200 inch Mule Deer

Hard Work Pays Off
By: Matt Gray

Growing up in a small community has its perks, especially if you love hunting. Waking up every morning, staring at monster deer hanging in your bedroom, because there was no room in any other room wasn’t such a bad thing. But all those big bucks were killed 50 to 100 years ago, and pretty soon you start feeling like you were born just 50 years too late. My family has a long history of big bucks. A hundred years ago they would kill big bucks like we shoot two points today.

My hunting fever started at a very young age. My dad started taking me archery hunting when I was five years old, letting me sit in the ground blind only to sleep through most of the morning action and to wake up catching the tail end of the morning hunt. Early on I knew what a big buck was because back then, that was all that we hunted! At age 14 I started hunting with a bow, and every other hunt I could fit in as well. Hunting waterholes was the only way you did it early in the season, and a 40 yard shot was a mile away. Plus you could always expect a good nap in the afternoons. I had no idea that it would take 11 years of hunting, a few changes in bow technology, and a good pair of optics to make things come together. 2013 was the year that luck finally came my way. All the past stalks and close calls taught me enough to bring this story together.

The opener of the archery is always such a pleasure when it comes to public land. It seems like you see more camo than deer and you know you will always see a good buck, but he will be running from someone that didn’t even know he was there. As usual for the opener, I sat back waiting for the first weekend to close, and waited for a good friend Cory Lundin to arrive from up north to bring in another pair of optics. This year, after the first weekend closed and on the third day of the hunt, we set out to check the spots that I had spent pre-season scouting looking for bucks we had seen in previous seasons and throughout the year.

That morning we turned up nothing worthwhile, but we knew that the deer were still shifting from the weekend warriors. We headed out to one of my favorite spots, glassing till our eyes bulged from our heads. We turned up nothing, so with a half hour left of daylight I decided that we would check a small canyon nearby. In the past years it had held a buck we hoped would show up and also hopefully put some more horn growth on. Checking that canyon we immediately found a buck of considerable size. He was easy to recognize, and having a couple of large cheaters we could tell that this was a mature deer. With a quick decision that he was big and knowing we were about out of daylight, I made my mile run as fast as I could trying to get in front of the buck grazing and moving to water. Darkness made its move a little faster than I could and decided not to push him and go back the next morning and hopefully relocate him.

The next morning there was no sign of the big buck. We spent all day looking for him, and as frustration set in thinking he might have been pushed into a box canyon by other hunters, I still had hopes that I would get a chance because I knew that this area was his home. On the morning of day five we glassed right at sun up in the same canyon, only to find nothing. We decided to check the other places nearby just in case he had moved. We left and glassed all of the deer we could until they bedded and then decided to return back to camp. On the way back, we stopped and looked over the canyon one more time in hopes of seeing him. Just then in the bottom of the canyon, Cory caught a glimpse of a good buck. We pulled out the spotting scopes, and sure enough, it was him! He was easy to spot because of his cheaters and mass. The tricky part was that he was with two other bucks, and after only a few minutes three smaller bucks joined up with him. We watched him for a good half an hour realizing after some time that he was a buck that I had watched in previous years. The previous year he was only a big 3×4 so it took some time watching the buck before I connected all the dots. One year of growth had produced new points and length and had turned a good buck into a great buck!

After bedding him down, the stalk began! During my stalk, as luck would have it, I spotted movement on a far ridge. Pulling up my glasses I could see another hunter working his way across the ridge. His pace was slow and steady and I could tell that he was heading in the same direction. It was at this point that I realized that I would be forced into a midday stalk if I was going to get a chance this buck. I was a lot closer than the other guy, and I decided to make the move above the buck and make sure that I would be close enough to take action if needed. After moving closer and leaving my buddy behind on the spotter still watching the buck in his bed, I kept the wind in my favor and moved closer and closer to the buck. I slowly began moving down the hill to where I thought I might be close enough for a shot if the buck got up and moved. We continued to watch our new rival, and were hoping that he wouldn’t come down and blow the deer out in spite of my better position. When I arrived within what I thought was 70 yards of where he was bedded, I checked the wind again and I sat down under a small pine tree in the shade.

Nearly two hours passed and I knew that I might have to sit there all day. I tried to stay in the shade as long as I could and maintain my position for when the magic moment occurred. Knowing that we had six deer to deal with, the chances seemed slim of things going our way. Just as I had finished that thought, the big buck stood up, and to my surprise he began to slowly work up the hill towards me, leaving his buddies for a cooler spot. Knowing where the other hunter was and that the buck was moving my direction, I slowly relocated to a better spot between me and the buck. Ranging my distances, I had 80, 65, and a 40 yard shots through three openings. The last word from my friend looking through the glass was that the buck was still moving and that he couldn’t see him anymore. Just then I caught a glimpse of a deer, and as he turned under a tree I could see the cheaters plain as day. I quickly ranged the buck again, and with a 40 yard shot through a pie-plate size hole to shoot through, I let one fly!