I know this is long winded over an average buck but I’m a novice deer hunter and in 5 years of spending an extraordinary amount of time scouting and hunting deer in San Diego, this is only the second deer I’ve ever killed so forgive me for my overexcitement.
My buddy and I have been scouting and hunting hard on our A22 tags at a particular spot for most of this year now. We’ve been patterning a few bucks in the area and got a relatively good idea of the ins and outs of their habits. After several close calls and blown stalks from crunchy dirt and bad decisions, we were fired up knowing they were in full rut and we could reach out and touch em once rifle season started.
Friday before opener, I decided to bring Henry, my dog, to deer camp so my wife wasn’t stuck taking care of a toddler and a needy dog by herself for another weekend. I cleared with the warden the weekend prior that I was able to bring a companion dog and I was happy to do so.
Opening morning, we saw a whole lotta nothing but Saturday evening had that feeling like you knew it was going to be lively out there.
I methodically worked my way into the canyon with Henry in tow when I saw multiple trucks skylined upwind at the top of the canyon, rifles mounted on tripods, and hunters hootin and hollering. I tried my best to use it to my advantage knowing that deer would likely be paying attention to them instead of me.
A few hours in, I spotted a buck and a doe at 350 yards. I got setup to shoot but the buck stood feeding right at the peak of a small knob for quite a while. It would’ve been an irresponsible shot to take so I waited for them to move but they never gave me a shot as they dropped into the thicket. I tried to slip in above them to get an opportunity. All the while, Henry kept getting chollas stuck in his paws since he was distracted from all the excited. While pulling cactus out of his paws for the 10th time, I got the feeling like I was being watched. Sure enough, the buck and doe had popped out almost behind us and were staring at me. BUSTED.
Thinking it wasn’t going to happen, I pulled out the binos and confirmed that the same legal forky was staring me in the face at 135 yards. They didn’t spook so I shouldered my rifle, calmed myself down, squeezed off a round, and dropped him dead in his tracks.
It was almost dark when we got to the deer so I got straight to work gutting him while Henry curled up at my feet and took a nap. This is only my second deer ever and I should’ve brushed up on field dressing this year because I clearly didn’t remember as much as I thought I did. The stress kicked in knowing that I was in the dark with my dog where there’s a ton of predators, no service, no radio, a good ways from the truck, and slightly in over my head. I finally managed to gut the deer while keeping the meat clean despite cutting the hell out of my finger trying to free up the colon.
Henry had a hard time walking from all the cactus I yanked out of his feet so we left the deer, I carried him as quickly as possible to the truck and we shot over to camp hoping the coyotes wouldn’t beat us back to the deer. My friends were awesome and jumped up to helped me drag the deer out while Henry stayed back at camp. Didn’t get the buck hung up till after midnight but we made it happen.
Henry took it upon himself to claim the deer as his own and he slept under the deer while we ate a late tenderloin dinner. He even got unusually feisty with the warden the next morning when she was validating my tag.
I was so wiped out in the morning after quartering the deer and packing up that I reluctantly took the deer to a processor instead of doing the butchering myself. It was weird being that tired considering the drag out wasn’t that bad but I later found out I was coming down with a nasty cold so at least I could tell myself that I had a good reason for being a wuss. I’m still a little mad at myself for taking the easy way right at the finish line but damn it feels good to have deer in my freezer again!
My buddy and I have been scouting and hunting hard on our A22 tags at a particular spot for most of this year now. We’ve been patterning a few bucks in the area and got a relatively good idea of the ins and outs of their habits. After several close calls and blown stalks from crunchy dirt and bad decisions, we were fired up knowing they were in full rut and we could reach out and touch em once rifle season started.
Friday before opener, I decided to bring Henry, my dog, to deer camp so my wife wasn’t stuck taking care of a toddler and a needy dog by herself for another weekend. I cleared with the warden the weekend prior that I was able to bring a companion dog and I was happy to do so.
Opening morning, we saw a whole lotta nothing but Saturday evening had that feeling like you knew it was going to be lively out there.
I methodically worked my way into the canyon with Henry in tow when I saw multiple trucks skylined upwind at the top of the canyon, rifles mounted on tripods, and hunters hootin and hollering. I tried my best to use it to my advantage knowing that deer would likely be paying attention to them instead of me.
A few hours in, I spotted a buck and a doe at 350 yards. I got setup to shoot but the buck stood feeding right at the peak of a small knob for quite a while. It would’ve been an irresponsible shot to take so I waited for them to move but they never gave me a shot as they dropped into the thicket. I tried to slip in above them to get an opportunity. All the while, Henry kept getting chollas stuck in his paws since he was distracted from all the excited. While pulling cactus out of his paws for the 10th time, I got the feeling like I was being watched. Sure enough, the buck and doe had popped out almost behind us and were staring at me. BUSTED.
Thinking it wasn’t going to happen, I pulled out the binos and confirmed that the same legal forky was staring me in the face at 135 yards. They didn’t spook so I shouldered my rifle, calmed myself down, squeezed off a round, and dropped him dead in his tracks.
It was almost dark when we got to the deer so I got straight to work gutting him while Henry curled up at my feet and took a nap. This is only my second deer ever and I should’ve brushed up on field dressing this year because I clearly didn’t remember as much as I thought I did. The stress kicked in knowing that I was in the dark with my dog where there’s a ton of predators, no service, no radio, a good ways from the truck, and slightly in over my head. I finally managed to gut the deer while keeping the meat clean despite cutting the hell out of my finger trying to free up the colon.
Henry had a hard time walking from all the cactus I yanked out of his feet so we left the deer, I carried him as quickly as possible to the truck and we shot over to camp hoping the coyotes wouldn’t beat us back to the deer. My friends were awesome and jumped up to helped me drag the deer out while Henry stayed back at camp. Didn’t get the buck hung up till after midnight but we made it happen.
Henry took it upon himself to claim the deer as his own and he slept under the deer while we ate a late tenderloin dinner. He even got unusually feisty with the warden the next morning when she was validating my tag.
I was so wiped out in the morning after quartering the deer and packing up that I reluctantly took the deer to a processor instead of doing the butchering myself. It was weird being that tired considering the drag out wasn’t that bad but I later found out I was coming down with a nasty cold so at least I could tell myself that I had a good reason for being a wuss. I’m still a little mad at myself for taking the easy way right at the finish line but damn it feels good to have deer in my freezer again!
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