After a very successful muzzleloader deer hunt, I had a short break before my first general rifle elk hunt in nearly 20 years. I did the November muzzleloader elk hunt last year (2012) and was looking forward to doing that again, but my fifth child would be arriving mid to late November & the muzzleloader hunt would be cutting it way too close for comfort. I entered the hunt with these goals as a measurement of my success and a way to temper my expectations:
- If I were to see elk, I would be satisfied.
- If I were to see a bull, I would be ecstatic.
- If I were to actually harvest a bull… well let’s just see a bull first.
Over the course of 30+ years family history with the area NOBODY has harvested a bull, Grandpa harvested a cow many years back but zero bulls.
The plan was to head out Sunday afternoon & to begin hunting Monday morning. We arrived at the cabin at about 6:00pm and quickly unloaded our gear. We spent the evening glassing & getting the two other guys (Jared & Clint) acquainted with the area. Immediately we were able to glass up a little herd of about 6 elk, all cows & calves. We were optimistic as we made our way back to the cabin for the night. On the way back we saw a whole bunch of deer, almost hitting one with my dad’s truck as we cruised down the dirt road. We stopped and visited briefly with my grandparents who were at one of the other cabins. Once back at the cabin we grilled up some smoked sausages and hot dogs, smothered them with chili & cheese, and watched a hunting DVD.
Monday we made our way to an area where Jared & I placed a couple trail cameras late in the summer but none of the cameras had picked up much elk activity. As we dropped into the bowl, we spotted a small herd of cows & calves. We were watching this little herd of elk when another hunter slowly stalked across the bowl 40 feet in front of us. With every step his barrel would pass right over us. We got his attention & he waived at us as if to say, “Sorry, I knew you were there but I thought if I didn’t make eye contact I could just sneak on by.” I’m not sure how he couldn’t see three guys sitting on a nearly bare hillside decked out in hunter orange… but who knows, we nicknamed him Frodo. He hurried down the hill right into the area that we were working into.
Anyway… our focus returned to the small herd of cows. I began to feel sick to my stomach, my head was pounding, and I needed to lie down. I looked at Jared & Clint and told them I wasn’t feeling well. I had gotten severe heat exhaustion the first time Jared & I hiked into this bowl, and I could only imagine what he was thinking. I’m certain he was thinking that I was some kind of lightweight pansy that can’t go anywhere without getting sick! I found a small spot of shade under a scrub oak and slept it off for a couple hours while Jared & Clint hiked up and down the mountain. From what I could tell, my binoculars were making me motion sick. I bought a pair of Bushnell 16x50s off the Wal-Mart shelf when I first got back into hunting about 5 years ago and I think that the increased magnification and my general unsteadiness caused me to get sick. Additionally I use a binocular harness and I think that contributes to the unsteadiness with the pressure from the harness straps pulling my binoculars down toward my chest. I think a new pair of 10x42s will be on my wish list for next year, something that is a bit smaller, wider field of view, and easier to hold steady. Maybe I’ll also look for something different like a chest pack I can clip into the harness instead and be able to remove my binoculars freely.
We stayed out all day (which was a first for me) & for the rest of the evening we saw no more elk. Clint and I watched a small herd of deer (which included a small buck) play near where we were sitting that evening and on the hike back to the ATVs we crossed paths with two bucks at about 80 yards, a nice 3pt with a small 2pt. On the 30 minute ATV ride back to the cabin we saw a bunch of deer, multiple small herds and it seemed like there was at least one small buck in each group. Hopefully many of those little bucks last through the rifle season.
We pulled the trail cameras from the bowl that day and were excited to get back to the cabin and see the pictures that had been taken. One camera had run out of batteries and not functioned properly, while the other appears to have been tampered with and the memory card cleared. I’ll never understand the complete and utter disregard for other people’s personal property, but that is the risk I take every time I walk away from one of my cameras and leave it on a tree.
Tuesday morning we decided to try the opposite side of the canyon. I saw a nice 5x5 bull in the area last year and we would be able to watch the bottom part of the bowl we had hunted the day before. We spotted a pair of spikes on the opposite hillside at nearly a mile away and the race was on!
Jared & I sprinted down the saddle in front of us to try to close the distance. Clint stayed high with the spotting scope & radio to provide us directions. As Jared & I hit the pines, Clint broke over the radio and said another herd had come over the ridge & joined the spikes… and there was a bigger bull with them now. We found a gap in the pines just in time for Clint to notify us that the entire herd had gone back over the ridge. We debated whether to keep chasing them, but something inside said to stay put. Within a couple minutes elk were again filing their way back over the ridge, it was the pair of spikes and a handful of cows/calves. The bigger bull was nowhere in sight but Jared was able to confirm which ones the spikes were & I took a shot. I had estimated the elk to be about 450 yards, but when I was finally able to get my rangefinder out after the shot I found that it was actually 550+. It was wishful to say the least, but I still hiked all the way across the canyon to check things out. It was a nervous little hike for me because I ended up pushing a bunch of moose up out of the bottom, they were rutting and I was in no mood to participate. No blood, no sign of a hit, the elk had moved on, so we headed back to the cabin for lunch and quick nap.
Tuesday afternoon we found out that Clint’s wife had developed a staph infection in her foot & decided it would be best for him to head home after the evening hunt that night. To make it a little easier to get him on his way in a timely manner, we would spend the evening glassing from the pump house. Jared dropped down the hill a little bit and spotted a spike, cow, and calf bedded in some pines. I hustled down to his vantage point & we discussed a plan of attack. Jared had hunted archery primarily in recent years and has developed an archery hunter’s mentality of liking to “get in there and get after them.” His plan was to drop down to the bottom of the canyon and sneak up on them from there, but I thought we’d be giving up too much of an advantage by losing sight of them while trying to close the distance. I proposed that we keep our elevation and slowly “sidehill it” one ridgeline south, which by my estimation would be a decent position for a long but manageable shot. I think Jared liked his plan better but said to me, “Let’s see you do it.”
Off I went. I made it to a lone pine tree and spent several minutes glassing the pines but I couldn’t find the elk. I found a comfortable rock and sat down. I wasn’t sure if the elk were still in the little draw but continued to watch. I spotted a couple of deer at the edge of the pines and they were looking into the trees… something was still in there. Again, several minutes passed and light was fading so I decided to make my way back to the truck so we could get Clint headed home. I stood and took a couple steps when I noticed a cream colored oval at the edge of the pines slightly higher up the mountain than where I had been focusing. Sure enough, it was the spike. I plopped down, ranged him at 357 yards, steadied my gun, and fired.
Nothing! He didn’t even turn his head to see where the shot had come from.
Okay, a second shot was then turned loose… but again nothing. At least he was turned and looking at me now.
A third shot followed shortly… yet another miss. He began to slowly make his way back towards the safety of the trees.
I worked the bolt back and heard an unfamiliar click. I was out of bullets! Wait… there should be one more shot. I was one short! I remembered the single shot that I fired earlier that morning… NO! I couldn’t believe it, this was really happening to me. I finally had a bull within range and was out of bullets! My pack was up with Jared and had several bullets in the small front pocket, but right here & now I was sunk. There was no attempt to be quiet or stealthy, I couldn’t believe that I’d done this to myself and probably looked like a drunken lunatic with a gun. Then I had a brief moment of clarity & I touched my left chest pocket… and pulled out a fresh cartridge. At lunch I had swapped out the mornings spent casing for a new bullet and I’d forgotten about it, so I did have one more bullet and this really was my last chance. Now the scramble was on & I was looking for anything that would provide me with a good steady rest. There was nothing to my right, and I spotted a good sized boulder to my left. I tried to steady on the rock but the angle was awkward and uncomfortable. So, I sat down again and rested my elbow on my knee. I tried to be as solid as I could, and settled the crosshairs on the bull. By now the bull has nearly fed back to the pines and I am talking out loud to myself. “You got one shot, Derek. This has to be good.”
I took two calming breathes. The trigger broke, I saw the bull drop & heard the smack of the bullet. I stood and realized what I had just done. I ran over to where I could see Jared and started waiving my hat while yelling at him to bring me my pack (little did I know I had a radio in the cargo pocket of my pants… go figure). Then, there came the realization that it was getting dark and we had already committed to getting Clint home. The emotion swing from “Oh, yeah!” to “Oh, crap!” occurred quickly. Jared and I ran over to the bull to assess the situation.
I’ll admit that I was fully unprepared for the scene that I encountered. I’m not certain what I was expecting, but I was NOT expecting to walk up to an animal that size. I was completely taken off guard at how big this “little” spike was. I’m used to deer, an animal that I can drag & move around by myself, throw in the back of the truck myself, get hung up by myself, etc. That would not be happening with this creature. We did our best to orient the spike so that we could at least get it gutted then return the next morning to pack out. We finally got the bull positioned for cleaning and I was again overwhelmed by the sheer size of the animal. I can gut a deer within 10 or 15 minutes & I know that the process is exactly the same, but the scale of the task was overwhelming. I didn’t know where to start. Forty five minutes later the bull was cleaned out (probably not some of my finest work… but it was completely dark and I was working by headlamp) and we were on our way back to the truck. We had cell reception at the truck and I made a quick call to my wife, she sounded genuinely excited for me for which I am grateful. I then called my grandparents and Grandpa asked if we hand hung it up. I wasn’t sure where, with what, or how we would have gotten this elk off the ground! He and Grandma were happy for me though.
I was on cloud nine, but we still had the daunting task of packing the meat out the next morning.
Both Jared & I were uneasy leaving the meat on the mountain overnight because we had heard coyotes howling in the area on previous nights. We would also be down to only two of us doing the packing instead of three, so we would either make extra trips or our packs would be a little bit heavier.
We arrived Wednesday morning to find the meat cooled and in great shape. We skinned, quartered, and boned all the meat out. We decided to try and get all the meat off the steep hillside in one shot, so we loaded up the packs with the quarters and carried the rest of the meat in game bags in our arms. We made it about a third of a mile like that before the climb back up to the truck got too steep and the additional weight too much. We stashed the game bags in the shade and came back for them. In the end we made two trips each and were back at the cabin with all the meat hanging in the shade in the nice cool breeze and resting by early afternoon. While making that second trip back up to the truck with a pack full of meat I vowed never to purchase another elk tag again. I was checking elk hunting off my bucket list and was done with elk hunting forever! Few things are as exhilarating as harvesting your first bull elk (regardless of size), and few things are more horrific than the work that follows. But I guess it’s like childbirth… the passage of time dulls the pain and only memories of excitement remain (don’t tell my wife I made that comparison).
Having the amenities of the cabin was phenomenal, there is something about having a full kitchen and running hot water. Taking a warm bath after a long day has a way of making a guy feel almost human again. I had washed up Tuesday night after gutting the elk & was ready to heat some water for Jared but he declined and teased me briefly making some comment about how men don’t take baths… to which I mostly agree and share a similar opinion that bathing is akin to marinating in your own filth. But when the options are to take a bath or continue to smell & feel like a mountain goat… a bath will do just fine. After we got the meat hung up, we grilled us up a nice lunch (more sausages smothered in chili) and heated some water to clean ourselves up. I gave Jared first crack at a warm bath that afternoon. When he emerged from the bathroom looking fresh and clean he looked at me and said, “That has got to be one of the best feelings in the world… I will never tease you about that again.” I laughed and took my turn to get cleaned up.
The thought of doing that whole process again with just two of us was not something either of us could stomach right away… we decided we would split the meat and head for home a couple days early. Not only was I successful in harvesting my first bull elk & bringing home some meat, I would also be coming home a day & a half early… husband of year!
We went out & glassed Wednesday night and I was still so beat that I don’t recall if we saw anything… I’m certain we saw some deer & moose, but other than that I have no recollection. When we got back to the cabin that night we grilled up some of the smaller pieces of elk steak that wouldn’t stay hanging up for dinner. We pulled a couple regular beef steaks from the cooler and did a little side-by-side taste test. The elk was fantastic, cooked to a medium-rare/medium with a touch of Montreal seasoning… elk, it’s what’s for dinner!
Thursday morning we glassed again and spotted a lone cow that we watched for a while. It seemed odd that she would be alone, but as far as we could tell she was. Then I spotted a good sized herd down in the bottom. At one point I had 7 elk at once in the picture of my spotting scope. I think we ended up counting a dozen elk in the herd but couldn’t put antlers on any of them. Had we not already committed to returning home that day we may have tried to get Jared into them, or at least drop down the canyon to sit at a more advantageous spot to look them over. By this time we had both gotten our legs back and were regretting having already committed to return home early. Now we both know to wait and give our bodies a half day or so before making that decision.
We ended up seeing about 40 head of elk. All but 6 of the elk were spotted in the same canyon within a half to three quarters of a mile distance. I have started to call this area “the Bermuda triangle,” referring not to its shape but to its location being not easily visible from the primary access points of the area. It seems to me that this is an area where the elk move into when they are pressured. Only on one occasion did those elk act as if they were alarmed and that was when Jared & I were running down the saddle. We were probably the reason they spooked. We also saw a great number of deer including a couple of nice bucks and a good number of smaller bucks. We also saw a good number of mature bull moose… a handful of those were very respectable bulls, two of which I would have harvested without a second thought.
I was concerned with how many other hunters we would encounter, and although we did run into or spot eight or nine other guys, we spent almost the entire time feeling like we were the only ones on the mountain. This was an amazing experience. All the previous big game animals I’ve harvested have been near a road or easily handled with an ATV. This was my first time skinning, quartering, and packing an animal out. It was very much a learning experience.
The trail cameras went up in early June. I had worked out plans with a buddy (Jared) to try placing them in a more remote area in search of elk which would require a lengthy ATV ride and steep hike to access. We could not coordinate our schedules early on so I placed all three cameras in the bowl I hunted heavily last year which is a quick but steep ¾ mile hike. My six year old son accompanied me on that initial hike & was an absolute trooper. He started out shaky but as soon as he found a little walking stick he more than kept pace… I’m very proud of him. He declined to accompany me on subsequent trips because he doesn’t like it when the brush starts getting taller than him. Apparently he doesn’t like getting smacked in the face by sagebrush & I don’t blame him.
Like last year, I got some great pictures of a number of smaller bucks and a couple of really nice bucks. I also saw a bunch of elk including several respectable bulls. In August Jared & I were finally able to get into the remote area and relocated 2 cameras there. I had never been into the area previously because most members of my family thoroughly despise hiking… they are road hunters extraordinaire. I have high hopes for this new piece of real estate & feel like we’ve just seen the tip of the iceberg. However, the hike out was eye opening as I developed a case of heat stroke that left me vomiting & incapacitated for the rest of the day. Scary stuff for sure, I’m grateful that I made it back to the cabin before the fullness of symptoms hit and my wife & grandmother were able to nurse me back to feeling human again… although I probably should have gone to the hospital.
I hit the range one week prior to opening day and made a rookie mistake by adjusting my iron sights the wrong direction. I got so frustrated burning through my stock of bullets that ultimately I just gave up. I had long been considering stepping up to a 300 grain bullet since I have aspirations of drawing a muzzleloader elk tag… so since I was going to have to start over & re-sight my gun in entirely, I guess you could say I took advantage of the situation and made a change from the 250gr Hornady SST to the 300gr Hornady HP-XTP Mag. I’m excited to see how they perform.
Cody & I got to the cabin at about 4pm and ran to a nearby canyon to do some shooting. I was able to get my gun sighted in again but still had some reservations at longer distances. My dad, Darren, and his 6 year old son arrived right about 7pm & my uncle arrived about 30 minutes after that. We settled in and made plans for the morning talking the whole time about the weather forecast (windy, cold, and snow).
Cody & I jumped in my truck opening morning and headed for the bowl I hunted last year (“Plan A”). There was a truck parked at the mouth of the bowl, so we continued up the road to hike into a different bowl Cody & I had hunted during the muzzleloader elk hunt last Nov. As we drove through a meadow near a small lake I spotted a couple does… then a couple more… six total. Then a small 2 point buck. I stopped the truck and we looked him over and chuckled that it’d be about a 20 yard shot. It felt like we were stopped for a couple minutes (really just a couple seconds) but the buck fed, head down, leisurely the whole time. I finally decided he was just begging to be shot… everything was so ideal that I couldn’t pass it up. I jumped out, threw a primer in, took a quick rest, and pulled the trigger. He dropped where he stood. I’ll praise my new choice of bullets! Cody & I ran over and grabbed him… still kicking… and threw him in the back of the truck. Since we were right on the road, we took him to a more secluded area to get him cleaned up. From the time I got out of the truck to when we were moving again with the buck in the back probably only took a minute. We had him hanging in the basement of the cabin and back out hiking by 8:30am. I’d spent the last 2 years hiking my guts out, and I was hoping to do the same this year… but something inside me told me to shoot this buck. I’m pleased, he’ll be tasty.
Grandpa, Dad, Darren, and my uncle were watching a nice 4 point but couldn’t get a clear shot because he was with a bunch of does in some scrub oak & tall sagebrush. Darren described it as, “They went zebra on us!” They just could never tell which one he was… they’d pick him out then the little herd would shift around and they’d have to relocate him. The small herd of deer worked its way up the ridge through the scrub oak and out of range without a clear shot ever being presented… smart ole buck! The next draw over they spotted little 2 point & my dad applied a healthy dose of peer pressure. Reluctantly, my uncle pulled the trigger. They took the little buck back to hang in the basement of the cabin next to mine.
Cody and I spent the afternoon sitting in the bowl I call “Plan A” and sat through several waves of pretty intense snow and wind.
When the weather would clear, we were able to spot a couple bucks, two 2pts… nothing that we would want to drag out of there. We were cold & wet, so we decided to drive around and warm up for the last hour or so. We saw four small bucks and about 30 does in the areas too close to the cabins to be shot legally before we finally found one in an area we could shoot. Cody was hoping to fill his tag quickly so that he could return home to be with his father who had just undergone additional surgical procedures related to melanoma cancer removal just above his eye. I could tell he was relieved to have filled his tag and would be able to return home early to be with his family. Since it was dark, we threw the little buck in the back of the truck & cleaned him up at the lot.
Opening day closed with 3 bucks hanging in the basement of the cabin.
Thursday morning Cody & I butchered the three bucks taken the day before. We ate lunch about 1:30pm and he was ready to head for home. I escorted him out through the gates and sent him on his way. When I returned to the cabin I found that Grandpa had shot another little 2 point and Darren had taken a shot at a bigger buck in nearly the exact spot where he shot his 3x4 last year. They looked for any indication of Darren hitting the buck. Darren was pretty upset about the whole thing, he was insistent that he’d hit it but lack of evidence said otherwise. I had an idea how he was feeling because of hitting & losing a nice buck last year. I also knew exactly what he didn’t want me to say… so I didn’t say anything at all & we watched Taladega Nights with Will Farrell instead for a little comedic relief.
Day two ended with another buck hanging… 4 of 6!
Because of Darren’s persistence, we had designs of going and giving it one more try to turn up any evidence of a hit on that buck but overnight snow made it difficult to find any sign. We walked around looking for a body for a couple hours before we got too wet & cold to continue on. We piled back in the truck and convinced him that it was a miss. Heading back to the cabin we crossed paths with a group of three small bucks and Darren made a very tough shot on a buck that was quartering away and steeply uphill. The buck actually turned and ran downhill towards us before piling up. I could tell that redemption was sweet for him. Finding a bullet is a rare treat, and this one just happened to be a bump under the skin of the opposite shoulder. I performed a quick deer autopsy and cleaned the bullet off. I showed it to my nephew (Darren’s son) and he was fascinated with the little pieces of bone lodged within the lead core. I’ll admit… I thought it was pretty cool, too.
Day three ended with our fifth buck hanging.
My dad was the only one left with a tag, and he was bound and determined to NOT pull the trigger. My uncle was chomping at the bit to return the favor and throw some peer pressure his direction… but to no avail and to my dad’s pleasure his hunt ended with an unfilled tag.
We have had 2 years in a row of just solid, plain old FUN hunts. Most of the bucks harvested have been young, but we did find some bigger bucks and tried to put ourselves in positions to harvest one. We hunt together and give each other the business for three & half days. We saw plenty of bucks (30+ easily), lots of does & fawns, a few handful of moose, heard some elk bugle, and put a bunch of nice tender meat in the freezer.
So, on now with the general muzzleloader elk hunt! I had been considering this hunt for several years and Cody & I decided to go for it this year. Originally we looked into the South Slope of the Uintas so that we could get an additional cow tag, but the summer trail cams that I had scouting for deer at the cabin showed exceptional promise for elk. I decided to scrap the Uintas to focus on this area. The possibility of sleeping in a cabin in November instead of a tent is what really sealed the deal for me there… but my hunting group doesn’t need to know that!
A little background on the area… 20 years ago elk were in here thick, but the ranchers in the Valley decided they had enough of ‘em, especially getting into the winter feed for their livestock. The DWR came in and virtually eliminated the Middle Fork herd trading them to Kentucky for a bunch of turkeys (you’re welcome Kentucky). Rumors had flown around in recent years of elk sightings here & there, but to us they were just ghost stories. Then on my trail cameras I started to see proof that they were, in fact… back. All summer I got pictures of a herd with at least 8 different bulls. The largest was a nice 5x6, but the most frequent visitors to the area were a pair of 4x4s and a weird little 2x2 I called “Crutches.” I’ve never named an animal, but couldn’t resist with him. A couple of bulls taken out during the general rifle hunt confirmed that they were still in there and solidified our plans. I think it was a wise move to hunt an area that I know well instead of trying to learn a new one in 2 days… and not have to sleep in a tent in November.
Originally the plan was to hunt the last half of the hunt, Monday thru Thursday. Along the way, two of Cody’s colleagues in New Mexico expressed interest in a “Utah Elk Hunt.” I could accommodate 2 additional guys to spread the cost out a little more & thought it’d be fun to learn the ways of elk hunting together. But as guys purchased plane tickets our plans changed… gone was Monday thru Thursday. Cody bought a ticket to arrive Wednesday, and his friends purchased tickets to arrive Thursday. We would be left with hunting Thursday afternoon thru Saturday morning (because of returning flights purchased for Saturday evening). This honestly left me with little hope for harvesting in such a limited time window. Had I known this was to be the case, I cannot say for certain that I would have purchased the tag back in the summer. As can be imagined trying to coordinate this ordeal was a nightmare… one I will not agree to again. The plan was for Cody and me to go into the area early Thursday and hunt the morning. Since the area requires going thru 3 locked gates, we’d have to go back out to meet the other 2 guys and let them in presumably about lunchtime.
Thursday
Cody & I left Thursday morning and arrived just before first light at the cabin. We rushed to unload ATVs and gear then headed to the top of the mountain to get an early start. I drove as far as I dared in my father’s truck and we hiked the rest of the way into a large south facing bowl. We had received up to 2 feet of snow in the area the week prior so I figured that's where we would find bare hillside and hopefully lots of animals. We arrived to find moose covering the whole bowl... 12 different moose in small groups, several bulls still sparring and the cows not really paying them much attention. Way down at the bottom of the bowl I could see a couple animals out in the open... binos revealed an absolute TOAD of a buck trailing a doe. He looked all swollen, like a pig but with long legs. Being nearly 800 yards away, we were treated to a small glimpse of rutting behaviour that I had only seen in videos. We were admiring the buck when a group of 3 hunters on horseback came over the east ridge into the bowl. The bowl came alive with deer running everywhere. That caused a chain reaction as moose then scattered and we caught a glimpse of 2 tan bodies that ran quickly over the ridge (the big old buck didn't seem to care or notice what was going on). Minutes later another tan body jetted out the bottom and over the saddle on the west. We got a good look at the north end of a south bound elk and saw a nice set of at least 5x5 antlers. At this point all my expectations had been exceeded. My goal for this hunt was not to kill an elk... it was to see one. See, this was my first serious bull elk hunt and very much a learning experience... so mission accomplished on the morning of day one. Cody & I looked at each other surprised and smiled. The bull was over 600 yards away and running fast so we had no shot at even catching up to this guy. We decided to hike back to the truck along the bottom of the adjacent canyon staying a couple hundred yards or so above the creek to have a good view of the opposite hillside. Out of the bottom of one of the feeder canyons another nice buck busted up the hillside in front of us. At just under 100 yards the 4x4 turned to look at us before going over the ridge.
We had to head back to meet Jeremy & Joe at the gates to let them in. In the middle of the road was a ruffed grouse... and I just happened to pack the 12 gauge for this occasion. I bailed out of the truck and pumped one shell into the chamber. Cody yelled, "You gonna put in another few shells?" I took 2 steps towards the unsuspecting fowl, aimed at the head and fired... I looked back and said, "Nope." Redemption, I had missed 2 on the deer hunt a couple weeks back.
For the evening we hiked into my little secret spot ("Plan A" from the deer hunt) where I had gotten lots of elk pics on my trail cameras all summer. There were no tracks in the snow and we didn't see anything.
Friday
We hiked into the same bowl as the previous morning and were again treated to a variety of wildlife. While hiking in we bumped a nice 4x4 with his group of 5 does and when we got to the bowl I immediately spotted a couple of does and started searching the surrounding area for the buck that I figured had to be there. Sure enough, laying in the brush staring at us was a beautiful 4x4 with eyeguards and an old square white face. We watched him for several minutes and Cody took some pictures of him with his phone thru my spotter.
At the same time we could hear antlers hitting together & found two bull moose sparring again. One of the bulls was the biggest bull I have seen in years. I would consider the bull he was tangling with as representative for the unit, and he looked pathetic trying to physically match this brute. I managed to snap some awful cell phone pics (my wife took the camera out of my pack for Halloween and I forgot to get it back before I left).
While I was entertained watching the moose (wishing that I could draw the moose tag sooner rather than NEVER), Jeremy spotted a herd of 8 elk across the canyon. We tried like crazy to find one with antlers, but all were cows and calves. A while later we spotted another group of deer, the first several were does followed by a small spike and a 2 point. Then appeared yet another really nice 4x4 and he laid down in the shade of a large pine tree. We hiked over to the saddle where the 5x5 bull quickly vacated the area the day before and found a very "elky area" (as Cody called it). There was scat everywhere and sign was heavy. We started to scan the area and right in front of me I saw something strange... all at once it hit me what I was seeing… a moose shed!
This is the first shed I have ever found. I underestimated how heavy it was... but the 2 mile hike up & out of the bowl was brutal! I looked for a while for the other one and found most of the little cedar trees had been brutalized by one species of antlered critter or another.
After a late lunch we rode up to another vantage point and glassed a large area. We picked out the little herd of 8 cows & calves again along with several more moose and a little hand full of deer.
Saturday
We had about 2 hours available to hunt before Jeremy & Joe needed to be heading for the airport. We headed to the same vantage point as the night before. We again picked up the little herd of 8 cows... but they had added 2 elk to their ranks. Unfortunately, both were cows. We saw another nice 4x4 buck trailing a doe and raking small aspens and brush as he followed her... I couldn't tell if she was impressed, but I was.
Like I said, this was my first serious bull elk hunt and realistically my expectations were low. My plan was for this to be a modified scouting trip for the deer hunt next year, and maybe… hopefully… potentially… see an elk. I had an absolute blast (without ever pulling the trigger... except for the grouse) and given the opportunity to do this again I would not hesitate (my only requirement would be to make sure everyone can allot a few more days to try and find a bull).
In terms of sheer numbers & variety of critters... that was one of the most amazing hunts I've been on. I'm hoping to do this again next year, although I bet a couple of the guys that came up this year will opt out next year (since they came in from out of state they were looking for more of a sure bet harvest, I was looking for further education on the area so my goals were fulfilled).
I knew my summer would be busy and I could see the writing on the wall early in May/June. I was able to get my trail cameras placed, but that’s about it. I hit the jackpot and placed them in quality locations right from day one. Lots of early summer bucks got the adrenaline going, but then the elk moved in & the deer were gone. I went six weeks without getting a picture of a deer. With each batch of pictures I got more discouraged, this spot had been “Plan A” since I stumbled into it last year. I didn’t want to, but it looked like I should put together a contingency plan. As the weather cooled and the elk started to rut they moved out & as fortune would have it… the deer moved in. I started seeing lots of activity, especially in the evenings, and picked up multiple pictures of several decent bucks. I would be happy with any of them. “Plan A” was back on!
I’d be hunting with my grandpa, uncle, dad, and brother. Grandpa is getting older, so every year counts as we all understand that these times are likely very limited. Making it even sweeter, this year we would be hunting out of the cabin that Grandpa built with his own hands 30+ years ago. We sold it in 1993 to purchase a larger place just up the road, but we bought it back last year. In my opinion it is the epitome of a “hunting cabin,” small & rustic with mostly the bare essentials but a few creature comforts. There are few antlers on its walls, so the goal this year was to change that. Things started to get exciting & I starting getting my stuff together… the build up to departure on Tuesday was killing me.
Tuesday I barely made it thru a half day of work. I couldn’t take it any longer and checked out earlier than planned. I arrived about 3pm at the cabin and helped Grandpa burn some branches & debris that accumulated over the summer due to fire restrictions. We watched a storm roll in down the canyon. The clouds were dark and seemed to touch the valley floor as it steamrolled towards us. Just before it hit us with everything it had the most brilliant rainbow appeared. It looked like it was coming out the back door of the neighboring cabin.
My dad, brother, and uncle all arrived just after dark, about the same time the rain let up.
Opening Day
Opening morning finally came and my plans were set. I jumped in my truck just before first light and headed for “Plan A.” As I rounded the bend, I saw the reflection of truck lights in my headlights. I pounded my steering wheel, cursed vehemently at the truck, and turned around to head for my next option. I wasn’t really sure what that was though. I returned to the cabin and started walking up to a nice vantage point just to the east. About halfway up the hill I glassed up a doe and her fawns, and then noticed an ATV at the bottom of the hill hidden from where I had started hiking up. By this time I was already halfway so I continued up. At the top I met up with the guy, I apologized & asked him if he’d seen anything, then hiked back down. I decided to head over to a little spring area just to the north where I’d had my cameras last year. The brush was chest high and still wet from more overnight rain, so by the time I got there I was soaked. Definitely not how I had envisioned my opening morning! Needless to say I was a bit disheartened.
I decided that I would give “Plan A” a try again that evening if nobody was parked there already. Both parking spots were empty so my dad & uncle hiked in with me. We spent a couple minutes trying to figure out where the best vantage point was and sat down. After about 30 minutes a doe stepped into a clearing 150 yards away and fed leisurely. She moved through and another deer soon entered the clearing. I put antlers on him. He looked like a good 2 point, and I debated with my uncle whether or not we should take the shot. He was feeding perfectly broadside, but the distance had us both uneasy. We decided to wait and see if he’d continue his current path and provide a closer shot. We lost him because the trees in front of us blocked our view & and didn’t see him again. Seconds after we lost him we were startled by the blast of a muzzleloader. It made all of us jump, we had no idea other hunters had come into the canyon behind us. We decided that it probably wasn’t worth sticking around the area because of the commotion. Had we decided to sit a little lower at the edge of the trees instead of above them we would have had a nice 40 yard shot at him… bummer, now we know where to sit next time.
Grandpa and Darren were up at the lot hunched over mysteriously when we returned to the cabin. They had ridden the roads that evening and had crossed paths with a small buck. Grandpa jumped out of the early ‘90’s Kawasaki Mule 1000 and downed the little guy at close range. Due to the proximity to the road and other cabins they decided to take care of the cleaning in a more private location. Grandpa hollered at Darren to quick grab the back legs while he got the front. The buck hadn’t fully expired and was still kicking, so Darren hesitated. Gramps yelled again, sternly with more urgency, to grab the rear legs and get it in the bed of the Mule. So they tossed the little 2x1 into the back and as they drove away they could see legs flailing in the rear view mirror. Gramps looked at Darren and said, “You keep an eye on him. If he jumps out let me know.” The little buck never did jump out, but completely turned itself around in the cargo bed of the mule before finally expiring. Opening Day in the books with one buck hanging.
Day 2
My back was hurting pretty bad when I woke up Thursday morning for some unexplained reason. I decided to jump in the truck & ride the roads for the morning with the group. Going down a narrow little dirt road 3 grouse crossed our path. Grandpa had traded his muzzleloader for a .410 and let the birds have it. We had fun with birds all morning, they seemed to be everywhere. We spent some time by one of the springs and saw a nice buck that I tried to catch up to but could not. In the meantime, I had left my tripod and scope with Darren. He didn’t know how to collapse it down, so when my dad fired up the truck to come after me, Darren came running down the dirt road behind him with the tripod fully extended screaming, “Wait! I don’t know what to do with this thing!” Grandpa laughed until he cried… and still chuckles nearly to tears when thinking about that visual image.
For the evening I decided to give “Plan A” a try again. Both parking spots were empty so I headed up the mountain all by my lonesome amid thunder from a nearby storm cloud. I had a clear idea of where I wanted to be this time. I hadn’t made it to my destination when I spotted a single deer in small opening directly across from me. One look through the binos revealed antlers… good ones. I ranged him at 137 yards. I figured if he continued on his current path he would come out near a water hole providing a much closer & cleaner shot. I began making preparations when 2 additional deer stepped into the clearing at the water hole. I thought I could see antlers with the naked eye, but a look thru the binos confirmed antlers on both these deer… also good ones. For a split second I thought to look them over & pick out the best one, then I realized I’m on the Utah general deer hunt in an area where we typically haven’t been blessed to see “nice” bucks… so any buck is a good buck. I’d take the first good shot presented without hesitation. I ranged the first buck as he stepped clear of obstruction at 112 yards & everything went into slow motion. I waited… safety off, hammer back, controlled breathing, sights steady… finger on the trigger. The first buck walked straight towards me... no shot. The second buck stepped clear and also walked straight toward me… no shot. Was I going to get a shot? Should I just take a bad shot? Anxiety was getting the better of me. The first buck then turned to look back at the third buck. There it was… broadside. Breathe, squeeze… BOOM! Nothing. Huh? He just stood there, took two startled steps backwards & turned to run back up the hill from where he had come. I reloaded frantically. He turned back & stood broadside again searching for the origin of the blast. I was ready for a second try & decided to take a quick look thru the binos. No visible injury… crap, a complete miss! I held slightly lower… breathe, squeeze, and BOOM. He lurched forward & ran into a clump of trees from which I did not see him leave. I scrambled to reload again, just in case, but the shot looked good. I sat on the hillside, amongst the sagebrush shaking like a leaf surrounded by my scattered gear, empty reload tubes, and the sulfuric smell of spent black powder. It was 4:45 in the afternoon. I turned on my radio & tried to contact the rest of my party. About 5:05 I finally got a response. I related an abbreviated story over the radio & reinforcements were en route. I waited an additional 15 minutes before I left my perch & went to where my buck was standing when I shot. I looked for the point of impact & found blood. I knew which way he ran, so I headed up the trail. I walked up the trail 100 yards or so fully expecting to see him piled up in the trail… but nothing. I was certain I was following his tracks but I wasn’t seeing any more blood. Trails merged & the tracks were intermingled and lost. The rest of my group arrived & took up the search in earnest. From the impact site we found blood and matter on the adjacent bushes… then nothing. We took every trail the in the direction he ran for several hundred yards… nothing. I went back to the last drop of blood and went on hands and knees looking for the next drop… nothing. From a hundred yards or so down the hill my dad let out a yell… “I found it!” I was ecstatic! But, he had not found my buck. He had found the radio that had fallen off Darren’s belt earlier during the search. My heart went to my toes. With daylight fading quickly, we spread out & started a grid search. The further from the spot we got the more sick I felt. We searched until dark & between the five of us all we could turn up was 10 feet worth of blood trail right where he was initially shot.
Day 3
As to be expected, I just wasn’t into it at all. I wanted to continue the search but trucks parked at the spot deterred me from hiking in there. Right or wrong, as much as I wanted to find my deer I didn’t have the heart to ruin their morning hunt. I rode with Grandpa all morning hoping that we wouldn’t see another buck. Gratefully, we didn’t.
I went back into “Plan A” right after lunch to look some more for my buck. No such luck. I decided to spend the evening there and sat where I had shot from the previous night. The only activity was a trio of moose, two bulls and a cow, at the top of the bowl that were in full rut. Right when the sun went down I finally had some action. A doe and her two fawns walked down to water. Human scent was still very strong because she stopped cold several times. She continued through the water hole and her twins followed. Just then I noticed a head between two aspens. I could see antlers & double checked thru my binos. This was another nice buck, whether he was the one I shot the previous night or was in the group, or an entirely new buck… I don’t know. He also stopped cold at the edge of the water hole as well & in one quick bound he passed through the only shooting lane I had. A slight glimmer of hope returned.
Day 4
I hiked into “Plan A” again, hoping to get another chance. This time I would sit directly over the water, leaving me a short 40 yard chip shot if a buck were to come in. After about 30 minutes of sitting, I heard footsteps getting closer from up the bowl and could hear the unmistakable sound of antler hitting branches. I caught a glimpse of a dark figure moving slowly thru the trees. A bull moose… walking on the very path that I was sitting on. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I completely froze. At 40 yards I got a little nervous… at 20 yards I started to get scared… and at 10 feet I realized it was too late. I readied my gun & stood up. The bull startled but didn’t move. I moved backwards, still facing him with my gun ready. I put 20 yards between us again but now I had nowhere to hide, I was in the middle of the clearing between the bull and the water hole. He put his head down and bluff charged, stopped, stretched his neck out and threw his head back. Then he turned back to tend to his cow. I stood there shaking, took a quick personal “inventory,” and watched him trail the cow up the hill. It was still early, so I took the next 2 hours to continue searching for my buck… always keeping one eye on the moose since they did not completely leave the area. Still no sign of my buck.
I returned to find the rest of my group admiring the nice buck that my brother had shot. He had brought up his 5 year old son after returning to work a half day on Friday. It’s a great buck & he let his 5 year old walk up on it with him. Needless to say my nephew thinks his dad is “more awesomer than Iron Man.”
I headed for home to provide my wife a needed break after being alone with our 4 small children since Tuesday.
I received a text from my brother telling me that Dad had shot a little 2 point for his first muzzleloader buck that afternoon. They had to look for 3 hours to find it. I wish I could have had the same ending! The story behind this little buck is the kind of stuff that lives on only in legend. He missed his first shot and killed the buck with his second. When butchering the deer they found the bullet in near perfect condition... no mushrooming, polymer tip intact, you could probably put it in a new sabot and shoot it again. The bullet entered just behind the front shoulder and was found in the cartilage just in front of the opposite rear leg. The mystery is since the bullet was recovered... why was there an exit hole? And not just one exit hole… but two? The gun kicked unusually hard the second time. We thought maybe he accidentally put 2 bullets down the barrel, but then he couldn't find his ramrod... so we figure in all the excitement he shot the ramrod as well, accounting for the exit wound. It wasn't a long shot, measured in feet rather than yards, so I guess it could be possible. It'll be a long time before he hears the end of this one! We still can’t wrap our heads around the event and have made additional trips & spent several hours trying to locate the ramrod to provide us some closure.
Day 7
I got the "all clear" to give it another try Tuesday night. So I headed for my little secret spot and sat where the moose chased me from. I was hoping that the weather front forecasted would have the critters up and moving a bit ahead of it. I arrived at my destination about 4:30 and sat until dark. As fate would have it I didn't have a single deer come down to water. Such is life & hunting I guess.
It was a great deer hunt. My grandfather has hunted since he was a little boy and proclaimed this year to "exceptional" in terms of the quantity of bucks and deer numbers in general. It seemed like every doe we saw had twins, so here's to hoping for another mild winter (but please let us have a wet spring!) and another good crop of youngsters next year. I know there are a lot of guys complaining about the full moon, etc. We definitely did not see the effects of it! We saw at least a dozen bucks every day & 3 of the 5 in my group tagged out with my buck being unrecovered... so 4 of 5 took shots. We have so many great stories from this hunt and Grandpa went home and told stories to Grandma for 3 hours, laughing to tears... she's going to write them all down.
Tuesday – “Opener Eve”
My brother (Darren), Cody, and I got to the cabin at about 6pm & Cody and I decided to take a quick ride on the ATVs to get our “deer eyes” back. We rode until dark and saw a bunch of does & fawns and an unusual 2x2 that was very tall on one side and tiny on the other. We all had to be home Saturday afternoon so we had to hit the ground running. Darren isn’t much of a hiker, so he decided to hang with Grandpa (and also keep an eye on him). They’d be road hunting most of the time. I had several months of trail cam pics and had been scouting on Google Earth with a Topo overlay throughout the summer so I had a long list of side canyons and bowls that I wanted to hike into. Cody agreed to hunt with me. The plan of attack was set and we watched Bourne Identity, which ended way too late.
Wednesday – Day 1
Cody & I headed out in the dark for the first bowl I wanted to explore. I’d been into it once before on the general elk hunt when I was in high school. We saw three very nice bucks at the time, but that was 18 years ago! It was next to impossible to walk quietly because of all the vegetation that was now dried and brittle. I got to my predetermined vantage point and had deer spooking all over the place. They were stomping and snorting from the bottom & when they took off I could only get fleeting glimpses as they bounded through the thick stuff. Once all the deer finally settled down (or moved out) I heard chirping coming up from the bottom. I wasn’t sure what kind of creature was down there. After a couple minutes a spike elk walked across a clearing at 200 yards. It had been years since we’d seen elk in the area & it hadn’t even occurred to me that it could be an elk, seeing one back in there was exciting. I had forgotten my elk calls on my dresser at home, and could have really had some fun with him had I not forgotten them. I eventually ended up at the very top of the bowl and saw several does & fawns and made my way down for lunchtime.
That afternoon I wanted to see somewhere brand new. I had seen what I thought was a small canyon on the south end of the property while scouting on Google Earth, so Cody & I decided to check it out. We dropped down into this canyon to find that it was enormous. There were three different saddles within the main bowl and multiple very heavily timbered side canyons. There was no way that we could hunt this thing effectively at first glance. So we just sat back and glassed for the evening. Obviously we weren’t in the right place because we didn’t see anything. I’d like to go back in there again, although it seems to be an area suited for the rifle hunter because of its openness, but if I could find a high traffic area in one of those smaller side canyons I bet it could be productive. It would be a bear to get a deer out of there so I’d have to know there’s a buck there worthy of that much work.
Thursday – Day 2
Cody & I decided to hike up to a saddle directly east of the cabin. We cleared a small clump of aspens and Cody spotted a 2 point broadside & skylined on the ridge at 112 yards. It was a very tempting shot, but ultimately I passed because we were still too close to the cabins. While on the saddle I could hear several bull moose grunting and snorting, this would be a common occurrence… moose were everywhere we turned. We saw 3 or 4 good mature bulls each day, I’d love to draw my moose tag and chase them with the smoke pole! Several hours passed & we hadn’t seen anything since the 2 point and decided to head back to the cabin. We met up with Gramps & Darren and decided that we’d attack a saddle directly west of the cabin. Darren & Gramps would be dropped off on top and work their way down while Cody & I would hike up from the bottom. I sat on the saddle as Cody, Darren & Gramps hiked around and pushed does and fawns all over the mountain… but no bucks. I had one doe come right down onto the saddle about 20 yards from me, she stood and looked around without any clue that I was sitting on my little chair up against a tree.
We decided to abandon that saddle after everyone was tired of walking around while I sat on my chair (they gave me a hard time about packing that little three legged folding stool up there, but it was sure nice) and try somewhere new again. So Cody & I headed to another saddle north of the cabin to sit until dark. We watched two impressive bull moose fight over a couple cows near the spring where I had my cameras all summer. The two bulls sparred for several minutes with the loser turning tail and running straight down the mountain towards us. We watched as he got to within 40 yards on a dead run and were both ready to protect ourselves with muzzleloaders at the ready, if he were to continue on his current path he’d run right over us. He made a sharp left at the creek bottom and headed out the bottom of the canyon. The winning bull must have had a surplus of adrenaline and hormones because he took out his remaining aggression on a small clump of aspens and broke several trees at the trunk. That was one impressive display of power. I had gotten pics of several good bucks up there, but with all the “moose activity” the spring was not going to be a productive area that evening. We saw 3 does (they watched the moose fight and the trees get leveled from a safe distance and moved to another area for their evening drink). Just before dark we heard a muzzleloader blast that sounded very close. Since we hadn’t seen much we headed down to see if that meant good news for someone we knew. I could see Gramps walking around on the road so I knew something had happened. When we got down to the road we found that Grandpa had sealed the deal on a great little 3 point.
But that’s only the beginning of the story. The tale began earlier in the evening as Darren and Gramps went up to the picnic area to check the bathrooms. While Gramps was stocking the toilet paper Darren saw a couple deer on the opposite hillside. They inspected them closely and found one small buck in the group. He took the 65 yard shot hitting the little buck in the neck then tracked him for several hundred yards and almost 2 hours. They lost the blood trail but pushed on looking for any little clue they could find, ultimately they lost & found the blood trail three separate times. The last time they lost the blood trail Darren was losing hope of finding his first buck, and that sick feeling began to settle into the pit of his stomach. They weighed the option of giving up and Grandpa went to get the side-by-side. While waiting for Gramps to come back, on a hunch Darren walked for several yards down the middle of the road. There, going across the road, was the blood trail and just off the road in the grass he spotted his little buck. I’m very proud of him for sticking with it, it’s not a big buck but your first buck is always a trophy. They loaded the little spike into the bed of the side-by-side and headed to the cabin to hang it in the basement. On the way back they crossed paths with Gramps 3 point. It was an exciting evening.
Friday – Day 3
Since Cody and I had walked up multiple mountains the previous two days, we were beat & decided to take it easy. So we had Darren drop us off at the top of an old spring road and walked down it. I ended up leaving the old road and hiked 2 draws south. My intentions of taking it easy were ignored in an effort to see more deer. As I walked down the ridgeline it seemed like deer would explode out from under every single pine or juniper along that ridge. They would snort first then bolt about a half second later. It took a couple deer startling me to get used to it, but all ended up being does or fawns. This is exactly why I gave up on pheasant hunting… I’m a nervous wreck as it is and with all the sudden commotion I’m the last person you want to have a firearm!
I took a solid nap that afternoon and decided to take it easy and just ride the roads in the evening. Heck it had worked the night before for Gramps and Darren, right? Since the weather was so nice, there were an awful lot of people coming in to enjoy their trailers or cabins one last time before the weather turned south. We saw a bunch of does and fawns… no bucks.
Saturday – Day 4
For our final morning we decided to revisit the bowl we hiked into on day 1, only we would leave about an hour earlier and hike all the way to my original vantage point before first light. Just as we reached that vantage point we spotted a cow elk skylined just above us. We sat on a rock outcropping glassing the upper reaches of the bowl. I spotted a doe, and just below her was a group of 4 bucks… two small 2 points, a small 4 point, and a really nice 4 point that looked wide and tall. I ranged them at 455 yards, well outside muzzleloader range… even outside my range with a rifle and powered scope. We only had a couple hours left before we needed to leave so there wasn’t much of a decision… we had to try and close the gap. Our only real option was to loop all the way around the top of the bowl keeping the deer in sight most of the time. We made it up to the northern most part of the bowl and almost level with them in elevation. I ranged the bucks again and was floored at the reading… 451 yards! We had covered probably 400 yards in distance but only gained 4 yards on the deer! Unfortunately, when we came out from the next small clump of aspens they were gone. Whether they had fed off over the top, spooked, or bedded down we didn’t know so we kept going. We got to within 120 yards of where we last saw them, but nothing. Since we had very little time remaining we walked down the middle of the bowl and checked out the terrain that looked so thick from the top. We came across this huge game trail. It had to be 15 to 20 feet wide and just covered in elk, deer, and moose tracks. There was so much traffic that hooves from big game had turned the dirt into a 2” deep soft powder, that’s a place that will get one of my cameras next spring for sure! Many trails split off from that so we followed different trails. I found several small meadows through the bottom where trails entered looking like spokes on a wheel. We eventually came to this wallow that was covered in elk track. Somebody obviously has spent some time there because we found a salt lick next to the wallow and a shovel stowed in the brush. Even though I could have used a new shovel, I left it where I found it. We made our way down the bowl without seeing anything, although we could hear deer bounding around us the entire time we walked.
That was it… we had worked our tails off. I had never hiked like that on a hunt, the soles of my boots need to be glued back on and my feet and knees are killing me. However, I had never seen that many deer. I have a new list of places that will be getting a visit in the spring to place my trail cams, and the excitement & anticipation will begin all over again. After the energy and time spent on the mountain I thought that I might somehow feel entitled and that I “deserved” to fill my tag. Such is not the case, they bested me this year and I am thrilled that they did. It was worth it, I am perfectly satisfied.
It’s more about the build up to opening day because let’s just say the actual pulling of the trigger was rather anticlimactic. It really wasn’t what we were expecting from a hunt on the Book Cliffs… but I hope it is at least entertaining.
Last spring I got a phone call from Cody with what he declared to be “huge news.” He told me a certified letter arrived that day & he’d drawn a Book Cliffs any weapon deer tag for 2010 from his unfilled ’09 Dedicated Hunter tag. He was excited & asked if I’d help out. Um, duh… stupid question, I sure would (although my wife wasn’t too pleased).
Through the summer, neither of us could find time to scout between family & work (we both had additions to our families in the summer making things really tough). He made one trip shortly after archery season & saw a handful of good bucks. During that trip he was sitting on the tailgate of his truck just after dark grilling hot dogs when a black bear decided to join him for dinner. It was a long uneasy night’s sleep for him in the bed of the pickup & decided that he’d rent an RV for the hunt. So we had to rely heavily on info that we got from the Northeastern DWR branch and internet forums.
We headed out from Layton on Thursday morning, picked up another guy (Jeremy) in Heber, and arrived in camp at the top of Rector Ridge about 3pm. We unloaded the ATVs & headed out to take advantage of the last few hours of light. We saw a small herd of elk with some really good bulls and three small bucks on Indian Springs Ridge. Nothing to get excited about & I was a little concerned... I had read on several forums that we should expect see 35-50 bucks per day & it would be a matter of finding “the best one.” We continued our scouting on Friday & put 120 miles on the ATVs, riding from Rabbit Mountain to Indian Springs Ridge and everywhere in between. We saw about 30 deer and ZERO good bucks, the biggest being a medium sized 3x3. We did run across a very nice bull elk on Rector Ridge, a beautifully symmetrical and wide 5x5 (I am a sucker for symmetry), but we weren’t hunting elk now were we!
Friday night we formulated a pretty weak game plan for opening morning based on what we’d seen (or better yet hadn’t seen) & lay in our beds listening to the National Weather Service warnings for the storm that would roll in the next day. I had been saying since noon Friday that we needed to get lower in elevation OR get off the ATVs and put down some boot leather, pushing harder for getting lower because of the forecasted weather. The DWR info we got hinted that deer would be starting to migrate, so we would be wise to find “transitional habitat” and we would know when we found it because deer would be everywhere. We had been spending most our time at elevations of 7200 to 8000 feet… let’s just say the deer WERE NOT everywhere! We rode some of the familiar roads opening morning and didn’t see any bucks. Cody would stop occasionally to ask me what we should do & I’d recommend to either get lower or get off the ATVs... but we would continue on our current path. After a frustrating morning we headed back for a snack & regroup. We decided to start looking lower. Either way, I was getting sick & tired of riding the ATVs. We chose a route through some lower sagebrush & juniper and headed out. As soon as my GPS read 6600 feet in elevation we started seeing deer… lots of them, herds of 8-15 does every couple hundred yards. We saw more deer in 500 yards than we had in a full day and half, it was only a matter of time before we saw some bucks. We came across a couple old guys that said they’d seen some good bucks in the area & passed on them, but a camp down the road had shot a really nice 4x4 that morning. When we drove past the camp “nice” was an understatement… deeply forked, wide, perfectly symmetrical, and chocolate antlered!
Wow. Talk about a shot of optimism. We decided to loop back & move camp. Mostly because we were seeing deer, but we were also nervous about having a rental RV at an elevation where the forecasts were projecting several inches of snow overnight.
We trailered one ATV & I took up the rear in the pickup, following Jeremy in the RV and Cody leading the way on ATV. A couple miles down the road, after seeing a handful of does, we spotted a good buck. I watched him bound through the clearing to my left then across the road in front of us. This was the nicest buck we’d seen so far. But he was running hard and in my hunting experience I thought that there was no way he was going to stop for a decent shot. I stopped behind the RV and saw the ATV angle off to the left… riderless, waited for a couple seconds (my view of Cody was blocked by the RV) and heard him fire. Out of the corner of my eye to the right, through a tiny opening in the brush I saw the buck drop. It’d stopped 30 yards off the road for a perfect broadside shot. We bailed out of the vehicles and the hooting, hollering, high fiving, and back slapping started… followed by the realization that it was 1:30 in the afternoon on opening day and the hunt that had built up expectations & excitement over the course of 6+ months was over. That wasn’t how we pictured it would go down at all, no spot ‘n stalk, no glassing, no passing up good bucks with hopes of a bigger one… just jump off the ATV and BLAM!!! Done. I retrieved the ATV & helped get the buck cleaned up.
With pics taken, we got loaded up as the storm started to roll in. Since we had camp all packed up we decided to try to beat the storm down the mountain. We spent the night on the banks of the Green River just outside Bonanza, cutting two hours off our drive home Sunday.
This was my first experience with a limited entry deer hunt. It didn’t work out like the dream hunt we were all anticipating, expecting to glass good bucks each day & choose which one we wanted. But with a good buck hanging on opening day we couldn’t complain. I’m certain that with a little more time we could have found something bigger and seen many more deer, but this is the biggest buck to date for him (and the biggest I’ve personally had a part in) so all involved are thrilled. We figure he’s a young buck, probably 3.5 years old & has a unique wide triangular antler configuration. All things considered it was a tag that he didn’t even put in for, fell bass ackwards into it with his unfilled Dedicated Hunter tag (first year even!), then shot it right off the side of the road. If I could only be as fortunate next year!
This was my first muzzleloader hunt, and my first deer hunt in several years so there is the need to provide a backstory and additional details leading up to the hunt. My family owns a cabin within a landowners association in northern Utah and we have hunted the area in some form or another since 1981. I remember being a young boy following my dad up and down the mountains there, complaining about being tired, cold, or hungry & being reprimanded for being too noisy. Time came for me to take Hunter’s Safety and start hunting myself. I carried my grandfather’s 7mm-08 as a youth, shooting only one deer (which I was unable to recover) until I served an LDS mission. While I was away, the Board of the landowner’s association changed things dramatically. There was heavy anti-hunting sentiment from several Board Members (most vocal was the President), so a compromise was made that only allowed archery and muzzleloader hunting (primitive weapons as they called it) on the property.
My brother (Darren) had picked up archery as a teenager, and I stayed in touch with one mission companion (Cody) that was also an outdoorsman & dabbled in archery. Archery was a tough prospect for us as we never could dedicate the time or money to feel like we would ever be successful at it. So, on it went for 4 or 5 years of purchasing tags sporadically and only being able to hunt a weekend or an occasional evening after work here or there. I shot a total of 3 arrows, hitting one buck but was unsuccessful at recovering it. So there you have it… 10+ years of hunting and I had 2 unrecovered bucks to show for it.
In the meantime, my grandfather had hunted with a muzzleloader every year since the Board made the changes and was successful nearly every year. After an annual fishing trip to the Provo River in November when we stopped at Cabela’s for lunch, we perused through the gun section and came across the muzzleloaders. We talked about how unsuccessful we had been with archery & how it seemed like Grandpa had gotten one every year. I just kind of shrugged it off. Hunting had slipped well down the list of hobby priorities for me, but we found that Cabela’s had a budget package at the time for the Remington Genesis muzzleloader with a mail in rebate that brought the total cost of the outfit under $100. Darren, Cody, and I each looked at each other and thought, “Why not?”
Over the summer, we shot a couple times to get sighted in. I hadn’t fired a gun in years and had only fired a muzzleloader once before on a Young Men’s Church outing when I was 14 years old. The first time you shoot a muzzleloader is a bit intimidating… there’s something about holding a miniature canon inches from your face and wondering if it will actually end well. Grandpa and Darren were there to witness that first shot. I yanked the trigger and nothing happened… I didn’t know I had to pull the hammer back. I pulled the hammer back and yanked the trigger but nothing happened again… I forgot to take the safety off. I took the gun off safety, aimed and pulled the trigger. Blue smoke poured out of the barrel, I looked at Darren and started to laugh. Not the “that was funny laugh,” but the “oh… my… gosh… that… was… awesome!!!” laugh. I asked Grandpa where I hit. The conversation went something like this:
“Where did I hit?”
“Well, where were you aiming?”
“I don’t know. I closed my eyes… I got scared.”
Then we did the “that was funny” laugh.
After that first shot it got easier and as I gained confidence with my new weapon I fell in love with black powder. I never understood how guys could just spend time shooting and say that they enjoyed it so much… now I know why.
We missed the big game drawing that year so Darren, Cody, and I each purchased a northern region muzzleloader deer tag over-the-counter and let Grandpa know that he’d have some company for the hunt this year. He seemed pleased, and preparations were made for the hunt. As usually happens, family things popped up, we would need to come home right in the middle of the hunt for a wedding, and Darren just started a new job so he had little vacation time to use. We would hunt a combination of Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday.
Opening morning found Cody, Grandpa, and me piling into my grandpa’s Saturn Vue and heading down the road at first light. Not 500 yards down the road Cody spotted a little buck right off the side of the road. Grandpa stopped the car and told me to get out & shoot it.
All I could think about were the two bucks that I had previously shot but was unable to recover. Both instances made me sick to my stomach and I must have been thinking about it for a while ‘cause Grandpa and Cody were both starting to get anxious wondering why I hadn’t shot yet. I finally had to tell myself to do it, so I aimed and pulled the trigger. The buck lurched and jumped high into the air. I did not know where he went so I reloaded quickly. We scrambled around for a bit and saw the doe that was with him running a long ways up the hill. We looked and looked for several minutes but couldn’t find anything. I decided to try and find where the buck was standing when I shot him. The spot was obvious and I followed the blood trail for a few short yards until I found him piled up in the sagebrush on the backside of a small rise about 10 yards from the road. The shot was rather steeply uphill & I had hit him perfectly, the bullet entered slightly low just behind the front shoulder and exited a touch high out the opposite shoulder, obliterating every organ in the “boiler room.”
We cleaned him up quickly because we were so close to the road and took care of the pictures back at the cabin. So there it was… my first buck ever, not the biggest buck on the mountain for sure but my trophy nonetheless. We had left the cabin at first light and had my buck hanging in the basement and back out driving around by 8:30am. We continued to hunt through the rest of the week and I was the only one to fill the tag, I think mine was the only buck that we saw. It’s proof that you’re never too old to cut out the notches on your tag for the first time.
