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My first AZ Coues adventure

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I havent been on here in a while, just the way it is I guess but I constantly think about my first Coues hunt in AZ last December. It was great and very addictive. Once again I would like to thank every single person that assisted me with this hunt, you guys are truly an amazing group of hunters. Thank you!

 

Now for my hunt recap/photo essay, its rather long and was written over the course of a couple days. The following post(s)/pictures from a write up I did for some friends on my local state hunting forum. Most have never hunted outside of TN so I went into a little more detail about it than most of you would,none the less here it is. *Poser is a hunting buddy of mine that tagged along.

 

What an adventure! Hunting mountain Coues deer in the desert of Arizona is something everyone should experience, but be warned that you will no longer find thrill in hunting hardwoods whitetails.

I do not have much time to write up a detailed post, my 2 year old little girl (a.k.a little dictator) has limited my "goof off" time.
So to the point....

After a couple years applying for a Arizona coues deer tag I struck gold, with 12% draw odds I drew a limited quota late season rifle Coues deer tag, Dec 12-31. These deer rut in Jan but the Dec tag is as close to a rifle rut hunt as you can get. Hundreds of thousands of acres of public land and only 150 hunters, plus good trophy potential makes this a great tag. One that usually takes closer to 10 years to draw, lucky me!

Day 1: We camped at the truck on hiked in early on opening morning. Close to 2,000 elevation gain and full packs made for a demanding first morning. A couple hours into the hike we spotted our first buck. He was young, we passed him and continued on. After a couple miles in we were just inside the timber line, found a nice flat spot with cover and sat up camp then settled in on a nice glassing point.
AZ is big open country and requires glassing, glassing some more, good optics, tripod, patience, and lots of glassing. No deer were turned up that evening, time for dinner and sleep.

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Day 2: Not what you exactly expect to wake up to in the desert, snow! Quite a bit of it too! Perfect, so we thought. It should make these grey ghost of the desert popped out.

Here is our camp after the first snow fall

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Poser glassing into the snow covered mountains

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Ocotillo cactus snow covered, not what you think of when your hunting the desert

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After striking out that morning of the snow we decided to pack up and head down the mountain. Part of me didn't want to wait for the snow to melt and be stuck on our side of the creek and the other part of me didn't "feel" it for this spot. I have been hunting the West for a few years now and intuition is a major key to success here, later I will find out that Poser has some good intuition as well!

We got back to the truck a few hours later, brewed some coffee and studied maps. Off to the Southern end of the mountains we went.

Hunting these deer takes a while to figure out. They hide in plain sight and move very little. All it takes is a little bit of cover and knowing what side of the mountains have the greater chance of holding the deer.

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The scenery is amazing, never boring to say the least.

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We made our way to a access point that I had studied before on the maps. After miles of 2-trac roads through cactus we arrived. Set up camp close to the truck, water is scarce, very scarce as one would imagine in the desert. We then headed out for a quick evening hunt.

We turned up no deer that evening and discussed the plan for the next morning while we navigated the mile or so back to the truck in the dark, dodging cactus and cat claws with our head lamps on full bright mode.

Once again, its big country. You can see the snow covered mountain peak in the background, thats where we left from that morning.

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The next morning we made our way to another drainage we picked out on a map. After making our way out alive from the cactus thickets the sun made its first appearance. With it came the first deer, does. As I pulled my binocs up I noticed another deer, buck! Big buck! The deer made their way across a drainage towards a ridge lione, it was time to move. Hiking up these mountains is never easy, having spotted a big buck gave us a little boost of energy, it was short lived.

We moved up further the mountain with no deer to be seen, it was close to 30 mins later so I figured they had moved over into the other drainage. As I stopped to wait on Poser I caught sight of a deer, buck! He was sky lined on the ridge to my North, part of the sun was hitting his back, a sweet site.

The sun was barely up, most of the mountains still blocked its rays. The deer looked forever away, I motioned to Poser and he immediately range him for me (A good hunting partner is always engaged in the hunt, even if they dont have a tag, Poser is a good huting partner). 200 yards, I thought "no freaking way, 300 was my guess". The deer presented no shot for me, but I still steadied my rifle on my pack, waiting. He then quarters slightly, walking behind a oak bush and keeping his namesake of the grey ghost. He disappeared.

Field judging a small whitetail in giant country is tough. B&C coues deer minimum is 110", these dudes top the scales at a whopping 100lbs dressed, just not normal for us Eastern hunters. Locals have told me if you see a 5x5 coues (10pt on the eastern scale) he is likely a book buck, this guy was an easy 10pt with the naked eye, even Poser acknowledged it.

We made our way up the mountain, it was like sheep country up here and the wind solidified the fact. 60+ mph gust made the glassing and hunting tough yet we managed to glass up some does that we seen earlier. I made a play on them to see if the buck was there, he wasn't.

We hiked a bit more to find a spot to get out of the wind, yet still be able to glass. We settled for a spot that produced only 40mph gust, cooked breakfast and started glassing.

Its practically impossible to tell, but in the center is a large cedar tree. In the opening is a small buck bedded down, this was 400 yards away and this is what your looking for while glassing.

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Glassing is tedious work. Good optics and a tripod are absolute, knowing what your doing is too, I guess. I took us a couple days to understand the habits of these ghost, once we did we made progress.

In addition to good glass is good clothing and finding a nice tight spot to settle into.

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Cooking breakfast/coffee is key to your sanity in the backcountry. Here is Poser and our little sponsor plug for trip, maybe we will get some endorsements for this later icon_e_smile.gif
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Glassing means setting up high above the animals and most of the time in direct line of mother nature. Dam you El Nino! The desert is supposed to be sunny and 80, not this trip!
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So later on in late morning we spot deer across on the other mountain. A few does were making there way down off the peak, we expected them to pick up other deer as they moved lower and away from the sun and into the shadows. Thats how these deer typically work, they bed on slopes that warm first then move with the shadows. If its very cold they will spend some time in the sun, but not for long.

The does made there way down and picked up some more deer, eventually a couple small bucks and later on the BIG one!
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We watched, lost, glassed up, watched and lost these deer all morning and afternoon long. They would chase, fight, bed, feed, chase, bed, fed, bed, etc. Even though you knew where they were you would loose them, very easily as a ghost does. The section of mountain we glassed was probably a 1/4 long and 1/2 high and held 1 few dozen trees with a dozen or more deer, those deer were invisible most of the time. Truly amazing.

One time they all had bedded for a good 30 mins, we made a move down our mountain to close in on them. We got to 350 yards of where we though they were bedded, the waiting began. I was ready, studied my shot and got comfortable, then he stood. Poser gave me a final range, boom! Nothing, he ran up the mountain 50 yards max to the other deer. Boom! Strike two, this time I seen dirt fly above his back, clean miss. He hit a ditch and vanished, its amazing how the only deer that runs on the whole freaking mountain is the one your shooting at. All these other deer are just standing around eating like nothing has happened, the big buck though, he knows how to grow old. After a few minutes later lay my rifle down and get behind my glass. Poser listens, like a good hunting buddy does, to me cuss. All of a sudden the buck appears down the mountain out from behind a cedar, how did he do that? He gave me enough time to get to my rifle and get set up, just in enough time to watch him cover 2 miles of canyon and cactus country in 30 seconds. Bye, bye booner and hello humble pie. I suck and blew it on a true giant, oh well it was day 3 and still plenty of time left.

Glassing in the open is risky, sometimes you have to move around and take the risk. Lucky for us we had the gusty wind in our face and plenty of distance from the bedded deer.
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Pretty sure Poser took this picture before I shot, a gentle reminder that I suck.
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We made our way back to the truck shortly after sun set, between the cactus and my failed attempt at shooting a deer it was a long rough hike back. Sleep was so, so but the beautiful Western sky was worth staring at. It eventually soothed me off, counting shooting stars and making a wish on each one helped too.

The next morning we hiked back to the same spot I missed the buck. Of course he wasn't to be found and of course every other deer was there, like nothing happened. We left and got back to the truck by early afternoon, possible rain/snow was coming and we were camped in a wash. Time to move to high ground.

That we did, back into the higher elevation mountains. Just on time was the snow, we didnt see any deer, night fell and we discussed our options. My gut feeling was to get off the mountain, to where I dont know. Poser said his intuition was to go back towards the general area where I missed the deer, so we did.

I had made some contacts in AZ early on, they gave me some access points. We agreed to go to one spot that offered lots and lots of backcountry hunting that was far from the trailhead and far up the mountain.

Day 4 ended with a 4 mile drive on a cactus covered desert 2-track dodging desert bunnies and hoping to see a lion.

That night it got cold, real cold. Reminded me of the first Longmire book "Cold Dish" - revenge is a dish best served cold, thats all I could think about. The forecast was for it to dip into the teens the rest of the week. Tomorrow morning was it, it was my time and mother nature gave us the perfect setting for a cold dish.

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To be continued..."Little Dictator" is calling

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Poser posted this while I was dealing with the little one...

"I'll take this interlude to discuss qualities that make a good hunting partner. I posted this to IG awhile back.

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A good hunting partner:

1. Never hits snooze more than once.
2. ****Never has to take a crap at an inconvenient moment.****
3. Never complains about a long approach, steep climb or technical terrain.
4. Knows how to find humor in the most difficult situations.
5. Never complains about the weight of their pack.
6. Willingly carries the heaviest items (spotting scope) or heaviest meat bags.
7. Always has their range finder immediately available.
8. Offers to handle food hanging duties in bear country. (Yes, there are bears in Az).
9. Has a water filtration system that doesn't take forever.
10. Offers to make coffee at every available opportunity.
11. Has a bottle of whiskey either cached somewhere or awaiting your return and does not mention its existence until it is in hand."

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Hopefully I can knock out some more details before bed time...

Day 5 comes early, it wasn't my worse night of sleep nor was it my best. The cold dry desert air had some moisture to it this morning for some reason, maybe it was to make this climb a bit tougher.

We started out, making our way up the mountain via a dry creek bed. My GPS indicated that we had a little over a mile to go and it was 1,200' elevation gain. My GPS forget to tell me it was a 800' elevation gain on the last 1/4 mile! Lots of crawling on hands and feet due to the incline, what little water that was coming out of the rock faces was now frozen and slick. We were sweating, oh the taste of hard work. Thank the lord for merino wool too, we didnt stink too much.

We made it to the top with both lungs and a few less fat cells. The sun was high enough in the sky now to see a bit, but it was still to early. We discovered the deer on these super cold mornings lay in bed a bit longer, must be nice.

Another 1/2 mile or so on top of the mountain would get us to our spot. We made our way, fighting the cold wind. We found a couple rock outcroppings and settled in, a few minutes into glassing and it became apparent the cold wind was actually brutal. How long could we stay here and glass into this wind? The sun would not hit our mountain for a while, we needed to find sunny slopes and fast.

Here is another picture from day 2; the winter storm had some serious energy up high.
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I left to go find some sun, Poser stayed back and glassed. I returned within 20 mins to get him and our gear, I found a good glassing spot with sun and no wind, plus it had cover we could glass...perfect!

We got settled in our new spot and shortly started finding deer, lots of them. It was fun playing wears Waldo for a while but no bucks were showing up. I told Poser I was going to do a sweep of the area we left an hour or so ago, to see if the sun was hitting it yet. He recommended I swing below the saddle and check out the next ridge after I glassed our previous spot, WESTERN HUNTER INTUITION!
Navigating the steep open terrain is tough, playing leap frog on the only available cover makes it fun.
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I did a sweep of the two drains behind us, no deer and no sun. So I made my way to the saddle, stayed low and crawled up to the peak. Deer! 3 does in a drain below me, wind in my face and some cover between us. I crawl in to the nearest cover, cactus...go figure. I nestle in, feeling the piercing of the needles into my buttocks and making a mental note to pack tweezers with me next time. No time for a literal pain in my butt, I was on deer. I pulled my binocs up and found a couple more deer, this time I had 5 does.

To my left I catch a glance of something, buck! He is running towards the does moving in and out of the Juniper and Oaks like a NFL running back going all the way. That feeling we all get starts working its way up from my legs, luckily I was warmed from the hike so it was the only shaking I had.
He was crossed one ditch, popped back up and was now headed for the deepest one. What was he going to do? Go down the mountain towards the does or go up? He disappears in the ditch, I wait with my rifle on ready. No deer, did he turn into a ghost? I had to move, up the mountain to see if I can get a better vantage. I move approx 100 yards up, to another cactus patch. Within seconds I see him, going back up on the trail he took down. Safety off, I aim high. I knew he wasnt very far but Poser was back on the other ridge and I have become dependent on him ranging for me, so I guess. Boom!

I wasnt the one serving the cold dish this morning, I was being served. I missed again! He takes off back up the hill, dodging the same Juniper and Oaks as before. This time I knew his purpose, trying to live through another season. I keep my rifle on him, just in case, not sure what I thought he was going to do. These deer are even more spookier than their Eastern cousins, he was gone for sure.

Just before he got to the ridge that dove off the edge of the world he stopped, slight quartering away and checked out his back trail. If you have ever hunted mule deer you know this fatal move they typically make, but this was no mulie he was a jittery shot at grey ghost. He was my chance, my last chance. Free handed I put the cross hairs in the middle of his ribs and a few inches below his spine. Every other shot I have missed high, way high. So out of instinct I aim and squeeze the trigger...

Here is the spot I was sitting when I shot at the buck. Very thick compared to the country when have been hunting in. This spot was actually about 6,500' up tucked between some high mountain peaks.
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Missed! Again?!?!?! How the heck, my rifle must be off. We all have excuses, no doubt but mine were running out. I sobbed, said some words I regret, hung my head and made my way to Poser to break the news...or remind him that I still suck.

It was a real long walk, long enough to replay everything in my head a dozen times though. I wanted to go back to the spot I missed, range it and then head to the last spot I shot. I was 90% sure I had missed, almost certain if my feelings accounted for anything. The 10% that hung on was one little abnormal account that happened right before the buck disappeared over the ridge. A large cactus had moved, or so I thought. I was asking myself, what would cause a cactus to move? Especially one that was every bit of 6' tall and half as wide? Strange but I shuffled it to the back of memory when I arrived to Poser.

Im sure my face told him all he wanted to know, yet he wasn't sure. The shot(s) had been muffled by the terrain and wind, so he wasn't 100% sure it was me. So I got to tell him, play by play the horror story I just lived through, for the second time.

We loaded our gear into our packs and made our way over. Once we got to the spot I shot from he ranged it for me, 150 yards! Are you kidding me! No wonder I missed, I shot 2 foot over his head. I never would have guessed that distance, this terrain is ghostly too. He ranged the ridge I shot at him the second time, not much over 200. That shuffled memory of the cactus starts moving back, slowly though.

We start to hike to the first spot he was standing, 10 mins later we arrive. Yes, 10 mins to cover 150 yards. The terrain is no joke. No blood, I knew for certain it was a clean miss but more than anything I wanted to check his trail. Yep, it was a well worn trail and my guess of him going up or down the mountain was proven to be true as the trails lead both ways in that drain, perfectly hidden from predators.

We start to make our way to the second spot, I tell Poser it should be easy to check for any proof of a hit because the sun had yet to melt last nights snow. Another 5 mins or so later to cover the last 50 yards we arrive. I thought I seen him run between to large Juniper trees, so we make our way over.

Poser hangs back doing a thorough search of the ground while I push ahead. Its imperative to watch every step you take in cactus country, but when your hunting it sometimes becomes forgotten. You are quickly reminded though, especially when a needle spines you in the thigh. Its still there, right now. Maybe 1/16th of an inch long, a desert stowaway if you will.

The sharp pain of cactus piercing your skin only last a brief moment, back to scanning the snow.

You know that feeling you get when you discover something unexpected? Not the one that startles you but the one that dumps a truck load of emotion on you in a fraction of a second and at the same time lifts that ton of bricks off you. Most of us have been there, especially deer hunting. Its when we least expect it, when all hope is gone, when you accept defeat.

(I had accepted the defeat, thats what I told Poser hiking back over hear. I had my chance, not one but two. We did everything we were supposed to do but I blew it, at the last second. I was given the opportunities, seen some wonderful country, experienced some of the most action packed deer activity I have ever seen, had a head full of memories. I subsided to the fact that I was probably going to go home without any meat to make SW dishes from and no antlers to provide proof for the stories I would tell many years down the road. I was OK with that, seriously. I wasn't ready to give up either, its just that our time was running out.)

Right there, on the side of the Juniper, was the sight that triggered that memory. Blood!

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As such, Im out of time tonight. I've had more time than expected to post and therefore I am able to add the suspense I felt.

Love leaving you hanging!

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Another Poser intermission...

"I can add a little bit here from my perspective. We had gone through a town the night before, so naturally we stopped and stuffed our faces with Mexican food. Thus far in the trip, the long desert nights had been affording us a solid 8, 9 even 10 hours of sleep. Delayed by dinner and 45 minutes of winding Forrest service road, we got into bed late and 4:30 came painfully early. Still bloated from the previous night's dinner, I skipped breakfast for now, but I wasn't expecting such a long, difficult climb. My body doesn't do so well when it comes to putting out sustained wattage in a fasted state and I sure enough suffered through that last half of that hard, cold climb as I was running on empty.

When we hit our 1st glassing spot, it was Arctic cold. While AT Hiker went off to have a look around, I decided it was high time for breakfast. I struggled to get water through my frozen bladder hose and into the stove. I had to suck icy mouthfuls of water through and spit them into the stove canister only to have it freeze solid. I think we were a couple of degrees below zero there in the wind. When AT Hiker comes and gets me, it was a relief. We flopped down just over the other side of the mountain, out of the wind and in the glorious & golden, warm sun. Mind you, we were breaking a cardinal rule of Coues hunting because we had the sun in our faces instead of behind us, but it felt so good, there was no going back to the shade.

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With a hot cup of coffee and hot, rehydrated breakfast of buckwheat and beef fat warming up my gut, I started playing peak-a-boo with several does.

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AT Hiker left a 2nd time to have a look around for any bucks while I stayed put watching the does. 3-4 of the does suddenly up and took off over the ridge. I figured that they had caught his wind since I thought he had gone to my left, though, turns out he had taken my suggestion and gone right and the does had dropped into the drainage he was in. The timing must have been prefect, because I believe it was these does that lured the buck close to AT Hiker. I heard the shots and couldn't tell for sure how close they were or if they were AT Hiker's or someone else, but I saw him coming back over the ridge towards me and thought "that's it" and started packing up my stuff. however, once he got a little closer, I could tell by his posture and body language that all was not well.

AT Hiker was visibly upset with himself and muttering about having to check his rifle sights. I tried to remain positive here. "Well, let's go have a look and see what we find" sort of attitude, but, based on what he was describing, I didn't expect to find anything. Turns out, in an effort not to have false hopes (he was 80% certain he had missed that shot) he withheld the fact that he had observed a subtle reaction to the gunshot that he described above.

To be continued."

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Blood! Lots of it too, last nights snow has dramatized it to the point that some of it looks like a scene from a cheesy crime thriller. Its easy to follow, I want to go ahead of it to look over the ridge but I know not to, so I continue the easy trail. Turns out he didn't go between the Junipers, instead he dove straight through the first one as blood with blood as evidence.

I steal a couple glances back at Poser, he is taking pics of our crime scene. If it weren't for the thank you praise's I was joyfully cheering you might actually thank we were investigating a crime. Its all surreal now, except for the thought that the deer did not look hit when I last shot, from the sight of the blood he was hit good, real good.

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I take the easy route, between the Junipers, and come out on the other side. The blood fades a bit now and I look ahead at the tall thick jungle of cactus, the world must end on the other side of them I thought. The landscape just falls away, sharply. Immediately I notice the tall cactus that moved, it was etched in my memory even though I tried to push it out earlier. Its amazing how the brain works really, the balancing act of thoughts and emotions racing around without every unnecessarily colliding with each other. When they do collide its an emotional surprise, the good kind.

I look at the cactus, blood. Not much but what strikes me odd is that this cactus, along with the others has created an impenetrable fortress. No way to get through it and on the other side is the end of the world. Where did he go? Did he turn into a ghost again, like all these deer seem to do?

I then start to turn, scanning the surroundings to see what my next move would be. As on cue like a magicians curtain, there he lay. Did his ghostly body reappear? He was right there in front of me, only feet away. I was so focused on the blood trail and the cactus that I failed to scan my surroundings. That feeling hit me full force, not sure if you want to cry and hug someone or what. Luckily for Poser he wasn't quite caught up with me yet or he may have yanked my man card right there and vow to never give it back.

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The hit was perfect, back of rib cage entrance and the exit hole attempted to come out the opposite shoulder. The bullet fragmented, went down the bone and came out between his knee and shoulder. The front left leg was no more, amazing how they can run like no other when they have so little left. The giant cactus was a springboard of sorts, he ran into it and was knocked backwards. A ledgy section of brush and small cactus stopped him going down the canyon, lucky us.

We examine the deer, took note of how much bigger his body was than we expected (we had to pack this guy out, about 4 hours worth of packing) and how dark his rack was. Snapped some photos and talked about the shot. I had just killed my first Coues Deer, no one word could ever describe the feeling.

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We went to work shortly after, quickly discussing the plan. Once again, a good hunting partner is a must in the backcountry, Poser is just that. Together we got the deer caped, quartered and packed in a reasonable amount of time. I shot him sometime after 10:30 am, found him at 11:45 and we were back at the truck by 5:30pm.

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As we were walking the small section between the saddle I crawled over and the one Poser was glassing from, he made the comment "think about the emotion you had the last time you walked through here". He had a point, this very section a few hours before I had accepted defeat. I had replayed all the scenarios and agreed with myself I would not have done anything different, I would likely go home with some pictures of a great adventure and a unpunched tag.

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The pack out was not to bad. We choose the long route out, avoiding the 1/2 mile rock face we climb that morning. We discussed the hunt, the whole adventure actually. We talked about how we would approach this hunt differently if giving the chance, would we ever come back to archery hunt it? Doubt it, getting them within rifle range was tough enough. We discussed future hunting trips, gear upgrades, recipes for the newly acquired meat and all things else.

We got back to the truck, enough daylight left to pack our gear up and fully cape out the deer. I pulled out the celebratory bourbon, we toasted to the grey ghost.

No tongue left behind. The heart and tongue were the only organs we could salvage. The quartering shot took care of everything else.
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After our chores were done we loaded up. As if you couldn't romanticize this Western adventure anymore we drove off into the sunset, cheesy yes. Our trail would lead us to New Mexico for our last authentic Mexican dish and then to El Paso, TX for a nights rest and shower.

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Great story and pics! Loved the little dictator reference. I have one too. Her latest is to demand that "Papa, Honk Horn" as I'm driving. Other drivers think I'm crazy, I Love It!

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Haha, yea they are a blast. I love being a Dad, especially to a little girl. My wife and daughter actually made the drive out there with me, they flew back home. That drive out there was an adventure in itself!

 

Here they are at the Saguaro National Park

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Wow sounds like a heck of a trip thanks for sharing with us. Felt like I was along for the hunt

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