“Hey Dad, what are your hunting goals?” That was the question my 15-year-old son, Connor, asked me during this year’s general season Utah elk hunt. I asked him what he meant, and he said what size deer and elk do you want to hang on the wall? I had not thought about that question for a long time. Now that I have kids who are hunting, my priorities have changed and I hunt to make sure they succeed.
I told Connor when I was a young man I always dreamed about harvesting at least a 350" bull elk and a 200" mule deer. I had harvested some amazing animals and been on some unforgettable hunts, but I had never reached my goal. Connor asked if I thought I would ever reach my goal. I said you just never know, but I think the 350" bull is easier than the 200" buck.
This year, I drew out for a deer tag but was looking forward to the kids hunting and my dad drew a third season Colorado deer tag. The kids also drew out for antelope in Wyoming, which is always a blast, so my Utah deer tag took a back seat in my excited hunts list.
By the time all the kids’ hunts were done, which they were all successful on and we had an amazing time, I only had four days to hunt my deer tag before we left for Colorado. I had hunted this area before, and in fact, my dad had the tag last year and harvested a nice 4-point. I knew the area and that it was not known for giant bucks. I was looking for something in the 160-170" range or I would just warm up the stove and have some tag soup.
Unfortunately, it was Monday morning and Connor had already missed enough school from the other hunts that he could not make the trip. I loaded up the ol’ man, my dad, Derk, and headed out. We were hunting from home as the unit was only about an hour and a half away. It was a very cold and windy morning.
As we unloaded the side-by-side in the cold and the dark, I considered getting back in the truck and waiting until the sun came up. I think we have all thought about that a time or two. We bundled up and embarked on the 45-minute ride to the top of the mountain. I had an idea of where I wanted to be right at daylight.
The ride was extra cold and seemed like it took forever. Once we arrived at the place I wanted to be, it was perfect. I could smell the cold mountain smell, and the hunting bug hit me hard. I just knew we were going to find a great buck. It felt right. Well, “felt right” quickly gave way to where are the deer? We glassed this canyon where we had always seen deer but could not dig up a single doe. Was it too late in the year? Did the deer already start to move to winter range? Did the hot, dry summer change where they live? These were all the things running through my mind.
The day went on and it did not get much better or warmer. We searched, glassed, froze, and glassed some more. We reminisced about hunting trips and all the fortunate hunts we have had the opportunity to go on together. Since I was just a small lad, my dad has taken me across this great country chasing everything and teaching me how to be a responsible and humble outdoorsman.
As the short day was giving way to evening, the sun was promptly starting to head west and it appeared the bucks, or lack thereof, were going to roam the mountain free from the worry of the human predator. One small group of does that we had seen twice throughout the day made their way out of the quakies and started feeding. I was hesitant to even look at them because I had looked them over so many times earlier and knew as hard as I tried to put horns on them I just could not do it. Going against my better judgement, I decided to check them out one last time for the day.
I said, “Um, Dad, I believe that doe over there has horns and she has good ones.”
Dad just laughed as he knew I was pulling his chain, but I was serious. That was a nice buck. Dad spotted the motionless deer staring right back at us in hopes that we did not see him if he did not blink. The buck was like a statue and would not move so we could look at him. Finally, after nearly five minutes, he turned his head and I could see he was a beautiful 4-point buck probably in the 160" range. The decision was made that he was not the one I wanted to hang my tag on.
With merely 30 minutes left of good shooting light, we moved on. We only had time to go one of two directions. I said, “Let’s go this way and check some sage flats where we have seen deer in the past.” Dad agreed and thought that was a good idea. At the last second, and I still have no idea why, I decided to go the opposite direction. My dad was as puzzled as me and all I could say was I just think this way is going to be better.
We got to a place where we could glass and had seen deer in the past and decided to watch until dark, which was only 15 minutes away. I had just pulled up the reliable old Vortex Razor HDs when I saw something that looked like a crafty old buck sneaking through some sparse quakies. He had his nose nearly in the dirt taking in the glorious smell of a doe in estrus. He appeared to not have a care in the world. I could not believe what I was seeing! It was one of those times that you just know without having to take a second look.
Scrambling to get my frozen hands on the ice-cold stock of my favorite deer rifle, I was waiting for the giant to realize he was in a bad spot and make a dash for the thick timber or the cliffs and ledges. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I was able to hold the Creedmoor to my shoulder. I knew he was within 100 yards, so I didn’t even waste the time to fire up the Burris Eliminator 3. He was still moving right to left, ignoring the fact that I had practiced and shot many rounds in hopes of a time this exact scenario would play out. I excitedly, but confidently squeezed the trigger, waiting for the picture in my scope of him falling. My smile and confidence came to a screeching halt when he continued walking in the same direction without a worry in the world. I did not just miss the easiest shot on a truly magnificent buck, did I? Waiting for him to explode out of the country, my heart and soul sunk. I quickly chambered another round and tried to calmly wait for him to clear a couple of trees before I could have another shot. He never lifted his head, he never ran, and he looked like he had only one thing on his mind, and it wasn’t me! He cleared one last tree, and I settled in and let the Hornady 140 grain ELD-X bullet fly. This time, the picture in my scope was finally the outcome I wanted as I watched the old warrior fall.
Making the short walk over to him, I didn’t know exactly what was waiting for me as I never took much time to analyze him on the hoof. There was absolutely no ground shrinkage. He tipped the scales right at 219" and some change. I could not believe what I was seeing. The celebration with my dad is something I cherish. We have been on so many adventures together, and the true happiness and excitement we share together are better than anything.
This buck far exceeded anything I could imagine, and I am grateful for the opportunity of sharing the experience with my dad. He has taught me everything I know about hunting and has taken my brothers and me hunting since I was born. I love taking my own kids now and sharing with them the love of the outdoors that my dad showed me.
I would like to thank my wife, Sarah, for knowing my love for hunting and the outdoors and working extra hours to help pay for my taxidermy bill. I have four awesome kids, Connor (15), Kadence (14), Kinlee (9), and Matthew (8) who all love the outdoors. I am the Police Chief of a small town in Utah, which I love so much. We are a close family, and the outdoors and hunting is something we love to do together.
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