We drove around and eventually found my phone on the trails.
Afternoon 6:
Being the last day, we decided to slam some energy drinks and push through every bedding area we knew of.
First we started with the north meadow. My dad went up above and set up in the escape route and I worked through all of the bedding areas. We saw nothing besides a few does.
As we hunted the north meadow, we could see a huge storm approaching from the west.
Next, we headed back to the main valley. As we approached the hill with all of the bedding, we saw two does and a forkhorn up on the hill by the clump of bushes that I missed the huge buck in. The forkhorn was on the neighbors and the two does jumped onto our property. They started working back towards the neighbors so we gave up and busted them to get back to the game plan.
I went up and over the hill to the far side of the cliff to set up on the escape route. My dad walked around the right side of the hill and started slowly moving through all of the bedding.
After 15 minutes of waiting, I got a garbled radio from him, “Shot...fork horn...bush... no blood... gonna keep looking.”
I heard some crashing and thought deer were coming, but nothing showed.
As I sat there, the storm clouds started coming over the cliff. Lightning flashed brighter and brighter and huge gusts of wind ripped in every direction.
He eventually radioed again and said he was going to head down into the valley and couldn’t find any blood. I said okay, wait up and I’ll join you. I’m not planning on getting electrocuted today.
I pushed through locusts tearing at my camo and came around the cliff edge. I saw him 120 yards away in the meadow gesturing frantically to up on the hillside. The fork horn was up there! Game on!
The cliff was to my right, concealing my movements. Where the deer were is where the cliff breaks into a steep bowl that they can get up and down. I had to walk through dried thistles, thorns and brush to get there. I pride myself on stealth, but this was impossible.
I said fugg it I’ll just be a cow and blasted through it quickly until I was close to where I could peak around.
To my left was their favorite clump of trees, a 15 yard diameter cluster completely cleared to dirt beneath with beds. It is surrounded by locusts and thorns and has a clear view up the hill for danger.
As I stepped in front of those trees, I saw a doe and a fork horn up on the hill above me.
The fork was down and to the left of where the doe was in the picture. I tried to find some semi stable footing in the loose rock and ranged him. The range finder cooperated, 51 yards. I drew back and could not get stable. I shuffled my feet and aimed back up at him. I thought, “holy shit I need to practice uphill shots more.”
I settled on just above his heart and let it fly. It hit about 6 inches back from that in the back of his lungs with some guts. Shit. He took three steps forward and turned towards me.
He was quartering hard towards me and obviously wasn’t going to budge. I nocked another arrow with a two blade kudu that I knew could punch through the chest.
I drew back steady and once again got very unstable. Standing on a steep slope aiming uphill is not something I trained for. I got it steady and let it fly. It hit just to the left of his sternum in front of his shoulder and went up through the vitals. He ran three yards and turned broadside and I took my third arrow and shot again. I think it went into the lungs but couldn’t tell where it hit exactly.
He ran up on top of the hill where I couldn’t see and fell over. My dad radioed and told me his head was still up. I was out of arrows and asked him to run up and hit him again. Both of us firmly believe in shoot until their dead.
He busted through the trees and got up onto the hill. The buck was 20 yards from him. With the doe still watching, he nocked an arrow and drew back.
He shot through the grass and the arrow slipped off of a hidden rock and broke the bucks front leg. The buck stumbled up and he put an arrow straight through the vitals. The buck died in seconds.
We had both just emptied our quivers on a fork horn. That about sums up how this season has been [emoji23]. I will be adding uphill shots into my training.
At this point, rain is starting to come down and lightning is getting very close. We were up on the highest point on the entire mesa.
My dad suggested we skirt around the steep side and hike back to the ATV to avoid going up to the very top of the hill. I said, “No, we should just go over the top, that hill is rocky and treacherous.” He insisted that he did not want to go over the top.
50 yards across the hill he crashed behind me. I turned around in time to see his head smash into the rocks and his bow fly through the air.
I ran back to help and he sat up slowly into a rock. He stared at his arms and legs trying to figure out what hurt and what didn’t. I’ll spare you the picture, but the end of his pinkie was almost completely broken off and pointing in a completely different direction. It was open down to the bone. He had a gash on the side of his head as well.
I took his bow and ran both bows back to the ATV through pelting rain and drove back to get him. He insisted on grabbing the deer before getting him back to the cabin to head into the ER.
I drove the ATV up and over the hill top, pouring rain and lightning all around us. I dragged the deer over, picked it up and threw it in the back.
He was able to hold his bow the whole way back in rocky terrain. This man is the toughest old fugger I’ve ever met. He told me to get it and skin it and get everything in order. I helped him change and wash off his face paint and he drove himself in to the ER.
My uncle runs the ER but had just flown out of town. He told us that the worst doctor they had was on duty. My dad is a veterinary surgeon, and the whole time she was cleaning and stitching his finger she was asking for his instructions. Her splint was so sideways we had to redo it to get blood flow to his finger.
Before
After
This has been one hell of a season. Just got back from a few more days alone in the wilderness.