I moved down the rim, keeping a close eye on the far side, and to a lesser extent, on the close side. Good thing I did, because down canyon I spotted some deer feeding in the sage on my side of the canyon. Higher up the canyon, the near side falls away so steeply that you cannot see much. Here, there was a bench forming downstream, I could just barely see it via a gully that formed to my left. I studied them for a bit and found that one was a buck. I could not see him well, partly due to the distance, so I back up onto the plateau a bit and moved along the rim further. I got to a point where there was some good sage cover, so I moved back to the canyon. I could see them, a bit closer, but decided to move along further. I found a slight gully with good sage cover, so I moved further into the canyon than I had done before. I found the deer, about four, and discovered that two of them were bucks. Then three of them were bucks. Things are improving! I could not see all of them at once, but by leaning one way and then another, I check them out. Not shooters. I backed up the gully and moved along more. I was now slightly down canyon from them, and eased my way over the rim. I saw them off to my right, feeding up towards the gully I had been in, and moving towards the rim. They were rather spread out, with the biggest one the farthest from me. I could not be hidden from all at the same time, and I think a doe must have seen me, because they started to move, not run, not a trot, but move. While I was studying them, I saw movement straight ahead of me, on the far side of the canyon. I looked: it was a bigger buck! While I did not quite get palpitations, I was getting excited. He may have been spooked when the group I was watching moved out, but he was not running like he had spotted me. He seemed that he might be a shooter, so I ranged him: 500 yards. And he was climbing the far hillside, getting further away! My first possible shooter, and he was getting more and more out of range. I suggested to him, in my mind, that the grass was greener over here and that he really did not see anything, and should come back down to the creek bottom. Nothing doing. But he did pause, at about 600 yards, and peer back toward the group to my right. The pause turned into a wait and finally into just standing there. I kept suggesting that he should come back down the hillside, but continued to ignore my pleadings. He was facing away from me, to the left and uphill.

While he was trying to decide if he should continue up to the left, a group of coyotes started up the loudest, longest, noisest racket and yelping I have heard. Good timing, I thought, don't go up there, there's only coyotes. Come back to this side. He turned and took a few steps to his right.

Then some hunters over the ridge and to the right started to fire off shots like they needed to empty their entire magazines right now. I did not count the shots, but I thought: Good timing. Don't do up to the right, there's only hunters over there. Come back to this side.

Unsure of whether to go to the left (coyotes) or right (hunters), but not wanting to come back to this side, he decided to take a break, and laid down, facing left.

Hmmm, I thought. Is he really a shooter or not? I studied him with the spotting scope. Not great mass, but 4 x 4, tines are about 5" or 6", reasonable spread. He turned his head now and again, and gave me a good look. Second to last day, not seen anything better, not as good as two years ago. Heck, he is a shooter. Now for the approach: how the heck was I going to get all the way over there? There was no cover in front of me, and the canyon opened up a bit to the left. If I went back right, a gully or two, I should be able to get over there. I looked at my watch, about 5:00 or so. I would have about an hour and a half of shooting light left. I studied his location, what I would have to cover me if I came at him from his side of the canyon and up-canyon. I thought that I should be a bit higher than he was, and took some bearings on the hillside. If I was about a bit higher than a stony clearing, one good ridge over, I should be looking down on him at about 200 yards. I studied him again, and decided to go for it.

I backed off the canyon, keeping behind a sage. At 600 yards, however, and not looking my way, I thought it was going to be OK. It was, as I studied him at intervals. Still looking left, not moving. I got back onto the plateau, moved further back, and then started to retrace my steps, going up-canyon. The first gully was still exposed, so I went further, to the next one. I could still see him, laying there facing left. But if I could see him, he could see me. I did not like the idea of going even further, but there was no choice. I moved along quickly now, as soon I could not see him. I found a gully that promised cover and started down. I got to the bottom of Waterfall Canyon, crossed the water flowing there, and started up the far side. I took off my hat and stuffed it into one pocket, buttoning it. I took off my scarf and stuffed it into another, buttoning it. (I had learned my lesson.) I kept moving up, slower now, as I was hot and tired. I reached the area of the stony clearing, and took a break. I looked above me, and at the rim quite far ahead, there was a group of does. They were staring at me. I did not worry, as they probably would move back from the canyon, onto the far plateau. I kept moving up the hillside. But these does ( I came to call them the Dumb Does) did not move away from me, but ran slightly toward me and down canyon. Directly at my Shooter! I moved up some more, dropped my pack, and looked to my left. I could just barely see the Shooter across the tops of the sage, still facing away from me. I got out my shooting sticks and moved in a very low crouch, then on all fours. The Dumb Does continued to move down the hillside, splitting up and trotting. I watched in horror as they split and ran, some just above my Shooter and some just below. I knew I did not have much time, and tried to get into position. When I looked up again, he was gone. The Dumb Does were still trotting, now beyond him. Curse you, Dumb Does! Why didn't you just run AWAY, rather than TOWARDS? Why did you have to bracket my Shooter?!?

Then, the Dumb Does must have seen something else, because they reversed direction and started to run back in my direction, but now closer to the canyon bottom, and lower than I was. I got set up again, in case the Shooter accompanied them. But no luck. Dumb Does, no Shooter. I waited there a while, happy I made the stalk and thinking of how many stalks are ruined by incidental deer, showing up at the wrong time and spooking everything on the hillside. Lesson learned.

After a while, with the light level falling, I went back to my pack, put things together, and considered the return walk. I was about 2 miles or maybe less from my SUV, but I had to drop down into Waterfall and hike up the far side. I considered hiking the cowpath up Waterfall and going under the Promentory. I started hiking, and found that I somewhat naturally was going uphill. It was getting dark, but I could just barely see in the stony area below the Promentory. Finally, I made the decision to head straight uphill and come out just east of the Promentory itself. By the time I got to the rim, it was too dark to see for the Sagebrush Sashay, so I got out my new headlight. It worked great for walking, but unlike the daylight, I could not see the horizon or distant hills to get my bearings. I got off track and had to resort to using my GPS's compass. I had not had to do this before. It was easy, and in a while I was on the road to the Corner Post, and from there it was an easy hike along the road to the Washout, my car, and a drive back to camp.

Excitement on the second to last day, a busted stalk, but a good day.

Now to find Mr. Big on the last day...

Sunday, October 14, Day Six (Last Day of Deer Season)