Girls gone wild Part I

I took a week off of work to vacation with two different girls, my wife and my sweet mama.  They both happened to draw tags for some exciting hunts both scheduled for the same week but in different states and  different species. Could we pull off  being successful on both hunts nearly a thousand miles apart and still be back to work the next week?

On a Friday, we packed the kids into the pickup and headed off to our first destination, Emily's mule deer hunt. We met my parents who were loving enough to drive to Oregon, pick up the kids, only to turn the truck around and head back to Utah, where they would wait (patiently) for Emily to kill her buck so that we could  continue to Utah and begin on my mom's mountain goat hunt. Yes, that's right, Emily had a mule deer tag and my mom had a goat tag, does it get much better?

As my parents' red pickup, loaded with three overly-tired of riding in a truck, pink-eye-ridden kids slowly faded away in a desert mirage, Emily and I were suddenly alone (something that doesn't occur too often) and feeling a bit guilty handing-off our children under the circumstances. In shorttime, our guilt was replaced with images of big bucks and anticipation and we were finally on our way to spend a few days together in some of Oregon's most remote mountains. We set camp in the higher elevations and with dry, warm weather, we didn't even need to pitch a tent; instead we laid down the tailgate and from our sleeping bags from the bed of the pickup we'd fall asleep watching a romantic full moon rise at our feet. The moonlight and coyote serenades were just the ticket for the evening.

Making our house a home

The area has been known for some big mule deer, but like many mule deer units across the west, it has gone downhill in quality and has been living off of it's old reputation now for several years. As always, I wasn't really there for the biggest buck on the mountain nor was I there to tell Emily which buck to shoot...she's a big girl and and she has enough bucks under her belt to decide if she is ready to pull the trigger or not.

Emily took a hike, saw some bucks and was excited to find a couple sheds. 

"I see deer"

The first morning found us 350 yard shot from a great buck. But there were two other hunting parties after the same buck. This was not how she wanted to remember her hunt, in a hurry and in competition with other hunters to take the buck. She elected not to shoot, which I'm sure the hunter that ended up killing the big 4x4 would have been appreciative of her choice if they would have known we were there. For the next day and a half we saw a good number of bucks and a great number of people. The unit may be fairly limited on the amount of tags provided, but each tagholder seemed to have 6-10 other "helpers" in their party looking for bucks as well. Still, our experience was awesome as we enjoyed each sunrise and sunset.

The fire that ravaged this region just months prior swallowed up a major portion of the unit leaving historically prime deer habitat looking like the moon; however, I was happy to see - even with the lack of rain - the resilience of some of the flora remnants that remained. Although it was burned to a crisp, there was enough life harbored in the root systems to reignite new growth...and the deer enjoyed the succulent new leaves left by the burn.

Cheers to a brighter future

Emily can be picky, whether it is buying shoes or selecting which buck to shoot. She carefully inspected each buck pointing out why it wasn't "the one".  I began to wonder "What have I created?" and "I'm glad she wasn't this picky when choosing a husband". I began thinking we are going to be here the entire hunting season at this rate because I really don't think this unit holds a deer that fits her expectation.

One of the heaviest burned areas on the mountain range

But as it goes, time away from home, the hot afternoon sun, lots and lots of dust, cold mornings, and an itchy trigger finger began to wear on her drive to keep hunting for "the one", and suddenly I sensed her standards were beginning to weaken. We were driving along an old two-track road in the Ranger and I spied a patch of Mahogany that looked ripe for bedded bucks. I stopped the vehicle and thought we should hike over the edge and glass a bit.



The remote desert can beat you up pretty good even after just a couple of days.

As we approached the mahogany,  a buck jumped 10 yards away from within and bailed into the canyon below and out of sight. I scrambled to the edge to catch the buck sneaking into a patch of aspen. The patch was surrounded on three sides by ash from the fire. The backside was a rocky ridge that the buck could sneak out of the trees without us really seeing it well.  Emily was on the sticks and ready to inspect/shoot the buck if it showed itself.

The aspen grove from where the buck was killed. Emily was positioned out of the picture to the right.

The noon sun was warm on our faces as we talked quietly. "I don't think it has come out of those aspens" I whispered. "This is how I pictured my hunt Michael. I enjoy the pursuit. I might shoot that buck." she replies quietly opening the action to make sure a bullet was chambered. My mind races with a million thoughts. I love spending time with Emily alone hunting mule deer. I don't know if I want her to kill this buck, It would mean the end of our hunt. But do I tell her not to shoot when she is ready to kill? This is her hunt. I hesitantly reveal "Maybe I could maybe take a walk around the backside of the aspens and maybe push the buck out to you maybe for a better look...maybe, or we can just keep going?" Silence...

"Okay, I'll be ready if you want to push the aspens" she said.

At that point I knew if I went over to the aspens I had signed this buck's death warrant, she was most likely going to shoot and knowing Emily she won't miss.. I turned and looked at Emily one last time and I could see she was ready for the hunt to end. She was smiling and already wore a look of relief, as if she lifted a weight off of her or had made a decision she was 100% content with. I happily made my way towards the aspens.

I began to wonder if the buck was still around as I had almost pushed the entire aspen grove when, like a flushed grouse, the buck sprung from the thicket trying like hell to make distance between me and him across  the canyon of ash. I pulled the binoculars up and saw it's beautiful dark antlers and heavy, mature body stotting up the hill. For a second I thought about yelling up to Emily that he's a great buck but we could find bigger...but why?

I swung the binoculars uphill towards Emily just in time to see her pull the rifle to her shoulder, this would be her first attempt killing a buck without me by her side. The buck slowed down fully-confident it had outrun me and as he came to a brief standstill looking back my direction at the perceived threat, which in reality I was just an impostor, a phony, a fake decoy with intentions to fool this buck into standing exactly where it now stood. The ol' veteran was unaware that just above him merely 180 yards perched the real threat and I knew the next few seconds would dictate if this buck would live another day or come home with us; whether it was time for us to pack up and leave camp or stay and keep hunting. It was all in Emily's hands now...I slightly jumped from the impact of the copper bullet slamming the warrior. From my angle the bullet impact hit my ears before the report of the rifle. The hunt was suddenly over.

I know I might sound a bit disappointed that she had shot this deer, but nothing could be further from the truth. I might have the dream of one day wrapping my hands around a monster mule deer buck, but I measure my hunts mostly on the overall experiences shared on the mountain including the pursuit. Alongside of the buck,we spent some time reflecting on the significance of where we were and what we were doing, the different scars on the buck's body, it's abnormal hoof, the curves in it's antlers. We wondered the stories and experiences this buck could share if we could communicate. What an animal. What a hunt.

Holding her head high and proud

A glory ride back to camp. 

Stay tuned for Part two of Girls gone wild with grandma pursuing mountain goat...