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‘Braggin Bucks’ from memory, it is my hope that as you read along, it would take you along on this hunt of a lifetime! ... Phil Huffman and myself, lifelong Blacktail hunters, prowled the hills along the North Slope of the Olympics since we were kids. I grew up on the west side of the Dungeness River, Phil on the east. We trapped, hunted and dreamed through the pages of Outdoor Life, Fur Fish Game and the likes of these. We followed the stories of some of the great outdoor writers like Jack O’Connor. As the years went by we each got married and still, on occasion, managed to hunt together. This is one such occasion. .. Our story began in August of 1987 as we planned a horseback pack-in hunt. The plan was to go upriver into the backcountry taking advantage of the early buck hunt open only in the Wilderness Areas. Typically, this time of year, a hunter can expect decent weather and possibly catch some of the bucks still in velvet. Most of the larger and older bucks (if we could find them) would be rubbed and carrying black or darker antlers. It was an exciting time and would be one of my first ‘horse’ trips with Phil providing all of the livestock and their gear. Always, in the past, my back had gotten the gear in and the meat out, so this was to be a special treat! We planned our hunt to be into the backcountry by Sept. 15th, and at the time we had no idea our plans were about to change dramatically. ... With everything set, a plan in place, and gear nearly packed; Phil called with some last minute news that sent us scrambling with new ideas! Fred Holmes, a very good friend and accomplished hunter, had called him with a startling tip! He had spotted what he referred to as ‘Braggin Bucks’ while on a scouting trip. This group of deer, deep in the bottom of an often-overlooked basin, was only a day hike off the road. We knew it well, and it had to be checked out before we packed into the backcountry. Going on memory, I believe Fred had an injury and that is why he chose not to go after one of the bucks himself, a tough break. ... ... It seems like yesterday as I remember hiking up the mountain in the pre-dawn. The smell of the morning that all high-country hunters can relate to. Daylight was breaking when we left timberline and started across the meadow towards the first creek. We hunted and kept our eyes peeled for deer, but our destination was another mile away so we didn’t hunt it like we normally would. We didn’t want to miss the daylight hunt and have the game bedded before we got there. The sun was already hitting the highest peaks and we knew the deer would soon be out of site to escape the heat and bugs. There is a spot in particular where we like to slip over the rim, so we headed for it. Within this brushy spot not only could we change basins without being detected, it also had some shooting rests; things only the years show you, and handy to know. |
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Dave Wood and Phil Huffman with their Washington
High Country Columbian Blacktails.
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| ...Once
again we put our heads together and made a plan. With another short hike
we could slip back over the rim and side-hill out in front of the deer.
Perhaps then we could sneak in above them and maybe spot them still feeding
or bedded. It was not by chance these bucks were out of site; they had slipped
into one of the steepest, roughest outcroppings of rock in the whole area.
They knew exactly what they were doing! The hike out onto the rocky ridge
was tough and also a very long mental hike; I beat myself up for not taking
the shot offered. I guess we all know the feeling…enough said. We worked
our way across a steep slide and through a notch onto the ridge where the
bucks should have been. We combed that hill up one side and down the other
looking for those three bucks. We even went all the way down to the end
where we figured they just wouldn't go. It was no use, not a deer anywhere!
On the hike back up to the first spot, we carefully checked for any sign
of a crossing. Not so much as a fresh track! Quietly talking over our next
move and possible bedding spots, I suddenly spotted a brown speck down in
the rocks below. One glance through the scope and I knew it was deer hair.
We silently slipped behind a rock and made our way to a vantage point for
a better look. With packs off to use as rests, we eased into view of the
deer. There 90 to 100 yards below laid an awesome four-point buck. He had
no idea we were within a hundred miles. Using my daypack propped up on the
rock for a rest, I touched off a shot. He jerked, stood up and the second
shot dropped him back into his bed. Fortunately he never moved again, it
was straight down for 300 feet below! We didn't move a muscle! I'm sure
we both expected the hill to come alive with the other two bucks making
their escape. Oddly enough, there was no movement below on the hill. Silence…nothing
but silence! ...After several minutes, I started
across the steep chute to find a route down to the buck. Phil stayed on
guard to check out anything that may spook into view. As I traversed across
the hill, trying not to think of the danger, I wondered where the other
two bucks had gone. About ten or fifteen minutes later, I eased up and peeked
over a vertical bluff. There, 30 feet below laid my deer, and a dandy he
was! I wondered how I would dress and bone him with no room to work except
the bed he lay in. Easing back from the ledge I worked up and over to come
down from the side when I heard a subtle noise. Right before me a massive
set of antlers and head popped up into view! The buck's eyes looked like
saucers as we made eye contact! Just as quickly he was gone, and it sounded
like some serious scrambling going on over the edge out of site! The jig
was up so I yelled up to Phil "here they come"! With rocks rolling the two
big bucks came bounding into view as they headed straight away across the
hill. How they could move like that, in country like that, is still a marvel!
They popped in and out of view on their way to safety. I expected a shot
from Phil at any moment, but found out later, his view was not as good as
mine was. Glancing up, I saw he was gone from his original position. Obviously,
he was after the bucks and trying to cut them off. In a few minutes I heard
a single shot fired, and then silence. Well, I had my work ahead of me and
wasn't sure what Phil's situation was. ...Sharing our stories later, I found that Phil had only gotten a glimpse of the escaping bucks. One of his interesting comments was how he observed the biggest buck hesitated and try to horn my buck laying in the escape route. I guess to get him to move and run. Phil said he didn't actually poke him, but lowered and shook his head, then simply jumped over him and out of site. It happened so fast and then they were out of his site. Paralleling the escaping deer, Phil was able to cut them off and get a shot, dropping his huge buck on the edge of a steep bluff of rock. The deer had dropped, rolled and hung-up his antlers in an old log…it was all that stopped him from continuing on over the cliff. Not able to free the big buck by himself, he cut the head off and the body did indeed roll to the bottom of the valley below. It was a similar situation with the buck I took, he ended up on the valley floor and we boned and packed from there. ...After I had spooked the two big bucks across the hill, I found a narrow path down to my buck still lying in his bed. What I also found was the beds of the other two bucks tucked up tight to the rocks. I deduced that when I looked over the rim at my buck, I couldn't see the other deer because the rim cut back under me. It was a rush to set there for a minute and imagine how it all played out! I literally was only 30 feet vertically over those bucks! They must have heard me and walked out to have a look and that is when the big buck and I made eye contact. Penning this story from memory, I still remember the rush I felt looking into the old buck's eyes! After the two deer were out of site I followed a thin trail down to the bed my deer lay in. I was use to hanging my deer and then boning them; so with only his bed to work in, I was out of my comfort zone. Like I said, both our bucks ended up in the bottom, but that is the chance we take when we hunt in the rimrock. ... Packing those animals up and out of that valley, Phil and I knew we were living the hunt of a lifetime! Dave Wood Jan.13, 2002 Ketchikan, Alaska Date of Hunt: September 1987 Blacktail Articles Index |
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