Controlled Hunt - Unit 18

Terry had a Controlled Hunt Tag - Mule Deer - Unit 18.  I felt somewhat obligated to help him fill it, since he applied for the tag somewhat in collaboration with - or at least in the excitement of - my applying for a Mountain Goat tag in the Seven Devils.  As it turned out, I wanted to pull my Mountain Goat out before the snow would fly and close the road (and before his hunt) ... and the boundary of his hunt unit took him just outside the main area I was hunting for goats.  The opening week of deer season Terry and his brother hunted high.  Terry had gathered serious intelligence, and had done some scouting himself.  The locals said hunt high, and where.  But after the first week they had seen only does and a four point but-by-no-means-trophy buck.  Now we were coming into the last few days of the season.  He also helped me pack out my goat ... it was `the least I could do'.

The weather turned cold as the last weekend approached.  We drove to Riggins Friday evening and got one of the last motel rooms in town.  Good thing - it was COLD.  Saturday morning, daybreak, we drove up to the Seven Devils, to hunt high. 

 

Left: Seven Devils Mountains, November 1, skiff of snow, temp. well below zero.

We spotted a 3-point buck and some smaller bucks from the road and got some video footage. 

We hunted above the road from MP 15 down.  I got some good (I think) footage of some does and fawns, still pictured below left.  The terrain was beautiful, and though cold, the weather tolerable, with the intense sun and little wind.  Terry was told that there were good bucks above the road in the fingers of timber going up above timberline to the draws. 

 

But we couldn't find `em. 

We hunted until about 2 pm and then I went back for the truck, and Terry hunted on to MP 12.  By now the sun was near setting.  Once split up I was serious about getting back to the truck - the thought of spending the night in the woods at below zero temperatures was `chilling'.  I jumped two small muley bucks in a likely spot - and continued on.

 

Saturday night we dropped down about 4000 ft and spent the night in the woods.  Some cloud cover came in, warming things up a bit - but still well below freezing.  Two sleeping bags did the trick if I kept them both covering me. 

Sunday morning we hunted some typical looking `muley' country out on the breaks.  The wind was up - making it cold out in the wind, and putting the game in the draws and lower country.
  We jumped numerous small bucks and worked our way to a group of six deer about a mile out that had perhaps one decent buck in it. 

In one draw one buck just lay and watch us as we put crosshairs on him and dry fired.  We then circled above him, as close as 80 yards, and at some locations rolling rocks to see if we could kick he and others out.  He didn't budge.  (Well, if it didn't work for him -why would it work for others?)  The only thing the buck moved the whole time was his head, which rotated about 180 degrees as we side-hilled around, in search of others. (Just as well - why spook him and he spook others.)
  We came around into the canyon where we calculated the deer would be.  The deer would be in a patch of brush in the draw about 150 yards below us.  The wind was at our back.  I knew it would be only a matter of minutes before the eddying wind would take our scent down to the patch - and out they would come.

And out they did ... 3 bucks and 3 does.  One buck was fairly nice.  They were spooked and moving away fast.  Terry asked me if he should take the biggest one - I reminded him that there wasn't much season left, and he steadied his gun on the biggest one.

Terry was shooting a 257 Roberts and I was at about 15 min. less than 3-o'clock on his right.  I want to be at at least `3:15' before the gun roared, so I hurriedly scooted back.  When it did [roar] he hit the buck a bit back - underestimating the range a bit.  The buck went on - but it was a lethal shot - as any hit with that round would be. 

As the buck stopped, so did all but one of the other deer.  They milled around as Terry's buck bled, rolled down the hill, and died.  We determined the range to be about 600 yards. 

My ears range for the rest of the day.
  We boned the deer out and came out.  We were about 2 miles in. 

As the day progressed we watched the snow hit first Council Mountain, then the mountains around McCall and the Seven Devils peaks.  It was an incredible November day.  Winter was on its way to the high country.
     
  Patrick Butte in the distance on Saturday afternoon.