Opening day of deer season in Colorado has brought excitement for generations of hunters. There is an unusually peaked point of anticipation when one of your children is ready to take his first deer. This year that father's anticipation was multiplied by a factor of three. This year three of my children ages 12, 14 and 18 were on an adventure to harvest their first large game animals in Colorado.
Pictured at left are Sam, Neil and Dorié Le on their first deer hunt.
The area we were hunting was rolling hills covered with juniper pines and cedar trees and a thick carpet of various sized sagebrush that grabs you at just about every step you take. The area is ripe with steep, deep, unforgiving drainages that not only limit one's mobility, but visibility also. It is hard to get clear view of game animals while in the midst of the wide fifteen-foot pine trees. There are a few choice spots, but they are few and far between. The best chance to see the elusive mule deer is at the top of the area where all of the terrain's fingers connect.
Sam's Deer (10/20/2007)
As the darkness of the Eastern sky was beginning to show the first glimpse of the dawning of a new day and first light was close at hand the 1989 Suburban with its passengers full of anticipation crept slowly down the two track along the fence line that separated the Bureau of Land Management, BLM land from the private ranch to the North. As we approached the gate at the top of the draw the headlights were extinguished and one of the boys got out to open the gate and closing it behind us when we passed through.
We drove down the dry tracks that thousands of vehicles have driven before us over the many years and hunts gone by. We crested the top of a hill that once the sun finally peaked over the horizon would illuminate the whole top area and show the more than a mile diameter bowl that the deer cross every morning and evening to go to and from their feeding and ground to their nightly bedding areas.
I slowly drove the vehicle down off of the top rim into the bowl about a hundred and fifty yards so that we would not stick out like the proverbial sore thumb and tip off the prey to our presence in their backyard.
We slowly and somewhat quietly got out of the vehicle and loaded our firearms. The collection of guns included a Savage 30.06, a Ruger M77 Mannlicher chambered in .308 and the Savage model 10 chambered in the lighter caliber .243. For me, I had a buck tag and was going to try to take mine with my Thompson Center .54 caliber muzzleloader.
I sent Neil out a hundred and fifty yards to the West to set up on the point of a sagebrush covered finger with instructions to be able to see into the draw that would be below him as much as possible.
Dorié Le had sprained her ankle in school two days ago she was on crutches and was not as mobile as her brothers. I sent her and Sam fifty yards to the East to overlook the wide ravine below. I took up a position in front of a bush near the Suburban.
The wait was on as the sun's golden rays peaked over the horizon and shot into the now blue sky. For some reason I could not wait any longer and had to satisfy my other out door passion of photography. I got up from my lookout position and slowly meandered over to the vehicle to get my digital SLR to take some pictures of what was maturing into one gorgeous sunrise.
As my hand reached for the door handle a flash of tan to the North caught my eye. There they were, two good sized does, now frozen in the tracks that we had just driven on twenty minutes earlier. I signaled to Neil and pointed to the deer that were behind him and headed his way. He headed down the little gully and up the small incline that shielded the does from his sight. By the time he got there and set up they had already passed by and were getting out of range.
I called Sam over to take up position on the finger that Neil had just vacated. He hurried over with the rather large 30.06 slung over his twelve year old shoulder. As he left I reminded him to breathe if he was to take a shot. The following few minutes are still held captive by time and space.
My prosthetic leg did not allow me to traverse the sagebrush laden terrain as quickly as a twelve year old with his first deer in sight. Not wanting to spook the deer I froze and watched as Sam carefully made his way toward the gnarly edge of the high point of the finger of land where he could set up for his shot.
I watch through my binoculars a good fifty yards behind Sam. I could see him in his blaze orange and I could also see the tan hide of the two deer across the expanse of open air beyond his position. It looked like at least three hundred yards shot from where I stood to the target. Sam set up the monopod and rested the Savage rifle in the v opening at the top. A shot rang out and nothing happened across the ravine. The deer were not even phased by the misplaced lead. I watched as Sam again set up for his second shot. It was painful to watch as he tried desperately to line up the shot on the monopod. Again a shot sounded and echoed through the valley beyond the deer. This shot missed too, but it must have be much closer because the bigger of the two does quickly and alertly turned her head in our direction.
At this point Sam put down the rifle rest and picked up the 30.06 and leveled it at the doe now presenting perfectly broad side shot to the young lad. I could see both Sam and the doe in my binoculars as a puff of gray smoke blasted from the muzzle of the rifle. The sound of the shot hit my ears and then three seconds later the mule deer tumbled sideways twice down the hill.
I walked over to congratulate Sam on a fine shot, but when I got to where he shot from he was already across the ravine examining his first harvest of a big game animal. I took out my yardage finder and pointed it at the boy and his deer. It said target acquired: 267 yards. Wow!
After we got the deer field dressed an into the vehicle we went back to camp, found a suitable juniper pine tree and hung the nice doe so that Sam could skin her to cool her down quickly.
Neil's Deer (10/23/2007)
Tuesday, October 23, 2007, Neil gets his first deer.
First light found us parked in the same spot we were at for opening day. The placement of hunters was a little different. This morning Dorié Le would be positioned where Sam got his deer on Saturday, Sam would be on the next point about 150 yards to the South and Neil would be at the next overlook a hundred yards even further South.
As Neil was walking down the two track to get in position the heads of six surprised does popped up over hill in front of him. He stopped and tried to line u a shot in the event they showed more of themselves than their heads and necks. It did not take them but twenty seconds before they decided the best thing was to drop down into the gully below and disappear before Neil could get to the top of the hill and see which way they went.
I watched as Neil went over the side of the hill land disappeared from my sight. The kids were all in their places and every inch of the ravine running north and south and the intersecting east and west ravine were blanketed by youthful eyes. I took up a position overlooking the small valley just east of the Suburban.
It was not long before I heard the report of a rifle in the not too far off distance. I played the game of identify that rifle by the sound it makes when it is fired. It sounded heavier than the .243 and not as crisp or as powerful as the longer barrel of the 30.06. I guessed it to be the .308 Ruger Mannlicher that Neil was carrying. I waited a few minutes and decided to see who shat at what. I walked over to Dorié Le and she had not seen or shot at anything. As I was talking to her Sam came over to let us know that Neil had a deer down and that a couple of hunters were by his deer.
I told Dorié to stay put and I would be back in a few minutes. I got in the vehicle and followed Sam down through the sagebrush as far as I could go. I looked across the great divide and saw the two hunters above the deep swath through the Earth. They appeared to be at least 500 yards away. I looked down into the ravine and saw the glow of Neil's orange vest and hat a good 200 yards below. Sam was halfway between Neil and me and all I could think of was this was going to be one long, tiring dragging of the deer. These boys were going to realize the full impact of the phrase that the work begins after the shot is taken. I reached into the vehicle and grabbed my trusty walking stick and my knives and began the slow descent into the crevice.
When I got to Neil I asked him where his deer was and he pointed to three quarters of the way up the other side of the step ravine. It deer was sitting up and still alive. When I asked him why he said that he shot the deer from near where the Suburban was now parked and he could not get a second shot off because the two hunters across the way were somewhat behind the deer and 50 yards or so above it. At that point Neil got 16 safety points for knowing his target and what was beyond it. As I was walking down the hill I saw that the two hunters were far off to the east and told Neil to go ahead and finish her off. A well placed shot in the boiler room made a quick end to Neil's hunt for deer.
I told Neil to get up there and he and Sam went down into a very steep drainage, still engulfed in the snow from Saturday afternoon's storm. I took one look and just knew that this one-legged guy was not going to try to cross to the other side, at least not there. I looked to the east and I could see the two track that went passed the cattle water tank a good 200 yards away. I told the boys that the easiest way to get that deer out was going to be to drag it to the road and I would meet them there. If they dragged it right it they could drag it along the hill at a slight downward angle using gravity to help them along.
I made the long trek back up to the Suburban and went to tell Dorié Le what we were doing. She told me that she saw a small group of four does and a buck and could not pull the trigger because her hands were shaking. I asked if it was because of the cold and she told me that and good rush of adrenaline.
I left and drove the heavy Suburban down the very steep hill where the stock tank was. I was glad that I would not have to be going up that hill, as the ground was still pretty wet from the snow that was melting.
As I pulled forward I could see Neil and Sam about 100 yards away coming toward the road with the deer in tow. I got out and met them and proceeded to field dress the deer. It made the rest of their trek toward the vehicle a little lighter. We packed the deer and headed up the hill towards the south side of the mile wide bowl.
Instead of going up that steep incline I decided to take the long way around because the road would not be as steep. I got about 100 yards down the two track and we came to an abrupt halt. The wheels were spinning both forward and backward. The beast had become high-centered and we were stuck.
It was now 10:00 AM and we tried for the next couple of hours to get unstuck. We tried stuffing sagebrush under the tires to no avail. We dried jacking up the wheels and stuffing sagebrush under the tires, again to no avail. As the day grew longer the temperature warmed up and the ground under the Suburban turned into a mud bath.
We had to let Dorié Le know that we were stuck and not able to get back to her. She must have gotten impatient and worried because she showed up a quarter mile away at the top of the steep, muddy two track above the stock tank. She managed to make it over to us, crutches and all. What trooper!
Of most importance was to get Neil's deer cooled down. I divide my time between helping Neil and Sam skin the deer to trying to get the vehicle out of its muddy predicament. They finally got the animal skinned and we put it in the shade of the truck and covered it as best we could. Luckily it was not too warm that day.
For three more hours we waited for someone to come by while driving around looking for deer. At four o'clock, after sitting high centered for six hours I made the decision that we would hike back to camp. The tents and food were at least two miles away over some real hilly terrain that was going to test our stamina, especial since we were loaded down with firearms and anything of value that was in the Suburban.
We set off, hoping to make it to camp before darkness fell over the high desert. We did not make it far when a silver pickup truck came around the hill and asked if we needed some help. Did we ever!
The two gentlemen were from Texas and they were hunting with a guide service from down below. They had a rented truck and tried to get us out with just some rope we had in the back of the Suburban. That rope snapped in two at the first sign of tension. They called the guides who were on their way up to see if they could help. The showed up with a tow strap and proceeded to set us free. We expressed our gratitude and took a moment to thank God for answering our prayers.
I did reflect on the fact that our prayers were answered only after we had tried everything we could think of and it was not until we started on the long, trek back to camp were we rescued.
Dorié Le's Deer (10/24/2007)
For convenience sake Dorié Le's deer story starts the night before. It could have begun in July when she said that she wanted to go hunting to get her first deer. She had helped for the past few years with the processing of many deer, elk and antelope in the garage. She had said that she did not think that she could pull the trigger and actually take the life of an animal.
Perhaps her story started the day before when she saw a small herd of deer and her hands shook bad enough from the cold and adrenaline to prevent her from taking a clean shot.
After being stuck in the ruts for most of the day and finally getting back safe and sound to camp I examined our situation, came to a conclusion and made the following statement. I told the kids that since we had to be home the following evening that we would not set our alarm clocks and get up at a reasonable hour, eat a good breakfast, break camp and head on home. Dorié Le quickly countered my statement with one of her own. She said, “I haven't got my deer yet.”
Well the plans for the next morning changed as Dorié Le and I would be setting our alarms for 5:30 a.m., having our warm up breakfast of hot oatmeal, warming up the Suburban at 6:35 and heading down the frozen ruts of the two track at 6:45 as the silhouettes of the tops of the trees began to appear in front of a slowly lighting Eastern sky.
As first light we were already over the top of the North part of the bowl and a hundred yards down the ruts of the well traveled two track. I turned the vehicle around so that we could keep our eyes on the top of the bowl and the first gully in front of us. This is where we had seen the few small groups of deer in the days before.
As the sun peaked over the horizon we got out and got ready. It was not long before the group of four does and young buck came over the top of the hill. Dorié Le hastily set up for the shot at a doe and squeezed the trigger and sent a 100 grain .243 caliber bullet in the direction of the deer. The deer scattered back over the hill and out of sight. Even though we did not think that her flying lead did any damage we had to go and check and see for sure so I started up the vehicle and went over the top of the hill and parked down below on the other side.
We walked around the area where the deer had been spotted and shot at for at least a half an hour. There was no deer, no blood, not even a track of a footprint in the still frozen crust of dirt. The sun was now well over the horizon and its warm rays bathed the southern slope of the hill we were on. The warm glow was very welcoming to two cold hunters. We decided that we would sit on the side of the hill were we could see the whole top of the area we were hunting.
About 8:25 I noticed two vehicles at the gate we had passed through an hour and a half before. As a handicapped hunter I have welcomed some additional hunters to the area because there is very little pressure and a few other hunters get the animals moving around. A short time later the vehicles stopped just behind us and asked if this was still BLM land. My first instinct was to ask them if they had a map, but I just told them that as far as they could see up top here was indeed public property. I also warned them not to get off on any roads that were marked private as they were sure to be introduced to a local rancher that did not appreciate hunters wandering onto her property. Many a hunter has encountered the wrath of the landowner. Most have lived to tell about it.
The trucks drove over the top and past where we had been parked an hour earlier. They had some pretty new trucks and I remember telling Dorié as the first truck went over the hill that led to the stock tank below that they would be backing up when they saw the steep grade of the hill in front of them. Sure enough, thirty seconds later, the trucks were slowly crawling backwards up the muddy ruts.
Once they were up they veered off to the right and followed the long finger where Neil had gotten his deer the day before. About 100 yards later we watched as they exited their vehicles. One of the orange clad men raised his rifle and fired off a round. For the next half hour or so we watched as they went back and forth from their trucks to the far west side of the rugged finger looking for whatever the man shot at.
We were entertained for a half an hour and I looked at my watch and it read 9:00 am straight up. It looked as though Dorié Le was not going to get her deer. I looked at her and realized that we really did not have a time table chiseled in stone for the rest of the day. I said, “Let's give it until 9:15. Maybe those hunters off in the distance will stir up some game for us, or at least distract any deer that come over the top.” Dorié Le readily agreed and we relaxed back into the grass on the hill that was now beginning to warm up. It was then that I made my profound statement about hunting and being in the outdoors in general. I said, “When I find a good spot to watch for deer sometimes I sit and think and other time I just sit.”
At 9:10 am on October 24, 2007 Dorié Le turned her head to the left and spotted two does, a fawn and a young buck as they came up from the gully and stood right where the Suburban had been parked an hour earlier. I told her to calmly take careful aim at the lead doe and carefully pull the trigger. While she was setting up her shot I was busy getting the crosshairs of the Ruger M77 on the buck so that I could send the 150 grain bullet his way. He was looking at us and I did not have a good shot and besides I was going to wait until Dorié took her shot. She squeezed of a round and I don't think either of us heard the shot go off. She said the doe went down. I did not see it as I was concentrating on the buck in the scope hoping it would give me a shot. It turned quickly and I pulled the trigger, but as I did he dropped below the top of the hill and was gone.
I told Dorié to got check out her deer and I would bring the vehicle over. After I drove up I told her that I had to go see if my bullet had made contact with the fleeing buck. I went over to the bush where the deer were standing fifteen minutes earlier and looked for tell tale signs of a hit, blood or a tuft of fur. There was nothing that indicated a hit had been made. I saw some tracks in the little bit of snow that was still on the ground and followed them down the hill a ways and still no sign of blood. I looked over to the hill on the other side of the valley and spotted the doe, fawn and buck that had been standing where I was now only minutes ago. They all looked healthy and unharmed. I went back up the hill and joined a very happy and proud daughter as she stood over her first deer.
She said that she could not see where she shot it as there was no wound visible. I picked up her head and there was just a minimal amount of blood and a small hole in her neck. She was shot right through the windpipe. There was absolutely no waste of meat on this deer. We got out the knives and field dressed the rather large doe and got her into the back of the vehicle for the slow, prideful ride back to camp.
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We broke camp quickly and put all of the deer in the trailer. Dorié was going to skin hers when we got home. The brisk drive over two mountain passes on the way home would cool her deer down just fine.
When we got home we hung the three does in the garage. Dorié skinned her deer with a little help.
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We have it down to two hours per deer to get it from hanging in the garage to being all placed neatly into little white packages in the freezer. Here Neil is carefully wrapping the precious, tender, tasty morsels of venison into white paper.
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For two days after we got back to Loveland I was all algow with the pride of watching one's child shoot, skin and wrap their first deer, times three.
