Back from Idaho, big buck down and the best shot I ever missed

[7mmfan]

This was our second year going to Idaho, and with what we learned last year, we felt we would be very successful this time around. In some ways we were. We had a game plan on where to concentrate, some ideas on how to get away from people, and the want/will to get away from the roads. I had just a deer tag, and my Dad and buddy (Fisheral87) had just elk tags.

We drove through the night Thursday night and rolled into camp early Friday morning. We spent that day setting up, cutting firewood, and doing some evening glassing. That was a productive night.

Saturday, we glassed at first light, noting some animals in the same places from the night before, then commenced a death march into an area that I glassed a couple of decent bucks in the morning. This would come back to haunt me. We found a lot of deer that night, but no bucks.

Sunday morning, opening day for elk, started with glassing for the first couple hours. We found a few different herds of animals and picked one herd that we had seen in the same spot all 3 days, and made a plan to go after them. An hour later we were at the gate and started walking the 6 miles in to the ridge where they had been. We ran into a father/son combo that were back packing into the same spot, but after talking for a while, we established a plan that would be beneficial for everyone. It was great to work with other hunters in the field vs. having to deal with the “me me me” attitude that I often run into here in WA.

As we rounded the last corner coming to the end ridge we wanted, we entered a burned section of timber. We noted a guy down in the burn a couple hundred yards and upon closer inspection, we saw he had a nice bull down. As it turns out, they had 2 bulls down, and they had indeed come out of the herd we had been watching further down the ridge. The tracks in the snow told the whole story.

A little deflated, we continued on with our plan, as we knew there were a lot of elk around, and chances were high we would see them. My Dad and buddy spread out on the end ridge to sit until dark, and I took off to look at new ground. I had been gone an hour and a half or so, and I received a text telling me to come back. I thought I had heard a shot, but couldn't tell where it had come from. I assumed it was them, and took off down the ridge mentally preparing for the pack out! But when I got to their area, there was my Dad, sitting under his tree still, giving me a bewildered look. Then I noticed my buddy further down the ridge waving me in. As I neared him, 2 bucks I hadn't seen, a small 4 pt and 3 pt, got up and moseyed into the timber before I could get a shot. I looked back at my buddy and he gave me an agitated "get down here now!" wave. I hustled down and he informed me there was a big 3x4 in the next draw. He wasn't sure it was what I wanted, but he wanted me to make that decision.

I'm not a picky hunter, never have been. If it's legal, it usually dies. I had decided I'd probably even take a nice 2 pt on this trip if it presented itself. As I inched to the top of the ridgeline we were on, I noticed several deer across from me, 125 yards away. The one lowest on the hill was the 3x4 he was talking about. He had nice forks, and width, probably low 20's wide. I made a small move and got steady on my shooting sticks. It was a steep downhill shot and he was facing me at an odd angle. I waited for him to turn held slightly high on the chest so the bullet path would do maximum damage. KABOOM! The 7 mag roared to life. There was big thud and a large cloud of dust erupted from the hillside just over the bucks back. He stood there, looking just as confused as I was! What had happened? All my practice, I knew the gun wasn't off. All I could decide was the elevation (7000' or so), and the steep downhill angle had caused me to hit higher than I expected.

I frantically chambered another round, but they had had enough. My buck and another dozen deer bounded down the draw and out of range. I was sick. How could I have blown that?! But WAIT! I watched the buck turn left, and start up the next draw. Redemption awaited me over the next ridge! I hustled over and slowly peaked over the ridge line. I was not prepared for what I saw. There were north of 30 deer in this draw and at least half a dozen bucks. I knew I had missed the first deer cleanly, so I immediately began looking this group over. Highest on the hill this time, stood the biggest buck in the group. I didn't know how big he was, I didn't take the time to scrutinize him. I couldn't believe they were still there after I had just shot a couple hundred yards away! I picked him as my target, slid down hill behind some burnt timber and shuffled out into shooting position. The deer were calm, most were feeding, so I took my time. I adjusted my shooting sticks to the perfect height. Double checked my dial to make sure it was set appropriately, and then held and squeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzed the trigger. KABOOM! Maggy roared a 2nd time. The buck dropped in his tracks, like someone had yanked the rug out from under him. He slid downhill a couple feet, and never moved again.

Complete and utter chaos ensued. Deer running this way, deer running that way. A SUPER tall 4 pt ran to the top of the ridge 40 yards from me and stood there staring at me, like he was trying to figure out how this burnt stump and had just made such a ruckus. I took a deep breath, stood up, and began the descent down to my buck, laying 200 yards away. It felt strange walking through so much chaos. Deer running all over the place, totally confused, all the while, there were 2 points that stayed constant. My buck and me. It was calming actually.

I crossed the bottom and began side hilling toward him when I saw his antler sticking up out of the grass. I paused, and took a picture, and it was then I realized, "Hey, this is a big buck." I got closer, and thought, "Jeez, this is a really big buck!" And when I got to him, I realized he was by far the biggest buck I'd ever taken. I sat with him for a moment, soaking in the reverence of his awesomeness. The sun had just set, the light was beautiful, and the wind was calm. I sat quietly for some time until I noticed my partners working their way down the hill.

This moment in the hunt is my favorite and least favorite all at the same time. It's about this time that the adrenaline of the shot is wearing off, and the remorse of taking such a beautiful animal begins to creep in. As I've said before, I never regret killing an animal, I'm a hunter, it is what I do. But I do have an immense amount of respect for them as beings, and autonomous creatures, and the taking of their lives shouldn't be taken lightly. I always do my best to give them the respect they deserve.

As my Dad and buddy approached, they asked what had happened, assuming I'd had to pursue and make a follow up shot. I told them, "I missed the first shot completely, and I was DANG glad I did! That was the best shot I've ever missed!" Everyone enjoyed the view for a few minutes, and pictures were taken, but darkness was closing in fast. We made short work of quartering him, leaving hardly enough for the birds and coyotes bother with, and started up the ridge in the dark at 8:45 pm.

This is where the death march from the day before came back to haunt me. At the end of that hike, we had descended down a mountain side for at least a couple thousand feet, much of it extremely steep and rugged. My left knee was bumming, but as we started up that hill, it all but gave out. I borrowed my buddy's trekking poles, and they may have been the only thing that got me to the road at the top of the ridge. I couldn't bend my knee, but if I hit the ground with it straight it sent pain shooting into my feet and up into my back. The next 6 miles on the road took 2 hours. We then had to chain all 4 to get down off the mountain because the compact snow was now a sheet of ice. We got to camp at 1:30 am, choked some food down, and hit the sack.

I was camp bound effectively the rest of the week. I made some excursions that I shouldn't have, including a 1500' ascent and descent after a herd of elk with my guys. They hunted their hearts out the rest of the week, with lots of encounters, and some missed opportunities. Alas, Saturday morning came and we hit the road for home with my buck being the only tag filled. I processed the meat last night and after trimming, walked away with 87# of edible meat. What a buck!

[vandeman17]

that's a great buck. Nice job. Beautiful country too!

[skeeter 20i]

Epic.  Congrats man sounds like it was a hard earned experience that you enjoyed.

JM

[DOUBLELUNG]

Congratulations on a great buck.  Really like your attitude toward the quarry.

[WapitiTalk1]

Yes!  Congrats buddy on a great hunt and very, very nice buck.  RJ

[Skillet]

Well done!  Great write up, great pics. 

[trophyhunt]

Great story man, and congrats on a sweet azz buck!  You don't need my sweet spot in Washington anymore!!  Lol.  Looks like you guys found a deer unit for life! 

[Brushbuster]

Great story & write up!  Beautiful Buck. 

[full choke]

Great story!
Thanks for taking the time to share!

[Timberstalker]

Awesome write up, and what a great buck!

You've had one helluva year.  Congratulations.

[elkboy]

7mm, thanks for the great write-up and photos!  I really appreciate your attitude towards the game animals.  Enjoy that beautiful mulie buck!   

[jmscon]

Congratulations on a great buck.  Really like your attitude toward the quarry.

[pd]

I like how you squeeeeeeeeeezed the trigger.

[Widgeondeke]

Congrats on a great buck, but....How's your knee? any lasting affects?

[7mmfan]

Congrats on a great buck, but....How's your knee? any lasting affects?

Knee felt good yesterday, but I woke up in the middle of the night and it was super sore. It popped a fair amount today,  but minimal pain. Just giving it some time for now.