matt burke

Best Unsuccessful Hunt Bow hunting is said to be challenging. This in-your-face action is what I like. Unfortunately, sometimes we get outdone by our quarry. Taking the advice of a successful archer I headed to a location in the Tucson Mountains. After the first several days of finding only doe’s, I headed in another direction. After thinking on it for a while I decided to head back. With the pre-rut getting started I figured there may be some bucks in the area. I researched some off the trail areas via Google Earth and headed into the field. After a short climb I set up and immediately saw a nice buck. He was chasing a doe. He finally bedded down about 0900hrs. I slowly and methodically headed his direction, being sure not to spook the doe’s which were bedded above and below him. When I got within 100 yards a doe popped out below me about 60 yards away. I hung tight against the ridge and watched as four other doe’s worked their way past me. I knew it was only a matter of time before the buck would follow. As I watched this open area, I heard him moving. I glanced over to see him going towards the doe’s, but heading the other direction. I watched them bed down in the wash as I hung tight to the ridge for almost 3 hours. I knew if I moved forward or back they would see me. I didn’t have a choice, so I decided to back out; thinking I would come back a different day. As soon as I began backing out they got up and headed up the ridge. I saw an opening to cut them off, but it’d be a tough hike. It’s now or never to Cowboy Up! With the wind in my favor I maneuvered around to position myself in their path. I closed to within 90 yards when I ran out of cover. I thought about taking the shot, but ethics got the best of me. I figured they keep heading the direction and I’d get a cleaner shot. Instinctly, they headed the other direction. I watched as he bedded down a third time around 1500hrs. Instead of waiting I figured I would try a different approach from below him. I didn’t realize my route took me through a rock slide until I was in the thick of it. One wrong hand placement and a man-size boulder gave way. I looked up at the buck in discuss as he jumped and ran out of sight. I kicked myself all the way back to the truck. Wow, what a chess match! I can’t believe I got my butt handed to me by this big ol' buck. I’ll be back… Returning three days later with a different approach in mind (southern style ambush); I almost chose to sit on a shelf in the lower area of the ridge. However, the wind direction led me to choose a higher location opposite their “trail”. The morning brought 5 doe’s out of their bed right below me. When they headed around the mountain away from me, I thought my hunt was over. I figured that I had hiked all this way; I’ll at least stay until 1100hours. At 1000hours I began hearing footsteps on the hill directly in front of me. I couldn’t see anything though. I continued to watch the area until a large bodied deer formed in front of my eyes. It didn’t take long for me to verify it was him and he’s heading directly towards me. I began thanking God for a second chance at this marvelous buck and trying to calm my nerves. It was finally going to happen. When he got within 100 yards from me at the wash he hung out munching on the trees. I thought about sneaking forward, but the terrain would have given away my position. There were two routes for him to take to get to his bedding ground…make that three. He took a sharp left and headed right past the spot I was going to sit. With a sick feeling of helplessness I began trying to close the distance. Every time I would move he would stop. I didn’t make it very far when I decided to get back to my pack and try calling him in. I blew on the bleat a couple times but couldn’t turn him. I grunted and rattled, but he’d cleared the ridge at this point. I thought he may come back around, but he never showed. I headed up toward where I thought he had bedded down, but after an hour of slow stalking the ridgeline bedding area, he was nowhere to be found. AGAIN, I had a long painful walk back to the truck. Beat a second time; some hunter I am! I’d like to clear up the point of bow hunting be challenging: IT’S JUST PLAIN DIFFICULT IN AZ!!!

My kid and wife have cow tags for 17, 18, and 19. We spent a week in the field south of YOLO and put over 400 miles running the hills looking for them. Hours of glassing, stalk hunting the easy terrain, and driving around left us empty handed. I finally found one the last evening, but unable to get to her. Anyone have suggestions for this area? We're heading back on the 7th and 8th of Dec. I sure would like to take at least one...those homeless folks need some protien. If you need a place to donate some meat, Casa Maria Soup Kitchen in Tucson feeds the homeless. . . that's where I donate whenever we harvest.

We're game to hunt absolutely anything, anytime, anywhere that the budget will allow. I find absolute freedom from the spiritual bondages of war when I'm in the outdoors.

Anyone hunting cow's near YOLO or ORO ranch? We spent a week up there, only found one, but I was unable to get to her?

Keep it rockin' Coues Queen

I totally agree, SCI and AZGFD know how to get it going. I was a little skeptic at first because it felt like folks were being secretive. Fortunately, it was in my head (I have crowd issue's from PTSD). Luckily a dedicated SCI member (USMC vet) picked enough info from me to realize I needed help. After Bobby hooked us up with Jimmy and Shawn...then left us all in the dark (smiling) we headed towards a new location that our guides had never hunted before, but their experienced prevailed and my daughter took this nice 3x4 Coues as her 1st big game.

Here's the story retold from Jasmine: My second day at deer camp we headed out without guides. We spent the whole, long, boring day hunting and saw a couple of doe, and a buck. We chased the buck but we lost it… That night after a delicious dinner and desert my dad asked if we could have a couple of guides. Though we know how to hunt, my dad is unable to access the good hunting spots due to his injuries. The next morning we hooked up with our two guides, Shawn and Jimmy. We drove up to a spot that could overlook beautiful rolling hills; we arrived just as the sun was peeking over the mountains. We got out of our trucks and set up, I figured I’d spend about ten minutes glassing then go get my breakfast from the truck. As I settled down my attention began to wonder and I started to drift from reality, day dreaming. Suddenly I was dragged back to reality when like five minutes after we started glassing I heard Jimmy, calmly, and confidently, say “Hey! There’s a deer!” In a range of about five minutes he picked up a couple of other deer. As I vainly attempted to search for these majestic animals, they started glassing a hill about 100 yards from us. Then an excited voice cut through my concentration, “There’s a Buck! With a huge rack!” I heard Jimmy exclaim. I jumped up and he threw his gun at me, we were in kill mode now. We raced down the hill, I spotted Border patrol parked under the hill, and suddenly felt the doubt starting to creep in. We hopped a fence and came up to a tree and Jimmy broke some twigs off so I could have a perch. But the tree limb was very thin, the weight of the gun caused it to sway, knowing this was not a safe shot I told them that I was not going to take the shot. He agreed and the deer disappeared over the other side of the hill. That’s when we decided to pursue them. As we drove to the hill we passed the border patrol, they apologized for messing up my shot, my dad called them PETA’S! We drove up in a wash then started a hike to a small hill were I could have a good shot on the bucks that had topped the hill. That’s when we spotted my buck! A young 7 pointer. We set up the gun and Adrenalin pulsed through me as I found its chest in my scope. My breath quickened, and I slowly exhaled and squeezed the trigger, I missed and the buck just kind of did one of those, what was that, look around. My next shot I clipped its horn. (that was my 500 yard shot)I let out a frustrated breath. And was about to start screaming when Shawn decided to try a different angle on the deer, we slunk around and that’s when I got my shot, (425 yards) and…I shot it! Right in its middles!!!!! Though we were pretty sure it was dead, they made me shoot it twice more before we could get close. I scaled the hill, while the adults followed more…err… slowly. We stopped twenty feet from it and saw its head was still raised. WHAT IN THE WORLD?!?!?? I wanted to scream, I was saved from having to take another shot when Jimmy threw a rock at it. It was Dead, and it’s head was being propped up by a stick! WOW! Turns out, my first shot was a lung shot, both of them! And my second went through the exit wound and came out the top of its back. We never recovered the horn that I had shot off, but I didn’t need it, I knew and that’s all that mattered.

Shawn and Jimmy stepped up at the AZFG/SCI Youth Hunt this weekend to help my daughter (Jasmine) harvest her first deer. Due to my injuries I've been unable to get to the deer, much less haul it out. This killer duo made it happen, even in unfamiliar territory. My hat is off to you two gentlemen.