Yesterday I was out attempting to convert a mulie into burger. About sunrise, I spotted a beauty with 2 does about 1/4 mile away. He was across a draw from me, in the process of dropping down into heavy brush to bed for the day. I watched as they moved down about 100 yds and laid down. Ok, how to approach in that mess. I picked out a large bent-over quakie for a marker. They were maybe 75 yards to one side of it. Then I had a long hike from my ridge to theirs. By the time I got there, the sun was full up and the thermals were very much in my favor. This wasn't going to be easy in a mass of mahogany, quakies, and other tangled up stuff. I shucked my pack, boots, and hat. It was going to be all hands and knees. It took me about 30 min to work my way down to the tree I'd marked. When I got to it, I headed toward the deer. I'd gone about 20 of the 75 yards when the plan went to hell. He didn't have 2 does with him. He had 4, and 2 of them were staring me in the face from less than 20 yards. It was too far to pack him out of there anyway.
Dick
