Sometime I may write about the details of this hunt in a more formal venue. It was a deeply meaningful adventure and solid challenge. Many aspects of it were good clean fun. It was hot, deer were heading into timber early in the morning, and bucks were bedding deep until just before dark. Saw a good number of folks--at least until the wildfires starting ripping--and an encouraging number of 2.5 and 3.5 year old bucks.

I located on a familiar point for opening morning, with 8 bucks feeding at 150 yds. It was fun to watch them; some of the youngest bucks sparred and played. None were mature and I let them do their thing. Some shots rang out nearby as a separate little 4x4 buck fell, and this group scampered into the cliffs.

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The next morning I left my tent well before light to check out a piece of real estate a couple of basins away. It was a small patch of buck habitat, but textbook and hard to access. A solid buck fed out at 420 yds and presented a shot from where I laid on the ridge above, ridge seen here.

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I finished the job and packed it 1,300' up this ridge to reconnect with my future exit path. Supper and some needed rest followed.

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The next morning I gathered it all up and sat down to wrestle the pack on. As I leaned forward and rolled onto my knees the full weight of the left pack strap found my shoulder joint and separated my shoulder from the socket. I gently shook it and it sucked back up into the join just fine. Thankful for that turn and not a tear, etc., I stood up and took off down the mountain.

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