A Coues Deer The Hard Way

 

Adversity is like a grindstone that sharpens the blade of one's character.  Often times hunting is a crucible of our resolve -- testing one's stamina, strength, and spirit.  There is no substitute for being refined by adversity; it is a hard earned prize and this was a hard earned deer.

We had made the three hour drive twice before the season to scout out the area that Caleb would be hunting.  Originally, Caleb had wanted to try his hand at hunting mule deer but was unsuccessful in the first draw.  When the second draw yielded the same results, he purchased a leftover Coues deer tag for a southern unit.  We were able to find plenty of deer in our scouting, but we were unable to turn up a single buck.  At the end of our last scouting trip we drove through another area on the western part of the range we were going to hunt and found some promising looking country.  We decided that this new area would be our starting point for the hunt.

Sunset in Southern Arizona

We left for the hunt late the night before opening day; I arrived at the campsite a little after Caleb and his brother-in-law, Alex.  It was 1:30 am.  5:30 am came much too quickly, but the deer wouldn't wait on our account so with tired eyes we hiked up to our vantage point to begin glassing.  I spotted two bucks, and when they moved over the ridge and out of sight we pursued them by swinging around the base of the hill they were on to try and relocate them.  As we were moving we bumped up two nice three points, and they also ran over the ridge away from us.  We worked quickly to try and flank them before they were gone for good.  As we came through a thick patch of ocotillo and catclaw, I picked up the back of deer on the opposite ridge, about two hundred yards away.  There was no opportunity for a shot because of the thick vegetation, so we had to back out and work up the back of the ridge on the opposite side of a draw from where the bucks were.  When we got to the top of the ridge we were directly across from the bucks, at a mere 130 yards away.  I was glassing off my elbows to remain  out of the buck's line of sight as much as possible.  I was able to pick out one of the bucks because his right antler was in the sun.  I could tell he had bedded but only his neck and head was visible.  He was staring right at us.  There was just enough vegetation at the top of the hill to block a prone shot so I belly crawled a few yards to try and set up a backpack for Caleb to shoot from.  Since  I was the only one who could see the bucks at that point I knew I would have to explain where they were to Caleb so that he could find them in his scope.  As I was checking for landmarks to aid Caleb in finding the bucks the deer suddenly stood up and they both looked right at me.  Screw it.  "Caleb, get up here now!"  Caleb scrambled to a spot adjacent myself as the bucks took to flight.  By the time he had them in the scope they were skylined and moving fast away.  If there's a sight I both love and loathe, its watching silhouetted antlers and white flags bounding over a ridge.  So close!  Sick with defeat we called it a morning and made our way back to camp to catch up on a little sleep.

Sonoran Coralsnake, Micruroides Euryxanthus... Venomous

After a diet coke and fill up on gas in the lovely art town of Arivaca, AZ, we made our way back to the hills.  I had found a spot that looked quite promising after spending a considerable amount of time studying aerial photography on google and the USGS quad maps of the area.  I had a strong feeling that the area would hold good bucks, and it was not terribly far from our original camp.  The road was awful.  When we found a good spot to park, I marveled that no one else was hunting the area.  It was a big bowl, with several steep rocky slopes.  They were mostly covered with prickly pear and grasses,  interspersed with mesquites, ocotillos, and oaks.  It looked amazing, and as we hiked to our vantage point to glass for the evening I was certain we would turn up a good buck.  As evening approached, we had yet to spot our first deer.  A decision was made to take the vehicle to the dead end and glass from a saddle into another area until last light.  When we got to the jeep we found a gnarly surprise: it wouldn't start.  Now stranded, we decided to hike the saddle and back through the canyon to our camp.  Not a terrible hike, maybe a little over a mile and a half as the crow flies, but very rough country and a sizable elevation gain and loss.  We dropped what we thought would be non essential items and went to hunt our way back to camp until it was too dark.

When we had crested the saddle I was amazed at the great country before us.  I scanned through it quickly with the binoculars and we moved onward.  After a few hundred yards of still hunting I noticed a whiteflag flare up and begin to bound away from us.  "Deer!" I threw up the binos and confirmed that it was a buck.  Immediately I ranged it - 217 yards.

Caleb dropped to one knee and shouldered his .270.  "Tell me when to shoot!"

"As soon as you can!"

The buck slowed.  "200 Yards!"

BOOM!  The rifle's report startled me, but the unmistakable sound of an impact rang back.  The buck's tail dropped but he continued to run several more yards.

"Hit him again!"

BOOM!  There was not the sound of an impact, but the buck stopped just beside a large mesquite.

"I lost him, where is he?"

"Hold on, I'm just gonna watch him in the binos, he's not moving."

I watch as the buck stands motionless by the mesquite, seconds dragging on like days, and then suddenly he disappears.

"I think he's down."

By this time its getting too dark to guide Caleb to where I last saw the deer, so I elect to have all of us walk directly towards where I last saw the deer.  I make certain of my landmarks and we beeline towards the tree.  As we approach I ask Caleb to make sure he has a round in the chamber and to be ready in case the buck gets up.  A few steps more and I see that another round is not necessary.  The buck is stone dead, with blood on its lips - a lung shot, quartered through, and a fantastic shot given the situation.  Overjoyed at our good fortune we share our exclamations and happiness and offer a prayer of thanks and blessing on the meat.  As Caleb held the buck for pictures he exclaimed how happy he was that we hadn't gotten the larger bucks in the morning because this one meant more.  I couldn't agree more.  It was a hard earned buck.

After the pictures I set to quarter the deer and asked for the game bags.

"I think I left them in the car when we unloaded the gear."

"Wonderful!"

We gutted the buck, and affixed it whole to my backpack.  We were closer to the car than to camp at this point, so we agreed to hike the deer back to the jeep and then hike back to camp with empty packs other than our water.  As we made our way off the mountain in the dark we started to notice the evidence of immigration through the area.  Backpacks, clothes, water bottles -- all the items that get discarded on the arduous trek into the United States.  It is always heartbreaking to see the shoes and clothes of women and children, knowing that families have to make this journey to find a better life.  There is also the eerie feeling of knowing that smugglers walk these same trails too.  After a long and uneventful hike back to camp we unloaded our packs and got into my truck to return back to the broken down jeep.  It had been dark for a few hours now, and I was starting to feel very tired.  I'm sure Caleb and Alex were beginning to feel it as well.

We make a few attempts at jump starting the car but quickly realize that the battery isn't the issue, and likely the starter had gone out, which pretty much exhausted our collective car repair knowledge.  We loaded up the extra gear into my truck as well as the deer.  An extremely long drive back to camp left us too tired to celebrate.  No dinner or beers, we set to the work of putting up a tent and getting the deer meat quartered and on ice.  I sent a text message to my wife to let her know we were safe as I climbed into the bed of my truck to sleep for the night.  It was 12:30 am.

This picture captures the essence of the whole hunt. 

The following morning we discuss the various options for retrieving the jeep.  It seemed a bit to rough to tow it out, and none of us were confident about fixing the starter on our own.  There was even talk of a desperate Plan B to abandon it in place.  We loaded up my truck with all of our gear and left for the Phoenix valley.  We stopped in Green Valley to get gas and breakfast when I had the bright idea to call my dad and get some advice.  He recommended replacing the started and walked me through the process of replacing it, which was really pretty simple.   I discussed it with Caleb and Alex and we decided to "man up" and go fix the jeep ourselves.  Fortunately the local auto shop had a starter in stock, so we returned to the mountain to retrieve the jeep.  I'm sure the Border Patrol check point had a good laugh at us coming back through so soon after we had left.

We got to the jeep, replaced the starter, which really was pretty simple after all, jimmy-rigged a bypass cable from the battery to the starter relay and the jeep fired up!  That was probably the highlight of the trip, second only to watching Caleb lay out a buck at 230 yards from a kneeling position.  He's becoming a very good marksman, and a very good hunter.  This hunt was a big success for all of us, it was physically demanding, but also mentally taxing knowing that we had to leave a vehicle overnight with the possibility of not recovering it.  Adversity comes, oftentimes unexpected, but in the end the reward is something that can be earned no other way.  This was a successful Coues deer hunt, and we had earned it the hard way.

Caleb, Alex, and Myself