Two Bucks in Five Minutes

            The 2003 Colorado deer season was anticipated as always, but my hopes of harvesting a nice muley buck were not high.  My brother Dustin and I were forced to hunt only the opening weekend of the hunt due to work obligations.  Needless to say, we were both a little disappointed at the prospect of hunting for only two days.  With the rationale that two days is better than none, we put a plan together.

            We decided to hunt a small parcel of land where we had seen some really good deer throughout the summer and early fall.  The chances of seeing a buck in the area are usually good, but we could only hunt a small fraction of that area.  To hunt this spot, we reasoned that it would make little sense to hike up before first light, only to spook the deer into country we could not hunt.  Instead, we sat patiently glassing the ridge from below, hoping to spot a buck passing through. 

After an hour or so had passed, Dustin spotted a nice buck working his way toward us at nearly a 1/4 of a mile away.  We both agreed that the buck would not continue traversing the ridge toward us; we knew he would soon head west up a draw that slices through the north-south hogback ridge, leading into a valley on the other side.  Once the buck disappeared into the draw, we knew the opportunity to intercept the deer would not last long.  Thankfully, a small buck that had been milling about just above us on the ridge had moved off, allowing us to quickly make our way to the top.

            With rifles in hand, Dustin and I moved up the slope at a steady pace, knowing that the buck would not spend much time in the valley we’d hoped to spot him in.  As we neared the top, I kneeled quietly while Dustin covered the remaining 50 yards to the top.  My eyes were trained on Dustin as he crawled to the crest.  I knew by the way his binoculars were trained that he had spotted something.  He crouched back down and headed along the ridge, signaling to me that the buck was further down the valley, to the north.

I was moving in no time, shedding my pack and pulling out the rangefinder as I followed.  Dustin crept slowly upward, using a small ponderosa pine for cover as he reached the top.  He handed me his pack as he shifted into a prone position and inched his rifle up over the ridge.  I slithered slightly behind and to the right of him and ranged the deer that was walking purposefully toward a clump of trees on the opposite side of the valley.  “One hundred and eighty-three yards,” I whispered.  I heard the crack of the .30-06 just before the buck reached the cover of the trees.  Dustin fired once more for insurance as I watched the buck tumble backwards down the slope.  The second shot was not necessary, he hit the buck perfectly.

Dustin turned and whispered noisily, “He’s a good one!”  We were both thrilled, and carried on back-slapping and hand-shaking before gathering our gear.  A thought entered my mind at that point, and I handed Dustin my pack and asked him to hold it for me.  I quickly told him I’d be back shortly, and that I was going over and around the ridge to see if any deer were still around.  The rut was beginning to heat up at that time of year, and I considered the small possibility that there could still be a buck further down the valley, in the direction Dustin’s buck had come from.  I grabbed my rifle and headed over the ridge toward a series of rock ledges that would allow me to see a small meadow where the draw and valley intersect. 

Not long after I rounded the ridge, I spotted a group of deer looking right at me.  I froze for a millisecond and immediately picked out a big-bodied, heavy-antlered buck standing in the middle of a group of does.  Before I had time to react, the deer were moving quickly away, toward the meadow.  I ran along the rock ledge to close the gap as much as I could, and plopped down on my rear to prepare for a shot that would extend well beyond 200 yards.  Shouldering my rifle and leaning across my knees, I knew it was now or never.  Through my scope, I followed the group of deer through the trees as they headed for the open meadow.  The does came first, followed closely by the buck.  I touched the trigger just as the buck cleared the edge of the trees.  He fell hard and staggered to regain his footing.  I shot twice more to put him down for good. 

The two bucks fell roughly 300 yards apart, and we estimated that they had been taken in about five minutes time.  After the excitement of the day’s events had receded, and after the bucks were caped and quartered, we put a tape on the antlers.  Dustin’s buck is a typical 4x5 including eyeguards, and is 21” wide and nearly as tall with a gross score of 163”.  My buck is a heavy typical 5x5 with exceptional eyeguards that measures 25 ½” wide and gross scores 184”.