Mule deer hunting in the mountains has become one of my passions over the past 6 years or so. The hunt for a mature mule deer buck has led me to some of the most beautiful places this region of British Columbia has to offer. With a friend and on my own I've back packed and camped in the high country from early September where we swam in alpine lakes to late October where we camped in over a foot of snow in sub zero temperatures. I've spent countless gruelling days hiking into the high country chasing these beautiful animals. Unfortunately in my area deer populations have decreased drastically due to heavy predation, habitat loss,and some hard winters and large mature mule deer are rare. I've killed a couple of smaller bucks towards the end of our season just to make sure we had something in the freezer but a mature buck had alluded me. That is until this past season.
Every year I would see a couple of nice bucks but cutting a tag was proving to be challenging. One of my favourite places to hunt is a road closure where my hunting partner and I had spent a few years spring bear hunting and had a stash of firewood, a couple of level tent spots, and a fire ring near a mountain creek. I spent every Saturday hiking the 5km(3miles) up to our camp and then hunt either just for the day or occasionally I'd spend a couple of nights. I had so many close calls it was driving me to the edge. One time I was changing into some dry/warmer raingear and had a group of four does and a really big typical 4 point come to within 30m, one leg in and one boot kind of caught with my rifle about 10ft away. Never did see them again that day. Two seasons ago with a friend we had a giant 4 point come to my doe call only to stop with his vitals completely covered by a thicket at less then 40m. We stayed on his trail for hours but never did catch up. Last season on a three day trip I just couldn't make out if the buck I could just make out bedded in a line of alders was legal(they need to have at least four points on one side excluding the brow tines). It was an early October snow storm with just no way to be really sure, until he finally stood up and the snow stopped for about a minute and I could tell he was good but he too disappeared too quickly to get an ethical shot off. I was really starting to question whether it made sense to beat myself up every weekend in pursuit of something that was proving so difficult.
Fast forward to early November and a heavy snowstorm combined with the lack of chains for my new to me pickup forced me to stay low. Instead of heading into the high country I elected to access the mountain I usually hunt from lake level by starting at a friend's cabin. By crossing his acreage I got onto the lowest cutblock on the mountain and basically spent the day just hunting up a ridge skirting the southern edge into winds coming out of the NE. Kind of chilly but there where enough deer to keep me really interested. My eyes were bugging out from glassing through snow squalls. Finally around 1pm I decided to hunt my way north across the upper end of the block and get a good view of another opening I could just make out but couldn't really see into. As I'm making my way across this very steep, slippery snow covered mountain side I spot a couple of does 300-350m steeply uphill from me. As I watch them doe three pops out followed quickly by number four. Number five takes a bit of looking when six and seven seem to appear out of nowhere. Followed very closely by what I could tell was a legal buck. Unfortunately with the steepness of the open terrain and no decent rest I just didn't want to screw it up by rushing the shot. I watched as they fed their way across the block neither getting closer nor farther away. Just no shot. Then they disappeared into a fold in the mountain giving me a chance to quickly cut some of that distance.
I got up to a point where I had a good rest and a clear view of the mountainside and I just could not find them. I scoured that hillside back and forth but they just were not where I thought they should be. Almost on the point of giving up I happened to glance up and off to my right only to see the whole group staring down at me from a knoll approximately 200m away. I got set up on my shooting stick sitting down with a good rest but still very steeply uphill and followed the buck as he milled through the herd checking one doe after another. He would almost step clear and a doe would either step in front or cross behind. This went on forever(maybe a minute) and finally I could see my chance coming. The buck was headed up and would clear the last doe any second, just as he clears the last doe and the point where I was going to shoot he wheels around and heading down off the knoll towards me. Three thoughts slam through my mind along with a fresh dose of adrenaline 1) He's at a terrible angle to shoot(I'm basically seeing his back as he bails off the knoll) 2)He's going to disappear 3) He's clear!
Without any thought or input from me my finger squeezes the trigger of my 25-06 and I see the buck stagger as he disappears from view. As I make my way up and across the mountainside I still couldn't quite believe what had just happened. As I came up and over the fold hiding the buck from me I saw him bedded and quickly finished him. He managed to kick himself free of his bed tumbling and skidding down the mountain 200ft or so. Turns out he was a decent 5x3 with eye guards.
I've seen a lot of pictures of really big bucks you guys shoot down in Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana and even though he doesn't qualify for any book he is a real trophy to me. It was a great hunt and put some excellent meat in the freezer. For me he's perfect.
Every year I would see a couple of nice bucks but cutting a tag was proving to be challenging. One of my favourite places to hunt is a road closure where my hunting partner and I had spent a few years spring bear hunting and had a stash of firewood, a couple of level tent spots, and a fire ring near a mountain creek. I spent every Saturday hiking the 5km(3miles) up to our camp and then hunt either just for the day or occasionally I'd spend a couple of nights. I had so many close calls it was driving me to the edge. One time I was changing into some dry/warmer raingear and had a group of four does and a really big typical 4 point come to within 30m, one leg in and one boot kind of caught with my rifle about 10ft away. Never did see them again that day. Two seasons ago with a friend we had a giant 4 point come to my doe call only to stop with his vitals completely covered by a thicket at less then 40m. We stayed on his trail for hours but never did catch up. Last season on a three day trip I just couldn't make out if the buck I could just make out bedded in a line of alders was legal(they need to have at least four points on one side excluding the brow tines). It was an early October snow storm with just no way to be really sure, until he finally stood up and the snow stopped for about a minute and I could tell he was good but he too disappeared too quickly to get an ethical shot off. I was really starting to question whether it made sense to beat myself up every weekend in pursuit of something that was proving so difficult.
Fast forward to early November and a heavy snowstorm combined with the lack of chains for my new to me pickup forced me to stay low. Instead of heading into the high country I elected to access the mountain I usually hunt from lake level by starting at a friend's cabin. By crossing his acreage I got onto the lowest cutblock on the mountain and basically spent the day just hunting up a ridge skirting the southern edge into winds coming out of the NE. Kind of chilly but there where enough deer to keep me really interested. My eyes were bugging out from glassing through snow squalls. Finally around 1pm I decided to hunt my way north across the upper end of the block and get a good view of another opening I could just make out but couldn't really see into. As I'm making my way across this very steep, slippery snow covered mountain side I spot a couple of does 300-350m steeply uphill from me. As I watch them doe three pops out followed quickly by number four. Number five takes a bit of looking when six and seven seem to appear out of nowhere. Followed very closely by what I could tell was a legal buck. Unfortunately with the steepness of the open terrain and no decent rest I just didn't want to screw it up by rushing the shot. I watched as they fed their way across the block neither getting closer nor farther away. Just no shot. Then they disappeared into a fold in the mountain giving me a chance to quickly cut some of that distance.
I got up to a point where I had a good rest and a clear view of the mountainside and I just could not find them. I scoured that hillside back and forth but they just were not where I thought they should be. Almost on the point of giving up I happened to glance up and off to my right only to see the whole group staring down at me from a knoll approximately 200m away. I got set up on my shooting stick sitting down with a good rest but still very steeply uphill and followed the buck as he milled through the herd checking one doe after another. He would almost step clear and a doe would either step in front or cross behind. This went on forever(maybe a minute) and finally I could see my chance coming. The buck was headed up and would clear the last doe any second, just as he clears the last doe and the point where I was going to shoot he wheels around and heading down off the knoll towards me. Three thoughts slam through my mind along with a fresh dose of adrenaline 1) He's at a terrible angle to shoot(I'm basically seeing his back as he bails off the knoll) 2)He's going to disappear 3) He's clear!
Without any thought or input from me my finger squeezes the trigger of my 25-06 and I see the buck stagger as he disappears from view. As I make my way up and across the mountainside I still couldn't quite believe what had just happened. As I came up and over the fold hiding the buck from me I saw him bedded and quickly finished him. He managed to kick himself free of his bed tumbling and skidding down the mountain 200ft or so. Turns out he was a decent 5x3 with eye guards.
I've seen a lot of pictures of really big bucks you guys shoot down in Wyoming, Idaho, and Montana and even though he doesn't qualify for any book he is a real trophy to me. It was a great hunt and put some excellent meat in the freezer. For me he's perfect.
