I didn’t harvest a deer this season. The Methow units are in desperate need of change, whether through season closures or significant reconstruction—I’ll leave it at that. There was 1–3 feet of snow from the valley up to 4,000 feet, which brought most of the deer down along with the wolves. The best buck I saw was on day one, about 1,400 yards away, and I estimated him at around 160".
I hunted hard all week, covering ground from high elevations down near the highway. I saw about 30 small 3-points and 4-points, but nothing truly remarkable. Even before the last day, we regrouped and decided to go back after the buck from the first day, as he was the best we’d seen. We found him in the morning, not 50 yards from where we’d last seen him. It took three hours to reach him through three feet of snow. When I finally got within 300 yards for a closer look, I realized I had underestimated him—he was much better than I initially thought, likely scoring 175–180". He had tall, deep forks and was an incredible buck.
Unfortunately, with only one opportunity all week, things didn’t pan out. He walked over the ridge and disappeared. There were plenty of smaller bucks I could have harvested, even on the way out, but these tags are special in my opinion. The goal is to hunt every day in pursuit of something exceptional, even if it means going home empty-handed—and that’s exactly what I did.
While I didn’t bring home a buck, I did harvest a beautiful bobcat, which will be mounted as a memento of the hunt. The experience gave me everything I’d hoped for, except for pulling the trigger on a deer.
