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- Jul 28, 2020
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I can honestly say something that I haven't been able to say since I was a kid. I have seen a total of 2 deer this year (while hunting) and I have shot both of them. The first was the 11pt at Cheatham during the muzzleloader hunt last weekend. The second was in the Valles Caldera area in Northern New Mexico three days ago.
This adventure started to take shape last January while accompanying my brother on an Oryx hunt at Fort Bliss. After seeing one up close, I mentioned that I had never shot a mule deer despite having grown up in New Mexico, and that it was a dream hunt for me. Turns out, he has never shot a whitetail. He had access to a mule deer landowner tag, and I have access to whitetail properties. A deal was made. The truth is, I was looking forward to reconnecting with my brother just as much as hunting Mule Deer. It's a long story, but we lost contact for far too long and I wanted to change that forever.
Last Friday I flew to ABQ, and we made the long drive up into the mountains to camp. The altitude at 9'000 feet was noticeable but not terrible. We both had a mule deer tag, and my brother also had a mountain lion tag.
SATURDAY
Opening day was slightly chilly, but despite nearly 10 hours of glassing, we didn't see a single animal. This area near Valles Caldera has burned twice in the last 15 years. The last time was a forest service burn in 2021 that got out of control. It did create a lot of very good habitat, but it dramatically altered the landscape. There are a lot of places to hide, and with comfortable weather no real hurry for animals to move. Day 1, skunked.
And what I thought was a deer turned out to be something else - not sure what it is but it never moved over 4 days and was 2 miles away.
SUNDAY
On Sunday, it started to get much colder and the expected snow arrived. I forgot my lens caps in the truck.
I finally spotted 2 Elk when they stood up from terrain I had already glassed for hours. In this picture they were about 600 yards away. It still blows my mind that an 800 pound animal can hide as well as they can. The morning snow melted away, but more was coming. By this point, we still hadn't seen any mule deer, though my brother assured me they had been seeing them just days before.
As the evening came to a close, we tallied the weekend efforts. Combined 40 hours of glassing separately resulted in 3 Elk sightings, 0 deer, 0 bear. The forecast was for heavy snow that night and much colder temperatures.
MONDAY
The weather forecast was not wrong. Over the next 18 hours, we got 15 inches of snow. Most of the day was dealing with limited visibility, sometimes less than 100 yards. It was supposed to stop in the afternoon, so after getting soaked and cold, we retreated to camp to wait out the storm.
As the snow lessened, several Elk started to become visible. This one was just 300 yards away. There was another just to his right. I also saw a bear cub climbing a tree about 1000 yards away. It was apparently his first snow, and he was not having any of it.
As day 3 came to a close, I started to get the sense that maybe this wasn't going to happen. I was still having a great time and enjoying the entire experience however.
TUESDAY
The forecast for Monday night was cold and clearing. What it didn't say was to expect 40-50 mph winds. I spent most of the night worried about getting blown off the mountain. Sleep was hard to sustain. I was awake well before my alarm went off and to be honest was pretty exhausted, and a part of me wanting to take the easy way out and sleep in.
But this was also likely our last chance, because more snow was forecasted for the next 3 days and we certainly didn't have enough propane or food to risk being stuck for a week or more.
I rose and got dressed for the day. Peeking outside, I could see a clear dark sky with the sun just rising in the east. I set off for an area we called the point, overlooking 2 large valleys. The convenience of this spot being that it was about 100 yards from camp but out of sight of it. The primary focus was on the large southeast facing slope about 300 yards away. It was very cold, and we hadn't seen sunshine since Saturday. This was my view as I started to glass. Something to the west caught my eye.
The funny thing is, in this burned landscape, a lot of features "look" like animals. The thing that caught my eye was a broken stump. However, standing just above it was a beautiful mule deer buck. I was in disbelief! My heart started to do that thing that it does when you know this is probably your one and only chance. I ranged him at 328 yards. I turned my spotting scope sideways to use as a gun rest, and adjusted the turret .7 Mils.
I almost pulled the trigger, but felt the gun pull left and realized I still need to calm down. He hadn't moved an inch. 2 deep breaths again and I squeezed. Regaining the sight picture, the buck hadn't moved. A miss??
The buck turned slightly and started a slow, stiff walk to my right. I squeezed again, this time intently trying to keep the scope on him as it recoiled. He flinched but didn't run. Certain I had missed but confident in the shots, I literally ran back to camp to grab a different rifle, while trying to keep an eye on the mountainside. It took about 30 seconds in the snow, but when I arrived I didn't see him anywhere. I started to get that feeling of dread, but I also had the presistent thought that if he had run off, I would have seen it. Switching to my spotting scope, I began glassing the last area I had seen him. And there, nestled in some this brush beside a burned tree trunk, I saw him.
As it turned out, both shots found their mark just behind the shoulder, and he had gone less than 10 yards before expiring.
I opened the camper door, and my brother - who was just as exhausted from a night of worrying we were about to try out for a mountain version of Flugtag - was dreaming and hadn't even heard the shots.
What started next was a drive down and a long hike up to get to the buck. It was so steep and slick we intentionally followed the briers to have something to hold onto. The buck was not visible from below, but an hour later we popped up on top of the slope just 10 yards from him. I was stunned not only by the antlers, but by the size of his body. We later measured his chest 52", and estimated his live weight at 340 based on his field dress weight .
(Before anyone says anything about an orange hat, you can see my orange beanie tucked inside my jacket. I was sweating to death and had just taken it off for the picture.)
What happened next was a lot easier than going up. We slid down the mountain with the buck sometimes in tow, and sometimes leading the way. It took just 20 minutes to get down. Unfortunately, he was very hard to steer and ended up in a deep ravine. And thats when we realized the truck was stuck. We hiked back to camp to look for supplies to try get unstuck. To keep this from being too long, we started to get pretty worried. Cell service was limited and we were in a bit of a pickle with more snow coming in about 12 hours. Thank God a neighbor from a valley over had taken it upon himself to try and clear the roads with a front end loader. We flagged him down and we were able to get the truck unstuck, and the buck unstuck, and make it back to camp. We broke down camp as fast as possible, and were headed down the mountain for good by 1PM.
Once we got back to Albuquerque, we took the deer to the landowner (who had given me this tag) where he was field dressed and quartered. I was able to bring back 40 lbs of meat, and gave the rest to him and my brother. They were very happy to take it. I also have to mention, for reasons I don't understand, this big mountain buck was not tough at all. The backstraps LITERALLY fell out of this buck, only having to cut to access them.
And as we ended the night back at my brothers house, we grilled a small piece of backstrap on his grill with no salt or pepper. Just wanted to taste the wilderness of this big, snowy mountain buck.
It was the most tender and mild deer I have ever tasted and it's not even close. I have no explanation, but I'm thankful.
I'm back in Tennessee now and I don't know when I'll go back, but I'm certain I'll dream of this trip often. The landowner and my brother are supposed to be coming here to hunt either later this year or next, and I hope to return the favor, although somewhat less spectacularly, I'm sure.
This adventure started to take shape last January while accompanying my brother on an Oryx hunt at Fort Bliss. After seeing one up close, I mentioned that I had never shot a mule deer despite having grown up in New Mexico, and that it was a dream hunt for me. Turns out, he has never shot a whitetail. He had access to a mule deer landowner tag, and I have access to whitetail properties. A deal was made. The truth is, I was looking forward to reconnecting with my brother just as much as hunting Mule Deer. It's a long story, but we lost contact for far too long and I wanted to change that forever.
Last Friday I flew to ABQ, and we made the long drive up into the mountains to camp. The altitude at 9'000 feet was noticeable but not terrible. We both had a mule deer tag, and my brother also had a mountain lion tag.
SATURDAY
Opening day was slightly chilly, but despite nearly 10 hours of glassing, we didn't see a single animal. This area near Valles Caldera has burned twice in the last 15 years. The last time was a forest service burn in 2021 that got out of control. It did create a lot of very good habitat, but it dramatically altered the landscape. There are a lot of places to hide, and with comfortable weather no real hurry for animals to move. Day 1, skunked.
And what I thought was a deer turned out to be something else - not sure what it is but it never moved over 4 days and was 2 miles away.
SUNDAY
On Sunday, it started to get much colder and the expected snow arrived. I forgot my lens caps in the truck.
I finally spotted 2 Elk when they stood up from terrain I had already glassed for hours. In this picture they were about 600 yards away. It still blows my mind that an 800 pound animal can hide as well as they can. The morning snow melted away, but more was coming. By this point, we still hadn't seen any mule deer, though my brother assured me they had been seeing them just days before.
As the evening came to a close, we tallied the weekend efforts. Combined 40 hours of glassing separately resulted in 3 Elk sightings, 0 deer, 0 bear. The forecast was for heavy snow that night and much colder temperatures.
MONDAY
The weather forecast was not wrong. Over the next 18 hours, we got 15 inches of snow. Most of the day was dealing with limited visibility, sometimes less than 100 yards. It was supposed to stop in the afternoon, so after getting soaked and cold, we retreated to camp to wait out the storm.
As the snow lessened, several Elk started to become visible. This one was just 300 yards away. There was another just to his right. I also saw a bear cub climbing a tree about 1000 yards away. It was apparently his first snow, and he was not having any of it.
As day 3 came to a close, I started to get the sense that maybe this wasn't going to happen. I was still having a great time and enjoying the entire experience however.
TUESDAY
The forecast for Monday night was cold and clearing. What it didn't say was to expect 40-50 mph winds. I spent most of the night worried about getting blown off the mountain. Sleep was hard to sustain. I was awake well before my alarm went off and to be honest was pretty exhausted, and a part of me wanting to take the easy way out and sleep in.
But this was also likely our last chance, because more snow was forecasted for the next 3 days and we certainly didn't have enough propane or food to risk being stuck for a week or more.
I rose and got dressed for the day. Peeking outside, I could see a clear dark sky with the sun just rising in the east. I set off for an area we called the point, overlooking 2 large valleys. The convenience of this spot being that it was about 100 yards from camp but out of sight of it. The primary focus was on the large southeast facing slope about 300 yards away. It was very cold, and we hadn't seen sunshine since Saturday. This was my view as I started to glass. Something to the west caught my eye.
The funny thing is, in this burned landscape, a lot of features "look" like animals. The thing that caught my eye was a broken stump. However, standing just above it was a beautiful mule deer buck. I was in disbelief! My heart started to do that thing that it does when you know this is probably your one and only chance. I ranged him at 328 yards. I turned my spotting scope sideways to use as a gun rest, and adjusted the turret .7 Mils.
I almost pulled the trigger, but felt the gun pull left and realized I still need to calm down. He hadn't moved an inch. 2 deep breaths again and I squeezed. Regaining the sight picture, the buck hadn't moved. A miss??
The buck turned slightly and started a slow, stiff walk to my right. I squeezed again, this time intently trying to keep the scope on him as it recoiled. He flinched but didn't run. Certain I had missed but confident in the shots, I literally ran back to camp to grab a different rifle, while trying to keep an eye on the mountainside. It took about 30 seconds in the snow, but when I arrived I didn't see him anywhere. I started to get that feeling of dread, but I also had the presistent thought that if he had run off, I would have seen it. Switching to my spotting scope, I began glassing the last area I had seen him. And there, nestled in some this brush beside a burned tree trunk, I saw him.
As it turned out, both shots found their mark just behind the shoulder, and he had gone less than 10 yards before expiring.
I opened the camper door, and my brother - who was just as exhausted from a night of worrying we were about to try out for a mountain version of Flugtag - was dreaming and hadn't even heard the shots.
What started next was a drive down and a long hike up to get to the buck. It was so steep and slick we intentionally followed the briers to have something to hold onto. The buck was not visible from below, but an hour later we popped up on top of the slope just 10 yards from him. I was stunned not only by the antlers, but by the size of his body. We later measured his chest 52", and estimated his live weight at 340 based on his field dress weight .
(Before anyone says anything about an orange hat, you can see my orange beanie tucked inside my jacket. I was sweating to death and had just taken it off for the picture.)
What happened next was a lot easier than going up. We slid down the mountain with the buck sometimes in tow, and sometimes leading the way. It took just 20 minutes to get down. Unfortunately, he was very hard to steer and ended up in a deep ravine. And thats when we realized the truck was stuck. We hiked back to camp to look for supplies to try get unstuck. To keep this from being too long, we started to get pretty worried. Cell service was limited and we were in a bit of a pickle with more snow coming in about 12 hours. Thank God a neighbor from a valley over had taken it upon himself to try and clear the roads with a front end loader. We flagged him down and we were able to get the truck unstuck, and the buck unstuck, and make it back to camp. We broke down camp as fast as possible, and were headed down the mountain for good by 1PM.
Once we got back to Albuquerque, we took the deer to the landowner (who had given me this tag) where he was field dressed and quartered. I was able to bring back 40 lbs of meat, and gave the rest to him and my brother. They were very happy to take it. I also have to mention, for reasons I don't understand, this big mountain buck was not tough at all. The backstraps LITERALLY fell out of this buck, only having to cut to access them.
And as we ended the night back at my brothers house, we grilled a small piece of backstrap on his grill with no salt or pepper. Just wanted to taste the wilderness of this big, snowy mountain buck.
It was the most tender and mild deer I have ever tasted and it's not even close. I have no explanation, but I'm thankful.
I'm back in Tennessee now and I don't know when I'll go back, but I'm certain I'll dream of this trip often. The landowner and my brother are supposed to be coming here to hunt either later this year or next, and I hope to return the favor, although somewhat less spectacularly, I'm sure.
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