king' s outdoor world - Index

king' s outdoor world - Best of 2007 Feb-March 2008 - Index

66
Kyle Lopez, at just 14-years old, holds the rack to the the amazing
non-typical mule deer that he took in 2007 hunting with his father
last saw the buck. There was my
uncle, smiling and holding his hand
up for a high fi ve. The great buck
was lying on the ground, a 7x7 giant.
We got him dressed out and went
home for the night. My uncle was
absolutely thrilled; this was a great
deer. The excitement in the pickup
on the way home made a perfect
ending to a great fi rst day.
Later that night, my dad
put a tape on the buck and came up
with a 194-inch green score. This
was truly a great deer for my uncle’s
fi rst.
The next morning my dad
and I got up a little late. The Division
of Wildlife had the sunrise and
sunset chart off by an hour because
of the time change. They were also
a day off. But, that was just a minor
setback - we had the entire day to
hunt. So, we headed out and were
back at it again. We still wanted
to save Dad’s “honey hole,” so we
went to a different area and hiked in.
We snuck around there for three or
four hours looking at sign, glassing,
and trying to locate bucks. But, as
luck would have it, nothing turned
up. Again, for a second day the
temperature began to heat up rapidly
so we went home for lunch.
HUNTING ILLUSTRATED.com
When we returned that
afternoon, my two little brothers went
with us. Dad had decided to hike back
into the “honey hole.” Finally! Dad
parked the truck, we gathered up our gear
and we were off. We crossed the creek
and hiked into the mouth of a drainage.
As we entered the drainage, we stopped
to take a break. Here, Dad gave his
instructions on how we were to hunt the
“honey hole.” He decided to climb up a
small ridge to our right to peek over into
the next drainage where he had watched
the bucks go all summer. We started up
the small ridge, trying to step quietly
over the loose gravel under our feet. We
carefully stepped over the burnt timber
that littered the hillside and were a few
steps behind Dad as he reached the top
of the ridge fi rst. Dad barely peeked
over the ridge when he froze for a
moment and excitedly motioned for me
to come quickly. There he was, a nice
30+ inch buck. The buck immediately
took off, straight away from us and up
the other side of the drainage. Dad and
I tried to slow him down by whistling,
but he did not stop. As he slowed to cut
across the hillside, there was an opening
and I took a shot. The shot sailed about
six inches above his back. I chambered
another shell in my gun and took a hard
shot at the running buck. This shot was
nowhere close to the buck. And that
was it, he was gone.
As we stood there on the
ridge, I was trying to gather my
composure. I thought back to my
shot placements. I was feeling
frustrated as this might have been my
only opportunity at a great buck and
I had missed. Dad quickly started
down into the drainage and up the
other side to where the buck was
when I took my fi rst shot. He found
the tracks of the big buck and began
searching the area for any signs
that I might have gotten lucky. As
we trailed the buck, we did not fi nd
any signs that he had been hit. We
crossed several drainages and, as we
hit the last hillside, the buck’s tracks
ran into some elk tracks and became
diffi cult to follow. Dad was certain
that the buck was not hit and, with
light fading, we knew there was no
catching up to him. We turned around
and followed our path out. With each
footstep the disappointment began
to overtake the excitement of the
evening. I was feeling down as the
second day of the hunt came to an
end. I knew that this would be my
last full day to hunt as the weekend
was over. I had to return to school
and now my hunts would be limited
to evenings after school if my dad’s
work schedule allowed it. As we
were driving home the truck was
quiet. Dad spoke up and explained
to me that it’s very common to step
on big mule deer bucks. Dad said
that the shots that I had taken were
rushed and very diffi cult even for
an experienced hunter. He said, “He
would rather have a dime for every
one that he missed than a dollar for
every one that he had hit because he
would be a rich man.” I understood
that my dad was trying to ease my
frustration and help me to forget the
events of the evening’s hunt, but I
knew that this buck would haunt my
dreams tonight.
The next morning I got
up and went to school still feeling
frustrated and thinking about the
buck that I had missed. I was not