On my birthday in 2023, was the first time I laid eyes on Avalanche. I was with Hunter at over 10,000’ archery elk hunting. I wasn’t expecting to see a deer, let alone an old, big framed buck!
I motioned Hunter over as the buck snuck through the edge of the pines, just out of view. At 400, he had to cross an opening and we both gasped for air. Deep forks and some trash on a beautiful frame! He looked in his prime as he disappeared over a ridge.
Neither of us had time to try and get any video, we just wanted to log in to our memory the sight of his majesty. We talked about the buck for weeks, and how hard he’d be to kill, especially with a bow. I was busy with other deer and elk hunts and never hunted the buck in 2023. The only way to see him would be to find him in a couple avalanche chutes on his slope, that were surrounded by heavy timber. We named the buck Avalanche.
The following spring, Emily and I made a summer hike with trail cameras and batteries. I wanted to see if Avalanche would, once again, call this high country basin his home. On July 13th, my first official picture of Avalanche showed up. Even only half-grown, I immediately recognized his antler shape, but instead of dreaming of him blowing up from last year, it appeared that his frame wasn’t going to reach the same size as I remembered him the year before.
As the summer rolled by, Avalanche would show up every couple of days on one of three cameras. These cellular cameras were placed in travel routes I assumed were between bedding and feeding. His frame grew and grew into a beautiful buck that would gross around 178-180”.
Only someone that has watched the same buck consecutive years learns to appreciate and admire an individual animal. Every bump in his antlers, the notches in their ear. their daily schedules. It’s a real one way relationship, where only one of the parties is even aware of the other’s existence! It kinda feels like The Truman Show.
I knew I could get pictures of this deer, but there is a reason he is still alive. Archery or rifle, he lives in a spot that makes him hard to find and hunt due to thick timber and very few ridges to glass into the few open areas. In 2024, the same summer, I found Sir Rocko 160 miles away and killed him on September 2nd.
My last picture of Avalanche in 2024 was October 27th. He was thick necked and still hanging with his buddies, on the edge of rutting season. The landscape was bare of snow that day, but snowed days after. I wondered all fall and winter whether he was killed by a hunter, a lion, or possibly winter, being that I believe he is “over the hill” in age.
2025, I questioned whether I should run trail cameras back up to see if Avalanche was still around. The part of me that didn’t want to set up cameras wasn’t out of laziness. It was more the fear of Avalanche not being there and the disappointment.
I climbed the 3 mile, 2,000’ climb and set 2 cameras. Really, only one after I failed getting a good angle on one of the cameras. It would catch a big bulls head, but angled too high for deer! Doh!
On July 5th and 10th, Avalanche’s most trusted bud, a wide 3x4 (4x4 last year) showed up on the camera. He was hanging with a smaller deer I’ve never seen. Changing of the guard? Does this mean Avalanche is gone? These bucks were nearly inseparable last year.
July 14th, I finally got the picture I longed for. An old friend. Avalanche was alone. His body is overly large, but showing signs of beyond his prime. His antlers carried mass, and although he still packed 4” eye guards and long beams, his frame appears maybe even more compact than in 2024. He lost his left g3 but was growing a new inline on his right beam. It was still mid July and he had plenty of time to blow up.
I saw moose, elk, coyotes, and snowshoes but as time went on, it was obvious that Avalanche didn’t spend even close to the amount of time around the camera as he did the year before. I don’t know the reason why he visited less frequent or wasn’t hanging with his cronies. I finally caught my last pic of Avalanche, just a small piece of his antlers walking under the camera on Sept. 30th. This was the last time I have seen Avalanche.
This year, with Alaska and elk, I missed out on my favorite hunt, high country early-season deer hunt. I figured this would be the year I’d hunt Avalanche. Where Avalanche lives, the season starts October 15. It snowed a few days before I could make it up there. It’s is a chore to reach his haunts, even more of a chore with slick snow.
I ended up spending 6 long days above, below, and all around his basin in October during rifle season. Hunter came along on one trip. The rest I was solo. In 6 trips, I think I saw 15-20 deer total, and I believe the deer I saw were migrants that had moved in on their trek to their wintering grounds.
The last evening, I sat on a snow-covered rock pile at 10,000’, and as the sun hung low, I was a solid 4 miles from my machine, and it was bitter cold. A solid 160” buck was following 4 does right through Avalanche’s timber. I had suspected Avalanche had moved down into the thicker timber, but after 6 days, I conjectured he left the country entirely. I never did see avalanche nor his wide buddy.
I wanted to continue hunting him; however the drives, hikes and the lack of deer were taking a toll on me. I decided for the last day of season, I’d make a quick trip up another canyon and glass from down low and make a move if I glass up a buck.
It paid off, on the last evening I found myself 800 yards from a solid buck. He was bedded along the edge of cover until 20 minutes before dark. When he stood, I prepared for a shot. The wind was a very light right to left coming down the canyon. The 4-point stepped into the opening feeding. I pressed the trigger and the buck folded like a 5$ folding chair.
He slid over some cliffs and quickly disappeared into the steep timber below. With just minutes before dark, I would need to cross a knee-deep river and climb a nearly vertical slope full of blowdowns in order to retrieve the buck.the task would be difficult in daylight hours but nearly impossible at night.
I made the tough decision to leave the mountain and be back at first light with chest waders. I made the right decision. When I finally made it to where I last seen the buck sliding, I could see where it hit the timber but there was no buck there.
My heart skipped a beat. I had videoed the shot and watched it a hundred times on my phone. I knew the bullet drifted slightly more than I wanted, but it looked to be a lethal shot. I found blood and where the buck staggered in the snow. I dropped my pack and was only packing my chest pistol for a firearm. I got a line on the tracks and looked up to see the buck bedded watching me.
I slowly tried to get an angle for a pistol shot when he stumbled to his legs and crashed though the downfall. I chased like a lion in ambush. The buck only had gone 10 yards and was in bad shape. I put the final round through him, thankful he was immobile enough to not get away.
I’m still not sure how he didn’t bleed out as the bullet did a fine job terminally. The steep upward angle went in just above mid-body and broke his back in the exit side. What mattered was I found the buck and for that I was extremely thankful.
I always enjoy processing a deer in the middle of nowhere by myself. Honestly, the buck didn’t have any ground growage, if anything he probably shrunk a little. He’s a buck, probably 4.5 yo and not as big of body as western Wyoming deer. But I couldn’t have been more proud of him. Very thankful, at 49 years old I can make such memories in wild country. The packouts are getting harder and I take a few more rests.
Avalanche has no clue I exist. I am certain he never saw or smelled me all season. He lives in a place where I don’t think he saw a hunter all season. I believe he’s still alive and that brings me hope and joy. I hope his rutting season was busy and productive. I hope his winter is mild and without any close calls with lions. I hope next spring returns to his summer ground.
I’m certain I will throw a camera up there this next spring. I’m not certain I’ll hunt Avalanche, but my wish is he’ll be able to spend another summer up high….living the good life.
