By: Bears Butt

In Utah there is what is called, “The Extended Wasatch Archery Hunt”, which in essence is a very large area encompassing mostly cities along the Wasatch Front, basically from the summit of the front, down to Interstate 15 and roughly from Springville on the South to Brigham City on the North. You can see the map by viewing the DWR site at:https://wildlife.utah.gov/hunting/hunting-regulation.html if you are interested.

Anyway, we have a small acreage of farm that is included in this area that we can hunt. It’s all private and like a private reserve just for us. There aren’t a lot of deer that inhabit or use the farm, but it only takes one, right?

Weasel has placed two trail cameras on the place and captured three buck deer using it. So, we have spent the last three nights haunting that area, hoping for a shot. The deer live in a wetland area that contains a very thick, dense stand of cattails, willows, wild plums and cottonwood trees.

He likes to set up his blind on one end of a grove of cottonwoods, while I chose the other end. His on the North, mine the South.

We each sit on three legged stools during our sits and we hunt toward the end of the day, expecting just a brief timeframe when the bucks (deer) might appear, and that is oftentimes just before the end of legal shooting light (1/2 hour after sunset).

Our first two nights sitting there were pretty much uneventful, hardly any bird sounds and with the sound of the traffic on the Interstate, it’s hard to hear much of anything else. With my hearing aids I get a mix of garblygoop and wind noises. So I’m pretty much useless in the sound business and am almost strictly stuck to visual or nothing. While Weasel can often hear subtle cracks, snorts and assorted other deer noises going on around us.

Last night the sun had dipped behind the Promontory mountains and the air was cooling down quickly.

I had not heard or seen anything when suddenly out of the corner of my left eye I spotted movement. I turned my head slowly in the direction and there stood a nice 3X3 buck, his head was down and he was feeding in my direction. There was a smaller 2 point buck standing a bit farther out into the meadow as well, I slowly reached with my left hand for my recurve bow, which was propped against a tree ahead and slightly to my left. Feeling the grip in the riser, I lightly took hold of it and then reached with my right hand and placed my tabbed fingers on the string, just under the nocked arrow. I pulled the whole bow toward me as I sat there watching the unbelievable happening before my eyes. The buck was feeding toward me at quite a quick rate. I first spotted him about 15 yards away, by the time I had the bow in my hand he was less than 10 yards away and closing fast. I had picked my position in the trees as I thought any deer coming out would go out into the meadow but not down the tree line toward me. I was helpless where I was to take any kind of a shot. He kept coming, feeding and walking, feeding and walking. With my head turned to my left as far as I could turn it and my eyes cranked as far left as possible, the deer stopped. He was directly behind me about 5 feet away.

He must not have caught my scent, as he bolted away and out into the meadow (where he should have been in the first place), but it wasn’t a bolt as if he was scared, more like “I don’t like being here and that bush wasn’t there yesterday, I best move out a bit”. He stopped briefly about 30 yards out and then began to follow the tree line in front of my position and heading towards where Weasel was hid up. He didn’t go to far before the wind, which was at my back, brought my scent to him and he stopped his forward progression and he turned and ran back to the south and out into the meadow.

The smaller buck followed him a short distance, not knowing what the bigger buck knew. Suddenly, I saw both of these bucks turn their full attention toward the main entry gate to the farm. I looked over to see what it might be that had their attention (last year it was two trespassers who were climbing over the gate). I saw a third buck standing in the road by the gates! WOW! 3 bucks! While they were watching buck number 3, I had time to range the distances to the two bucks standing in the meadow. The biggest I call “Basket head”, because the 3 points on each side come nearly together above his head forming almost a complete circle of antlers, the smaller one is little guy and the third is a nice sized 2 point. So Basket head is ranged at 40 yards, twice the distance I’ve been practicing at all year while Little guy is 26 yards….just 6 yards outside my practice distance. Believe me those 6 yards don’t look that much farther than the 20 yards I had been practicing at and it was a struggle to keep myself under control and not to take the shot.

I wish now, I had tried it. Tonight at practice I will try a 26 yard shot just to see whether I can hit the target or not. During my dreams last night I killed that buck 50 or more times.

Well, the story doesn’t end there. It didn’t take long before the two bucks in the meadow decided they had had enough and took off on a dead run for the neighbors fence and down toward the railroad tracks.

My focus turned to the one by the main gate. He moved over to next to the tree line and began coming toward me, following the trees. My mind raced again….will I get a chance at him before it’s past shooting hours? Time was running out. I could still see very well, and I didn’t have time to look at my watch to see what time it was. I just knew I had to get into a position for a shot, should he suddenly appear where I first saw Basket head. I moved out away from the trees that hid my position, and standing in my usual fashion and at the ready to draw, aim and fire. I waited and waited. It was beginning to get dark quickly and still no sign of the buck. Maybe he ducked into the swamp, maybe he is still coming but is slow about it. I looked West and out in the meadow stood Weasel, waiting for me to leave my blind and walk with him to the truck. Again, I struggled with leaving where I was, knowing that the buck could show up at any second and Weasel didn’t have a clue as to what had been going on the last half hour. Reluctantly, I gave into the fact that even if the buck came around the corner it would see Weasel standing there and would bolt out into the meadow and I’d not get a shot anyway. So I picked up my stuff and walked out to join him. Weasel pointed at the buck as I walked up to him, it had seen him and ran out into the meadow. We watched as it ran here and there not knowing where it should go and then it ran in the same direction as the other two bucks.

That’s hunting! And that’s why we do it. It’s not necessarily the kill, it’s all the events leading up to the “chance for a shot”. All the practice, all the planning, all the trials and errors along the way. The comradery, preparation, stories etc. etc. etc. I love it!

Bears Butt

Sept. 17, 2020

Written on September 17th, 2020 , Hunting Stories, Uncategorized

BearsButt.com | Stories, Ramblings & Random Stuff From an Old Mountain Man is proudly powered by WordPress and the Theme Adventure by Eric Schwarz
Entries (RSS) and Comments (RSS).

BearsButt.com | Stories, Ramblings & Random Stuff From an Old Mountain Man

Just some of my old stories, new stories, and in general what is going on in my life.