My Mulie

[Chunky]

The Pic, before the shot.

[Chunky]

The Story......

Mule Deer

As I reach the position I have been crawling toward, I try to relax and take several deep breaths. I rise to one knee and make sure I am ready to shoot. I pull a couple of the more painful cactus needles out of my hide, as I have collected a fair sample of Wyoming’s prickly flora, but that is not important. I am where I need to be, I think. I am perched just below a canyon rim and twenty yards above a very large rock that I believe hides a very nice muley buck. It could be the very large rock just down and left of me, but after careful consideration, I decide the rock directly below me is the right one. I do keep an eye on the other one, just in case. No matter how hard you try to plan your stalk and memorize landmarks, things always look differently when you approach them from a different angle.

The date is September 9th , 2003. The northern Wyoming morning is beautiful, clear and cool. The wind is steady and perfect for my position. The plan calls for me to wait for one hour for the buck to move on his own and provide me with a shot. If he does not cooperate, my friends and guides will move closer and closer until the buck becomes uncomfortable with their position and moves. The risk is that he will spook out at full power and not provide a shot at all; the reward is that he may move out slowly and be distracted by them, giving me a chance to draw from my position of little cover. Either way, I have done all I can for now and can only wait.

How do you spend time when you know you are within bow range of the deer you’ve dreamed of? Most of my hunting is done from stands or blinds in thick cover. Shot opportunities come quickly and there is not much time to “ice the shooter,” as they say. I draw my bow a few times to stretch and check for limb clearance. I visualize the buck walking out from the right side of the rock and my making a perfect shot. After doing this a few times a thought creeps into my head. The shot will come, it is going to happen. This will be either a great moment in my hunting history or one of those others that haunts you and keeps you up at night. I have a nice collection of those already, as I believe most of us do that have hunted for any length of time.

If I miss, it will not be the escape of the deer that will bother me. A countless number of animals have eluded me because of an errant breeze, lack of cover, being spotted by another animal, or one of the other thousand things that can go wrong during this adventure we call bowhunting. These are beyond our control for the most part and don't upset me a bit. It’s the ones where everything goes right and I don’t perform at the moment of truth that really hurt. Bowhunters work so hard for that one chance and when it comes it is point blank and burned into our memories. I am not normally prone to buck fever or target panic, but with an hour to wait I decide I had better occupy my mind.

I think back how I arrived at this position. This is my third trip over the last four years trying to kill one of these floppy eared rascals. I am hunting with my guides and very close friends Jim Bob Adamson, his wife Lisa, and Bruce Ferrie of Canyon Creek Outfitters of Cheyenne Wyoming. I took a very nice antelope with them on my first hunt, but have had my heart set on a mule deer ever since.

The first couple of trips provided lots of sightings of big bucks and a few close encounters, but no good shot opportunities, except at does and dinks. The trips were always memorable, but not always for the hunting. I was there on 9/11 and will never forget that. I have made about every mistake a mule deer stalker can make, but have also had great times and learned a lot about the deer, their habits, and the beautiful country where they live.

I love hunting with Jim Bob and Bruce for many reasons. They never give up or get discouraged. They know my limitations and the limitations of my traditional equipment. We hunt hard, but we also always make sure we have a good time. We shoot arrows at frizbees and targets during the mid day. We play games during travel like sports and music trivia. Once a year we take an afternoon off, drive to Lander and attempt to play golf. We even played a touch football game at the RV campground. There is never a dull moment with them!

This year started a little differently. Jim Bob called me and said that they had permission to hunt a new ranch in a new area. They could only take one hunter and wanted to make a good impression to ensure future hunting opportunities. He wanted me to be that hunter. I took this as a huge compliment and said that I would love to do it.

[BO-N-ARO]

Very NICE!! That is really cool!

[Chunky]

On the first day we saw many nice bucks in the morning but none looked stalkable. About noon I spotted a real whopper bedded in a rock pile. I took my time getting around behind the pile. The wind was good and I moved toward the ridge where I would pop over and take the shot. I came to a place where the rocks were about the size of pick-up trucks. I picked a path between two of these and started to squeeze through. I was moving slowly even though I was still some distance from the buck I had spotted, because I had been warned of rattlesnakes in this area. As I oozed forward I saw velvet-covered antler tips on the other side of the rock. This buck was about three feet from me, but with solid rock between us. I could have touched the end of his antler with my bow tip. He had not detected me and I stepped back one step. As I stood there with my heart pounding, I realized I could hear the buck’s stomach growling and when he took a deep breath I could hear him exhale. Wow, my trip was made regardless of how things went the rest of the week.

I stood for a few long minutes and could not fathom a way to get a shot. The buck was situated in what could only be described as a rock room. The entrance on my side was very narrow. I could not step through with my bow drawn or even with an arrow on the string. I finally decided that my only chance would be to find another rock to climb on that would allow me to get high enough to shoot down into the buck’s fort. I tried to get into position for a shot by climbing up a large sloping rock about fifteen feet to the right of the buck. I crawled up until I could see the two top forks of this antlers. I watched his antler tips and when his head turned away I rose to shoot. This was a bad plan. I only needed one second to find his vitals, but he saw me immediately and exploded out of his bed. All I could see was the biological twelve ring and, of course, could not take the Texas heart shot. He made two big bounds and was gone forever taking previously unseen bucks with him. I don’t know what I could have done differently except wait for them to move or try the rock throwing trick. What a thrill, I was all smiles.

The next day I got another chance. We spotted a decent buck bedded at the bottom of a rockslide. I planned the stalk and crept to the exact location. I knew I was within twenty yards of the buck, but could not see him. He was behind a little fold in the land. I decided to wait for him to stand and give me the perfect slam dunk shot. The wind swirled and he came out of there with the afterburners lit. Oh well, another adrenaline rush and another opportunity bouncing away.

There were a few more tries, including a mini push that almost put a fantastic buck in my lap, he came straight to me for a hundred yards, but he turned and went down hill at about sixty yards. I had another good buck at about thirty yards, but it was at last light and even though I could see the deer well, I felt like I would lose sight of the arrow and be uncertain of the impact point. I am confidant I could have taken that deer but it didn’t feel right so I let down. I was having a great hunt, but not getting that one shot I needed at an animal that was in range, with plenty of light, and not already moving mach one.

This morning we started the last day we would be able to all hunt together this year. We set out at daylight in search of an opportunity. Lisa, who was our cook and an accomplished hunter herself, spotted a buck when there was just enough light to see. Using the spotting scope she described and rated the deer including a kicker. She told me that he would do nicely. The four of us watched him for three hours. I was sure he would roll the ridge and be gone, but Jim Bob was sure he would bed on our side. He did, and we made the plan. I spent an hour getting into position. I was afraid that the wind would swirl and give me away again. I was wishing that I had asked them to move as soon as I was in range above the deer, but I didn’t and so I sit and think for an hour.

Finally, the time is up and they begin to move. I feel my pulse quicken. Closer and closer they come and I know it is almost show time. They get to a position a couple of hundred yards away. I can not believe that this buck has not yet moved. Many times this week the bucks we had seen would see a person or even the truck at a half mile and beat a hasty retreat. Mule deer are unpredictable! I see Lisa taking some pictures with my camera and I hope they come out. Suddenly I see the antler tips on the other side of the rock. He is directly below me and has stood up. He moves to the right and appears on the right side of the rock, just as I had been picturing in my mind. I bring my Morrison recurve to full draw. The buck senses the movement, stops, and looks up at me. I think, “that was a mistake” and release the string. The arrow passes completely through the mule deer’s chest. He runs a hundred and fifty yards and collapses in sight.

The next thing I know I am getting back slaps, hugs, and kisses (from Bruce not Lisa). Well, it’s not every outfitter that shares so much excitement when you have success, but they are good friends, too. It will take several days to sink in that I finally got my mule deer.

I know some hunters who think mule deer are dim witted and not challenging to hunt. This is not my opinion or experience. To get within bow range of a wise old buck in open country requires skill, patience, and a good measure of luck. Because of the amount of effort and the people I shared this hunt with, this is one of my most treasured hunting memories. I got a great buck and an awesome picture also. Now if I can only draw that Wyoming elk tag...

[Chunky]

I know it is long, but you guys asked for it.

I got a cover of LSBA with the pic.

[Chunky]

Mulie is top center when this was taken.

[stickman]

Unbelievable! Great story, awesome stalk pic,and beautiful trophy room. That is a huge muley! Some day I hope I can have that kind of success, I wish for that opportunity. Congrats and thank you for sharing.

[john64n]

Thats awesome.........

[Stykbow]

Chunky I know I keep saying this but...that is the most incredible pic, with you above the muley. Great story. Maybe one day I'll get an opportunity at a big muley. I have always wanted 1 good whitetail and 1 good muley. Don't get me wrong I would like to have some other animals also but those 2 would be tops on my list.
Congratulations once again !!!

[edwardv]

I've seen it before and I'm still amazed about the picture. That's a one in a lifetime type of picture.

AWESOME!!!!!

[4Advntre]

Great Story thanks for sharing, maybe someday we will all have a story like that

[supertrooperl14]

Good Stuff.

[cfortner]

Thanks for sharing, I really enjoyed it!

[KTULL]

Great story and thanks for sharing it.

[dac6933]

awesome