The hunt of 1996 found us hunting mulies in area 21 and 22, outside of Rangley, Colorado. I brought my son Steven along for his first big game hunt. From the hours upon hours of driving the roads looking for deer it was apparent that area 21 was the place to be, if you could get to where the mulies were.

Denny took us for a thrilling ride up to the top of the mountains. At one point we were literally climbing rocks with a wall on one side and a straight shot to the bottom on the other. I know at several points during the climb that we were all leaning starboard and our butts were pinching hairs. Once to the top however, we were alone.

Members of our group who had area 21 tags filled them shortly afterward. We spent the next couple of days roaming the backroads and trails of area 22 looking for the elusive deer. Then suddenly (seems like it's always suddenly out of nowhere) we spotted a couple of does a 150 yards out to the left amid the sage brush. It was a mad scramble to get out of the Scout and get ready to fire. One doe drifted out of sight and one stayed. I took a bead on her and was prepared to shoot, but I waited until Steven finally got his hiney out of the vehicle and let him take the shot.

He shot and harvested his first deer. At this point in my hunting adventures I have yet to get my first one. There are some things in life that a Father will cherish. Watching as my son dragged his kill to the road was such a moment.