Tristate
Long Time Member
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This is the continuation of the other muley thread.
Weeks went by and it was time for the rifle season opener. I was pumped. I had convinced myself that the buck was still alive but we were close to rut now and who knows where he might have moved to.
One thing weighed heavy in my mind. This whole thing was feeling like deja vu. The truth is three years ago almost the same story had occurred. In this exact area in archery season I found a big buck. I tried a couple times to get in on him but it just didn't come together. Hell, I never really got close. I told myself I would get him in gun season. 6 days into gun season he was shot. Just not by me. It happens. I struck out on deer that year. Just the hard reality of the game we love to play.
As I crawled into the truck I was already second guessing our plan we had formulated the night before. When in doubt have fun and hunt. That's what we did. For four days we tore that country apart. We found every buck we had seen in archery season but not the buck we were after. Was he roaming far and wide looking for girls, was he just really smart and hiding right under our noses.
What was really twisting my thoughts was I know this country really well. Every low spot and shade tree that would hide an old book was known by us. But we just couldn't turn him up
It was Tuesday morning and we were all discussing where we should move to. In the dark we rolled up to our south lookout.not much was moving as the sun rose. It was going to be windy and I think the deer knew it and were digging in. Above the red bluffs a deer stood like bucephalus. He was far and the mirage was bad but I could make out some really big antlers just no details. I was trying to talk my brothers into his location when he started marching stiff legged down the backside of the bluffs and out of sight. We needed to move fast.
We threw all the gear in the buggy and started north to our north lookout. We rolled up and broke out the glass. In a mater of seconds we all located two bucks deep in a ravine. It was a face off between two big bucks. One buck rose up out of the ravine and the sun hit his antlers. It was him. We had finally found him and he was within 300 yards of where we had last seen him in archery season. Had he always been right there and we just weren't seeing him? Had he just returned from a walk about? I'll never really know but it was time to get down to business.
We started to formulate the best plan we could. They were far away and their blood was up. They could have taken off at any second. They kept turning circles around each other and posturing for a fight.
We left one brother there on the big glass and headed back south. We swung east to get the wind right and headed west northwest on foot. We had gone probably 400 yards when I looked right and realized a mule deer buck was marching right past me going south southeast. We dropped to our knees and came back up slowly. It was the two bucks and they were marching out of the country. I started following. They were so mad neither noticed I was following them. Finally the big buck turn to the left and opened up his left side enough for a shot. I won't lie. It wasn't my best shooting and I emptied the trusty ol wichester. He went a long way and finally tipped over.
Slowly I approached the downed deer. It quickly became apparent I had never seen a typical deer like this one. The beams were long and tines enormous. Everything a typical mule deer should be. The end of his left beam was broken. Probably that morning from the fight.
Even my brothers were in shock. We had all missed the mark on what we had been predicting he would be. We've seen, shot, and handled lots of big ones but this was a new education for all three of us.
After a good bit of struggling we managed to get him into the buggy.
I texted my friend who was still searching for the wounded archery buck and he met us on the main road. He too was in complete disbelief, but confirmed this was not the wounded deer. On a side note I sure hope they find that buck next season and even the score.
Time has passed and there's been some rumors in the public about this deer. I wanted to keep a lot of things quiet because I dislike rumors and fake stories that often are generated on the internet. I finally took him to a B&C scorer and had him officially measured. I submitted the scores to TBGA and it looks like he will be recognized as the highest netting typical mule deer ever killed in Texas.
I am certainly blessed in many ways. I am very thankful for having family that gets along and loves hunting together. There is a lot of family and friends that are gone that I wish would have been around to take part in this. One of my clients asked "What now?"
Hunting. Like I always did and hopefully always will.
Hunt to teach a kid more than he can learn in school. Hunt to let an old man know his wisdom is still needed at the campfire. Hunt to be honest with my soul. Hunt to know nothing ends at the skinning pole.
Thanks to Monster Muleys for years of entertainment and education.
Weeks went by and it was time for the rifle season opener. I was pumped. I had convinced myself that the buck was still alive but we were close to rut now and who knows where he might have moved to.
One thing weighed heavy in my mind. This whole thing was feeling like deja vu. The truth is three years ago almost the same story had occurred. In this exact area in archery season I found a big buck. I tried a couple times to get in on him but it just didn't come together. Hell, I never really got close. I told myself I would get him in gun season. 6 days into gun season he was shot. Just not by me. It happens. I struck out on deer that year. Just the hard reality of the game we love to play.
As I crawled into the truck I was already second guessing our plan we had formulated the night before. When in doubt have fun and hunt. That's what we did. For four days we tore that country apart. We found every buck we had seen in archery season but not the buck we were after. Was he roaming far and wide looking for girls, was he just really smart and hiding right under our noses.
What was really twisting my thoughts was I know this country really well. Every low spot and shade tree that would hide an old book was known by us. But we just couldn't turn him up
It was Tuesday morning and we were all discussing where we should move to. In the dark we rolled up to our south lookout.not much was moving as the sun rose. It was going to be windy and I think the deer knew it and were digging in. Above the red bluffs a deer stood like bucephalus. He was far and the mirage was bad but I could make out some really big antlers just no details. I was trying to talk my brothers into his location when he started marching stiff legged down the backside of the bluffs and out of sight. We needed to move fast.
We threw all the gear in the buggy and started north to our north lookout. We rolled up and broke out the glass. In a mater of seconds we all located two bucks deep in a ravine. It was a face off between two big bucks. One buck rose up out of the ravine and the sun hit his antlers. It was him. We had finally found him and he was within 300 yards of where we had last seen him in archery season. Had he always been right there and we just weren't seeing him? Had he just returned from a walk about? I'll never really know but it was time to get down to business.
We started to formulate the best plan we could. They were far away and their blood was up. They could have taken off at any second. They kept turning circles around each other and posturing for a fight.
We left one brother there on the big glass and headed back south. We swung east to get the wind right and headed west northwest on foot. We had gone probably 400 yards when I looked right and realized a mule deer buck was marching right past me going south southeast. We dropped to our knees and came back up slowly. It was the two bucks and they were marching out of the country. I started following. They were so mad neither noticed I was following them. Finally the big buck turn to the left and opened up his left side enough for a shot. I won't lie. It wasn't my best shooting and I emptied the trusty ol wichester. He went a long way and finally tipped over.
Slowly I approached the downed deer. It quickly became apparent I had never seen a typical deer like this one. The beams were long and tines enormous. Everything a typical mule deer should be. The end of his left beam was broken. Probably that morning from the fight.
Even my brothers were in shock. We had all missed the mark on what we had been predicting he would be. We've seen, shot, and handled lots of big ones but this was a new education for all three of us.
After a good bit of struggling we managed to get him into the buggy.
I texted my friend who was still searching for the wounded archery buck and he met us on the main road. He too was in complete disbelief, but confirmed this was not the wounded deer. On a side note I sure hope they find that buck next season and even the score.
Time has passed and there's been some rumors in the public about this deer. I wanted to keep a lot of things quiet because I dislike rumors and fake stories that often are generated on the internet. I finally took him to a B&C scorer and had him officially measured. I submitted the scores to TBGA and it looks like he will be recognized as the highest netting typical mule deer ever killed in Texas.
I am certainly blessed in many ways. I am very thankful for having family that gets along and loves hunting together. There is a lot of family and friends that are gone that I wish would have been around to take part in this. One of my clients asked "What now?"
Hunting. Like I always did and hopefully always will.
Hunt to teach a kid more than he can learn in school. Hunt to let an old man know his wisdom is still needed at the campfire. Hunt to be honest with my soul. Hunt to know nothing ends at the skinning pole.
Thanks to Monster Muleys for years of entertainment and education.
