I am in my early ‘50s, have wanted to hunt deer for years, but couldn’t get over the inertia hump. Which is to say, I couldn’t get anyone to invite me out.
Finally got a young guy from work, an avid hunter, to take me.
We started small, A half-day hunt. Here in Idaho, that’s practical.
We left about 2pm. Headed out to a spot recommended to us by a mutual friend. A 2-point only area. You can only harvest bucks with 2 points on one side. This area is supposed to be full of them.
We drove till the pavement ended, then drove another half-hour or so. We were getting out into the boonies, or so we thought until the school bus came up behind us, and a UPS truck passed us going the other way.
We drove another while, until the road petered out. We glassed every mile or two. Nothing.
When the road got too small, we walked into some rougher country. Got to a prominent point and glassed. We spotted a small feeder creek with water in it, aspen groves and mixed open grass around it.
Saw two groups of 3 does. Figured we were getting warm. So we stalked roundabout to get close to the herd. All told, we’ve walked about 1.5 miles of terrain, with much up & down. My legs are getting rubbery. We set up in a good ambush spot. Sure enough, some more does appeared. Then a buck appeared. I counted points. Two and Two! Range about 250 yards. I can make this shot!
Buddy sees me setting up and whispers “No! Too Big!” I’m thinking “Too Big? What the heck?” Then I see the two and two points were on the SAME SIDE. 4 more points on the other side. A 4-pointer. Illegal. My heart rate begins to return to near normal.
I maintain the ambush spot, in case another younger buck should show. Buddy, who still has some legs left, unlike me, scouts up higher.
I stalk a little closer to the herd, mostly to practice stalking, and maybe just in case. I move when the wind stirs the leaves. I’m still when the wind is still. I get as close as I dare, then just observe. It gets still enough at times that I hear them munching.
Every time I count the herd, there’s another deer--6, then 7, then 8. All does except the 4 pointer.
Finally, another herd jogs through the herd I’m watching and they take off. Buddy may have spooked that second group.
We figure its time to head back before we lose the light. We shadow the spooked herd up the mountain and back to the car, glassing them regularly. This is so cool.
We got to the truck just at dusk, legs rubbery again, and drive out. I marvel at the awesomeness of finding the deer, stalking, and being that close to the herd. Everything went fine, except nothing to shoot.
And that’s OK. There will be another time. And eventually there will be a shot, and field dressing, and perhaps a bigger celebration.
But I still feel like celebrating the hunt.
Finally got a young guy from work, an avid hunter, to take me.
We started small, A half-day hunt. Here in Idaho, that’s practical.
We left about 2pm. Headed out to a spot recommended to us by a mutual friend. A 2-point only area. You can only harvest bucks with 2 points on one side. This area is supposed to be full of them.
We drove till the pavement ended, then drove another half-hour or so. We were getting out into the boonies, or so we thought until the school bus came up behind us, and a UPS truck passed us going the other way.
We drove another while, until the road petered out. We glassed every mile or two. Nothing.
When the road got too small, we walked into some rougher country. Got to a prominent point and glassed. We spotted a small feeder creek with water in it, aspen groves and mixed open grass around it.
Saw two groups of 3 does. Figured we were getting warm. So we stalked roundabout to get close to the herd. All told, we’ve walked about 1.5 miles of terrain, with much up & down. My legs are getting rubbery. We set up in a good ambush spot. Sure enough, some more does appeared. Then a buck appeared. I counted points. Two and Two! Range about 250 yards. I can make this shot!
Buddy sees me setting up and whispers “No! Too Big!” I’m thinking “Too Big? What the heck?” Then I see the two and two points were on the SAME SIDE. 4 more points on the other side. A 4-pointer. Illegal. My heart rate begins to return to near normal.
I maintain the ambush spot, in case another younger buck should show. Buddy, who still has some legs left, unlike me, scouts up higher.
I stalk a little closer to the herd, mostly to practice stalking, and maybe just in case. I move when the wind stirs the leaves. I’m still when the wind is still. I get as close as I dare, then just observe. It gets still enough at times that I hear them munching.
Every time I count the herd, there’s another deer--6, then 7, then 8. All does except the 4 pointer.
Finally, another herd jogs through the herd I’m watching and they take off. Buddy may have spooked that second group.
We figure its time to head back before we lose the light. We shadow the spooked herd up the mountain and back to the car, glassing them regularly. This is so cool.
We got to the truck just at dusk, legs rubbery again, and drive out. I marvel at the awesomeness of finding the deer, stalking, and being that close to the herd. Everything went fine, except nothing to shoot.
And that’s OK. There will be another time. And eventually there will be a shot, and field dressing, and perhaps a bigger celebration.
But I still feel like celebrating the hunt.
