So I spent last week in western Idaho. It was beautiful weather...for camping. Deer weren't moving, so we had to hunt to get them up. Not easy. I put down what seemed like a million miles on my feet, and I ended up seeing over 30 deer on the first day with seven young bucks. I passed on all of them.
Every day was dry and crunchy with T-shirt weather and full moon. The deck was stacked against us. The one good thing was an ATV trail was gated at the trailhead, cutting off access for most hunters. Not dad and I. He can't hike as far as he used to, but I made use of it. I finally got to see a nice four point buck after jumping him in his bed, but I didn't pull the trigger. I'm still kicking myself for that.
I'm not sure why I didn't shoot him.
But I got a nice consolation prize. The next day I stumbled across a large black bear foraging on a bare sidehill at 1145 in the morning. Two shots and he was down. He ended up stretching about six feet and weighed about two hundred pounds, give or take. I wish I would have got a good buck, but I can't complain about my first bear!
Picture is forthcoming. Having computer problems...
