Started with a Fist Fight, Ended with a Stabbing

Opening morning began with an all out fist fight between two grown men over the thermostat setting in a camp trailer. To say there was some major excitement, tension, emotion and anxiety as our Book Cliffs deer hunt began would be an understatement. It took years to build enough points to draw the tag, and expectations and emotions were running high. My wife, two of her brothers, and her Dad had drawn rifle tags for the Book Cliffs, one of the units I manage as biologist.

Tristie's family has a strong tradition of hunting. The deer hunt is an institution in the Warner Family. Typically they convene in Salina Canyon and hunt the general season deer hunt. On those excursions the first (and sometimes only) antlered deer they come across is usually taken. Rarely do they pass a two point, and the hunt is more about meat, family, and tradition than taking a trophy. I realize that everyone hunts for different reasons. The goals and expectations on the exact same hunt can be totally different for two different people. I tried to persuade my wife and in-laws that deep down they were trophy hunters and that this was their chance to finally take some mature trophy bucks. As this hunt progressed I learned that not everyone is a trophy hunter, and that a trophy can have different definitions depending on the person. While my definition of trophy might be a buck with big antlers, to others a trophy might be a buck with an enormous body, or a unique looking rack.

Back to opening morning. Things were still a little tense after the fight. I also was guilty of being a little too anxious and after announcing that "I didn't drive 3 hours and wake up at 5 am to eat bacon and eggs. I came to hunt and it is time to go." I corralled my wife and half asleep kids into the car, passed out some pop tarts and left most of my in-laws sitting around the breakfast table. I was supposed to serve as the guide, but when nobody else was ready to go as first light approached I told them where they could catch up with us and took off

We were looking for some of the bucks that we had seen the day before and sure enough we turned up several decent ones right off. It was hot and dry and the deer were really concentrated around water. The night before Tristie had commented how much work it was to get everything and all the kids ready for this, and that she wanted to shoot a buck and get it over with so she wouldn't have to come back out. I was hoping that she would want to keep hunting and return for the 2nd weekend, but I was sharing in her exhaustion and decided that if she wanted to shoot I would let her. We passed a couple nice 4 points at less than 200 yards. Both were feeding and oblivious to us and let us watch them for quite a while. Tristie had a dead rest and could have easily killed either of them. She surprised me by having a change of heart and announcing that she wasn't ready to take either of them on opening morning and that she would keep hunting.

Opening day came and went without anyone pulling the trigger. One of my bros-in-law, Tyrel, had work commitments and could only hunt opening weekend. Tyrel had always come along on the family hunt, but had never killed a deer before. Tyrel loves to camp, hike, 4-wheel, etc., but when I comes to pulling the trigger it just isn't his thing. Tyrel killed a deer on the 2nd day, I think more than anything to get his Dad and brothers off his back. As they walked up to the deer Tyrel told his Dad, "this is it Dad, don't put me in for any more hunts". Tyrel is happy to come along and be there, but just doesn't want to be the trigger man. My brother is the same way and while it is something that at first I didn't understand, I have come to respect their perspective and appreciate where they are coming from. Killing isn't for everyone, and that's okay. Tyrel took a heavy, mature 3x4 buck. A great first buck for anyone. Probably Tyrels first and last deer. Good work Tyrel! (shown here as modeled by Tyrel's lovely wife Kaeli)

I had to return to work for a couple days and the kids had school. While back at home my father-in-law, Paul, and brothers-in-law, Trent (with a tag) and Matt (no tag, just along to help) kept at it. I got a text from another bro-in-law, Lance, telling me Trent had killed a beast. I was dying to know what kind of buck he had taken. I kept getting reports from my in-laws that Trent's buck was indeed one of the biggest they had ever seen. "He's a monster! He's a toad! He's a Beast!" Finally I got the one and only photo taken with the buck after he was killed sent via cell phone...

Not exactly what I was expecting. The old school hunting tradition had rubbed off hard on my in laws, and they could not get over the body size on Trent's 2x3. Trent had shot it and loaded it whole on his 4 wheeler and ridden on top of it all the way back to camp. When the 4 wheeler rode into camp after dark, Matt's first thought was "oh no, a deer stole Trent's quad!". Trent's buck had an absolute beast of of a body, and the antlers will put all the little yearling 2 points hanging in his room to shame. Good work Trent!

The weather had been hot and dry, but a storm was forecast for Tues and Wed. We made arrangements to have our big kids go home from school with friends and Trist and I took the babies an headed out at 4 am Wed morning. We drove in rain, snow and some serious mud all morning without seeing many deer. Tristie did pass a 25-26" 2 point, but it was slow going. We met up with Paul, Matt, and Trent, had lunch, and then piled in together to hunt the rest of the afternoon.

The sun came out a little and finally the deer started to get up and move. After seeing mostly does and small bucks we saw a big mature buck run across the road. Paul hesitated, and Tristie said "if Dad doesn't want him I'll shoot him" and proceeded to jump out of the car, rack the bolt, shoulder the rifle and take a freehand shot, nailing the buck in the shoulder. I beat everyone up the hill while holding our 1 year old and managed to jump the buck out of what would have been his death bed and force a 2nd shot on the back side of the ridge. Tristie got it done like a champ, and her buck is beautiful with great mass and height. Way to go Babes! I am so proud of my hunting wife!

Paul was the last man standing. The weather had turned and the big boys were starting to show up. He had had some mishaps in the hunt with a pair of over-sized gloves forcing an unexpected early warning shot on a big buck. A couple of follow-up shots at the running buck did little more than put some chinks in his shooting confidence. With his mojo shaken Paul had a couple other close encounters on big bucks that didn't work out. Matt and Trent took Paul back to a spot where he had earlier had a chance at a nice buck. Shortly after arriving they found a buck.

"Is that the same one that was here this morning?" asked Paul "

No, it's a bigger one, shoot it now!" they answered.

Paul shouldered the rifle, took aim, and fired. The buck dropped like a rock! They ran up to check him out feeling relieved. When they got to the buck he was still breathing, and Paul noticed that there weren't any holes in his body.

"Should I shoot him again?" Paul asked.

"No, don't waste another bullet or ruin any meat, I'll just slit his throat" said Matt.

As Matt straddled the deer and began to cut the throat the deer started to stand up. Paul's shot had passed through the bridge of the nose halfway between the nostrils and the eyes. The buck had been knocked out cold, but was far from dead. Matt began the rodeo of a lifetime stabbing the buck in the side multiple times with a 3 inch blade pocket knife as he used every ounce of his body weight to keep the buck from running away. Blood spurted from the half cut throat with every beat of the bucks heart, and a mist of blood and air sprayed from the holes in the lung Matt made with the tiny pocket knife. After a wild ride that I am sure seemed to last much longer than it actually did, the buck finally gave in to blood loss and keeled over. They stood there in shock for a few minutes. Matt was covered in blood, and I am sure they all had more than a little adrenaline flowing. The 4th and final buck was dead, victim of a stabbing, and the hunt had come to a dramatic ending. Pauls buck is an old guy with dark stained teeth worn to the gumline and lots of character in his antlers. An awesome old timer Book Cliffs buck.

It was a great hunt, different than I imagined it being in many ways, but also better than I had expected in ways I hadn't anticipated. I learned that it was futile to try to convince everyone to hunt the same way and for the same reasons I do, and that my way isn't necessarily right for everyone. It started with a fist fight and ended with a stabbing. If a hunt can be described like that, you know it had to be exciting and this one sure was. I can't wait until the next one!