Lani and I notch tags

This is the last of a three-part series about the 2012 deer-hunting season.

On Tuesday morning of the 2012 Modern Firearm deer-hunting season, my hunting partner, Lani Schorzman and I watched as four legal bucks bedded down in tall sagebrush about 500 yards from our position. Lani suggested a plan to surprise the bucks and drop one or two.

We gathered equipment and proceeded outdoors to execute the plan. The wind was in our favor, in our face, as we headed to where we thought they were. But they were no where to be found. Using hand gestures, we headed back toward the highest sagebrush group, which were six or more feet high. 

Suddenly four deer heads appeared, all with antlers. Lani was to my right, and three of the bucks were in a close group in front of him. Because of the sagebrush and the close proximity of the deer, he couldn't get off a clear shot.

The buck in front of me was also mostly hidden in sagebrush. All four deer busted from cover. Mine headed over the hill to the south, but I didn't see the others again and neither did Lani.

I headed to the edge of the sagebrush to find a legal buck looking back at me from the bottom of the hill about 175 yards away. The angle was steep and my view was more at the animal's back rather than his side.

I aimed just behind the right shoulder and to the right of the backstrap. The buck dropped at the report of the rifle. The bullet broke four ribs on the right side and traveled through a lung, not touching the backstrap.

Lani made a sweep for the other animals as I tagged and dressed my buck. It was what I call a 5- by 3-point, meaning there were 4-points and an eye guard on one side, and 3-points on the other.

The pickup arrived and we loaded the deer and drove to the shop where it was skinned, washed and stored in a cool place until butchering would take place the following week.

We decided not to shoot a doe until the last day of the season, Sunday, Oct. 21. This could be a risky proposition, as sometimes does appear throughout the week, but seem to disappear on the last day. Still we stuck to the plan.

Sunday was pleasant, compared to the windy days earlier in the week. Lani and I hunted west from The Hut finding nothing during the first half mile. Then we turned north for a couple hundred yards, circled west again, and then south.

As we topped a rise, a herd of doe jumped from the flat below. Most of the animals headed to the left, but one took a few steps to the right and stopped. Lani fired and she took off running full blast. She disappeared over a small rise. But a cloud of dust appeared and we knew she was down.

The animal was tagged and dressed. Afterward, we headed for the pickup. No deer were encountered during the mile hike to the truck.

But as we were driving to the turning point, which would take us to the deer, another herd of doe was spotted heading east on huntable land.

"I'll take you to the end of the property and you can hunt back this way," Lani said, with the possibility I might encounter the animals.

We drove another 200 yards toward the gate and another herd of 15 doe jumped from the right side of the road.

I stepped out of the truck, loaded the .30-06 and found a large doe looking at me from 75 yards away. A neck shot put her down. After I tagged and dressed the animal, we picked up the first doe as the second one was cooling.

After both were skinned, washed and placed next to the deer already hanging, we headed to private ground to dispose of the hide and legs.

"Ya know," I said to Lani, "we still have about 45 minutes until the close of the season."

"Yeah, but fat chance we'll find a legal buck," He said.

We drove to the south, spooking a dozen doe along the way, and then headed north, finally taking a left to head west. We spotted two deer at the edge of a winter wheat field on my side of the pickup. I scoped them with the binocular.

"They're bucks and the one on the left is a legal 3-point," I said.

I recognized the three points as an unusual and strange arrangement of antler points. This was one of the bucks I had been watching all week in the stubble field at 600 yards.

Lani exited the truck, loaded his rifle, dropped to one knee, aimed and fired. The animal was downed. 

The week-long hunt had been positive. Four out of six tags were notched. Three of those tags filled on the last day of the season. At least one of the remaining two tags most likely would have been filled if Thomas had not been called to standby-surgeon duty on the Coast.

Our successful hunt was not measured by the number of tags filled, but rather by the friendship and camaraderie experienced and enjoyed. Still those venison steaks are going to taste good this winter.