I‘ve learned a lot about hunting and persistence from my buddy “bearman” and since his move to Montana, he has developed to become one of the most successful hunters I know. The guy puts in serious time and loves to walk miles in search of untouched hunting grounds. This past Sunday to Tuesday was his greatest hunting accomplishments to date. Please enjoy Bearman’s awesome recount of his first Mule deer.
“It was a late start to the morning following a strenuous death march the previous day in search of elk. With high hopes I traveled from my home in Darby down the Bitterroot Valley to meet up with long time hunting buddy Mike Kaplan to cover some new country. For me, today’s mission was to find a mule deer buck in the high country for the area which I had drawn a permit for. Deer numbers in this area are low, so to see any is a success in itself, but for us the thrill of new adventures keeps us hiking on. At mid-morning on an overcast 55 degree calm day we found ourselves hiking higher and higher through steep rock, burn, and timber. Several miles and several hours into our hunt we came over a ridge to find nine mule deer does feeding across the opposite hillside about 200 yards out; but no bucks to be found. After watching them for a while, we let them feed over the next ridge before making our next move. A short trek later we were on top of some radical rock formations overlooking the same group of deer in the next draw over. With the afternoon slowly ticking away, and near to our estimated turn around location, Mike decided it was time to head back to the truck. At that point my genetically adventurous spirit took over and told me to look over just one more ridge. Many times this voice leads me to that ridge or hill, and then another, and another, and another, with an end result of nothing but an exhausted Max; but not today. Today Mike split back towards the truck as I went one more ridge over. As I crept out of a heavily timbered gully into a decade old burn and there caught the glimpse of two mule deer butts gently easing over the horizon line 300 yards in front of me. With anticipation high, my legs and lungs carried me quickly through deadfall and standing tree skeletons uphill in the direction that the deer were moving. Breathing heavy and soaked with sweat I approached a giant boulder at the edge of a sharp drop off. Many hours in the field had me prepared to be ready at an instance upon reaching the edge, so with my Remington 7mm-.08 at the ready and pack unstrapped, I peered over the edge of the large boulder. Immediately I could see ears and eyes focused on me at me 80 yards straight ahead, along with a clearly visible antler! I had one shooting lane about four feet wide with his head, neck, and most of his front shoulder visible. Although I prefer to sneak a bullet in behind the shoulder as to not waste valuable meat, at this moment I knew I had no other options. Lying down with the rifle now steadied on a large rock, my crosshairs settled on the deer’s shoulder. A split second later my ears were ringing from the shot, the empty casing was rolling down through the rocks, and the buck I had just shot at turned into two muley bucks bounding off through the burn and headed deeper into a hell hole of a canyon below.
Not knowing which buck I had shot at, or being presented another shot at the deer, I watch one bound over the hill on the horizon as the other bailed off left and crashed out of sight. Heart pounding I headed to where the deer were standing when I took the shot. No blood, no hair, and an uneasy feeling setting in, I began to walk downhill where I had heard the one deer crash through the deadfall. Within moments, my worries were turned to feelings of joy when I saw the fur on his large body piled up against a tree. My first mule deer buck had only run 40 yards with a well-placed 139 grain Hornady to the boiler maker. I quickly used my one bar of cell service to call Mike and utilize his concrete crew strength to help me with the pack out. A few hours later we were loading the buck in the truck and soaking up the memories from anther great adventure. It is not the kill itself but the hard work, beautiful country, adventure, time with old friends, lean meat, and memories that last forever that keep true hunters like us headed to the mountains year after year.”
-Bearman
Thanks for your awesome recount of this great hunt Bearman. Folks, be sure to check out Green Lake Chronicles tomorrow for part of of the Montana Success Story! Thanks for reading and be sure to check out our Facebook and Instagram pages for great pictures.
-Michael
Green Lake Chronicles 