Cleaning out my inbox and expanding your vocabulary

It'll take you a good 10 minutes to read this, but I promise it will be a really awesome 10 minutes.

Every year 'round about January 1, Michael starts thinking about where to hunt for that year. Well, that's not quite accurate. Actually, it's pretty much a constant on-his-mind type of thing. See, right now he's thinking about where he will hunt for 2011 and after he's put in for next year, he's already got the plan for 2012 and so on. So these hunts that we have just come back from have been planned out for well over a year. I had (by Michael proxy) been putting in for a hunt in Utah for well over 6 years. Every year I had been unsuccessful in the draw, which meant I gained a bonus point that made me that much more likely to draw in upcoming years. Having said that, a person could put in for hunts in certain areas for 15+ years with that many, sometimes more, bonus points and still not draw.

 Utah has created what they call a management hunt for one of their big draw, trophy units which means that they have created another season in addition to the ones already in place. I may be wrong, but I understand this is only a 5 year program. The only additional rule for this hunt is that the deer you harvest must have no more than 3 points on one antler measuring over 1 inch. The other side can be anything: 3, 2, 5, or 11; just so long as one side is 3 points or less.

Michael and I decided that this would be the hunt for me. I don't hunt much anyway and for me to draw a Southern Utah Paunsaugunt hunt, at the beginning of the rut during their migration period would be my chance to potentially shoot a big deer. In we put and out we drew! Yee haw! Let the planning begin.

Fast forward to three weeks ago. We packed up the fam and off we drove to the Beehive State. I feel it necessary to mention that we have an extended cab, long bed truck with a shell. It was jam packed. Seriously, there was not one inch of space anywhere. Someone made a comment that they didn't even pack that much stuff while traveling overseas. Well duh! You didn't take three children, a dog, and enough stuff to hunt two out of state hunts and entertain said crowd for two weeks now did ya?

We began by stopping off at my folks' house for a bit of Halloweening and a party that was not to be missed. (I'll show you all about it as soon as I get the pics. Ahem. Mom.)

When Monday morning rolled around, we headed on down to the Prop which is where my other family resides and where we would be depositing the children for the duration of my hunt. I was only a little (a lot) apprehensive about leaving Laynee with Grandma. Not because I was worried about her, but because I was worried about me. I have never left her for longer than one night. The older kids had stayed on with Grandma for an extra week during the summer so I knew that they would be fine. But you know what? I needn't have worried.  If you had a mother in law like I do, you fears never would have even surfaced. She took magnificent care of them and they hardly even knew I had disappeared. In fact, Laynee told me that I came back too soon.

On to the story you've been waiting to hear.

We arrived at our destination a little later than The Chief would have liked, but that was only because he was awesome and let me sleep in till 6:30. I got to shower and eat a leisurely breakfast and we even took our time driving there. We made some stops along the way and we talked. And talked and talked. Granted, we talk every day, but not like this. We chatted up a storm! It was so fun!

We found our camp spot and set up our temporary home, then we went out for an evening scout.

Happy campers

We ran into this bad boy. Hooo weeee. Nice. Not a management buck though.

We also saw this beauty. He was a management buck, but it was the wrong time to shoot. Not because the sun wasn't shining on his antlers but because the hunt hadn't started yet, silly.

Side note: my sweet mother in law sometimes reminds me of Amelia Bedelia, the literal minded maid; a bit of a mondegreen (\MON-di-green\, noun: A word or phrase resulting from a misinterpretation of a word or phrase that has been heard.) You know, how when Amelia Bedelia was asked to "hit the road", she did. With a stick. My mom-in-law was a little confused as to when the hunting times were. She thought that if the sun wasn't shining, you couldn't hunt because it wasn't technically daylight. Haha. I guess if that were true, there wouldn't be any hunting allowed in Oregon during the fall, winter, spring and some of the summer. Tee hee.



Hello ladies. Where'd your boyfriends go?

We drove up to a ridge to make a few phone calls to those who would be joining us on the hunt to be extra eyes and we sat and watched all the hunters setting up camp. It was a good excuse to use our binos and glass for deer, too.

As many of you know, I am not a morning person. I do not enjoy matutinal (\muh-TOOT-n-uhl\, adjective: Relating to or occurring in the morning; early) activities. I would much rather sleep in my warm cuddly bed than wake before the sun does and  try to find an animal who would outsmart me at every turn. But this time? This trip? I was actually excited to rise and shine. Even if it was freezing cold. 

I must insert here, that Miguel never once pushed me or hounded me or had to use that cattle prod he bought on the way down to get me going.  We woke to the sound of coyotes and promptly applied as many layers as we could muster. Imagine a grown-up version of Ralphie's little brother on A Christmas Story. That was me on opening morning. Mmmmm. Toasty warm.

It was because of this chill in the air that we decided to travel by truck rather than by 4-wheeler. We drove the truck to a nearby spot, stopped and glassed and right away we saw bucks; 1,000 yards away. We pulled the truck off the side of the road, got out and began the hunt. All over were deer spoors. (\SPOHR\, noun: A track or trail, esp. that of a wild animal pursued as game.) The ground was sand which made it easy to see where the animals had been. Tracking a buck would be easy in this, right? Psh. Riiiiiight.

Lying in the sage; the antler was begging to be claimed. It was torture
letting it sit there.

We walked away from the road and toward the bucks trying to make it to the shadows of the trees before the sun fully rose. This was the perfect time to practice our lucifugous-ness. (\loo-see-FOO-guhs\, adjective: the act of avoiding light.)
We found a nice little grove of trees where we set up to sit and wait. And watch. Michael got out the spotting scope and immediately began searching for the buckaroos. Meanwhile, I was scoping out our surroundings when what to my wandering eyes did appear but a white shed antler from a Paunsaugunt deer. Only about 30 yards from where we were standing. Woot woot! I could hardly contain my excitement because people! Never in my life have I found an antler on my own without Michael finding it first and leading me to it pretending that he hadn't already found it. I was so proud that I started to walk out of the shade toward it. I soon discovered my actions to be a big no-no. My only clue was the muffled, hissing cry that came from behind me. Which was also the general area where Michael was standing. The strange hissing sound seemed to be emanating from his mouth. And here I thought we were supposed be communicating by mussitation! (\MUHS-i-tey-shun\, verb: To silently move the lips in simulation of audible speech.) Probably it meant I should proceed no further. The antler was in the sun and we were hidden in the shade. If I retrieved my treasure right then, I would be giving away our position and our cover would have been blown. Fine! Gosh. I sat and waited impatiently for the sun to move. Logically I knew that no one would come to pick it up but emotionally, I needed to hold that bone in my hand. (smile)

While I was waiting for the Earth to turn and the sun to move, my guide was searching for our prey. I did my share of scoping out the hillside too and when I told Michael I had seen a big buck, he moved the scope to where he thought I was directing him and lo and behold, I was right. A beautiful, heavy horned 4x3 chillin' out in the shade of a cedar tree babysitting some does. Only thing is, that wasn't really where I had told him to look. I was looking at a really big rock that took on the shape of a mule deer. But let's just keep that between us, mmmkay?

I made the decision that this would be the deer I would shoot. But because of all the females in his presence we could not sneak up on him or they would alert him as to our approach. The waiting game began. Thankfully, during our waiting period, the Earth cooperated and it moved just enough so that I could slowly and sneakily walk down and gather my treasure. Yesssssss. 'Twas a beauty. And it brought me much content during that time.

Whilst we waited for the does to leave the area, we also spotted up this tall three point. He was hangin' with another tall buck; a smaller horned 3x4 than the one we were hoping to bag. In my head, I thought, "Duuuude! He's pretty and I might have to shoot him." He too was in the shade of a cedar tree. These bucks didn't seem fond of beeking. (\BEEK\, verb:  To bask or warm in the sunshine or before a fire.) I soooo wanted to warm myself in the sun, but Miguel, being the smarty pants that he is, assured me that all too soon I would be shedding some of my layers because it was shaping up to be a warm day. Why, just the day before it was a beautiful 78 degrees!
He was right. Within minutes, the deer we were watching up and walked over the ridge following his harem, which meant we would be free to pursue him. Keeping the two tall guys to our left and what we thought was upwind from us, we began the stalk. To surmise a bit; it got hot, I took off all but one of my 7 layers, we tracked The Big One for two miles; he eluded us and before we knew it we were back where we started from at the top of the ridge. "Fine!", I thought. Maybe it would be fun to get a closer look a the three point who had, in my mind's eye, gotten taller and just see him up close.

Here's where it really gets good. I don't think I can tell you all enough how much my husband knows about this sort of stuff. I swear that man is one part human, one part Earth, and one part mule deer because what happened next still leaves me in awe. I'll try to make it short seeing as this is long winded enough. But do forgive me if I can't.

We tried to sneak up on The Tall One only to find he had winded us, looped around us, and made a nice cozy bed below us. We spotted him, put the sneak on and got within 90 yards of him on the other side of some cedar trees. Forgetting that this was not the time to take matters into my own hands, I stepped out of the shade and into the sun. The Tall One spotted me and darted off into the trees with his co-pilot, giving me less than one second to shoot him if I so chose. I did chose, but my time was up. These deer were proficient at fulgurating (\FUHL-gyuh-reyt-ing\, verb: To flash or dart like lightning.) It's how they've come to live so long and grow so big. He gave me one more chance, shorter than the last, and off he ran making that what I believed to be my last chance. I shouldered my rifle, put my head down and pouted. I glanced at Michael who had taken off his hat and had his head in his hands, seemingly pouting as well.

Now. This is the part where I will try to describe to you what went on in Michael's head. While I was pouting, he was not. If this were a Hollywood movie, you would see a map being illustrated over his head with the deer running over the terrain and Michael's thoughts being one step ahead. The man was thinking about the lay of the land and the behavior of the deer. He knew where the trees were, where the open spots were, where there was a road that crossed perpendicular to us, and he knew where those deer were headed. All because he had memorized his surroundings and had studied the habits of those deer that day. He knew what they would do next.

 Suddenly, snapping his head up, he whirled around and yelled, "Come on!" And then he bolted off in pursuit of The Tall One. I had no choice but to follow. I won't lie, I thought I was in shape, but following Michael while we were hot on the trail of a buck was like trying to catch a gazelle who is being chased by a lion. It's darn near impossible. By the time I caught up with him he had already spotted The Tall One and was yanking  me down, trying to get me and the rifle lined up with where the deer were; a small quarter sized patch of ground as seen by the naked eye,  nearly 300 yards away. The deer's white rear end was staring me in the face. "Not another Texan," I thought. But before that thought even had time to register, he was gone into the trees again and I couldn't find him. He emerged about 70 yards away and a little to the left from where he just was, and allowing Michael to adjust the scope, I put the buck in my cross hairs, took a deep breath to steady myself and pulled the trigger. Immediately after the shot, we heard what every hunter hopes to hear after the boom; that of the bullet hitting its mark. Shaking and excited I turned to Michael and apologized for yelling at him. Oh! Did I leave that part out? Huh. Well there was quite a bit of yelling and "Shut up!" "Just shoot!" "You shut up! You shoot him if you think you're so smart!" We both agreed that it was water under the bridge, no hard feelings, and off we went to find the deer I had downed.

371 yards. One single shot. You may now be properly amazed.

Another bone on the ground found on the way to my deer.

When we walked up on him, I began to cry again. I can't help it! I feel so emotional at these times. He was a beautiful buck and I feel honored to have been the one to harvest him. Thanks Utah Division of Wildlife Resources for drawing my name out of a hat with a 10% chance of lucking out. And thank you Michael for making all of my wildest dreams come true.

I may have been a little freaked and somewhat awed to hold his heart in my hands.

It was the hunt of my life; one I never want to forget. And one that will forever remain the hunt that all hunts hereafter will be compared to.