed for deeper woods. Completely out of breath due to hiking up the hill, the elevation and general excitement I knew this was going to be a tough off hand shot at about 100 yards. I was able to stop them briefly with a cow call but soon they started running again. Knowing my tag was for any elk I would be taking a shot at one of the running bodies and hope for the best. At the crack of the rifle one fell immediately to the earth and I bent over to catch my breath for a few minutes before cautiously continuing up the hill. It turned out to be a spike in full velvet, my first elk. And although it wasn’t the big bull I had dreamed of I was elated once again. Until, that is, I remembered that all I had for a camera was that stupid disposable. Turns out it didn’t do so well in the morning low light conditions of the forest. Sheesh. Oh, and by the way, one of the spikes broke off at the base when this guy hit the ground so I'm carefully holding it up in the picture trying hard not to overestimate the huge spread.
But we would leave Wyoming having filled 3 of 3 tags and we were able to fit in a couple days stream fishing and we were pretty happy about that. Next would be deer hunting in Washington.
I had been hunting this particular area of South Central Washington for a couple of years at the invitation of a friend and had just the year before found one particular location 2 miles away from camp that has turned out to be just phenomenal over the years. It’s a magnet for deer and a fantastic funnel where they run back and forth on opening morning and it’s not unusual to see 10-15 bucks and 40-50 does before noon on opening day and believe it or not I usually fill my tag in the first 10 minutes of the season in a 100 yard radius! The deer in this area look like blacktails but no doubt have mixed genes with mule deer, although the rack sizes generally are not much to write home about.
But anyway, I was sitting alongside what has become my favorite rock when a herd with 2 good bucks and a few does ran over a saddle and down into my little ravine at full speed and provided just enough time for a well-placed bullseye in the bigger of the bucks just as he was nearing the bottom and he took a tumble. It’s not huge by any means, but it’s my biggest blacktail(ish) to date, scoring about 93 as I remember.
I won’t go into great detail about this year’s much bigger buck in that same spot but suffice it to say that he was feeding 250 yards away from “my rock” just as I arrived on opening morning and after catching my breath from the 2-hour hike in the darkness I had neglected to account for bullet drop and the shot passed through the sternum. He bucked and ran over close to my very lucky nephew and laid down because he was a hurting unit, allowing my nephew to walk over and finished him off. What could I say, I should have made a better shot and put that buck down where he stood. A little sour grapes on my part because that would have been my biggest Washington buck...but not a bad buck for a young fella, eh? I'll bet he wants to go hunting with me again this year.
But you know, as much as I love my magic deer area, I’m looking to get back into mule deer hunting in Eastern Washington which I haven’t done since before it went to 3-point or better years ago. I have 3 areas on my short list and I just need to do some serious scouting so I can find at least a “half magical” area with a good chance at big bucks and without an abundance of hunters (I know, good luck!).
