Blacktail success 2012

There is something mysteriously appealing about the blacktail buck. A combination of  behavior, habitat, and looks make them one of the most stunning of all the animals on the planet, especially when decked out in his striking fall coat. 

Melrose Unit, November 2012

I was able to pull the trigger on a great blacktail buck this year, but perhaps even more exciting than my hunt were the other great hunts I shared with friends and family making 2012 a year for my record book.

My blacktail season started early this summer volunteering time with ODFW, who were darting, capturing, and collaring deer for a research project. Wouldn't you know, the one deer that the shooter was able to dart happened to be an old, heavy buck. It was an uneasy feeling stumbling through the thick forest and finding the buck in solid darkness by following it's loud breathing (snoring). I found the old guy laying unconscious in a patch of poison oak.  While bolting the GPS collar around the buck's neck, it was unlike any other feeling wrapping my hands around the soft velvet while warm blood still pumped through the antler veins.  

ODFW Biologist gathering the data from the collar and the buck

Hunter had the first blacktail hunt with a general season tag. We enjoyed a couple outings in familiar places including some fall bear hang-outs where I've seen behemoth velveted bucks...in August...before they shed their velvet and transform into an incredibly frustrating, nocturnal, nearly-impossible animal to hunt.

Hunter hiking back towards pick-up after glassing a  large clear-cut

We had the misfortune of watching another hunter kill a respectable coastal buck from right under our noses one rainy morning. That evening we hiked three miles into timberground that looked to have very strong potential as it hadn't seen much pressure. We hunted it hard but didn't even see a deer. Hunter maintained a good attitude and we enjoyed the experience...but we were needing to make something happen since Emily's mule deer season was drawing near.

Fall clear-cuts. I've seen some big bucks in this unit before season

We decided we better hit an area we keep in our back-pocket...you know, for when times get tough. Our first outing there produced a few does and as we were driving out at dusk, I noticed a white-faced deer bedded just off the dirt road. "Buck!" I whispered. It was a wide two-point buck. Hunter tried to make an approach but the buck busted him and scurried into the timber. The young hunter wasn't real happy about that.

We found ourselves in the same spot the next evening as the sun was dropping over the horizon. We'd been watching the area where the buck was seen the previous night but  weren't having much luck. "If he's not going to come out, lets go in after him", I whispered to Hunter. We carefully tip-toed into the dry oak and fir forest. The acorns and leaves under our boots made it impossible to be quiet. Hunter was right behind me, obviously annoyed by his dad who was moving along at sloth speed. I had just explained to Hunter that we need to take time and scan each opening with every step when downhill from our position a mere 50 yards, I saw it. I saw the white face of an alert buck burning a hole right through me. I confirmed it had forks and Hunter took over from there.

Squeeze, squeeze the trigger!! I was yelling in my head. His shot rang true and the buck was hit perfectly behind the shoulder.

We hadn't moved more than 80 yards through the forest before spotting and killing the buck. We sat and admired the buck for a moment when the sound of hooves on oak leaves rustled our way. My jaw dropped as a doe chased by a much, much bigger buck ran within 10 yards of us in the fading light.

Hunter was holding his buck's head up while watching the big buck scamper into the darkness. His eyes widened and replied, "Oh well, I couldn't be happier!". I was proud of his response. He'd have his turn at a bigger buck someday.

He field-dressed the buck and I reminded him he has one more buck tag this year. He smiled and said he'd make sure the next buck would be bigger. I smiled. I turned the back loins into steaks, roasted the ribs, and burgered the remainder. This was our first deer of the 2012 season and much needed as we had just run out of burger from 2011! Thanks Hunter.

Can you see Steve?

After Hunter and Emily's hunts, I hunted some big Cascade country for blacktail with a good friend. We didn't kill a buck that day but we did get to make some hikes in some incredibly expansive and beautiful country. My next blacktail adventure would be my hunt, a muzzleloader tag in the rut.

A cougar-killed buck. I watched this buck in Nov. 2011 chasing does during the rut. I found the antlers 100 yards from where I'd last seen the buck the year prior

On the first morning of my smokepole hunt, I knew exactly where I wanted to be. The only problem was another hunter beat me to it. So, I went to the number two spot on my list of spots I wanted to hunt...somebody was parked there as well. I drove towards another spot when a small herd of does and a sneaky buck vanished into the scrub along the side of the road.

I drove further up the road and then, on-foot, I tip-toed back to where the deer were. I didn't see the same buck but I couldn't believe my eyes when below the trail stood an ol' heavy-antlered toad of a buck. His point lengths were obviously short, but easily made up for it in mass and main beams! I hesitated since it was a long poke (180 yard poke) for my smoke pole but knowing I couldn't get closer, I laid my bi-pod down and talked myself into shooting since the week before I'd target shot at 140 yards with great results.

ssssshhhheeeeeBANG!! The smoke cleared and the buck just froze. I smashed another bullet down the bore faster than Jeremiah Johnson in a grizz fight and brought the muzzleloader back to my shoulder. I assumed I had hit the buck good and he was in bad shape but ol' heavy was just staring at me...like he wanted to kick my ass. I brought the rifle down and pulled my binocs up. The buck was stiff-legged with ears laid back. Gut shot? I questioned. The buck stepped forward and began to rake a helpless serviceberry showing me who was the king of this mountain. I shook my head in confusion. Was I angry at myself for missing? embarrassed? Nah, honestly I was just tickled to be out hunting and to see such a buck. For reasons that are hard to explain, I decided not to shoot again. I tried to get closer but failed never to see the king again. I'm certain he still rules from his throne, tucked inconspicously under some buck brush overlooking his steep and rugged palace.

On the way back  to the pick-up, the buck I had spotted earlier with the does that morning showed himself at 140 yards. I could have gotten closer but I decided to pass on the buck and just take a picture with my compact camera, especially after just missing a much bigger buck. Hey, it was still the first day!!!

The buck I passed up opening morning after missing a much larger buck

With 4 tag holders at camp, there was lots of excitement. Although it didn't seem like the rut was in full swing it was nice to see 40+ deer in a day. On day two I spent the morning with a friend hiking back into a location where we've seen great bucks in the past. We did manage to see some deer but the rut action was light still and the deer weren't out much.

I was the first hunter in camp to luckily stumble upon a good buck. I was only given a shot from the throat patch up, and I've learned sometime you need to take the shot when the opportunity is given, otherwise you may not get another. I steadied the bead around the base of the head and squeezed the trigger. The 385 grain Great Plains lodged between the skull and vertebrae in the buckskin on the backside which made for "light's out" immediately. He's a solid buck, one that would be hard to pass up.

I am tickled to wrap my tag around such a nice blacktail buck. After I had killed I headed home for a week to cut meat and catch up at work and home. If I had any free time I drove around home and took pictures of rutting bucks, but I couldn't help but head back to smokepole camp as the other hunters hadn't killed yet. I got to hunt with my good friend Mike Roberts for the day. It was an enjoyable day with plenty of deer sightings including some smaller bucks. We had made several small hikes following tracks and sightings. We even banged the rattle-horns together a few times but didn't have a chance at a great buck until that evening. We just left some steep terrain that has produced some buck sighting in the past, when I'd seen a white-faced buck standing in some thick oaks downhill from the road.

Mike made a sneak back towards the buck and after looking it over closely, to my disbelief he passed on one of the larger 3-point framed bucks I've ever seen at 30 yards! The buck was obviously old in age, had massive bases with some extra points near the eyeguards, and beams that flared wide and tall. The forks were crabby and although Mike was impressed with the buck he wanted a 4-point buck and he elected to pass the buck. I don't think I could have or would have passed such a buck but I certainly have respect for someone who is willing to pass up such an buck after a week of hard-hunting and not getting a chance at anything bigger than that stud.

Indigo Unit  November 2012 4x4 blacktail cruisin' for does

Blacktails know how to use thick cover and are difficult to find even when they are closeby.

A handsome 3-point buck watching over a hot doe, 2012

The next morning I got to watch Mike anchor this heavy, gnarly buck. Truthfully, this buck's frame doesn't compare to the buck's wide frame he passed up the evening prior, but I will agree this is a much prettier buck: Long eyeguards, lots of gnarly bumps, and heavy points.



All of the hunters ended up killing their bucks and each being a respectable buck. I'm already looking forward to the next time I draw the smokepole tag. 

After the smokepole hunt I still had blacktail on the brain and it wouldn't be until Dec.15th before Hunter's late any-deer tag would start. To get my deer-hunting fix, I tagged along with good friend Jim Godfrey and spent a half day rattling bucks with him, who had a bow tag. We never did connect on a buck that day but boy did we have fun rattling in 3 bucks and stumbling upon an old cougar kill buck with some mass.  

Speaking of mass, around the time I was hunting with Jim, good friend Trapper was rattling for his brother Ted who was packing his bow. On the second stand, Trapper rattled in the buck of both their lifetimes while Ted kept enough compusure to connect with the big buck as it passed him at 25 yards. What a year for big bucks! Trapper is the kind of a guy that can make dreams like this turn into a reality.

Ted and his monster Oregon archery buck

Last but not least

A couple weeks went by since my last blacktail experience. To kill time, I pulled out the shotgun and put some fowl on the dinner table, and then caught word the steelhead were showing up in droves in nearby rivers and suddenly blacktail hunting was on the backburner of my mind. However, I knew I'd have to resurrect  blacktail fever since Hunter's buck hunt was coming up followed by a cow elk hunt. Well, Hunter's hunt finally arrived and it was time to get serious about deer hunting again. I contemplated hunting some lower oak ground that was private for this hunt but decided I wanted to show Hunter a buck hunt where we could hike into big, expansive timberground and be miles from anyone. I had the perfect place in mind...

A mixture of different age fir stands + good browse =  blacktail habitat

We pulled up to a locked gate well before morning light. I opened the truck door and could hear the steady wind rushing through the fir limbs above making it feel even colder than the 39 degrees that read on my thermometer. We loaded our packs with tuna sandwiches, waterproof gear, knives, extra .257 Wby ammunition, meat bags, headlamps, and our binoculars. This may be a full day hunt and we were prepared. We hiked on a logging road nearly a mile before it was even light enough to see a deer. I was happy with the amount of deer sign along the banks of the road.

Just as light broke, we spooked some deer and caught glimpses of white as they bounced in and out of sight through the timber. I had looked at the area pretty closely the evening before on satellite imagery and knew where these deer were headed, so we put our faces into the brisk wind and continued. We climbed to a  high spot and sat in the wet, red clay overlooking a clear-cut across the canyon.

There was obvious sign of deer using the area

Once again I saw deer bounding along the edge of the clear cut and disappear into a forest of young fir. The last deer in the bunch was a great big buck. I yelled with excitement for Hunter to be ready with the shooting sticks. We stayed put watching and hoping the buck would show itself while the air grew colder. We were content watching some does and suddenly it began to snow! The flakes were big like someone had  plucked a big, white goose overhead. It was the first snowfall of the season.

It wasn't long before we couldn't glass anymore with the heavy snow falling, so we continued on our adventure. I was tickled that I'd already seen a big buck but wished Hunter could have seen it. I whispered, "It went into some thick reprod, but if were lucky maybe it'll be on the road in there and we'll see it again...be ready." Hunter knew I was blowin' smoke just trying to make him feel like he still had a chance of seeing Mr. big..even if it was a very, very slight chance.

We had walked a quarter mile with thick fir trees lining both sides of the logging road when we came to a road junction where a small spur road headed left. Naturally, I looked up the road since it was open and although it was snowing hard and visibility was limited, something looked out of place. I grabbed the binos and when my eyes focused they nearly popped out of my head. "Hunter, Big Buck, BIG BUCK,BIG BUCK. SHOOT.SHOOT! SHOOT!!!" Through the heavy snowfall, I could see the front end of a buck. His black brow and white face was looking our direction. It was magical. Hunter lifted his rifle and flipped open the scope covers. "I can't see cause the snow!" his rifle swayed in the wind gusts. "Well, look harder!" I replied excitedly. I don't know if I'll ever outgrow the adrenaline rush and excitement that comes with being in the moment of truth.

"I can't hold still!" He barked as he pulled the magnification back on his scope. All his barking and  excitement made me think buck fever might be heriditary. "It ain't gonna stay there much longer...now here, use my shoulder as a rest". I lent him my left shoulder and my mind rambled, Oh boy, this could go wrong real quick with this barrel so close to me and what if  I don't plug my ears? But who's gonna watch the buck through binocs if I plug my... KaBoom! My ears were ringing I'm sure but I hadn't noticed. With the binocs still glued to my face I saw the buck was still standing there! "Shoot again Hunter, you missed! Hurry!" Hunter jacks another round into the chamber "Dad, I can't see anything with the snow!" He rubs the foggy scope lens with a wet finger, lifts the barrel onto my shoulder again and this time I plugged my ears...like that was going to help.

The buck dropped at the report of the rifle. Hunter looked at me, I looked at him with a smile and a head nod. "No frickin way Dad!" My boy flung his arms around me knowing he'd just killed a great big blacktail buck. I was speachless.We walked up on the buck. "Dad, I would have been more steady if I didn't use your shoulder, I think you were shaking more than I was!". Lots of emotions. We were responsible for taking this buck's life. A buck who lived to an old age by outsmarting the elements, the predators...both two and four-legged kinds. The buck made one bad move and a 13 year old boy was given a window. "Dad, I don't deserve this big buck. Do I? It was too easy. We've only hunted for an hour or two and there he was magically standing in the only open spot in a forest of thick reprod." Hunter confessed maybe feeling a bit of guilt while admiring his kill. 

I told him that we make our own luck, we make our own opportunity. We woke up early, we hiked quietly up this mountain before light, we fought the snow squalls, we put effort in all year through tag applications, prepping the rifle, finding areas to hunt, etc. to ensure that we could be right here...right now...and when that window of opportunity arose, we made sure we've done everything we could so that you'd be ready to make the connection. "Do you see any other kid up on this cold mountain this morning that deserves this buck more than you? Of course you deserve this buck Hunter". Yup, I'd say it was a successful year for blacktail

A handsome, honey-colored cape and a perfect white muzzle/black brow contrast in the face

One super proud father

Hunter with his trusty .257

Don't tell Hunter but I'm pretty sure his pack weighed more than mine. He packed the cape, head, front shoulders and backstraps and learned how to cut-up a deer the gutless style.

Heading back to the main logging road. You can see the junction ahead where Hunter made the shot from.