NV Deer - Redemption

[Big Fin]

Spent the first two days in this area. It looked great with all the aspens and the water in the creek bottoms. But when you walked around a bit, you saw that there was note enough vegetation left for the mice to make it through the winter. The sheep had hammered the entire mountain.

After two days of seeing pretty much nothing, we had to go on a search mission. We finally found good numbers of deer about 10-12 miles north, which on these roads, was about an hour drive each way.





Talked to some guys who have hunted this mountain for years, always having good luck inn archery season. They were baffled as to where the deer had disappeared to. They had never seen sheep here in archery season before and they attribute the lack of deer to that. I don't know for sure, but I cannot see how a deer would have anything to eat.

As some said, sheep grazing, if done right, can help the range. I would have a hard time imagining this operator was doing the range any favors. Seems he would be a poster child for those critics of public land sheep grazing.

 

[dihardhunter]

Bottom line, did you get enough footage for an entertaining show? Look forward to more details of the hunt.

 

[Big Fin]

Finally, the evening of hunting day #2, we found some deer. Getting get any stalks, but at least had found a place to go and look with more enthusiasm.

Spent all the next day in this drainage. Had a stalk on three younger bucks right at daylight, but I messed it up. I tried to intercept them as they cross over the ridge. I picked with little drainage they would use and I picked wrong, but about 100 yards. As we were sneaking and I was looking ahead, Brad tapped me on the shoulder and pointed over to my left. They were standing there looking at us.

Dang the luck.

I then went around the mountain and watched bucks bed in three other spots. Once they were down for the day, I decided we could rely on the wind to be predictable enough for us to make a stalk.

In spite of the scorching sun, the hot winds provided a great steady wind for the stalks I wanted to do. Scott had to bring his son, Logan, into Elko to catch a bus, so Brad and I were on our own.

The first stalk was going perfect. The wind was right in my face. The rock ledge was just what I thought it was when glassing from a half mile away.

We dropped our packs about 75 yards from the rock ledge and started sneaking forward, single file. As we got there, I realized where the bucks had bedded was further away from the ledge than it appeared from the other side. I range the one bush i saw them bed near - 85 yards. Hmmm.

We moved forward more. As we got about ten yards from the ledge, one of the buck stood up. A really read colored three pointer in full velvet. He was to our right. I ranged him - 74 yards. Too far for me. I fed behind a rock that provided an chance to move forward.

We did that and set up. If he came out below us, it would be about 35-40 yards. I nocked and arrow and got ready. No buck. Where did he go. Just about the time I gave up, he trotted out from behind the rock, right below us and kept bouncing. He went over to the rock ledge to our right, scratched out a bed in the shade of the very few mahoganies, and laid down.

What. You gotta be kidding me. Now, he is almost at our elevation and bedded at 90 yards, looking at us. Now we are pinned down. The sun is backing us as it reflects off this rock. After about a half hour, I tell Brad I don' think deer can count.

Since we are huddled close together, we probably look like one object. I tell Brad I am going to get up and walk in a straight line away from our position, trying to keep Brad between me and the deer. It is working for about twenty yards, then I have to scale up the rocks. The deer can count. He stands from his bed. I turn and start duck walking back to Brad, in the event the buck comes back down below us on his exit.

Nope. The buck bounds off, as any smart buck would do. I hustle to the lip, as I had seen three bucks bed in this group. Out at about 80 yards, a small 4 point stands from his bed to see what has caused his buddy to leave in such haste. Too far for me. We stand still, hoping this buck might walk under us like his buddy did. Not a chance. He follows his pal down the drainage.

Not all is lost. I still have another buck bedded in a mahogany patch about a 500 yards west of this spot. In the shade of some rocks, a strip of thick young mahoganies has grown in three small clumps. I glassed the buck from earlier this morning when he had last bedded on the small patch furthest south of the three little groves.

Again, the wind is perfect as we approach the ledge of these rocks and peer into the first, northern-most, batch of mahoganies. I glass hard, but see nothing. I can't really see the base of these bushes, as they kind of grown out from the base of the rocks, making it hard to see from up above.

Seeing nothing, I drop back from the ledge and go to the middle batch. The wind is great as we sneak forward. Once again, I glass and see nothing.

I repeat the same process and approach the last and southern-most batch of brush. This is where I saw the buck bed, so I give it a really good look. Nothing. Frustrated, and somewhat in disbelief no buck is there, I grab a volleyball-sized rock and roll it into the brush. Zilch. I grab another rock and do the same thing, with the same result.

After a minute or two, I turn to Brad and give him some narrative of what I was doing and how the buck must have left in the three hours it took us get here and make these stalks. I had no more than said that, when I look over to the right of the camera, down into the first batch of brush, and a nice three point buck is stepping out of the thick mess and looking around to see what the commotion is.

Gonna be funny to see me stop my dialogue in mid-stream and start stammering that the bucks is "right there." I knock and arrow, drop back away from the rock ledge sky line and move closer. As I approach the lip right above where the buck would be, I hear the sound of stotting hooves. The buck appears out and to my left about 100 yards.

Talk about embarrassing. He was bedded on the lower side, the front side of that brush, opposite from the side I was on. I needed to look a lot closer and I maybe would have caught a glimpse of him. I was just so sure he was in the brush patch further south, that I didn't give a good look over. Stupid on my part and it cost us a shot at a buck.

Now, we had the long hot hike back to truck. All I could do is laugh, but I really wanted to scream. It was now the middle of day three and we finally had a chance, only for me to screw it up.

We went back to the truck, and found some shade at a spring. An afternoon thunderstorm came by, booming from the ridges above. Time for the safety of the truck. We sat that out, and later the afternoon was joined by Scott as we glassed the late afternoon from a rock pile.

Now, I was smelling smoke in a big way. With a west or north wind, it was like standing next to a camp fire. Great, now that we found some deer, all I needed was a big range fire to mess up our new spot.

Just before dark, a BLM spotter plane was flying over in circles above the drainage just north of us. Yup, a good old Nevada range fire.

A plume of smoke drifting over the setting sun.


A cool sunset, made more colorful by the smoke. Could have used no smoke and foregone the colorful sunset.


Saw no bucks, so headed by to camp, the hour-long drive, with no sure plan for the morning of day four.

 

[Big Fin]

Woke up well before sunrise on Day Four and decided to head back to the spot where we had the two stalks the prior afternoon. As we dove up the dusty trail, we could see a lot of big truck tracks in the road. As we entered the drainage where we had seen the bucks the previous morning, we were greeted by three big BLM firefighting trucks. Felt bad to drive by these guys sleeping in their cots. I know they had probably driven a long ways and could use some sleep. But, not much I could do about it now.

We drove past, trying to keep the dust low, headed to the far end of the drainage and hope some bucks were around. We got up toward the end of the basin and Scott quickly had three bucks and two does spotted. We glassed them and conjured a plan. Scott would stay and watch them while Brad and I got behind the Moo Cow and made a big loop to get above them.

With that, we were off. Brad and I were hustling as fast as we could. As always happens, the ridges are a lot steeper when you try to run up them, than they look from afar. It took about a half hour to get in position.

We waited, hoping they would continue coming up the hill in this direction. The wind was swirling, so I had little faith that we could pull this off. I figured they should be in sight by now, but no sign of them. So I moved us forward to the crest of a small rise that broke down into a bigger coulee.

As I peaked over, the bucks were standing there at about 70 yards, looking back over their shoulder. Something had moved them a ways, but we were in good shape. They decided to move further SW, so we paralleled them just behind the ridge and out of their sight.

Their coulee intercepted our mesa about fifty yards ahead, so I set up Bessy the Moo Cow and started ranging objects. I heard some commotion behind me and looked to see Brad on his knees, working on the camera and cussing profusely. WTH? Not a good time for a camera problem.

The deer appeared out in front of us. I ranged the small four pointer - 59 yards. Hmmm. That is right near the fringe of my range. I tell Brad to get rolling. Wrong thing to say to a camera man who has a faulty camera in his hands. I think my colorful language in times of stress is rubbing off on him.

Now, all the deer are looking at us. We can do nothing other then try to hide behind the Moo Cow. The wind changes slightly their direction and that is all it took for them to trot away, not scared, but knowing something wasn't right.

Brad cannot resurrect the camera, so we have to head back to the truck. These devices are made for controlled, warm, clean conditions of studios, not the dust pile we were operating in. Fortunately, he had a second camera back at camp.

On our way out, it became obvious that with the amount of firefighting activity in this drainage, it was time to find another place for the evening hunt. We were in a burn area the last day and into a lot of deer, so we would go check out the other burn areas I had marked on my map.

Brad doing his best to make due with nothing but the DSLR that was still working. Finally, it was obvious we needed to drive an hour back to camp and get some new camera gear.

 

[Big Fin]

With a replacement camera employed, we headed northeast of camp about 12 miles, searching for deer. We found this burn area to be in magnificent shape, even though it had only burned a year ago. This sign shows the partners that aggressively re-seeded this to native vegetation immediately following last summer's fire. Great work being done here.



On our way in, we bumped a lot of does and fawns in the areas around the wet springs that supported sparse willows and a few unburned aspens. All a good sign.

We hiked up the east ridge of this drainage in time to have a couple hours of good glassing to the north and west. The west setting sun would shade these west slopes early, giving us more time to scout the shaded areas.

Wasn't long before does, fawns, and young bucks were popping up with regularity. How they hid in these little cuts and areas the burn missed is still amazing to me. But, there were plenty of them.

About an hour before sunset, I noticed three gray-bodied deer coming out of some mahoganies, travelling straight down the hill north of us. I put the spotter on them and was happy to see a really nice 24" four pointer in the middle of the pack. The other two were three pointers, and at this point of the hunt, hunting on a left over tag, I would shoot any of the three, but was really hoping for this very nice dark velvet four pointer.

Knowing NV only allows you to hunt until sunset, not a half hour past sunset as is the case with most states, we decided to drop down the ridge, scramble north and wait for the bucks to come through a tight spot in one of the drainages.

Scott stayed to glass and give hand signals, while Brad and I hurried to the position. Before disappearing from their view, I stopped and glassed to see if they were still headed the same path. Yup. If they continue down this trail, they will come past a small rock pile that would lead them just 30 yards from an ambush location.

We are moving fast, wanting to get there soon. We get down in a coulee and cover some ground in a hurry. Now, below the rock pile the trail goes past, we scramble out of this small drainage to set up with the rocks as our cover. We get about half way up the rise and a doe and two fawns stand from their beds in the small patch of sage that surrounds the rocks. Crap! Or something similar and probably less printable.

We hear the noise of hooves stotting away. Was it just the doe and her band, or did they take the bucks with them. We wait. I sneak forward further, whether between a gap in the rocks, I can see everything. Nothing, Are they right below us? I creep around where I can look straight down. Not there.

All I can figure is the doe took them with her and they headed out down one of the drainages Scott could not see from his position. Talk about some bad luck. Had they continued down the trail to this spring below us, we would have had about a 25 yard shot, at lower light, with good cover. Just the set up you would wish for. But, such is how it goes at time.

As disappointed as I was, I was still excited to find more deer in another burn area. I was sure that Day Five would offer some more opportunities if we could get in here before sunrise. An hour later and we were eating bison meat sauce over penne noodles. This was turning out to be a hell of a lot better hunt than the disaster of last year.

 

[Big Fin]

Day Five had us up and at 'em, long before sunrise. We had made it to our glassing location just in time. Not too many deer were visible. Mostly does and fawns feeding and bedding in areas where share would be in good supply.

Finally, a nice three point, very high, though not real wide, made his way over the ridge to our basin, heading down the hill and into some mohaganies above and about three quarter mile across from us. He as all alone and bedded in a great spot, facing up hill.

Given the wind, we could play this one so good. You always hope for a single buck bedded in a great location. This was it.

We had plenty of time to plot this one out, as this buck was going to bed in this shade for some time. We could see him from our spot, comfortably napping under a tree that split into three big trunks. With this wind, all we needed to do was loop way north, climb up above him and use that little ribbon of small mahoganies for our approach and we would have shooting at sub-forty distances.

With that plan, we were off. This big loop would take us about a mile and a half and we would gain a good bit of elevation before dropping back down from above him. I was feeling good about this one.

It took over an hour to get above the buck. Everything was going great. We had come up a ridge to his north, with him being bedded two ridges south, and below us. We dropped our packs. I tested the wind and all was going according to plan. We rounded the rock and got to the little strip of brush that would give us cover to this tree he is bedded under. I am ranging the tops of the tree he is bedded under - 46 yards.

I motion to Brad that we are going to move in and it will be fast shooting if he spots us. I have an arrow nocked and peak around the last bush. No deer. WTH?

I pull out my binos and look back across the drainage to where Scott was glassing. Scott has moved up the ridge where is now skylined. He is waiving his arms like he is doing jumping jacks, which is our signal to "call it off." Obviously, something happened that I never saw while we were out of sight from the buck.

I tell Brad, "We are snakebit. Sooner or later, the luck is going to change and come our way."

We head down the ridge, dripping with sweat, discussing among ourselves what Scott will tell us happen. About half way down the ridge, I see a snake shimmy under a rock pile along the trail.

I make a bigger loop and look under the rocks. It is a big fat diamondback. Glad he decided to get out of our way and not let some deaf dude like me step on him. Always gets your blood pressure going when you run into one of these guys.

I live by a snake karma policy, where I never kill them. I hope, maybe incorrectly, that if I leave them alone, they will leave me alone. So far so good, and this dude is still slithering around those hills.





When we got to Scott, he explained that a doe and a fawn had come burning off a hillside from down below where we had made our big loop north of this bedded buck. They ran south, right through the patch where the three pointer was bedded, taking him with them, completely out of the drainage, up and over the ridge into the basin to our west.

If we continue to work this hard, we will sooner get some breaks. Or, at least that is what I always tell myself when on a bad luck streak like the last few days.

We had stunk this basin up pretty bad, so on the evening of this fifth day we had to wrap up a ton of TV work that had been neglected while we had hunted out butts off over the last four and a half days. The harsh light of mid day does not work for TV, so we use as much of the early and late day light for our TV work.

 

[Big Fin]

It was now Day Six, the last day of our hunt. The pressure is on. Again, we are up well before dawn and headed down the dusty roads on our way to this new spot. We wait for the sun to come up and we are finding some deer. No bucks, but some does.

After an hour of glassing, we finally glass up a string of deer, including three bucks and a doe. One of the bucks is the three pointer from yesterday. The other two are also three pointers. Not sure where the nice four pointer disappeared to, but at this stage of the hunt, I am not going to wait on him.

Scott follows the bucks while I get out my 42X point and shoot and take some video. We had lost our big camera, so long shots of video will have to come from the Nikon 510, a little point and shoot. I have seen the video and it is not too bad. I forgot that it takes audio, so the editor will have to clean that up if he decides to use any.



Here are a few pics of the group as they move across from us to their beds. I estimate these photos to be taken from 1,200 to 1,500 yards away. Not bad for a point and shoot, and works a lot better than digiscoping.






The bucks and this one doe head exactly to the patch of mahoganies that the three pointer bedded in yesterday. They bed a little further north, in thicker trees, than the buck of yesterday.

The wind is almost exactly opposite, so this time, it will require we go way high and to the south, then drop down from above. We will exit the left side of this pic, scale the ridge, which is a lot steeper than it looks from up at our glassing point, then come back into the pic and stay above the long strip of rocks just below the lip, then drop down to the mahoganies.



It takes an hour for us to drop off this ridge and scale the other side. Another half hour has us in the rocks just above the mahoganies. We drop our packs and check the wind. All is good. I look at Scott and he is still in glassing mode, so all is good.

I motion to Brad that we will stay in the shade of these rocks until we get down to the small strip of mahoganies that gave us the cover in our stalk yesterday. All is going well.

To me left, further north, I see the ears of a doe. She is 55 yards below and left. Now, she has a fawn with her. We hold dead still while she stands and they feed further to our north.

Whew. Thought this one was over.

We continue moving forward. We are now looking down into the mahoganies where the bucks should be. Nothing. It starts raining, so I use the noise to hide our descent lower onto the scattered rocks and brush. We are now in the middle of these trees and like most mahoganies, they are grazed up to a line of about 4', giving good visibility underneath that level. Still nothing.

I don't know what to do. I tell Brad we will sneak from rock to rock, making sure we have covered every single bush. I expect bucks to bolt from under out feet at any minute. Nope.

We emerge from the trees and glass to Scott. He is giving us the shrug of "What happened?" I don't have an answer, but somehow, someway, they snuck out of this patch and down the back side of these ridges, unseen by any of us.

It is blistering hot and humid from that rain squall as we head back to Scott. By the time we wrap up some TV pieces for this segment, storm clouds are looming and thunder is booming. Time to head back to camp and wait this one out.

We get there just in time. The wind is howling and temps drop 20 degrees. Rain is pelting my tent as I think about how much more fun I had this year, even on a left over tag, than I had last year when my liver nearly did me in.

About 4:30pm, I emerge and ask Brad what options we have in this rain. He doesn't want to confirm what I already now - that this rain and wind is not going to allow us to hunt this last evening. But, he nods and confirms when I ask him if we are screwed.

So, we go through the shot list of what we have and make sure we have a good episode. Check.

We spend the next few hours breaking camp and by 1am in the morning, we are checking in to a motel room in Jackpot.

Not the final result I had hoped for. But, when I saw NV had some leftover archery tags in the second draw, I decided to apply. I would prefer to hunt mule deer with a bow, more than with a rifle. And, I wanted to go back and get some of my money's worth, given how little I got to hunt when I was there last year.

I think it will be a good episode. Great friends like Scott and Logan, enough bucks to keep it interesting, and some good discussion about how fire is a hunters friend, as proven on this hunt.

From this, we will be off to AZ to film an antelope hunt. It will be a blast and my greatest hope is we can find some of the big bucks that live there, prior to opening day. From AZ, we go to a pair of archery elk hunts, both of which should be great fun and great challenge.

 

[Antcap]

It's great to hear that you guys had a great time and that your body cooperated this year. Chasing muleys in Nevada with a stick and string has to be one of the hardest hunts around. I can't wait to see the episode next year. Keep up the great work Randy!!