The day was October 1, 2018. My daughter and I had started the morning with the mule deer hunt. After an uneventful morning and not being able to locate a shooter buck, we quickly switched to antelope hunting. Immediately after crossing over into my antelope area, we located a unique buck and sat and watched him for about an hour, hoping he would cross over onto public land only to come within three or four yards of the boundary line. Giving up on that buck, we moved on deeper into the area.
As we were traveling down the road to another section of public land that I knew about, we happened to come around the corner and saw a truck parked in the middle of the road. I saw a spotting scope sticking out the window, so I held up knowing there was a little section of BLM up there. After a bit, I saw a hand come out the window waving us forward. I pulled up next to them and began to casually chat with them asking him if there was anything out there worth shooting. They replied they were going to pass on him because he was not big enough for an opening morning buck. I then asked if they didn't mind if I took a look. I got out of the truck and threw up my binoculars on to the antelope. It took a second to figure out what he was because he was deep in the shadows of the hill. Once I realized they had misjudged this buck, I collected myself and seemingly asked them if they didn't mind if I shot him, trying to keep my excitement down. They replied that they didn't care and asked if they could watch. I said it was not a problem.
I quickly grabbed my pack, my gun, and my daughter and crossed the boundary fence. I made my way into the area about 20 yards. I posted up on a little hill and began to do some quick math on where the buck was located within the BLM, making sure he was on the legal side. I took a range, and he was at 376 yards. After some quick math, I determined that he was indeed inside the legal shooting area. I grabbed my daughter's headset and placed them over her ears. I then settled into my gun. As I was deciding my holdover, my daughter began to get impatient and started playing and fidgeting, so I knew I needed to hurry. I decided to settle on about a 10-inch hold over his back, putting my crosshairs just on the backside of his neck for wind compensation. I squeezed off my first shot, and he hunched up. Knowing I'd pulled the shot a little bit, I racked another round as he waddled forward. My second shot hit home just behind the shoulders, dropping him in his place. After a quick congratulations from the individual sitting in the truck on the road, I made my way out to him only to realize he was bigger than what I had perceived by looking at him through the binoculars. My first shot would have done him in eventually, clipping him just on the backside of the ribcage, exploding his liver.
I sat in awe of the goat that I had just shot because I'd never seen one of his size or quality in that area. I counted my blessings because of the individual who had passed on him. He ended of netting 80 4/8" with a gross score of 81 7/8".
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