The Freezer Is Full

Urban Outcast Music #41 - Daylight by Mandolin Orange
Due to calendar quirks, the modern rifle deer season was getting off to its latest start in many years. Not sure if they were messing with my head but locals were telling me to keep the powder dry until the end of the season when the big bucks would be migrating out of the mountains (shown above). The season is only 11 days so I nodded along but it is going to be a few more years before I could even imagine passing on a legal deer... especially because the young ones are so tasty.
Day 1: The Wrong Antlers
Our opening day was not the peaceful, quiet mountain experience that you might expect. The local dirt bike club was hosting a rally on the kitty corner parcel but was kind enough to warn me so we posted Jerm to watch for the swarms of deer that would be fleeing the two stroke racket. I headed back to where we started the 2019 season with just a chipmunk to keep me company while I watched over the empty hillside for three hours. From his perch, Jerm spotted a big bull elk making his rounds but not a single deer.
Plan two was for me to move to a stand we put in over the summer that would let me keep an eye on the country on the other side of the ridge I had confirmed was empty many times over. Jerm was going to drop down in the national forest and try sneaking around another escape route from the bikers. 
The picture evidence was promising, a legal buck and a bull had been caught on the camera below the stand the night before.
From my perch I pretty quickly heard the crunching of branches and got to see a big bull elk of my own walking down the road. Probably would have had some good pictures/video if I hadn't just walked down the same road. His nose was already on the ground and he took a hard turn into the brush at 40 yards. Right around the same time Jerm was stalking his bull elk in the national forest. Not sure why they found our area interesting, between us someone was hunting for 7 of the 11 days and we never saw a cow elk.
Deluxe seating looking out over the hills is not a bad way to spend the afternoon but I only lasted a few hours. No sign of the quarry from the ground either but I did find an old mountain lion kill drug under the brush (1 of 2 on this trip) and a bird nest. The lions had a good spring/summer before moving on to munch somebody else's deer.
Back at the trucks for the night I learned that Jerm had run into two bucks near dusk. Unknown stats on the wiser one but the second buck stopped to stare him down within lethal range of a well thrown rock. He was a legal 3pt due to his fork rack and big eye guards. I wasn't clear on the status of eye guards but Jerm was, and he still let the buck walk. I respected his choice then and I am even more in awe of his restraint the longer I think about it. 

Day 2:
Back into the chair to watch the sunrise for Day 2. Worked great until the sun rose over the knob, straight into my face. With no movement, we tried to mix it up with a coordinated walk around either side of the knobs, meeting on the backside where Jerm saw the bucks the previous night. Along the way I found some death berries that further research has led me to believe might be blue elderberries and not fatal after all, unless eaten before they are ripe. Still a little suspicious about something the chipmunks and birds don't touch but going to try jamming it next fall.
Once we rendezvoused on top I still hadn't seen a deer and decided to break my own rule about keeping the prime deer bedding areas off-limits. We were going to work down the draw between the knobs to check for either sign or lounging critters. 
Once we got into the flatter ground we split up and things immediately went sideways. I heard a deer stand up and snort at short range, maybe 50 yards. The powerful snort and the fact that it was solo immediately had me thinking big buck. I was in thick brush but I knew Jerm was out in the open, just to my right. To the left are boulder fields so I'm thinking Jerm has a good chance if the deer spooks gently. As I tried to stalk in very slowly, I got a couple more snorts and it stotted out of there. No sound of a shot or shout had me confused and when I got clear of the brush, there was no Jerm to be seen. Turns out I had made multiple mentor mistakes - assuming Jerm would try to stay parallel with me and that he would hear/recognize deer snorts/movements for what they were. That buck came bolting out of the woods and passed behind him within 20 yards but by that time had a full head of steam. We tracked him for a couple hundred yards but never caught sight of him.
The rest of the day passed without any drama or critters.
Day 3(+):
Nothing going on in the morning. Too much beautiful weather for a good deer hunt and I had to head home in time to make the daycare pickup. Jerm would stay another couple days without luck. But don't feel bad for him, he got to do a Montana hunt and came home with a buck almost as good as mine.
Day 10:
Snow! Might have been ideal to be up on Saturday/Sunday and following along behind some fresh tracks but daycare didn't want the kiddos for the weekend. Monday was still looking promising, especially on north facing slopes which still held 3-4". I spent the day surveying the boundaries of my plot and the adjacent national forest to get a sense of the traffic. Saw a good number of tracks and most were coming out into the cut areas to feed and heading back into the off-limits DNR trees (probably all at night). Amazing how just getting the chance to follow tracks and that chill in the air had me feeling like my luck had turned. Even got to see a couple does and their yearlings.
Day 11:
The last day of the season and my original plan for the day was out the window due to thick fog. Second plan of a slow stalk to the knobs turned out to be flawed too as the soil had frost heaved. Anyways, I think that's the term, it felt like to trying to creep across inverted icicles. What I thought was a 20 min hike turned into an hour and a half of me not fooling any critter with ears.  
Once the fog lifted there were spectacular views and I lost focus in the search for the best angles.
Working across the face of the hill taking pictures turned out to be an astute hunting move. I was getting ready to sit down, soak up the views, and wait for the ground to soften a little bit when a buck decided he couldn't wait any longer and jumped up about 80 yards to my left of the last photo above. He stopped after a little bit to investigate but was shielded from me by a few of the trees he had bedded under. I got the backpack on the ground and the gun settled just in case he moved in a helpful direction.
I got lucky and he turned right (unlike that sneaky lion last year that went left in about the same spot) and I had a 180 yard shot. I hear stories of people hearing the bullet hit home or seeing where it struck but my eyes/ears must not be up to the task so when he presented another broadside I tried again. Turns out either shot would have been fatal (one nicked the heart, the other ruined my plan to try deer liver) and I saw him come sliding to rest a minute or two later.
A mature three point with the swollen neck of a buck ready for the upcoming rut, and he tastes like it too. Not overpowering, more a scent than a taste, but by far the "gamiest" critter I have brought home since high school.
It was a lot of work as I'm not sure I could have gotten farther and higher from a road at any other point on the property but I got him quartered and back to the truck in a couple trips. Even made it home in time for daycare pickup (+2 father points, very minor dent in the debt that builds up every fall).

Programming Note - I promise that is the last major time commitment for 2020 catchup posts. I have still to report on fishing, bird chasing, and winter hiking but I'll keep them short.