Every year, Nevada draw results come out and it’s a busy time of year. Being a guide in my home state of Nevada, I am always focused on what my family, friends, and clients draw. I typically assume that I won’t draw anything, but after hearing a few of my friends’ success stories, I decided to check out my results. I was on cloud nine that I had drawn a once-in-a-lifetime tag, one that allowed me to hunt any open season.
Big deer have always consumed me, whether it is running trail cameras, shed hunting, or hunting season. If there is a giant buck, I want to be involved. However, my clients come first, so as the booking wrapped up, I was slightly nervous that I did not have much time to hunt for myself. Luckily, it was a PIW tag, which left me with a lot of great options. I was stuck on hunting one desert unit, my favorite place to hunt in Nevada. I had a goal to hunt a buck that we had not got on trail camera during summer scouting.
When September rolled around, the archery elk hunts were wrapped up and I finally had a couple of days to hunt. I started off hunting the first few days solo because my dad was guiding a hunter in a different unit. I saw some great bucks and passed on a few 180-190 class deer. When my dad was finally able to arrive, we decided to move camp to a new location. The first evening hunt in this new location, my dad and I split up. He found a great buck that had one floating beam and a few cheaters. That night at camp, we went over his video and I loved the look of this buck, but it wasn’t quite what I was after. At this point, I was starting to feel like I was being a little too picky, but we continued hunting. The next day, I passed on a great typical buck that I shouldn’t have. My dad was starting to think we would never find a shooter buck, but I was not going to give up.
The next morning, we got up and split ways to cover more country. The morning was slow, which is typical for the desert. By the time 9 a.m. rolled around, I was getting a little 150 discouraged. I decided to go back to where I had started first thing in the morning. I set back up and my BTX was on three bucks that were feeding. One of the bucks stood out to me due to his large frame. I called my dad over to look with me, and the heatwaves were kicking in. We got one good look, and my dad and I knew that this was the buck. That evening, we got on different glassing points closer to where we had seen the buck, but he didn’t show.
The following morning, we went back to points where we could see more country. I knew the buck would show back up, it was just a matter of time. I started glassing, but I was only picking up a few horses. After an hour, we finally picked up a few bucks but not him. Being persistent was the game now, so we kept after it for the rest of the day only to get our butts whooped.
The next day started off colder with a little wet dew on the grass, and I knew it was going to be a good day. We set up, and right off the bat, I found one buck and was off to the rat race. My dad called me when I was halfway there, saying the buck was spooked by horses and he had lost him due to a long ridge. I told him to get me to where he last saw the buck and then I would work from there. I crept through the boulder pile, finally arriving where he last was, but he wasn’t there. I decided to work the ridge down and see if I could pick him back up. As I glanced across, I could see a white butt standing broadside. I pulled up my glasses, and he was 485 yards away, too far for open sight muzzleloader. I decided I would watch him go to his bed and then make my move. He went down a little canyon that was like a dinner bowl with cliffs all around him. I thought this was game over. I made my way over to the ledge, and as I looked down, he wasn’t there. I decided to continue down and check under the next ledge. As I started down, I looked off to my right and there he was 252 yards away, watching me straight on. I got set up, waiting for him to turn broadside, and as soon as he did, I squeezed the trigger. However, nothing happened other than him bounding off and me shaking, unable to reload my gun.
The walk back to the truck was disappointing. I had a client coming in for the opener of the rifle season in a different unit, and I had to go scout for his hunt. Reality set in that I had to take the chance of someone else finding the buck I wanted so badly. We packed up camp and took off. Luckily for my client and me, we ended up harvesting a great buck within three days and then I was back to the grind for my buck. My good buddy, Chad Plattsmier, came down to help my dad and me try to turn this buck back up. After grinding for three days, he didn’t show. I decided to still hunt the country where he was, but my heart sank as I started in and noticed boot tracks. They had walked all over his home. Did someone kill him while I was gone? Did he leave? All of the worst-case scenarios started running through my mind. We hunted a few more days high and low but with no luck.
After one evening hunt, we were headed back to camp and ran into a guy I knew. He was hesitant but asked what buck I was hunting. I was honest with him, and he told me they had almost got him opening day, but he got away. We decided to grind it out together a few more days, assuming he was still alive, but I was running on fumes. While I was disappointed, I knew it was time to head home and take a break.
The next morning, my dad got a call from the owner of Mossback Nevada, my boss, Russ Collard. He said that he had seen my buck feeding 30 miles from where we had been hunting him. I was two hours away, so I jumped in our little hunting truck and blasted off to meet Russ and my friends, Broc and Cameron. From there, we would head into where Mossback Nevada guides Joey, Nick, and Mike had the buck bedded. After a rough two-tracker, we finally made it to their trucks. We got our packs loaded up and took off. While I was excited, I thought there was no way this was my buck this far away. Right as we got to the top of the hill, he got up to switch beds and I was shocked to see that it was him. Russ, Broc, and I wasted no time. It was game on. We took off up the hill and snuck up a draw. We knew we were going to pop out close but definitely not 120 yards close. We eased up to a cliff ledge, and I could see him bedded under a tree. Russ told me the distance and to put it right behind the shoulder. I settled in and let him have it. We all shouted out, giving high fives and hugs. As we walked over, I was in disbelief that it was truly him. I called my old man right away since he couldn’t make it that day and told him the news. He has always supported me with my hunting endeavors, and nothing would be possible if it were not for him.
I can’t thank my Mossback Nevada team, Joey, Nick, Mike, Cameron, Chad, Broc, and Russ, my dad, and my girlfriend, Mia, enough for all the help and support on this wild ride to finally break the magic mark.
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