Jason's Buck

Okay, so yesterday Johnny shot his buck; it was a long, hard day! Today, I had a hard time getting out of bed. If my brother Adam wasn't coming over I wasn't getting up! As a matter of fact I made us late because I was WIMPING OUT! We were almost to the mouth of the canyon we were going to hunt up and I almost turned around. Adam talked me into going up anyway (we were a good 1/2 an hour late).

We were headed to an area Johnny and I had seen from the top of the ridge the morning before. I spotted a couple of deer (they were over a mile away) over there and I figured they were bucks because of their size, location and the way they were acting. I never could see antlers, but I thought it would be a good place to check out.

Adam and I practically ran the 2 miles up the canyon to where we had talked about working our way up onto the ridges. We ran into a nice bull moose and a few mule deer does where we decided to climb up. The bushes and grass were wet, so we put on our Gore-Tex and headed for the top. A little after 8 am we stopped to take some pictures of the canyon below us. The fall colors were out and the lighting was perfect for a good picture. Adam tightened his boots (see the first picture below) and we climbed another 500 feet in elevation.

Just before breaking out on top of the ridge Adam asked me if I had a shell in the chamber yet. I hadn't put one in and so I did. We peaked over the ridge and my buck broke for the timber. He was feeding just above us in a clearing. I ran to a small rock outcrop and laid down with my elbow through my sling. I was rested on both elbows, tight to the ground and picked the buck up in my scope quickly. I called for a range from Adam (we carry laser rangefinders) but he was still trying to get it out. My first shot was way behind him (he was 300 yards out running hard from right to left). He stopped in the trees, then dove into a narrow shoot between two cliffs. I hit him just as he got to the bottom, spinning him around. Adam called a range of 273 yards and I shot him through the chest, just creasing his antler with my bullet. He was looking downhill at me and his rack covered the vitals. He tumbled at the shot, and as my dad always says, "now the work begins!"

We packed him down and when we hit the bottom we took off our packs and took pictures of the stream we were walking beside. It disappeared into the ground and we wanted pictures of it for our classes (we both teach science here in Star Valley). We had just got headed down the trail when the heavens opened with one tremendous downpour. We got our rain gear back on and walked through the hail, wind and rain for another half an hour. It finally stopped, the sky cleared and we were steaming as the sweat and water evaporated off us in the indian summer sun. We made it back to the truck by 2 pm. We spent the rest of the day hanging meat and taking pictures of all our deer together (See the first photo on my brother Adam's story).

You know, it's kind of funny, referring back to my dad's famous comment, "and now the work begins!", but the work or job, in my mind was started months ago. The preparation (scouting, sighting in the gun, sharpening knives, hiking to the spot I shot from) was all work, it was all part of the job. Being successful, packing out meat, taking pictures, cutting up the animal and filling the freezer is all fun in its own right, its just finishing the job I already started.

I love to hunt. I love even more to take my kids hunting! I am so thankful my dad spent the time he did instilling this love in me. Many of my friends don't hunt anymore, or never started, even though their dads did and still do. The time was never invested in them so they would like/love it. They don't see the benefits of the preparation, the physical and mental pain that comes from packing out an animal 2.5 miles from the end of the road on your back. They don't see the benefits because they never experienced it. Or they did experience it, but they didn't understand the gift their dad was trying to give them.

My wife and I have talked about just buying meat from the store. It is less time consuming and on sale, costs about the same as the deer, elk, and antelope (antelope are really not a good investment. Little and expensive. But they are so much fun to hunt I just can't quit!) but I don't build memories with my kids. I don't sweat, bleed, hurt, laugh and cry like I do hunting. There isn't the elation of being successful, or the downtrodden feeling of missing, screwing up a stalk, or just hunting for 2 months straight in rough country and not having things work out. You don't push your self mentally or physically at the store! The mountains push us! They make us who we are. That is why I continue to hunt and why I want my kids to hunt! They understand its work. They have been to 10,000 feet with me. They have gotten up way before daylight and watched the sun slowly climb over the eastern horizon, and then gotten home long after the sun has set in the western sky. They've experience the exhaustion of a hard day in the mountains. They also want to do it again!

So many times I have reached the truck dead tired. My muscles are shot and I'm not sure I could have made it another 400 yards with my pack. I've sweated through every layer of clothing and I stink from the labors of the day and the blood (hopefully not mine). But when the tailgate comes down and the pack is off my back and I can feel the weightlessness that comes with packing meat in hard country, I always ask myself, "would you do it again tomorrow?" And the answer is always, "of course I would!"

The fall colors were pretty impressive this morning. I had to stop and take a picture.

I don't know why I like this photo so much. I guess it's because I have seen it so many times. I turned around after taking pictures of the fall colors and saw my little brother tightening his boots. I guess it just reminds me of so many days in the mountains with him and my dad. I shot my buck within 10 minutes of this picture being taken.

This was the kill shot. Just after I shot him and he rolled down the hill I looked over at Adam and told him I thought I'd shot his antler in half. I guess I'm not that good of a shot!

Me with the buck. I was really pretty happy when I got to him. I'd hunted hard this year and this was the biggest buck I saw. Last winter was tough! We lost a lot of animals and the antler growth wasn't what it was a few years ago. I should have caped him out, but I didn't want to carry the extra weight!

His eye guards were stuffed with bark. I love the smell of pitch and bark on antlers.

Adam, my brother, with me and the buck. We've become a pretty good team. It all started when I was 20 and he and I killed a 6-point bull and a buck together in 6 days. I shot the bull with my bow the last day of archery season, and he killed the buck 6 days later the opening morning of deer season. We spent the night out with the bull. The buck we got to the top okay, but what a miserably wonderful day of hunting in the fog and rain!

Adam said the last picture was all we needed but I had an evil plan to lick him in a picture. So I asked for one more. I'm not sure if I'm more disgusting for trying to lick him, or if he is because all he did was smile!