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Colorado OTC elk (and 3rd season deer)

Just got back from western Colorado, we hunted the 3rd season with OTC bull tags. there was 4 of us and we tagged out in 3 days. The weather was warm but the deer and elk were out in numbers
 
Deer is now packed off the mountain. Nothing to get excited about.

The chase, the chaos, and the fire drill of sorting the different bucks from this big group of does, and the confusion is what makes this a good story. When the deer dropped, I was fired up. The footage will be tough, given the late light and distance.

We have to get Mark to Grand Junction tonight, so the funny details will have to wait until I get time to tell the story.
 
Congrats Big Fin! Can't wait to see pictures and hear the story. I always enjoy these threads
 
Looking forward to the details. Congrats to all. What a tough hunt. Lesser men and women would have failed. :D
 
It does feel better for me to know that even the veterans had a difficult time there. I had just spent 8 straight days living out of my Bronco and putting at leats 5-10 miles a day on my first Elk hunt. I kept thinking that it must be something that I was doing wrong. But I talked to 20-30 hunters from noobies to 20-30year veterans and they all said that it was terrible this year. Oh well, glad you were able to draw blood and pack meat. Congrats. For me, I'll hit it again next year with a little more experience under my belt.
 
Way to wait til the last minute to let your gun go off...I think you have a future in an alternative film industry Fin.;)
 
Congratulations. You all worked your tails off on this one. Also looking forward to the story!
 
I'm going to try finish this story before the Starbucks latte wears off.

Might be best to give a lay of the geography of this area. I was on a ridge that ran pretty much east to west, with the west end running down into some sage country. To my north was another east-west ridge that paralleled this ridge, but topped out about 400' higher. The drainage that was formed by these two ridges runs from east, downslope to the west. The bottom of this sage basin is public on the east half, then private on the west half, with some jogs in the property boundary making it an interesting area to hunt.

So, as I last posted, we had moved across the basin and set up on the north ridge we had been glassing into. Earlier that morning, we watched a nice buck feed on our ridge about 400 yards away, moving toward a group of does I was watching 195 yards away. The buck was coming our way and I was loaded with the bipod set. It was only a matter of a few minutes and the buck would be in our grill. He was a nice buck. Not huge, but would have been in my top three mule deer.

Suddenly, two does come bolting out of the timber, right past the buck, running down the ridge and out to the sage basin below that is half public, half private. The does were not wasting any time. The buck looked back to see what spooked the does. He was instantly in flight mode, following the does across the big sage flat.

What the heck scared them? Seemed this Colorado curse had a pretty tight grip on me. My question was answered when a couple minutes later, two hunters emerged from the trees. Dang the luck.

I watched the buck and the two does cross the basin and start up the opposing ridge 1,000 yards away. All I could do was watch as they crossed into the private, then crossed back to public. working their way up the thick juniper stands on that ridge. They stopped about half way up, the does looking to bed and the buck looking to harass the does.

They eventually disappeared on a thick bench. I would occasionally catch a glimpse of them moving in the thick stuff. All I could do was keep an eye on them all day, hoping to see if they moved off. If they did not move off, I would set up an ambush in the best trail leading from the brush.

It was there that I was set up when I posted my comment "that we were now in position." Having spent the entire day glassing into the terrible wind and cold, I had not seen the deer move from that really thick stuff. Not that they couldn't have snuck into one of the draws behind where I last saw them, but I figured they would come back down to feed in the sage basin, come evening.

We moved north across the sage basin, then waited patiently until the sun dropped behind a taller ridge far to the west, shading our entire area. I was then comfortable working closer to the open chute that would take them down to the feed.

While moving there, a good opening in the junipers allowed me to glass back south toward the sage flats over on the private portion. I could see a lone deer moving across at a pretty good clip. I glassed him and could see tall back forks. Even at a half mile, I could see this buck was better than the one I was set up on. Question being, which way would he go? Would he get to public, and if so, do it in the remaining 45 minutes of filming light, even though we had an hour of legal shooting light.

He quickly answered that question. He turned and headed south on a course that would take him to the west end of the ridge we had just left. No way he would do this in complete daylight, as crossing that sage flat and the ATV trail that coursed the base of that ridge would be suicidal. Wrong again, Fin.

He kept going. He got to the fence, then jumped from private to public. To add insult to injury, he turned and walked down the ATV trail for a couple hundred yards. Damn it. Had we stayed put, we could have snuck down the ridge crest a mere 300 yards and decked him at a range well below 200 yards. Oh well, no time to bitch.

I looked at Mason and told him we had to run. We dropped off this ridge, getting to the edge of the basin about the time the buck started into some junipers on the ridge we had been glassing from for the previous nine hours. Seeing him moving off and starting into timber, I took off down to the fence line, following it SE for a quarter mile, then turning 90 degrees at the corner post, then going south another half mile to where the ATV trail hit the base of the ridge. We were going as fast as my 48 year-old legs would take me, regaining lost elevation as we went.

Upon reaching the ATV trail, I had to stop and catch my breath. We now had about 20 minutes of shooting light. My heart was holding up good. I told Mason we had to make one last hard push up this 300' of vertical, then get on the fresh tracks in the junipers. Easier said than done.

We did it, with considerable sweat. When we got to the ridge top, the junipers had protected the snow, allowing for tracks to show us where the deer had went. But, there were tons of fresh tracks, making it difficult to know which were his.

Impossible to sort his from all the others, I was comforted to see all the tracks headed the way he was going when I last saw him disappear into the junipers. They were headed south.

I was now sneaking, yet being as quick as I could, knowing our filming light was getting short. I stopped and glassed the hill south of this ridge, thinking they may have already crossed over to that slope. Nothing.

Mason grabbed me while I was glassing and pointed to a white mule deer butt moving back to the east in a small opening below us. We moved down and found this to be the bottom of an opening running to the east, gaining modest elevation as it went.

As we moved out of the cover of junipers, I saw ten deer right in front of us, less than 100 yards. One forkie in the group. Not our guy. I looked toward the back of the basin and there were many more does, with some bucks chasing them. Or at least I assumed they were bucks by their rutty movements. They were over 400 yards away and in this low light, I could barely make out antlers.

We moved forward, bumping the close group of deer another hundred yards east, but allowing us to cut the distance on the deer in the back of the opening. The close group seemed comfortable with us, but glued on something up above them.

The group further out was now at 290 yards. I watched as one buck chased a doe, then was run off by another buck. The defeated boy ran across the hill from us and stood broadside at 340 yards. I could see antlers. I wanted to see who had pushed him off, so I decided to pass on that shot. Plus, a shot of that distance was not my preference at this time of day.

I saw a new buck standing on the edge of the junipers watching another buck tending the does. This most attractive doe then dodged into the junipers taking both these bucks with her. Then she emerged in a trot, while one buck followed fifteen yards behind, doing the things bucks do on November 11th.

Was this the buck that had just chased the other guy away? Not sure, and hard to tell in the low light.

I told Mason to get on him. He was frantically looking through the viewfinder, adjusting all possible settings to get more light in these conditions. I asked him how it (the footage) looked. "Good enough" was his reply.

The buck was now chasing a doe toward us I ranged the rock next to him at 268. I glassed him and could see tall forks in the back. I needed more light to know if he was the one we had just followed across the basin. More light was not coming. The basin was fully shaded and the darkness of trees behind just did not provide much contrast. With those back forks, I am assuming it is him.

Where was the other buck that had followed this pair into the junipers? Great question, but one that probably wouldn't be answered in the remaining filming light.

The buck had his head down, sniffing a doe. I asked Mason if he was on the buck. He told me in this low light, he could not stay zoomed in and get footage that was useable. Mason told me he was "pulling out," camera man term for taking a wider shot than we normally want.

The far buck had now moved and the group close to us was getting on high alert due to our talking and my increased volume when asking if I was clear to shoot. Finally Mason said, "I'm on them."

"Them?" I replied. "Which THEM? The close group or the far group?"

While staying on the eye piece, Mason answered, "The buck in the back and the doe with him. That is all I can get and still have decent footage. Take him now, or we are going to lose all light if they get closer to those trees."

I ranged one more time - 270 yards. I looked through the binos, trying to identify which buck it was. I could see less now than three minutes ago, but from this side angle with his head down sniffing where the doe had peed, I could see good back forks.

I set the CDS dial to 275. Mason confirmed he was still ready. I remember the cross hairs coming to rest, but pulling the trigger is a lost memory. Upon the sound of the shot, I heard a loud "whack." When I got my post-recoil vision back into the scope, I saw the white belly of the buck roll down the hill below where he had just stood.

I was hooting and hollering. After five days of fighting crazy conditions; having passed on a very nice buck at the trailhead due to my feelings it was almost road hunting; after having two sure bets get messed up by other hunters; and now having chased a buck for over a mile in the last 45 minutes, the Colorado curse was broken. Yee Haw!

Mason and I did a few back slaps. We knew we had just pulled a rabbit out of the hat to a degree even we were not expecting. We grabbed our packs and trotted across the opening to where the buck lay, anxious to see just how good he was.

On our way, I was smiling and talking to Mason at a million miles an hour. We had only fifteen minutes of legal shooting light and were probably well past good filming light. Mason assured me it would be useable footage.

As we got closer, I glassed the buck laying forty yards ahead. He had decent back forks, for sure.

In fact, that is all he had. He was a tall forkie who went straight up. No main beam coming over his nose as I had hoped and expected. Oh well, there is no catch and release in hunting. All I could do is laugh, smile, and be grateful for the chase we had been provided and the meat this buck would yield.

I was pleased as can be. Some are going to look at the size of the buck and laugh. Fine. It was one hell of a chase, complicated by many factors, and we ended up shooting a buck, though not the buck I thought I was shooting.

Where the bigger buck ended up, I don't know. Some will ask why I passed the nice 4X3 standing at the trailhead parking lot, given he was much better than the buck that ended up with my tag. Many questions and comments will be asked/made.

Not sure I have answers. I do know this. We hunted our butts off. We fought through and even if I did not find the right buck in the big group of deer, it will be a hunt I cherish, with a great guy like Mark and two super camera guys, Mason and Brad.

I am still trying to figure out where the bigger buck was in that group. Not that it matters now. My camera is still packed in the cargo trailer, so pics of this buck will have to wait until tomorrow.
 
"Trophy" has so many meanings Randy. When it's your tag, you set the rules. Congratulations. I'm sure the meat will be excellent table fare.
 

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