October 2026
A Lasting Experience: A First Arizona Mule Deer Hunt
Hunter: Quinn Sullivan
Species: Mule Deer
Location: Arizona
Method: Rifle
Everyone knows the story of being a high-school athlete and the dedication that it takes, so now I will hopefully be able to portray how hard it is for a high-school athlete, in a short window, to kill a buck that will be hard to top for many years to come.
Hunting runs in my family’s blood. It dates back to my great-grandfather introducing the tradition to his boys. Hearing the stories they have about hunting and backpacking has always been so fascinating. They have a “game room” with all their trophies and pictures next to their kills. To me, there is nothing cooler. It was the start of my newfound obsession. I have previously been drawn for javelina and had a successful hunt, so when I got a call from my uncle that I had a credit card charge for a deer tag, I felt like I hit the lottery. The packing, scouting, and building anticipation were all there as the weeks led up to my hunt.
Opening Morning in the Desert
Finally, the day came for my first-ever deer hunt! It was Friday morning, opening day, when my younger brother and I met my grandpa, uncle, and his young son, Ritchie, way before the sun was rising. We drove for a couple of hours to the unit we would be hunting. We parked the truck, got the ranger unloaded, and started heading farther and farther into the desert, all five of us scouring the hills as the sun rose. We had so much fun exploring the terrain and seeing all types of mountains. My uncle would occasionally stop the ranger and glass the side of the mountains. He knows those hills like the back of his hand, so being in his company gave me reassurance. After about thirty minutes, there he was. Exactly what we had hoped for—a beautiful four-point mule deer in full velvet!
We were stoked watching him bed down in the sliver of shade he had found. This also meant we knew exactly where he would stay for a while. This was our cue; it was time to start heading his way. He was over a thousand yards away, so we knew it would take a while to get to him. We walked through a wash, over hills and boulders, constantly checking on him. It was hot, and my feet were hurting as we traveled to get into a proper shooting position. The excitement kept me from stopping.
He Vanished into Thin Air
About forty minutes had passed when my grandfather yelled over the radio, “He’s up! He’s up!” I immediately jumped on my gun, and my uncle jumped on his binoculars to see if we could spot him. We hiked around a little hill, and there he was, about to head up another mountain. By this point, he was about 130 yards out and, unfortunately, staring right at us. We tried to set up the rifle and the binos, but to our dismay, he moved again. We packed up our stuff and were on the move, heading closer to the mountain where we last saw him. We searched and searched for what seemed like hours to no avail. He had vanished into thin air.
My mood instantly changed. I was completely bummed out. I knew that he was a trophy animal, and I figured he was long gone. We hopped in the ranger and scoured the hills with our eyes peeled. The nearby water hole and a few more valleys all came up short. We decided that maybe we needed a little pick me up, so we ate lunch, talking and scheming on where he could have gone. We came to the conclusion that we needed to call it a day and come back early the next morning.
A Second Chance
Call it hunter’s intuition, but on our way out, my uncle said, “I bet he is in one of these little valleys right here.” He hopped on the binos one last time. “Holy crap, I got him!” I couldn’t believe it. The whole mood changed, and we were on a mission. He fooled us once; it wasn’t happening again.
We set up the rifle and binos, and the nerves kicked in. I waited for him to turn broadside, and as soon as that happened, my uncle, quietly but firmly, gave me the green light to pull the trigger once I was ready. “Fire in the hole” were the words he said over the radio to let our spotters on the hill know. I held my breath and pulled the trigger. The deer jumped, and for a moment, my heart sank. I just knew I’d missed. I looked over at my uncle and waited for him to give me guidance. I had so many thoughts running through my head, and my uncle’s voice stopped them all when he yelled, “You got him, Quinn! You did it!” The emotion inside of me was a rush I’ll never forget. My brother and grandfather stood up and were high-fiving and yelling with excitement. In that moment, everything felt perfect. The adrenaline was something I hadn’t yet experienced in my sixteen years of life.
The hike to the deer felt so fast. We were joking and laughing, still filled with joy. It was a perfect shot, a clean kill, and we made sure to thank God for the animal who gave its life to us. It would feed our family for months, and I was so grateful.
More Than Just a Hunt
I am also grateful to my uncle and grandfather who have introduced my brother and I to this amazing experience. This is more than just a hunt. This is quality time and memories and laughs I won’t ever forget. This is a skill that I someday will pass on to my son. It is a forever gift. It is a lasting experience!
Additional Resources
- Arizona Application Strategy
- Arizona State Profile
- Arizona Hunting Regulations
- Huntin' Fool Adventures
- Become a Huntin' Fool Member