Had a good time in a “bad” unit

This year (2024) was going to be bleak in terms of draw tags, so I decided to join the Idaho otc madness. Initially we wanted to get a group of us into the same unit and have a deer camp bachelor party, but only some of the group was able to get a tag in the same area. With a baby, moving, and a new job I decided not to do any summer scouting and plan a longer trip and just be patient. My initial goal was 170”, which I was told is totally unrealistic for this unit which is one of the busiest and “worst” mule deer units, apparently. No matter, this was my one big hunt for the year and I felt determined to enjoy it big bucks or not.

The good luck started in the controlled hunt draw when one of the guys pulled an early rifle bull tag for the same unit with very low odds! He has never killed a bull and this seemed like a great opportunity for that.

We decided to arrive in the unit a few days after his hunt started, in order to overlap with the deer hunt for a total of about 12 days of hunting. This was about the maximum we could swing schedule wise and still make it a combo hunt.

Rob arrived a day before me and did not turn up any elk; but caught a glimpse of what looked like a nice buck at 3 miles away. I arrived around midnight and slept in the bed of my truck near that glassing point to get a better look, while Rob had moved to another location looking for elk.



I turned up lots of small bucks and does; nothing that interested me. We think the buck he saw was about a 20”, tall framed deer that I also had a glimpse of heading into timber before sunrise. Not what I was looking for. Rob had turned up quite a few elk including several bulls he would be happy with. I drove a few hours to meet up with him and figure out a plan of attack.

We hemmed and hawed for an hour or two in the shade looking over maps. The elk were living in a tough spot to access across a canyon and the daytime highs were in the low 80s. The last thing we wanted was any meat spoilage..and physically the pack out would be quite bad. Thankfully Gaia GPS showed an old logging road that was not on OnX maps which would cut the distance down and make it possible. We packed our gear for an ultralight spike camp and started the hike under a brutal afternoon sun..

It was about 4 miles to where we spiked out, but the terrain was just easy enough we felt like it would be doable to pack an elk from there. With spike camp set up, we rehydrated and prepared for the evening hunt

We camped about a mile from where the elk had been seen. Just above camp was a nice spot to glass from. Right on cue, cows started pouring out of the timber onto an open sage brush hillside with plenty of light left. We heard a bugle behind them from the timber and shortly after a decent bull walked out. He made his rounds checking his cows, and then let out a fierce bugle and stared downhill at a couple rag horns who had moved towards his cows. They both turned downhill away from the cows as if to say “don’t worry, we won’t even look at them”

Rob decided he was big enough, and we made our play closing the distance to 520 yards before the lead cow took notice. Rob is a good shot and his first bullet hit the bull low in the front shoulder, dropping it on the spot. He stayed on the gun and sure enough that bull got back to his feet and soaked up 2 more well placed shots before finally dying.

We got to him about dark and briefly celebrated his first bull, realizing we had a lot of work and sweat ahead of us..

We got back to camp that night around midnight with half of the meat, already sore and exhausted. Alarm clocks went off early, backs and legs were stiff, but the work had just begun.

On the hike in we identified what would be a perfect meat cache. A fallen log over a creek in perpetual shade would keep things cool with cold air circulating down with the water movement. We took the first load of meat from camp to this spot, returned to the kill site for the rest, and eventually made it to the cache with meat and camp by late afternoon.



I could go on and on about the long pack out but will summarize it by saying it took 36 hours to get it all back to the truck. Our track showed 5.1 miles from the kill site to the truck. Despite the heat the meat was in great shape (had some last night and it is perfect). Spirits were high and we celebrated Robs first bull from a beautiful campsite with vistas of the nearby peaks.

With the bull on ice, we turned our attention to deer. Thankfully we had killed and taken care of the bull nice and early into the hunt with 3 full days before opener.

We started working through different glassing points we had e-scouted, turning up lots of does and small bucks. Seeing 20-40 does and a handful of young bucks each glassing session gave me hope that a big one could have evaded the pumpkin patch; there was plenty of good escapement and steep terrain.

The hot temps and bright sun had bucks moving into cover before sunrise and it was proving very difficult to turn up anything bigger than young 4pts and forkies.

My luck changed one morning when I caught a glimpse of something bigger. At 2.5 miles, looking towards the sunrise, I saw from behind what looked like a solid frame. It was a two-second look but clearly he was bigger than anything we’d seen so far. He fed into some aspens and with bad glare I could not make out any features of his rack..

We made plans to check out the area that afternoon and figure out how I might hunt him. It was a few miles of hiking on a quad trail, then up a steep canyon a ways to where he lived. I hoped to find a place to spike out the night before opener, but as we quietly worked our way in I realized there was nowhere remotely flat enough to sleep. Plus, a small herd of elk were in there along with numerous other deer and I did not want to risk blowing out the basin.

We decided to back out before we polluted the area with scent and noise. As we slipped out of there, I threw my glass up towards the aspen patch that was his home. I couldn’t believe when I saw an aspen shaking and antlers thrashing—it was 4pm and 80 degrees but he was moving around in the thick stuff.


I got some poor video of him. Initially I was disappointed that he looked..less than impressive. In retrospect I spent too much time trying to get video instead of studying him. Regardless, I decided to hunt this buck which I estimated to be in the low 150s.

The day before opener we elected to rest. It was hard to relax as I played out endless scenarios in my mind—other hunters, other deer, elk—so many ways to mess this up! This buck had picked a good home and there was only one reasonable approach in my mind. I felt the need to be in position at shooting time in order to catch him in the open, and also anticipating other hunters in the area.

Opening day found Rob and myself beginning our hike 3 hours before shoot time. Plenty of guys buzzed past us on quads and side by sides; my stomach churned at the thought of someone beating us to the only reasonable place to hunt him from.

We made short work of the initial ascent and were positioned about 1/2 mile from the buck, and my shooting position with two hours before shoot time. The final approach in the dark would be along an incredibly steep side hill, through a thick bottom, and up an 800ft spine to be in position. I gave myself the full two hours; the morning was still and the basin a small amphitheater where breaking branches or rolling rocks would surely alert the deer to my presence. Not to mention the elk who were in and amongst the deer.

Painstaking. The entire approach to my destination I would be within 800 yards of where this buck had been seen. I picked though and around brush, along small game trails, over deadfall and finally up a steep slope with loose rocks. With 2 minutes until shoot time, I edged over a small rise that would give me vantage into the basin..

I began picking through the area with my glass. A group of does fed 200 yards from me undisturbed—the slow approach had so far been successful.

I glassed up another group of deer 400 yards above me. They were on the exact trail I had first seen the buck several days before and my heart started pounding. Eventually each of them had lifted their head enough to show me there was no buck in that group.

I made several passes through the sage and bitterbrush basin without seeing any other deer. I checked the aspen patch—nothing. There was about 10% of the basin I could not see behind a small fold in the ridge above me. “If he is here, that’s probably were he is,” I told myself. He’s here. He is definitely, here.

A few moments later, still only 10 minutes into shooting light, i panned back up into the sagebrush and immediately picked up three deer that had fed out from the hidden fold of the ridge. Two small bucks, and the last one finally lifted his head from a bush. THATS HIM.

I ranged them at 610 yards. If I could slip along this ridge for about 50 yards and across a small saddle, I would be hidden from view until popping out at about 350 yards from the bucks—all was going according to plan!

I tried to quietly gather my gear and slow my heart rate. The does next to me had fed out of view but I still would need to be stealthy to make the final stalk.

A few steps later and I knew I was moving too fast…a large rock rolled from under my foot. The next sound was a doe blowing which echoed across the basin like a car alarm.

I stood frozen and slowly glassed up towards the bucks: all three stood motionless looking straight down at me, exposed on the small secondary ridge and slightly sky-lined. I permitted myself a look at his rack: this was the first frontal view I had of him and his frame looked BIG! Enough of that I told myself; the next moves would be critical..

I looked about 5 yards ahead and saw a small rocky outcrop with just enough slope for me to get prone and above the brush. One of the bucks went back to feeding and I cautiously tip-toed towards the rock pile. BLAH!! BLAH!! BLAH!! Went the doe. The bucks were again looking down at me and on high alert. It was now or never..

I was in shooting position very quickly. I tried to steady myself and get a good range: 580 yards. This was well within my wheelhouse especially prone with a good rear bag and zero wind. I did some breathing to slow my heart rate; my crosshairs were solid behind his shoulder. I went through my shot routine and forced myself to not rush.

BOOM!

I saw through the scope dust hit directly above him. I MISSED!!

Within a few seconds I was back on him, corrected for the high miss, and touched off an another shot. I saw the impact through my scope, a good hit. The other two bucks took off running. He began to follow for a few steps, but his front legs gave out and he began to roll on the steep slope. When he stopped, he picked his head up. I could see just his face and antlers above the sagebrush. I got a new range on him and readjusted my elevation. Except, now I couldn’t find him. Was he dead?! Did he move?! A slight panic set in as I searched through the sagebrush, knowing it would be hard to pick him out bedded, at distance, in the gray light before sunrise.

A minute or so of this had me wondering if he was dead. My heart sank when I saw him slipping across the basin slowly, headed for the thick aspens.

I ranged, got behind the gun, and took another shot which struck him on the front edge of his shoulder and though his chest. He staggered, walked into the aspens, and came rolling out of them. When he stopped, again his head was up. He rose to his feet again before my final shot pinned both shoulders and he was down for good.

I could see him clearly dead and not breathing. I took a minute to collect myself and re play what happened. I put my rangefinder on the tripod and re-ranged his initial position: most likely, I had picked up the brush behind him on the steep slope. .2 mils off was all it took for a clean miss but thankfully I am practiced in spotting my own impacts and quick follow ups which is critical, in my opinion.

The buck definitely had ground growage and I am thrilled with him. He’s 27” outside and 24” inside with solid mass and a studly, framey look to him (at least I think so ). Not a scoring buck with weak forks but he’s a trophy to me regardless.

After my buck, I was able to help my other buddies get their deer. My geriatric-onset hunter buddy killed his second and best buck the next morning. His son got a buck opening morning but came along for the experience. Rob got his deer on the last day of our hunt and was very happy with the whole experience and his deer. I think we did well for the unit but more importantly we made lifetime memories in some awesome country.