Tyler and I moved over to Jim’s position, looking down the chute at the reddish looking hump where horizontal lines contrasted by the vertical sprouts of brush indicated the back a deer. His head stayed buried in the brush as he mowed on the fattening forbs. Eventually, he raised his head to check above for danger, as all mountain deer do. He was the most massive buck we had seen so far. Four points per side, with decent fronts. The back forks were palmated and webbed, adding a lot of character, but not helping much for those interested in B&C scores.
The buck was in a tight chute, 195 yards below, but at an extremely steep angle. An easy shot for me and my Howa 7mm-.08 from this perch high above. For a 270 grain round ball pushed by black powder, things get a bit more complicated.
Jim wanted me to shoot first. I told him that any buck that presented him a muzzy-range shot would be our first priority. From what we had seen, rifling one of these bucks was not going to be nearly the challenge of getting here.
Jim moved forward to a place where he knew the deer trail would cross 50 yards below us. If the deer fed up the chute on that trail, it would provide Jim a perfect shot. Based on watching Jim practice with his Hawken before we left, anything under 100 yards would likely get a victory lap down the mountain.
Tyler and I say glassing from a rock outcrop while Jim gave closer examination to the set-up potential for his smokepole. He waved us over. He was now 130 yards above the buck. It was feeding our way, straight uphill, but very slowly. As we contemplated a plan, the buck decided it was time for an afternoon nap. Well, no waiting in ambush now. It would be spot and stalk, or nothing.
Some question was raised as to whether or not he and a camera could get to close range without spooking the buck. We assured Jim it would be no problem. I peaked over the rocks and ranged the bedded buck down below; 126 yards. I then ranged a rock fold that could provide some cover in ascending down toward the buck; 80 yards. If Jim and Tyler could make it to that spot, the shot would be 45-50 yards.
Knowing Jim’s effectiveness at that range, I almost told him to notch his tag now. In my mind, this buck was as good as dead. Jim acted reluctant to shoot first, but Tyler and I were as adamant that he go after this buck as Jim was adamant that I shoot first. Eventually, Tyler and I prevailed.
The plan was hatched. Jim would go down the chute using terrain to conceal him and Tyler. I would shimmy out on a rock point above and film with the other two cameras; one wide with hunters in top left and buck in lower right, and the other tight as tight could get on the bedded buck. I wished them luck and started my way to the rock ledge.
In short order, Jim and Tyler were close enough that they were already starting to take range readings on the rock near where the buck was bedded. It looked like they were within 75 yards, but I doubted they could see the buck bedded in the steepness of this chute.
The timer rolled to 8 minutes of footage and they were now to a small crest that had them in sight. The bedded buck turned and looked above to see if his senses were correct. Seeing nothing dangerous, he turned his attention back down toward the valley floor. This was so cool to watch from afar.
As the camera timer rolled to 18 minutes, Jim was now scooting forward. He was raising his rifle, putting it down, raising his rifle, putting it down, drawing a bead and making me think the shot was coming at any moment. I kept watching the buck through my binos, expecting to witness the impact at any moment.
Finally, I heard what I thought was the cocking of the trigger on the Hawken. I glued my binos onto the buck who had found this very small flat spot on an otherwise extremely steep chute; one of the strangest places I’ve ever seen a deer bed.
PfffBoom! The unique sound of a muzzleloader going off. The buck is rolled out of his bed and is standing to his feet. He tries to walk forward, fighting the impacts of the bullet I saw enter behind the first rib. I can see blood streaming down his side from a perfect hit. He staggers the way a well hit animal will, finally losing balance and rolling off the trail. He slides, then comes to a momentary creep as friction takes hold. Then, running out of gravel and now traveling on wet slimy rocks, the deer is headed down the hill like a luge. Huge rocks are bouncing and cracking as his limp body knocks them loose. Last I see of him, he is airborne, doing a cartwheel. Only sound tells me when he has come to rest way down the slope.
I look at Jim and Tyler. They are as excited as I am. A great buck has been taken on an amazing stalk, with three different camera angles to capture it all. Jim and Tyler work their way back up to my position as we strategize the best route down the chute to the buck’s final resting place. We conclude it is as easy to slowly creep down the left side of this chasm as it would be to back track our trail down to the bottom and crawl back up to the buck. It takes a while, but eventually we arrive to the buck laying in the water cascading down this chute. He is pretty beat up, but amazingly, still intact.
Congratulations are given and pictures are taken. Jim has taken another great buck that will certainly meet the Longhunter score minimum and possibly the B&C awards minimum. The mass of the buck is very impressive for a blacktail. The velvet is pretty much destroyed, but Jim strips that off anyhow.
It takes a lot of effort, but the buck is eventually into quarters, loaded into packs and hanging in our camp. We are a bit worn, so the evening will be glassing from camp and searching for another good buck.
(Trying to load pics, but this connection is a struggle).