Friday, November 10, 2017 started off just like any other deer hunt my family and I have been on. It was still very dark and very cold, but my coffee was in hand and I was ready to go. As we drove out of town, our game plan was simple – we were going to take the truck up the mountain as far as we could, park, and start our walking journey up and around the mountain range. With me, as always, was my most trusted advisor and the one who taught me everything I know about hunting – my dad. Second in command, who always thinks he’s first in command, was my uncle, Gary, and for the first time in my hunting career, I was very proud to have my husband, Dillon, right next to me.
We started the journey up the winding dirt roads through the hills and draws until we finally found a perfect spot to stop the truck and continue our search on foot. The sun had just started to peak over the mountain range, barely lighting up the east side of the mountain right in front of us. Before anyone opened a door to exit the truck, my dad started glassing the mountain before us, just a quick check to see if there was anything there before we jumped out. We had a whole game plan of hiking our way to the top and then glassing down each draw as we walked along the ridgeline. However, It didn’t take long before I heard my dad say, “Deer, deer, very top.”
I have to give it up to the old man. He may be getting up there in age, but he can still spot deer perfectly. There were three of them, and they were about 500 yards out. We were all dead quiet, looking at the deer, when my uncle in his whisper-yelling voice started spouting off, “I’ve got horns, big buck, definitely a shooter. Katlin, get your gun.” I didn’t hesitate. When Uncle Gary yells that there’s a shooter, there’s no time for debating, it’s all action.
With my dad at the truck watching the deer, Gary, Dillon, and I started the walk straight up the mountain. We decided to go up the side of the mountain just to the left of the area where the deer was. There was a rocky ridge separating our journey up the mountain and the three deer grazing the hillside. As the three of us made our way up the mountain, we stayed in communication with my dad, who was giving us directions. Unfortunately, someone either forgot to bring radios or decided we didn’t need them, so that communication was dwindled down to my uncle Gary and my dad waving hand and arm signals back and forth to each other with blaze orange hats in their hands. It was not ideal, but somehow it worked out fine. We were given the signal to cut over, and we made our way across the side of the mountain to a group of boulders that we knew would overlook the area the deer were in. When we finally stopped on our side of the ridge, I began to load a bullet into my rifle. Gary peeked over the ridge, turned to me, and mouthed the words, “He’s right there.” Taking a deep breath, I got myself to the ground, rested my gun on the rocks, and located my target. He was only 150 yards away at this point. He was right there.
I saw horns, but I wasn’t counting. I didn’t go on this hunt for the sole purpose of taking down a monster. I go on these hunts for the experience, to create memories with my family, and to fill the freezer with meat. In this moment, all I was worried about was lining my sights up perfectly for the kill shot, and that’s what I did. I had the deer in my crosshairs and waited until he turned just perfectly. I shot. Without thinking, I immediately reloaded another bullet and lined my target back up. The deer was down, but we waited to see any movement. There was nothing but absolute silence. All of a sudden, the cheers and questionable language came pouring out of Gary’s mouth, “You got him! He’s done!” I finally breathed again and realized how much I was shaking.
After the immediate cheers and kiss from my husband, we took off to retrieve my deer. We were about 150 yards away, and it took us no time at all to reach the deer with all of our adrenaline. As we got closer to the deer, Gary started yelling and screaming even more, “He’s a good one! Holy cow, he’s big! Three, no five, no six!”
We had not fully reached the deer, and at this point, I was beginning to think my uncle couldn’t count. Six, really there’s no way! I thought to myself. We finally got to the deer, and we were all in a bit of shock. In my 13 years of hunting, I had never seen a deer this size. Furthermore, in all generations, my family hadn’t seen a deer this size either. For a minute, even Uncle Gary was speechless, which is saying a lot.
We got the deer down to the truck where my dad immediately hit me with a high five and a hug. It was all celebration after that! After field dressing the deer, taking pictures, and calling everyone we knew, it was time to head off the mountain. I don’t even think it was past 8 a.m. at this point and we were done, packed, and had horns sticking out as we drove back into town.
In the end, it was just another northern Nevada hunt for me. I was all smiles because this was yet another amazing experience, three of the most important men in my life were there to witness the journey, and I would soon get to walk into my living room every day and see this monster on the wall.
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