How to become infamous while deer hunting....the 300 pounder........

[Moosehunt]

“The Fallen”

Part 1

“If you were bleeding, you’d be dead” stated the paramedic.  These were harsh words as the demise of my hunting season began to sink in.  It all started back in May of this past year as I had applied for a Washington State multi-season deer tag.  After the excitement  of learning I had been selected in the left-over draw, plans were made to hunt Almota Canyon in Whitman County, something I had been doing for nineteen consecutive years.  

October finally arrived and opening day was upon us.  The only thing different about this year was the fact that I was looking for a real trophy deer.  As was usual, my hunting party made its’ way from Pullman to the Snake River breaks.  It was a rather cold morning, a temperature in the 20’s.  I had hiked into the canyon about a half-mile from the trucks.  After surveying the area, I chose to take a sedentary position along a fence line over looking many travel corridors and acres of dark canyon.  As the sun began to creep into the canyon, deer began to appear.  Looking for a particular deer, I passed on a few small bucks.  I remember watching what I believed to be a three-point mule deer when a shot rang out up a canyon across from me a half-mile away.  I changed position to get a view of this particular area and heard a few more shots.  

A quick once-over through my binoculars revealed a fairly large mule deer buck on a dead run in my direction.  I kept watchful eye of the deer as it made its’ way closer and closer.  Blood!  I could see it on the deer as it ran at full speed.  At this point, I knew that the deer was hit but not good enough to make an efficient kill.  I looked for the hunter who fired the shots and found three orange-clad men making there way back to the top of the canyon.  These hunters had no idea where the deer was, let alone that one of the shots connected.  The bloodied deer continued the high-speed escape in my direction, soon to be in shooting distance of my position.  After brief discussion with myself, I decided to try to put this deer down for good so the other hunters could recover their quarry.  

As I steadied for a long-distance attempt, I tried to stop shivering from the cold.  Shot one..miss, shot two...miss, shot three….miss.  After another discussion with myself, my shooting ceased and I decided to watch the route of the deer and determine where it would go.  I took a quick look for the three hunters and found them making their way out of the canyon and heading back towards the road.  Just my luck, I was left with a wounded deer and a dilemma.  Did I want to chase after this wounded deer and potentially end my deer hunting season?  I hiked out of the canyon and met with my hunting partner, Scott, and my father.  A brief discussion ensued and a decision was made.

Entering the steep canyon, I searched for a route to hike towards the wounded deer.  Having been in this particular canyon many times before, I knew I needed to follow cattle trails that zigzagged to the bottom.  The descent began and before making it a quarter of the way down, I had already slipped and slid 20 yards on patches of bunch grass.  I was able to get my footing and remember telling myself, ‘Slow down Dave, take your time!”  I continued to follow trails left and right and made my way farther down.  Keeping a watchful eye for the deer and where my partner was, I neared an area where the canyon got steeper.  The angle was 60 degrees and only 40 yards from the basalt creek bottom that carved a route through the area.  I was on a well-used trail of bare dirt and found a feeder path where  the two crossed.  I stepped off the trail with my right leg and as soon as my foot hit the ground the trail collapsed into a fairly deep hole.  That hole was the bullet that ended my season.

POP! CRACK!! SNAP!!!  These were  the rapports of my leg breaking as my body spun around to face uphill.  At that very moment, every thought, dream and desire for a trophy mule deer came crashing down and so did I.  In that instant, I started tumbling downhill towards the creek bottom. Forty yards, tumble! Thirty yards, tumble! I see some brush!  Twenty yards, tumble!  Grasping for anything to slow me down, I was finally able to hold onto what seemed like twigs and come to a stop.

Part 2  "The Rescue" is yet to be written, but here are some of the pictures that hopefully sum up the event.  Enjoy!!

[rasbo]

that hurts just reading it.I would have went back for the deer also

[BLKBEARKLR]

Same here, that sucks for the breaking of the leg part but I would have gone in after the deer also.

[7mag.]

that hurts just reading it.I would have went back for the deer also

   You can't leave a wouned animal to suffer if you can help it, no matter who shot it.

[Huntbear]

that hurts just reading it.I would have went back for the deer also

x4

[Moosehunt]

Here are a few more pictures.....

[rasbo]

wow..cant wait for...the rest of the story

[Moosehunt]

And a few more.....the rescuers were pretty happy to see the helicopter too!!!

[stlhdr1]

Wow, great read..........

Keith

[bowhunterforever]

that hurts just reading it.I would have went back for the deer also

 

[bobcat]

That's too bad you had to ruin your season like that.

Do you have any more pictures of the cute blonde?  

[bow4elk]

Hope you healed up and are back in gear this fall.  You made the right call in pursuing that buck.  You had no way of knowing what the other three guys were going to do, but at the very least it's likely you'd have figured out if they'd recovered him or not.  Also a good reminder to always let someone know where you plan to be hunting, especially on solo hunts.

[zackmioli]

ouuuuch! hope you are recovered and ready for this season!  great write up!

[scroder]

Good story! can't wait to hear the ending. hope you are back on your feet.

[scoyoc5]

wow... man that sucks. hope you healed up for this year