“Four hundred inches, four tags.” That’s what my longtime hunting partner, Dylan, said the day before the hunt started. That’s an easy task if you’re hunting deer in North America, unless you’re hunting what everyone calls the Grey Ghost, Coues whitetail. Coues are a much smaller subspecies of their Eastern whitetail cousins. They stand just over 30" at the shoulder, and the bucks rarely weigh over 110 pounds, while the does average 65 pounds. These deer are only found in Arizona, New Mexico, and Mexico. They are gaining a lot of popularity with out-of-state hunters, and people come from all over the map to hunt them.
Whenever we go hunting, there will always be four tags – my tag along with my three brothers’, Chet, Landon, and Dylan’s, tags. We are lifetime hunting buddies and have been putting in on the same ticket for almost two decades. Every year, we set up a small hunting camp, talk a lot of trash (mostly Landon and Dylan), eat a lot of mesquite-fired food, and even do a little bit of hunting. This year, we drew the coveted December Coues tag. That’s right, it was the rut hunt. We had had this tag a few different times and had pretty good success throughout the years. This year’s hunt was an exceptionally good year for all four of us.
We save our time off work all year so we can use it on our hunting trips. This year, because of the way the days landed in December, our hunt was December 11-31. That is a full three weeks’ worth of hunting these sneaky, oversized cottontails with horns. We took full advantage and hunted almost the whole time. We did have to go see the kids for Christmas, only because I couldn’t talk my wife into spending Christmas in the hills. Our families were able to camp with us for a few nights, and we love having them in camp.
Let me tell you about my brother, Chet. He would hunt every day of his life if he could. As much as I love hunting and everybody else loves hunting, he loves it more. He lives and breathes guns, bows, reloading for long-range shots, backpacking, etc. He is the reigning all-around Train to Hunt Champion in Arizona two years running. This year, we were struggling to find big bucks, so he packed up his backpacking gear and vanished for four days. When he ran out of coffee and Mountain House, he came back to hunt with us mere mortals. He has a hill named after him now because we didn’t know what else to call it. Chet had found what he called the “G-2 Buck,” for obvious reasons.
The next couple of days, we would hike in a couple of miles before daylight to get on top of his hill. We all decided that if we saw this big ol’ buck, Chet would shoot it. The only problem was that when I glassed up this buck, Chet was miles away hiking towards Mexico. The G-2 Buck was on the baldest, sunniest hill around just sleeping in the wide open. Anyone who hunts Coues knows how well these deer blend in and how long and hard you have to glass to find them. I couldn’t let this opportunity go. The buck was only 1,500 yards away, but there were two pretty good canyons to cross to get there. I made my stalk, only crossing one steep, rocky manzanita-infested canyon. I got in position, and sure enough, the deer was gone! I started glassing all the draws and bottoms. I kept my eye on the very top, just sure this deer was sneaking out somewhere. I was only 600 yards away from where the buck was just a little bit earlier. This was day 13, and I was ready to fill the first tag. My heart started pounding like I was shooting at a bugling bull with my bow at 30 yards. Then there stood G-2 10 feet from where I had left him one hour prior. All he had to do to disappear was move behind one big bitterbrush. I think the amount of days and the miles hiked led to my heart pounding with excitement. I finally calmed down, and because of Chet’s help both with long- range shooting and pretty much telling me where the buck-of-a-lifetime was, I filled the first tag of the year. Chet was happy that we didn’t let that one get away. I owe him one.
After Christmas Break, we filled three more tags in a timely manner. Dylan spotted and stalked his 4-point buck on day 17. The horns on his buck were almost solid red from blood, and he had one eyeguard missing and three other broken tines. He must have been a fighter. All of Chet’s hiking finally paid off on day 19 when in a nice little saddle on the biggest hill around on a cold, windy morning at 100 yards, he shot a really old, fat, healthy buck. We only had one tag left, and my youngest brother, Landon, was chomping at the bit. We had located a giant buck, and Landon went on multiple stalks and big hikes but with no success.
Day 21 arrived. The morning hunt was over, and time was running out. Thirty minutes before dark on the 21st day of the best whitetail hunt of my life, Landon made an epic stalk on a big main beam buck and filled his tag. We packed it out after dark, cleaned up camp, and headed back to the real world. We were leaving the hills with the most important thing – good times and good memories. We ended up with over 400 inches of whitetail antlers. That was just a bonus.
Arizona Deer
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