I need to work on my patience. Bad. Every year (almost) I curse my itchy finger. Spent all morning and half the afternoon walking coulees and not seeing anything but a half dozen does and a spike. Sat in the same spot my son shot his buck out of last week and around dusk a buck appeared. Same buck I'm sure that we saw before he shot his, but was too far out to get a good look at, and no real way to get closer without spooking the one we had close. Besides, bird in the hand and all that. Anyways, he showed up way out there, so we took off to at least get a look at him. Got closer, I figured him for a shooter and we kept going. Smaller buck showed up beside him. We stalked to around 300 yards. I sat down and plunked him through the lungs, he ran in a circle, I shot him again when he faced me strait on. His circle tightened and he crashed, pretty violently. Like he was pizzed, legs tearing up the earth. Took awhile to find our packs we'd dropped on the stalk blush and longer yet to find him. Dressed him out in the very last of the light of the day.

Clean up until we found him, I was convinced he was a toad. Boy, talk about ground shrinkage grin. Still cool though, had another fun stalk with my son, and got a decent deer out of it. The cool thing is he was an old warrior by the looks of it. Lots of grey, and this face was covered in old scars. Decent body size, not BIG, but fair at least. Had a good fat layer too. Wicked brows on him.

Shot with a 22-250, 62 ttsx, enough Varget to get better than 3500 fps.

Jason


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MAGA