The start of one amazing adventure

“There’s a buck!” Uncle Scott said, “ I think it’s a shooter!”

What happened next was a mad scramble for bows, releases and rangefinders, as our once well-organized gear became strewn about the ground.

The buck walked a mere 20 yards away from the outskirts of camp, watching us with an amused look on his face, his perfectly symmetrical 2x2 rack sticking out like a billboard saying ‘better luck next year!’

Having been in camp only 15 minutes, we all found this little guy pretty amusing and dubbed him “Leroy,” as he sauntered to the shade of a Sitka spruce only 20 yards from camp. The amused look on his face never left as he bedded and commenced watching us gathering our gear that had been thrown haphazardly around.

This was the start of our 2011 wilderness hunt.

Fresh off the excitement of having a “camp deer” and wanting to get a feel for the area, I quickly unpacked the rest of my gear and dawned my camo. Pete was the first to comment: so you’re going on a Jameson walk? It should be noted that a ‘Jameson walk’ has become synonymous over the years as either being filled with a. close encounters, or b. a successful harvest of an animal. Just the mere utterance means that something odd may happen.

This ran through my head as I eased my bow back down from full-draw. I had been working through the clearings near camp in hope that a mule deer or bear would take full advantage of the full moon phase and head for the open meadows. With the light fading quickly I progressed into the final clearing near camp.

Entering the opening I noticed the gray hind end of a deer not 20 yards to my left, half-obscured by berry plants. Quickly nocking an arrow I peered through the brush, looking for the signs of a shooter buck but all my binoculars showed was the perfect 2x2 rack of good old Leroy.

Another flash of gray caught my eye, as a deer fed away from the meadow to my right. Adjusting my Leupold binoculars once more I focused on another buck. He was a small-framed 3x3 with a small sliver of velvet hanging down on one side of his rack. My rangefinder flashed 34 yards, as he quartered away from me, his head lodged in the foliage.

Coming to draw, I settled my glowing sight pins behind the bucks shoulder blade. It was at this point a strange thing happened: I second-guessed myself. Easing my bow back down, still undetected, I thought of the 15 days of hunting yet to come and the realization that I had only been in the backcountry for a mere 5 hours and was about to release an arrow.

“Never pass up a buck on the first day that you would be happy to harvest on the last day,” was what Uncle Scott had told me not two hours before. ‘He’s right’ I thought to myself, as I eased my bow back, once again settling my pins on the buck, easing into my shot sequence.

In a flash my broadhead tipped arrow was in flight, contacting the exact point I had aimed for, connecting with a “CRACK!” The buck immediately sprinted for cover, lunging several times and crashing to the ground a mere 30 yards from the point of contact.

An incredible sense of relief rushed over me, as I replayed what had just transpired, pleased with the fact I had made a clean, ethical shot and would be able to fill my freezer with some amazing venison.

As we hung the buck in camp Uncle Scott, Pete, Rick and I joked about being in camp only five hours and having a 3x3 Mule deer down, and how it was sure to be the start of one amazing adventure. Little did we know what the very next day had in store…

Breaking the archery mold

In the ever-changing world of archery, whether your focus is toward tournament archery, hunting or you just love the 'release' of shooting your bow, it can be easy to find yourself becoming comfortable with a routine.

Since taking up the sport of archery I have found myself suffering from the stagnate feeling of routine. This became painful evident when friends started referring to my opening day hunting plans as "going back to your good ole' stomping grounds." This signaled to me that I need to break from away from the mold, so when my good friend and hunting partner Pete Joers offered the chance to join him on an epic drop-camp wilderness hunt I jumped at the opportunity.

It is a common for hunting stories to involve months of preparation, training and the days to crawl by as the much-anticipated trip nears. This story is no different as running, backpacking, and gear-refining took on an nearly manic approach.

I was not the only one affected by the upcoming event. Pete took this adventure as an opportunity to revitalize his life, shedding over 30 pounds and diving into the wilderness every chance he got. Connecting with each other between our off season excursions and comparing notes on gear while going over and over stories of the past season became commonplace, further fueling the fire.

I would like to present my hunting adventure as the days passed, giving a blow-by-blow account of what transpired as well as telling the road that led to such an amazing start to the 2011 archery season.

Like most hunters I prefer to know the area that I will be spending my time--in this case 15 days--wandering around. This entails bonsai scouting trips throughout the month of August as the late snow finally receded from my areas. This also meant that trips would serve a double purpose: scouting and bear hunting!

Snow has a strange effect on bear. This is attributed to the high country berries either taking up to a month longer to ripen or, as the National Forest ranger stated, not growing at all. This seemed to be a reoccurring theme throughout the state as my three-day weekends turned into a frustrating search for a bear.

Areas that, historically, held up to six bear on one hillside, at one time, were suddenly devoid of life. The lack of bear made my choice to scout my elk area that much easier to stomach, as I trudged up the trail in the hot summer sun. Accessing elk country has never been so crowded, I surmised, as I passed several groups along my route. It was in between swatting trophy-sized mosquitos, wiping sweat from my brow and dodging horseback riders that things started to get interesting.

I had just completely ate shit on my mountain bike--making sure to strategically land face-first to avoid buggering up my bow on my pack--and decided it was in my best interest to proceed from here on foot. Not a quarter mile from the scene of the crash did I come face-to-face with a black bear who was equally surprised to see me.

Rounding a bend in the trial, I had been admiring a rock formation that was dissected by the trail when I glance into a chest high mountain blueberry patch and noticed a 200-pound bear staring right at me. The bears surprise was evident as I--in plain view--proceeded to drop my pack, unhook my bow, strap on my release and open a pocket to get out my rangefinder. These are all points that I have stressed to others in the past: always have your gear on while hunting! So of course one of the few times I disregard my own rules it come back to bite me--not literally.

Ranging the bear at 28 yards but having no shot due to the hard quartering-to angle, we continued our stare down, that is until a man with two horses rounded the bend immediately to my right, sending the bear into a frenzy in the opposite direction.

The gentleman must have seen my adrenaline-riddled look when he asked, "have you seen anything yet?" I smiled and told him about what had just transpired and he apologized over and over which I still don't understand because, hey, crap happens and it was awesome anyways! So it was back on the trail in search of the next random adventure. This time my bow was in hand and my release securely attached.

The rest of my scouting trip was not quite as eventful and can be summarized like this:

*82 (number counted, there were more) mosquito bites

*only minor lacerations and bruises from my bike crash, no damage to my bow either, thank goodness

*1 more bear within 30 yards. It was only about 60 pounds, which got my blood pumping wondering where momma bear might be!

*20 miles covered with 4,000 feet of elevation gain

*No elk spotted or heard

*One mule deer

*One amazing night of camping under a true wilderness sky.

Oh, did I mention the mosquitos? EVERYWHERE!