Back to the Books

After a hunt ends often one of the thoughts that often crosses my mind is "I wish I could do that again knowing what I know now".  Typically with a hard to draw tag a "do over" isn't usually an option, at least not without a looooong wait to draw the tag again.  Luckily for me I am getting the chance to try the Book Cliffs muzzleloader deer hunt over again this year!  I had the tag in 2010 and while I enjoyed some success, there were a lot of things that just didn't quite go right (read about my 2010 hunt here).  I learned a lot and feel like if I had it to do over I would do some things differently.

Well, the draw is done, my credit card has been charged and I am getting my chance to try again! I have had some time to reflect and plan what I would do differently, but not so much time that my memories of the hunt and knowledge of the animals and area aren't still fresh.  I am ready to gear up and go for it again. 

My lovely wife gave me a new muzzleloader for Christmas after my 2010 blackpowder frustrations.  Last fall I verified it works by putting the hammer down on a nice little general season meat buck.  Thanks Tristie! 

I have a hunting buddy that drew with me this time around, and I am going to do the horse thing completely different. This September I will be back in the highest part of the Book Cliffs hoping to maybe find one of the bucks that eluded me in 2010.

Based on what I saw after the 2011 hunt I know there are still a few good ones running around out there.

Some hard lessons have been learned and the future looks bright.  It is a brand new day and the sun is just rising on my 2012 hunt.

Practice What You Preach...Or Not

After telling my wife and in-laws all week not to shoot smaller bucks because if they could hold out there would be some big ones, I finally had a chance to employ my own advice and do some buck hunting of my own in Colorado. Just call me Mr. Hypocrite because with 5 days left to hunt I somehow got caught up in the moment and blasted a tiny 4 point. Tristie wins the big deer of the year contest at our house.

In the past I haven't had too much experience with "ground shrinkage" but this one really got me. I had passed this same buck earlier in the day twice! He was hanging out with a gnarly old 3 point with some character and I snapped photos of both bucks.

After passing him for the second time he went over a hill and another hunter shot at him. The other hunter missed and the buck came back towards me for the 3rd time.

He looked bigger as he came back over the hill and when I saw the other hunter coming after him it must have triggered some competitive instinct honed all those years on the general season hunts in Utah and something snapped and I shot him. I still feel a little sick about it. I can't complain about shooting a 4 point, but at the same time I know there were some big bucks out and about this year. I stuck around a couple more days to try to find an elk for Shane and saw some really nice ones that really twisted the knife. It was great to get out and hunt, but I was disappointed in myself for not holding out.

All I know is that I can't wait for a chance to redeem myself.

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!

IT IS DONE!

Better late than never. Thesis and MS degree are done!!!

Fun and Frustration

After way too much anticipation and lots of last minute stress about my gun, my Blackpowder deer hunt arrived. I hopped into the truck with a friend heading to the same area early Tuesday morning and we were off. The hunt opened Wednesday morning but I wanted to allow plenty of time to ride the horses into the remote spot I was planning on hunting. I guess the mid-day heat and trailer full of horses was too much for his truck and we broke a serpentine belt and had the radiator overheat just a few hours into our trip. Although it only took a couple hours to get a new belt put on, it seemed like forever and it was all I could do to keep from totally freaking out. We got to the trail head later than I had planned and ended up not making it to the spot I had hoped to be on opening morning. On the bright side, another friend of mine who was in the area hunting bears took a nice boar that evening. We rode to his bear in the dark, took pictures, and skinned and packed it out on the horses on a very dark moonless night. I didn't go to bed until after 1:00 am.

Opening morning I decided to put in a couple hours in a nearby spot, and then I figured we would come back to camp and pack up the horses and ride in the rest of the way. I saw some elk and a 2 point buck, but not much else so I headed back to camp to pack the horses.

After a long ride I made it to my desired destination and got the horses settled Wed. night at about 6:30 pm. I was almost out of light and I hurried out to see if I could find any bucks. Right off the bat I spotted what I could tell from a distance were 2 nice bucks feeding in a little patch of sagebrush. I planned a stalk and before I knew it I was right above where I had last seen them. I couldn't see anything so I wondered if they had smelled/heard me and taken off? Suddenly a buck stood up and looked right at me. It was a nice buck, but the smaller of the 2 so I waited. A couple seconds later the bigger buck stood up. He was really really heavy with deep forks, even though it was only the opening day I didn't hesitate and I raised my gun and took a bead.

I have my rifle sighted in to hit a couple inches high at 100 yards, right on at 150. At 50 yards it actually shoots almost 4 inches high. Couple that with the steep downhill angle, brush covering the bottom half of the buck, and probably more than a little bit of buck fever and I watched in disbelief as my bullet kicked up a puff of dust right above the back of the massive old buck. The bucks bolted, but stopped at a couple hundred yards and waited around taunting me as I tried to hurry and reload my muzzleloader. Just as I got my second shot ready to go, they were gone.

I pulled out my rangefinder and I felt sick to my stomach that I had missed a monster buck at only 65 yards! I can still almost cry if I think about it too much.

The next morning I hoped I might turn him up again, but didn't find him. I had his buddy the smaller buck, a 26-27" wide 4 point with huge backs and tiny fronts come within 80 yards of me, but I held off hoping the heavy guy would show up. He didn't.

Over the next couple days I glassed and passed multiple bucks, some that were pretty decent. I made a stalk to within 25 yards of this young 4 point, but let him go. Even after I stood up and busted him, he circled back to 75 yards to have another look at me and let me snap his photo.

After a morning of glassing a beautiful basin and watching a bull elk chase his cows around I was headed back to camp to let my horse eat and to escape the record heat wave afflicting my area.

While walking back I jumped a buck even bigger than the one I had missed earlier. He stopped at about 80 yards and looked back over his shoulder. I had a dead rest on a tree and the crosshairs right on his back rib when I squeezed the trigger. I heard the loudest "CLICK" I have ever heard. It was too much for the buck and he ran into the bottom of a deep thick canyon. The bolt on my rifle had made a good dent in the 209 primer, but it had failed to go off. The primer was a DUD! I had to watch a 190 class buck with beautiful deep forks bound away wondering what I had done to deserve this kind of karma!

The next day I had a black bear walk to within 5 yards of me before we both startled and he took off. I saw multiple bear tracks, and even took photos of one through my spotting scope.

I enjoyed the country and had a couple more frustrating encounters with big bucks, including a standoff with the heavy buck from opening day at 35 yards. There was a boulder between us and all I could see was a perfect view of his antlers. After several days of hard hunting in the sweltering heat I am sure I was pretty ripe and he could smell me. We both waited to see who would make the next move. He moved, taking just the right path to stay out of sight as he stotted down a ridge into the thick oakbrush where I would never see him again.

It had been beautiful, and I had seen lots of nice animals with chances to take several decent bucks, but it had just never come together on any of the big ones.


My friend showed up with the pack horse and we loaded camp up Saturday after the morning hunt. I headed for home feeling frustrated and discouraged. Right at noon a we jumped a couple bucks right on the trail. I hopped off the horse, grabbed my gun and walked up the hill where they had ran. To my surprise they bucks were just standing there. Without really thinking I took aim at the biggest of the two and pulled the trigger half expecting to miss. Well, as Murphy's law would have it I nailed him and he rolled back down the hill coming to a rest right on the trail.

It was probably close to 80 degrees, so we did the best we could to get the meat taken care of and packed onto the horse. That and several other horse related delays didn't let me get home Saturday night as planned, and I didn't make it home until Sunday afternoon. Nothing went quite like I planned, but I did have a good time.

I still wish I could have put the pieces together on one of the bigger bucks I had seen, but there is always next year...