My dad had started off the day with us, but he was more interested in still hunting than spot and stalk, so he had headed the opposite direction after we had shown him where I was planning to hunt. He's taken two bucks in the area he headed to, including one very nice buck a couple years ago.
We didn't see or hear from him again until we bumped into him right near the truck at dark. He'd had a very disappointing day buck wise, only turning up does, especially considering he estimated he'd covered at least 8 miles.
We headed back to camp and cooked up some venison chowder for dinner, and for the morning we decided I would go with him and glass nearby areas while he stayed in the timber. He was a bit beat from all the walking the day before, and didn't feel like pushing it again. FireTiger would hang back, get some sleep, and clean up around camp.
I left him on a trail where he's seen deer travel before, and climbed up on a knob 100 yards or so away. I had accidentally left our walkie talkies in the other truck, so I would have to climb down and get him if I did spot something.
Glassing wasn't turning up much, with only 4 does and a bunch of pronghorn spotted. I was just started to scratch my head when I turned up a buck right near us in the closest opening! Dashing down the hill, I grabbed my dad and we started to maneuver through the timber towards the buck.
As we closed the distance, I started glassing the area where I had seen him, but he wasn't there. The sun had gotten higher and I figured he must have moved around the hill to stay in the shade.
WRONG.
The buck had actually moved the opposite direction I was looking, and was standing in the wide open, sun shining right on him. In the above photo, you can see a single pine in the clearing. The buck was just to the left of it. I don't think my dad's eyesight is too great these days, as he just couldn't pick him out. Finally, he was on him, but the buck had moved a bit, and now my Dad didn't have a shot due to that big dead tree. I know how Marcus feels when he's standing a few feet to the side with a perfectly clear lane, but Randy is obscured.
The buck walked into the aspens away from us, and we were deflated, expecting to have missed our chance. Suddenly, a buck walked out the exact opposite direction, heading back to where he'd been standing in the open before! My dad was on him, but wait... that's not the same buck, this one is smaller. Do you care? As he's thinking on that answer, the bigger buck comes back out of the timber and the answer is irrelevant.
I mention to him to make sure I know when he's going to shoot, so I can watch the shot, but a BANG goes off with me completely unprepared. It appears total miss and the deer bounce a little bit, but return to feeding. The shot is 170 yards, and my dad grew up in shotgun country, so this is actually the longest shot he's ever taken.
He regroups and ... BANG! At least I was on the buck this time. Again, it appears a miss again. The bucks don't even seem to notice, but disappear behind the lone pine. After a minute, the larger buck feeds out, but there is no sign of the smaller. An anxious couple of minutes go by as we're wondering if he shot the wrong buck? Finally, the smaller buck appears and we know its safe to shoot again. Dad decides he must be hitting low and aims 5 inches higher this time. BANG! FLOP. The deal is done.
I took most of the photos on his phone, but I did get a timer shot of the two of us on mine. We broke him down and I took the quarters while he packed the loose meat and skull.
