Summary
This was the sixth weekend of a seven weekend season. Unfortunately, it was functionally the last weekend of the season. Bill & Craig were headed to Siskiyou and David was headed to Chicago (annual hand surgery meeting). But it was quite eventful: Craig got one on the bottom of Ronnie's Swale from Prune Ridge Hook, Sandy got one from Sandy's Tree (the North Tree of Hummingbird), shooting toward the ridge separating her from Prune Ridge Swale, David stared down a buck at Bedsprings, and Bill took one from Ronnie's Swale as well. Most left on Sunday afternoon, Bill stayed for the last night.
Craig's Story (not yet submitted, but promised in return for an early lift out)
David's Story
Craig and Sandy did not have all the fun, they just took the shots. I had a bit of adventure.
I walked up the Van Horn on Saturday am. Did not see anything lower down, which was surprising. I was sitting down glassing after full light and sunlight, about 50 yards below Bedsprings and about 20 yards in from the fenceline. There are two ravines between the fence and Bedsprings, both rather steep-sided. The southern one (closer to the fenceline) is the extension of Cabin Creek and the northern one (closer to Bedsprings) is the extension of the ravine that forms about the tubs. It is the same one that is just south of the right-hand bend at the top of Old Camp. I was on the southern edge of the southern ravine, with a good view of the far side, but the steepness of the near side prevented me from seeing much on that side near the bottom of the ravine.
Glassed the area, then turned my attention to the turkeys, which I could see way below on North Flat. After sitting there about 4 minutes, there was a loud snort just downhill and to my left, about 50 ft away, beyond some poison oak that was so thick I could not see through it. I could hear the deer bound off, and I dropped my binocs and swung up the rifle, taking off the safety. When he hit the far side of the ravine, my heart rate increased precipitously: it was a large buck. He was quite high and quite wide: well beyond the ears. He had a great shape: the bases were flat and the forks went up straight, the antler shape I like best. He was gone before I could get the scope on him, much less take a shot. But boy, was I excited! I could see over to Bobcat Ridge, so I moved to a place where I could see and also have a rest, but he never showed.
That evening, I wanted to see if I could find him again. Bill wondered if it would bother me if he drove to the top. I certainly did not object, as that meant I could get a ride up! I was not sure where to sit, or if I should walk or what. Bill suggested that the road 50 ft beyond Bobcat gave a good view of the ridges along the Van Horn, so he dropped me off there.
We started out quite a bit earlier than we usually do out, probably 5 pm. I checked out the views once Bill dropped me off. The rangefinder was telling me stuff I did not like: the nearest shot was 380 yards, and some of the clearings were 450 yards. Not the best beginning, esp for me. I decided after about 5 minutes that this was not a good idea, and felt that I should head towards Bedsprings and find a good place, either at Bedsprings (the tree at the edge of the road where it first makes a right hand turn, going uphill, gives a good view) or over at either of the ravines. The powdery dirt made for very quiet walking, and I hunted as I walked slowly. In about 5 min, I was just a bit past the wet spot in the road, but had not yet gotten to the bit of road just prior to Bedsprings. Off to my left, downhill of the road, there was movement just beyond a group of 6" diggers, 50 yards away (later checked by laser). There he was, sitting down, looking at me.
My binocs came up, and he stood up and turned to look at me. He had me dead to rights: I was silouetted against the roadbank, broad daylight, no cover near me at all. I froze and he froze, and there we both froze. He was big and wide, with fairly good forks, about 6 inches or so. But the forks weren't spectacular and he did not have much mass. He was not quite what I had expected him to be, or or what I thought I had seen when he bolted that morning. I guess he was just not quite what I had in my mind, or had made him out to be in my mind. He was not Mr Big, he was just a big, wide, high fork. He just didn't excite me, the way he did that morning. I decided not to take him.
Craig had told the tale of out-staring Mr BigWide down on the Van Horn in broad daylight, and I figgered if Craig could stare down a buck, so could I. I resolved to just stay frozen until he blinked.
Shadows crept up the hillside. I wished I could check my watch, but the deer had such a sharp watch on me it was out of the question. Why can't another deer come along right now and distract him? Where is a noisy blue jay or a pesky squirrel when you need them? I decided to speak to management about that. Shift weight, muscles ache. Tell muscles it won't be long now, but I am not quitting this staring contest. I looked at the antlers again, partly hidden by the digger. I could see his left side, not his right. Nice big fork, much higher than his ears. Nice wide spread, much wider than his ears. Definitely the biggest I had seen at the Ranch in a while. But he just did not excite me. No mass, not quite the trophy I had envisioned. No, I might regret it later, but I decided again that I was going to pass this one up. He kept staring at me.
Through the 10X binocs, at 50 yards, I could see his bulging eyes and his alert ears. When is he going to decide to either run or look away? Move a bit, let some blood flow to the heel. Shift again, blood to the toes. Ache, ache, ache. But I am not going to quit. He kept staring at me. I don't know the time, but I am going to guess it was 30 minutes before he uncocked his ears, then cocked them again. At least the end was near! My aching leg muscles were not sure how much more of this they could take. There was a shot (Craig at Prune Ridge Hook), he looked in the direction, but only for a second or two, then back to me. A few minutes, maybe 15, later, another shot (Sandy, Hummingbird, although I did not know it at the time), did not even look, although this report was less loud. Shift weight off the left leg, slightly bend the knee, take the stress off for a moment, but don't fall over. Shift, shift, again shift. He kept staring at me.
Finally, I could see that he was looking in my direction, but not at me. The shadows were climbing the wall, as were my muscles. Shift weight. Left knee aching, move a bit to the right, slow so he would not notice, put more weight there, then shift back. Was the first shot Craig? Sandy? Was that a followup coup de grace, or did they both shoot? Did they have anything down? My muscles were killing me, but I was not going to blink. If Craig could stare one down, so could I. I lowered the binocs just a bit, so I could see him directly. There was a bit of digger in front of him, and a bit of dead oak branch 20 feet in front of me sticking up from a downed trunk, so the line of sight was slightly broken up. I noticed the oak trunk on the ground in front of me might hide me. If I ever got a chance, I could lower myself down, and possibly drop out of sight. Finally he looked downhill, then back at me, then near me but not me. The end was near! I could move soon! Then he did move, but not the way I expected.
Rather than walk off, or turn in another direction, or start feeding with head down and so give me a chance to move, no: he dropped down into his bed, and kept looking at me. NOT FAIR! I wanted to win this staring contest, but now HE got to rest and I was stuck standing up! NOT FAIR! The minutes dragged on, the mucles ached, but I was not going to blink. In time, however, he glanced away. I wiggled a bit to my left, which put one of the diggers between us. I slowly dropped down, and luckily the oak trunk was big enough to hide me.
He did not seem to observe that I was moved, or gone, and just stared downhill. He rested for about 20 minutes, then abruptly got up and walked uphill and away from me, heading in the direction of Holmes'.
I do not know the time of this staring contest, but we started very early, about 5 pm. Both Craig and Sandy shot, about 7 pm, and it became dark as I walked back to the cabin. No meat in the freezer, but at 50 yards, I think I outstared one of the biggest bucks I have seen at the Ranch. I don't think anyone got a better workout than I did on this hunt.
No shots fired, but I think I had this buck.
Bill's Story
I stayed in for the evening hunt-- had to give the season one last shot.