My oldest son, Chad Jr., moved to Wyoming 1,200 miles away. It’s difficult because we love hunting together. Chad Jr. and I both had deer tags for different areas – I had a general Wyoming deer tag for a location a couple hours from where Chad Jr. had his deer tag. My hunt was just before his, and the day my hunt ended, we met up for an evening drive so he could show me his unit. We were going to only be able to hunt together for a day and a half, so we had to make our time count.
The next morning as we were driving in the dark to our hiking destination, a buck crossed the dirt road in our headlights. Chad felt the buck might have been good enough for the time he could hunt. Being dark, we continued on to our original planned hunt. We saw a lot of deer and elk that morning but not a buck he wanted to shoot. With no luck that morning, Chad had me drop him off so he could hunt the headlight buck. Chad hunted all day trying to find where the buck held up. With still no luck, we ended the day perched on opposite sides on a point, Chad glassing off one side while I glassed off the other. When we met back at the truck, Chad explained how he was watching a group of three bucks. The biggest would just meet his minimum standard 4x4 – 24" wide, medium forks, and medium heavy. There would only be a few days left of his hunt after I was gone, so he thought this buck would do.
The next morning was our last chance to hunt together, and Chad wanted to be on the buck at first light. I suggested we hunt our way in, giving us an opportunity to get lucky on a bigger buck. Chad agreed, so at first light, we were working our way up the valley in the direction of the three bucks. We moved steadily along, glassing as we went. About halfway up the valley
to our destination, I glassed up on a ridge above us where I saw a big gray body and a quick flash of enough antler for me to immediately say, “Shooter buck.”
I pointed out the rock outcropping that the buck was steadily walking around. As soon as Chad’s glasses hit the buck, he was running to a rise 20 yards in front of us for a prone position.
The buck had bedded down in the rocks with his beautiful light-colored rack contrasted against the dark, rocky backdrop. We set up the spotter, and Chad worked out a stable prone broadside 575 yards behind a dead tree. His vitals were perfectly spaced between two branches. I said, “There it is!” and a moment later, Chad’s bullet anchored him down. The hit was a little high, so Chad hit him again to finish it.
I have found the hard-to-draw hunts are always stressful. It is natural to want to take a more mature animal after waiting 15, 20, or more years for a tag. Oftentimes, you are hunting an area you’ve never been to and may never be at again. This was one of the magical hunts, though, where it all came together. We boned out the buck on the spot, fitting all the meat in Chad’s position. All we could see of the buck was his head and neck. However, we didn’t have to wait long before the buck was up and moving. Chad dove back on his rifle as the buck stopped pack. Chad was wanting to test out his pack, and it went smooth all the way out. Chad’s quote to me at the conclusion of the hunt was, “We are still having our good ‘ol days.”
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