- Joined
- Jan 28, 2003
- Messages
- 13,326
Last season deer,
We hunted down in southeastern Co just about 1 mile from the Kansas border. There is very limited public access in this unit and we were hunting small chunks of walk in access and a couple of SWA areas. There is however an abundance of deer that cross these areas and with a little luck you can get yourself a shot at a legal deer.
We'd hunted for several days and had missed an opportunity at a fairly large mule deer several days before. Mostly due to my poor guiding, well truth be known totally due to my poor guiding. I had spotted a herd of mule deer and looked them over seeing nothing but does and several immature bucks. I asked my daughter if she was interested in making a stalk for practice and to have a better look at the herd. She eagerly agreed and we made a masterful stalk into about 80 yards to the closest deer in the herd. My daughter was just behind and to my right and we were enjoying watching the deer mulling around and browsing. I wasn't really paying attention not taking the hunting serious like I usually do when I am in taking the kids out hunting mode and not in my usual full alert guiding or hunting mode, when all of a sudden to our left about 100 yards away I spot some antler tips, big pearl tipped gnarly heavy duty antler tips, sticking up out of the grass the grey face below those tips is alert and looking at us. I instantly realize that I have just made a BIG MISTAKE we are BUSTED and that is one serious hunk of mule deer buck watching us.
My girl is about ten feet off to my right and slightly behind me watching the main herd mill about. I'm desperately trying to get her attention when all at once we get busted by the main herd and they come to full alert, the mature buck stands up, he's a full grown trophy mule deer, good mass excellent length and width, a 185"+ class buck. He is staring right at us and I'm trying to get my daughter into a position to take a shot. I've got her attention now and she is belly crawling trying to get clear for the shot when all heck breaks loose and the deer start to blow out. She gets on the buck who is stiff legged trotting now but not quite into full blow out mode. Just as she is getting ready to take a shot on the big boy, he joins up with a does. She holds her fire as she doesn't want to risk a moving shot in a herd. This quickly becomes a story of the big one that got away. My daughter nick names the big buck "Gynormico" as we watch him bound away and out of our lives forever.
As we are walking back to the truck my daughter angrily mentions that "maybe I should take deer hunting with her a bit more serious, like you do when hunting with real people!" She is visibly upset. I realize at this moment that this child has grown into a serious and dedicated hunter and that this stuff is actually very important to her. I am proud to be her dad and am proud of the time we've spent together in the field hunting throughout the years from when she was a little baby until now, she's become an independent strong young woman and this stuff means a lot to her. I meekly apologize to her and make a silent promise to myself to do a better job of hunting with my kids from now on. these girls are no longer just out with dad to be with dad, they have become hunters!
We spend the next three days in vain searching for Gynormico but he is gone and we never see him or his herd of girls again. This was without a doubt the most painful screw up of my hunting career. I had a world class deer in easy shooting range on crappy public land a one in a million situation and I let a my inattention and lack of focus get the best of me and I let my daughter down until this moment I hadn't taken my girls interest in hunting serious, it was a wakeup call for me, my children are growing up. But it is what it is and what happened, happened so we decided to move on and concentrate on other deer.
We hunted hard and passed up a couple of smaller bucks and finally we got down to the last afternoon of the hunt. We had put in a great sneak to a spot where the deer had been coming out every afternoon but we hadn't been able to get on them. So we went out early in the afternoon and got into position well before the time when the deer had been coming out. We sat silently for several hours and just as the sun was starting to go down we were rewarded with three buck that came bounding out of the brush line into the open.
I looked them over and none were big bucks but all three were legal. I told my daughter that she was welcome to take anyone of them or she could pass her choice. She thought about it for awhile and decided that she'd like to take a buck as it was our last night and we could use the meat. I ranged the closest one at 205 yards. And watched as my hunter calmly slid the safety forward sucked in a breath and let it half way out. I transitioned my eyes to the buck and watched as she sent a 165 gr Sierra into his boiler room. The buck jumped into the air and in typical whitetail fashion bolted into the thick brush and disappeared. I asked her how she felt about her shot. She just smiled and gave me thumbs up. She knew as well as I did that her little purple zebra stripped custom .308 had scored again. The blood trail was heavy and easy to follow for about 50 yards where we found the buck dead. We had enough light to drag him out and get some pictures and were happy to see mom and little sis headed our way. They had heard the shot and had left their hunting spot to come over and give us a hand.
How'd your shot go? A look of total confidence...
A young lady hunter.
The whole family was there to share in the joy. Little sis is a bit jealous I can tell.
Here she is after our first deer hunt together ten years prior when she was six years old.
We hunted down in southeastern Co just about 1 mile from the Kansas border. There is very limited public access in this unit and we were hunting small chunks of walk in access and a couple of SWA areas. There is however an abundance of deer that cross these areas and with a little luck you can get yourself a shot at a legal deer.
We'd hunted for several days and had missed an opportunity at a fairly large mule deer several days before. Mostly due to my poor guiding, well truth be known totally due to my poor guiding. I had spotted a herd of mule deer and looked them over seeing nothing but does and several immature bucks. I asked my daughter if she was interested in making a stalk for practice and to have a better look at the herd. She eagerly agreed and we made a masterful stalk into about 80 yards to the closest deer in the herd. My daughter was just behind and to my right and we were enjoying watching the deer mulling around and browsing. I wasn't really paying attention not taking the hunting serious like I usually do when I am in taking the kids out hunting mode and not in my usual full alert guiding or hunting mode, when all of a sudden to our left about 100 yards away I spot some antler tips, big pearl tipped gnarly heavy duty antler tips, sticking up out of the grass the grey face below those tips is alert and looking at us. I instantly realize that I have just made a BIG MISTAKE we are BUSTED and that is one serious hunk of mule deer buck watching us.
My girl is about ten feet off to my right and slightly behind me watching the main herd mill about. I'm desperately trying to get her attention when all at once we get busted by the main herd and they come to full alert, the mature buck stands up, he's a full grown trophy mule deer, good mass excellent length and width, a 185"+ class buck. He is staring right at us and I'm trying to get my daughter into a position to take a shot. I've got her attention now and she is belly crawling trying to get clear for the shot when all heck breaks loose and the deer start to blow out. She gets on the buck who is stiff legged trotting now but not quite into full blow out mode. Just as she is getting ready to take a shot on the big boy, he joins up with a does. She holds her fire as she doesn't want to risk a moving shot in a herd. This quickly becomes a story of the big one that got away. My daughter nick names the big buck "Gynormico" as we watch him bound away and out of our lives forever.
As we are walking back to the truck my daughter angrily mentions that "maybe I should take deer hunting with her a bit more serious, like you do when hunting with real people!" She is visibly upset. I realize at this moment that this child has grown into a serious and dedicated hunter and that this stuff is actually very important to her. I am proud to be her dad and am proud of the time we've spent together in the field hunting throughout the years from when she was a little baby until now, she's become an independent strong young woman and this stuff means a lot to her. I meekly apologize to her and make a silent promise to myself to do a better job of hunting with my kids from now on. these girls are no longer just out with dad to be with dad, they have become hunters!
We spend the next three days in vain searching for Gynormico but he is gone and we never see him or his herd of girls again. This was without a doubt the most painful screw up of my hunting career. I had a world class deer in easy shooting range on crappy public land a one in a million situation and I let a my inattention and lack of focus get the best of me and I let my daughter down until this moment I hadn't taken my girls interest in hunting serious, it was a wakeup call for me, my children are growing up. But it is what it is and what happened, happened so we decided to move on and concentrate on other deer.
We hunted hard and passed up a couple of smaller bucks and finally we got down to the last afternoon of the hunt. We had put in a great sneak to a spot where the deer had been coming out every afternoon but we hadn't been able to get on them. So we went out early in the afternoon and got into position well before the time when the deer had been coming out. We sat silently for several hours and just as the sun was starting to go down we were rewarded with three buck that came bounding out of the brush line into the open.
I looked them over and none were big bucks but all three were legal. I told my daughter that she was welcome to take anyone of them or she could pass her choice. She thought about it for awhile and decided that she'd like to take a buck as it was our last night and we could use the meat. I ranged the closest one at 205 yards. And watched as my hunter calmly slid the safety forward sucked in a breath and let it half way out. I transitioned my eyes to the buck and watched as she sent a 165 gr Sierra into his boiler room. The buck jumped into the air and in typical whitetail fashion bolted into the thick brush and disappeared. I asked her how she felt about her shot. She just smiled and gave me thumbs up. She knew as well as I did that her little purple zebra stripped custom .308 had scored again. The blood trail was heavy and easy to follow for about 50 yards where we found the buck dead. We had enough light to drag him out and get some pictures and were happy to see mom and little sis headed our way. They had heard the shot and had left their hunting spot to come over and give us a hand.
How'd your shot go? A look of total confidence...
A young lady hunter.
The whole family was there to share in the joy. Little sis is a bit jealous I can tell.
Here she is after our first deer hunt together ten years prior when she was six years old.
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