Join Team Sarcasm!
Stay caught up with what's new at JoeHumor.com
Get extra benefits, product news, and access to exclusive content as well.
*New Design*
See all designs available now at: TeamSarcasmTshirts.com
Other Popular Team Sarcasm Designs
Join Team Sarcasm and follow Joe Humor on: MySpace Facebook Twitter Yahoo Groups
Like what you read? Contribute to the sarcastic cause!
The Fat Blob Incident
Includes 20 Full Length Feature Articles plus Bonus Bits and Short Jokes
Available Free ONLY to Team Sarcasm Members
Home > HuntSpot > Deer Hunt 2010
Quick Links
Deer Hunt 2010: page 1 page 2 photo set Elk Hunt 2010 How To Shoot...
Featured Hunting Article: Down and Above: The Key To Big Game Hunting Success
HuntSpot Journal: One Seriously "Doggy" Day HuntSpot Pics and Vids: My Mountains
My camp on Muldoon Creek and my hard earned prize.
See Scorpion Mountain and Muldoon Creek on Google Earth at: 43° 37.355'N 113° 53.718'W
(this puts you near the top of Scorpion Mountain with Muldoon Creek to the east)
Deer Hunt 2010: How's That For A Doe?
It's a long climb to the top of Muldoon Ridge, a shoulder of the 10,500 ft. high Scorpion Mountain, but one that is always worth undertaking. While I had taken deer on the mountain before, I had yet to nail one this high up. Yet still, I'd always believed it was this high ridge and the thick pine bowl to the northwest that held the biggest bucks.
My hunting buddy (H.B.) had taken two bucks in consecutive years from a steep, fairly open bowl on the southwest side of the forked ridge, literally shooting from the exact same position both times --- and literally whining like a mule at having to climb that far up the mountain both times as well.
That second year, as he stood recounting the two hundred yard running shot he had made on the first buck the year before, I looked down to see another buck stand up from his bed behind a tree.
"Well, here's your chance to do it again," I said as I pointed out the buck. H.B. then proceeded to top his first year shot with an amazing quartering away shot at over three hundred yards that dropped the buck to the ground in mid-step.
It was on that very bowl I sat again, taking a break from the climb, checking each and every clump of trees for game, and thinking back at all that had happened already in what was turning out to be an incredible hunting season for me.
Planning for my 2010 deer hunt started back in July when I learned I had drawn a tag to hunt for bull elk on Scorpion Mountain. It was then I decided to make deer hunting for the year a simple affair so I wouldn't be trying to find a buck at the same time I was chasing after my bull.
Well, if you're not already laughing at the idea of deer hunting being a "simple affair", go ahead and start because I'm here to tell you, there is no such thing.
I started the year off looking for an antlerless deer in an early season muzzleloader hunt up on the Boise River while on one of my gold digging trips. Naturally, after years of hunting for bucks and seeing nothing but does day after day, I assumed getting one to be a done deal before I even started looking. And, just as naturally, I didn't see a single deer for nearly two days.
It had been hot, and everything seemed to be bedded up hard and not willing to come out of hiding for anything --- especially somebody who wanted to shoot at them. Finally, just before dark on the second day of our black powder hunt, while driving back to camp for the night, H.B. and I found a group of antlerless deer by a hot spring pool.
They were just off the road, just out of a campground, just off of private property, not far from town, and it was right before dark. Well, H.B. nailed one, and he was perfectly legal in doing so, but I simply didn't like the situation. That's just not deer hunting to me. He was happy with his Bambi as he'd never gotten one with his muzzleloader before, and that's fine. As for me, I prefer to be up on the high ridges and peaks, off in the remote woods or deserts, out where nobody else goes, not worrying about legal lines, other people being around, or roads. So even though a big doe presented itself to me for a shot, I passed.
Later, however, I started to get discouraged. I'd spent three days on that muzzleloader hunt with nothing to show for it. I'd also hunted bucks one day in the same area, after the muzzleloader hunt ended and the general season opened, to no success. Of course, since I had switched from hunting does to seeking a buck, I saw something like 22 does, but hey, who's counting?
Now, however, I had three days to spend toiling around Scorpion Mountain and Muldoon Creek, my home turf as far as hunting goes, looking for both a buck and a bull elk. I hadn't wanted to end up hunting both at the same time, like I mentioned before, but it did provide for some exhilarating moments.
Muldoon Ridge Buck and Bull Hunt
The first day of my hunt, I did what I always do in all my "first day of the hunt" excitement. I spent all day hanging off of a cliff. You see, I hunt with the attitude of going where nobody else goes, taking it further, higher, and steeper than others, attempting to find the biggest of bucks and bulls in the most remote, nasty, and rocky regions of the mountain. Like this:
But, guess what? You know those steep, nasty, rocky and remote regions of the mountain I mentioned? Well, there's nothing up there but steep, nasty, rocky and remote regions. Nothing lives up there. Oh sure, there's occasional tracks. Once in a while I even find where some lone buck hid out for a time, but deer, and especially elk, don't usually go into these areas. They only go there when pushed. And guess what? They don't get pushed up there when I go trudging straight for the rocky and remote regions first thing on opening day! Instead, I pass right by them and they spend all day walking around 300 yards off the creek bed where they get shot by elderly women with arthritis who are patiently sitting on the steps of their camp trailers.
Yes, this happens on Muldoon Creek, thanks in part to me trudging the high and nasty, pushing the deer downhill and distracting them from the campers below as they watch uphill, undoubtedly laughing their antlers off at "that stupid human hanging off the cliff up there".
Anyway, after having wasted my first day rock climbing, the second day of my hunt was incredible. H.B., who also had a bull elk tag, showed up to hunt with me and so together we hunted up Muldoon Ridge, reaching the top somewhere around mid-morning. We'd have been up there earlier, but there had been grouse all over that morning, and I simply cannot pass up the opportunity to chase after them with my .22 pistol whenever possible.
Upon reaching the top, H.B. and I split up to circle one of the peaks to check for elk. They often bed in a saddle just north of that peak and we wanted to come at it from both sides. I didn't see anything as I circled around, but as I met up with H.B., he waved at me excitedly.
"I just saw a huge buck!" he reported. He'd already shot a Bambi with his muzzleloader on our other hunt, remember, so it was up to me to pursue the big buck he'd seen. As he led the way along the ridge in the direction it had traveled, all the discouragement I'd felt before simply melted away. Here I was, on my favorite ridge, where all my instincts told me the big boys hang out, and a big buck was definitely in the area.
We split up, H.B. heading down below where he thought the buck had gone and me staying higher on the ridge, hoping to spot the buck from above and remain in good position for a shot. After twenty minutes or so, however, I began to think the buck must have totally left the area. H.B. was far enough below me now that I could no longer see him, and I was approaching the steep, nasty, rocky, and remote regions once again.
"No more rock climbing," I told myself. However, there was that dream I'd had about this very place. In the dream, I went just a bit further into the rocky nasty, further than anyone else would even think of going, and there I had found a group of huge bucks.
"Of course, it was that kind of dreaming that led me to hanging off of cliffs yesterday," I reminded myself. I was thinking then that perhaps I should just sit and wait, watching the area, until H.B. came back up to find me, when suddenly I heard a shower of rock falling from the steep and nasty I had just been dreaming about.
I looked up to see the butt end of an large buck climbing the steep, nasty, rocky and remote region before me.
"See!" I screamed inwardly. "I told you they go up there!"
"Well, yes, when you push them into it, moron," I chided back.
"Whatever. That's a good buck. Shut up and get after him!" I concluded.
The buck, roughly 300 yards away, had disappeared into the rocky nasty, but there really was only a couple of places he could go, and if I hurried back to the top of the ridge, I'd be able to see both of them.
Throwing down the backpack I'd been carrying, I chugged my way up the two hundred yards or so to the backbone of the ridge and scurried along toward where I'd last seen the buck. Now, when I say "chugged", I mean it. You simply don't "run" up this stuff. It's too steep. Chugging, including some serious huffing and puffing, trying to keep the oxygen flowing, is a much better term, trust me.
As I reached the cliff top the buck had climbed out of, I looked around, seeking any sign of movement in the pocket just over the ridge. Of course, I thought, this side of the main ridge is pure rock from here out. Most likely, he crossed over toward the big, tree filled bowl to the northwest. It was still fairly open and rocky this high up, even on that side, however, so if he did, I still may have time to locate him and get a shot before he dropped down into the trees.
Chugging a bit further up the backbone of the ridge, I stopped to check the steep, rocky side one more time before topping over to look down into the tree lined bowl.
It was then I heard the elk bugle.
Email a link to "Deer Hunt 2010: How's That For A Doe?" to a friend.
