Haha well Mark, it's a fun problem to have. Nice talking to you this evening as always.
So here is the story. My buddy Chris and I drove up Wednesday so we could be ready to go the morning of opening day. We saw some good bucks going in, and lots of does with fawns. Looked good. At first light October 1 we were driving to our glassing position on a ridge below a high mesa, when we spotted a nice buck silhouetted over the ridge to our right. Mike stopped the truck, and we backed out to a couple hundred yards.
We gave it a few minutes, then got out and walked up to the top of the ridge. The group had moved down the slope, not in a big hurry but definitely moving away from us. they were over 550 yards away at this point. We dropped down below the ridgeline and ran along the track we'd been on when we first saw them, skirting down below another knoll. The deer had stopped to feed on a grassy open area with mixed cedars. The range was 285 yards. One of the guys with us had buck fever and while Mike tried to calm him down, I watched a couple of bucks to the left. The guy with the fever took a shot and missed, and one of my bucks moved to the right, clearing some brush and giving me a broadside shot. We were at 8500 ft elevation, so I didn't hold over at all with my 7mm mag. I was shooting down at about a 20 degree angle. I squeezed off a round and he dropped. Mike was watching with his spotting scope as I chambered another round. As I brought my rifle up again, the buck dipped over the edge of the old road he'd been on, and disappeared in the sage below. all the deer started moving rapidly away from us now, and my buck re-appeared behind them, moving less quickly but not struggling.
I gave them about 20 minutes, Mike took the other hunter off to check another area and they'd catch up with me later after I went down to track my buck.
I found a small amount of blood at the spot where he'd fallen and scuffed the earth getting up. I found another drop about 12 yards away, and didn't find another drop till 75-80 yards from there. I set up a marker and began making circles. There were tracks everywhere, so that was no help. Man, what I would have given for Zoe or Bolt at that point. I knew I'd be spending the rest of the day hunting for that animal. If you consider yourself an ethical hunter, nothing spells a day's work like a bad hit. I walked the draws all the way down for several miles. Mike picked me up and we all went to lunch, then 4 of us combed the area again all the way down from the road above. I found a nice shed, but no more blood. As I've gone over that shot, I think the descending angle, my decision not to hold over for bullet drop, and failing to aim for the far shoulder all combined for a low shot placement. I think I hit him in the brisket. I don't know why that would knock him down, but a low glancing blow could account for the small amount of blood. There just was not enough to give me a trail to follow, and we did our level best to bump anything that could have remained on that slope after our morning hunt.
We had some good hunts over the next couple of days, and several of the guys had tagged out by the time I got another chance. We were walking up a ridge with some mixed cedars and sage. We bumped a couple of 2 points, and a little while later practically stepped on a big 5x4 that had just let those young bucks run right past him. He took off hard quartering away from us, and I took a knee as I steadied my cross-hairs on him as best I could. As he reached a range of a little over 200 yards, he turned, then he slowed, and stopped. My pulse was still bounding from the walk up the ridge, and my shot went over his back. I chambered another round, he trotted right another 10-15 yards, and stopped again. By this time my pulse had settled enough to hold on him. We heard the bullet strike, but also heard what sounded like a bullet striking wood. the buck took off. He made it almost over the next ridge, about 100 yards, then reared up and fell over backwards. Ad that was that. That second bullet had blown a tennis ball sized hole in his left rib cage, and I think we had heard it go on to strike the tree he'd been standing in front of when I shot.
It's hard to do justice to this hunt in just a few paragraphs. I learn an incredible amount when I'm out with guys who can really hunt well. But I had to get this posted before I leave tomorrow, so there it is.... When I get more time, I'll try to flesh out the story better for the main SCH page.
Happy hunting everyone! I'm off to Colorado.
8)
