It started back in 2015. One of those miracles that only happen to other folks finally happened to me. I won a free antelope hunt in southern Alberta. The raffle style contest was run by Greg Williams of Golden Bear Outfitting in British Columbia, a Huntin’ Fool Endorsed Outfitter, but my hunt was with his son, Blake Williams of Livingstone Outfitters. Shortly after meeting Blake, he suggested that I join Huntin’ Fool, and I have been a member ever since.
I knew that hunting southern Alberta was a tremendous opportunity and that traveling from Pennsylvania to Alberta was a long way for a five-day hunt. Fortunately, Blake also had tags for mule deer in southwest Alberta the week following my antelope hunt, so I extended my stay and my cousin, Tom Hennessey, decided to join me on the mule deer hunt.
My antelope hunt was amazing, and I was able to harvest a nice speed goat after a challenging stalk on 20+ bedded goats. However, the subsequent mule deer hunt with my cousin was beyond my East Coast expectations. I didn’t know deer hunting like that existed. If I say we saw 20+ bucks a day, I am probably understating. It was an unbelievable experience, and we both harvested awesome mule deer. Yes, we had the “bug” and rebooked for 2018.
Growing up and hunting the mountains (at least by East Coast standards) of Pennsylvania, B&C, P&Y, or SCI scores were not the norm for most hunters. Many of us hunting there simply don’t have access to private land, good genetics, or the experience to hunt big mature bucks, most of us are simply dedicated hunters. I primarily consider myself a turkey hunter, if I must choose one moniker. However, that started to change in 2015 when I went on that mule deer hunt. I learned about scoring, age classes, and targeting mature deer. I also learned that I like mass and age over a younger, potentially higher scoring deer any day of the week. I also learned through the Huntin’ Fool magazine that hunting the West was more feasible than I thought.
Halloween of 2018 found my cousin, Tom, my friend, Bill Higgins, and me traveling to the Crows Nest Pass area of Alberta to chase mule deer and whitetail in the foothills of the Rockies. Blake and his team at Livingstone Outfitters gave us comfortable accommodations, great food, and wonderful companionship. Our experience from 2015 was repeated as we saw more animals (mule deer, whitetail, moose, and elk) on any given day than we would see in years of hunting the Pennsylvania mountains.
Bill, who was on his first western hunt, scored first with a beautiful chocolate antlered 4x4 that looked so pretty and unique that I suppose only a mule deer purist would dismiss it. Next came Tom who harvested a truly huge and ancient mule deer with a magnificent 280-yard shot that planted the bedded buck.
A day or so later, we spotted several whitetail bucks moving from feeding to bedding areas and started stalking. At first, we only saw spikes and a 6-point, but a larger buck eventually appeared. After a long stalk over broken ground, we were on a hill looking down at the deer in a thicket. They knew we were there, were looking at us, and were ready to bolt. I quickly dropped to prone and fired at the biggest buck from 180 yards, and he collapsed within 20 yards. He was a very nice 10-point for that area, and I was ecstatic as I had not taken a whitetail with a rifle in over 10 years, loving bowhunting can do that to a guy. Now I was back to mule deer.
It has long been a rule, and truly been painful to me, that my modus operandi on most guided hunts is to not have an opportunity at my desired animal until the last hour of the last day. Even to the point of sometimes boarding a plane still with animal blood on my person. Yes, a TSA dog was once involved. True to the past, this hunt was no exception but did have an added complication. Just prior to my Alberta hunt, I managed to injure my foot and ankle in a home improvement project but didn’t think it was too bad. However, now living at about 600 feet elevation and hunting at 3,000-5,000 feet, things were a little rough for this 53-year-old body even without the injury. After six days of hunting on the (subsequently diagnosed) two torn ligaments in my foot, my body was not very happy with me climbing the foothills of the Rockies. On the last day of the hunt, about five miles in, my guide spotted a good mule deer over a mile away. In the snow. Uphill. Away from the truck. Sigh. I was hurting so bad that I almost quit right there.
The stalk was physically brutal for me and not helped by the deer being at the end of a bowl with the wind against us. However, Blake brought us pretty close and, after a couple moves, we felt we could get in range. That worked well until two does that we didn’t see bedded in the willows busted out and ran right through all the deer. Luckily, all 15-20 does went left while the bucks went right into a sliver of timber.
We moved through the timber and onto the opposing hill and hoped to get a view of the bucks as they moved out the opposite side. A younger 4x4 came out and I got down on the pack waiting for the larger deer, a big 3x3, to follow him. Blake said, “We have to move. Now!” and grabbed the pack and ran up the hillside. Unknown to me, Blake saw the big 3x3 move through a different part of the timber and we had to gain elevation to have a chance. I ran up that snowy hill after him like a turtle with a broken leg and one lung. Limping slowly, painfully and struggling to fill my lungs.
When we (well, me) finally had gained enough elevation to see the big 3x3, I demonstrated not only poor decision making and poor initial shooting, but an apparent inability to hear the English language. Panting badly, I never heard Blake call out the distance and that deer looked so big to me that it had to be at 200 yards. I quickly developed buck fever and took (and thankfully missed) a walking away shot. Then I missed a quartering away shot. Then I hit low on a broadside shot. Then I finally caught my breath, focused, and regained basic comprehension of the English language. I heard Blake tell me that it was just over 350 yards. Reload.
The next shot, while not one that should be advised by someone who missed the prior three, was a good one. It was a head-on chest shot that would have been enough, but a follow-up broadside shot brought my mule deer to the ground. I tackled Blake and smeared snow in his face in celebration. He did more than his job; I almost didn’t do mine. Lessons learned for sure.
Continuing to learn about big deer, 2018 ended for me in Ohio at 5 Star Outfitters in De Graff, Ohio. This area is sometimes called “little Iowa” as they produce very big whitetails year after year. Joel Snow and his team there focus on big, old deer and have taught me what to look for. As my normal hunting partner, my dad, was going on 84 years young, we opted for the shotgun season. My dad had shot bucks there before, but 2018 did not give him an opportunity, although he passed on multiple deer. I did have an opportunity at last light one day and was lucky to harvest a mature, heavy antlered buck. He was old, and I am very proud of him.
Back at our respective homes, many of us may not have the variety of opportunities that those living in the West or Midwest have, but we should all consider traveling to new experiences. There are reasonably priced hunts, raffles, and other opportunities to expand your hunting opportunities. As they say, you are not getting younger and hunts are not getting cheaper. Call Huntin’ Fool to find out. It is more realistic than you think.
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