Some years ago, I badly sprained an ankle just before deer season. Hunting was difficult at best but it did have it's entertainment value....
The road ended on top of a long ridge. We parked near several other vehicles and I, along with my sister, hobbled along the ridge to its end where I planned to spend the day sitting. Her husband went elsewhere and would meet us there a few hours later.
While sitting, we watched this unfold: One of the other rigs parked near us was a group of 4 men. One of them dropped WAY down off the steep ridge and shot a big buck. He came back up and found the other 3. They spent all afternoon dragging the deer up the ridge. We could hear them talking and cussing down below us for several hours and could see them occasionally in the sagebrush.
After they got it to the top, my BIL showed up so we hobbled back to the truck. We looked at their deer and congratulated him on a nice buck (it certainly WAS nice!) and left. We'd watched it all from a different vantage point. We just didn't have the heart to tell them that from where we sat, we could see a road and several camp trailers parked within 200 yds below where he shot it. His buddies would have killed him.
