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When I was a kid and my dad had his store there was an old timer named Herman who came in every day to drink coffee and visit with the other old farmers. Every fall Herman, knowing we loaded up and headed to CO to hunt every year, would come in and say to Dad, “ bout time for you boys to hit the mountains and chase them Mule Tails isn’t it?”.

Herman has long since gone to his reward but we still head to the mountains every fall and if we’re lucky enough to draw a tag we get to chase mule deer, or as Dad and I always joke “mule tails”.

This year both my Dad and I were lucky enough to draw a buck tag for our “home” unit in SWCO during the 3rd rifle season. Two great family friends from NM, also a father and son the same age as Dad and I had drawn buck tags too. Two of my uncles and one cousin ponied up for OTC bull tags as well. So the Wednesday before season we had our big tent, stoves, wheelers, firewood, bunks, and whatever other various gear, plus enough groceries for 14 men for 10 days packed into two trucks and trailers and it was wagons west at 6:30AM when I got off my last night shift.

After a thankfully uneventful 12 hour drive we arrived in the nearest town to our camp, got a room and ate a burger before doing the last minute shopping and heading for the racks.

Thursday morning saw us up and at them early hitting the McD’s for a quick breakfast before pointing the rigs towards the mountain. Camp went up in a reasonable amount of time, we’ve all done this so many times it’s almost second nature. Kitchen was built with stoves and countertops leveled. Bunks bolted up and tied together for sturdiness after a bit of shimming the get everything plumb. Me and my cousin did a complete overhaul and rebuild of the outhouse behind the tent, the 25 year old lumber for the seat frame was a little weathered and could have been a disaster if it were to collapse.

Back in the late 60’s or early 70’s Grandad and his buddy bought a surplus generator for cheap that didn’t have an engine. They built a frame for it and a Briggs 10hp engine to sit in along with matching pulleys and a fan belt thinking they’d have electric lights in the tent instead of gas lanterns. Well it got jettisoned after one year because it sounded like Don Garlitz in Swamprat 5 out behind the tent and it was hard starting in the cold.

Due to advancement in quiet generator and LED tech in the last 55 years we decided to try the electric lights again this year. I bought 4 2k lumen 48” LED shop lights from Lowe’s for $18 each and my uncle volunteered his 2500W quiet generator. Holy Smokes! We could see to read or play dominoes or whatever one might need good light for in the tent. The little genset used about a quart of fuel a day and was very quiet because it would power the lights at low idle in ECO mode.

Friday before opening day we cut some more wood. Zeroed a suspect rifle that had been banged in transit. Fiddled with odds and sods around camp and caught up with family we only see for these two weeks a year. After supper we did as we always do and played dominoes in shifts between packing lunches, telling tales of old times past, and making game plans for the opener. When we shut down the little generator we listened to the familiar hiss of the one gas light we plumbed in for emergency or maybe old time’s sake and the crackle of the big iron stove as we all slipped into our bunks. My Grandmom always said we spent 6 months getting ready and making plans for the trip and the 6 months after we got back getting ready to make plans and get ready for the trip. She was probably right and here we were back again.

That’s what it’s all about; great story!
There is a special bond between hunting buddies be they family or friend.
Please post up the results of the hunt as well.

Fancy!
In ways I envy the comfortable camps with camaraderie.

99% of the time I am in my pup tent by myself or if road based, sleeping in the front seat of the pickup.

Good on you all for keeping that tradition going.

Opening day we were up and at it by 5:30. Two eggs apiece, two bacons and a sausage patty, plus two biscuits a man. Hot thick coffee and maybe a cup of OJ and we were out the door and headed to our chosen spots.

Dad and I decided to go to “The Big Green Ridge”, a long finger of dark timber that winds down off the mountain and out towards the low country. It’s my favorite place to still hunt if I’m holding a deer tag and there’s almost always a big buck somewhere down it. Seeing him long enough to get a shot can be problematic but he’s usually there somewhere. Well as we snuck down the ridge to the first place we could look off down into the creek bottom 600 yards away there he was, a nice 26” 4x4. Problem was the two guys who had come in from the opposite end and up the bottom who were giving back slaps as they dressed him out and prepared for the drag to the nearest wheeler road. Oh well, they were there in the dark and had made a good shot an a nice buck when it got light and finished earning him with what must have been a tough drag.

We continued on easing down the ridge, stopping to glass ahead or peak into openings showing sheltered pockets and meadows as we went. Plenty of deer everywhere we looked, just no bucks big enough to be interesting. We sat in the sun in some big open timber with a good view and had Ramen noodles and a Coke for lunch, followed by the mandatory 30 minute nap afterwards, how those rocks and pine needles are so comfortable I don’t know but I’ve taken my best ever naps on some mountainside after a sack lunch.

Second day we decided to hunt lower due to the dry conditions. Most all of the water holes and guzzlers were bone dry this year. The grass and acorns were in good shape, I’d guess due to the snowmelt in the spring. But the trails and area in general were very dry and dusty. Every evening we all looked like we’d been working in a mineshaft when we’d come in and get a good look at ourselves in the good light we had in the tent.

We spent most of the day looking over small bucks and plenty of does. Almost every doe seemed to have twins with her this year with several having triplets, good news after the dire reports of winter kill in many areas.

As we were heading back at sundown I told dad I was going to sneak down a little ridge we call the “Phone Booth” as the head of it is one of the few places we get any service and we’ll usually get up there every few days to call home and check on everyone back in civilization. There’s a nice little saddle a ways down the ridge where 3 cuts come together and there’s usually a deer there at sometime or another during the day. I could make it to there in about 10 minutes and watch another 10 before legal shooting time was up. Dad said to go ahead and he was going to beat it for camp to check on the progress of the camp cook since it was ham night. So I shouldered my pack and rifle and started sneaking down to have a look see.

No sooner had I reached the saddle than I looked to the north side of one of the feeder draws and I noticed a deer with its head down feeding. I was immediately struck by the size of its body and knew it had to be a big buck but it had its head down in the oak brush. As I looked through my binos I saw a pretty good fork what looked like way out in front of where it’s head should be and a matching one on the other side. I knew that he must be at least a big 3x and decided I had probably better get the gun up. As I steadied the crosshairs on his chest he lifted his head clear of the brush and I knew then it was time to flip the switch. As the 165 Sierra from my 1955 30/06 FW found the mark he crow hopped at least 4 feet straight up before crashing down in a heap. As I made my way across the 60 yards separating us he seemed to grow. No he probably won’t make the book, but he’s certainly the best mule deer I’ve ever tagged and has mass like I’ve rarely seen in the bucks and sheds I’ve handled over the years. Like most times I’m around a mature mulie, I was blown away by his size, nearly 3x the size of a big whitetail buck around home.

Knowing after about 6 feet of dragging that I wasn’t getting him out whole on my own I radioed to see if anyone from our gang was still up the hill and was glad when my uncle and one of our New Mexico camp mates said they were heading my way. Soon they were there to offer me congrats and help skid the old fellow the 250 yards out to the wheeler trail so we could load him up and get back before all the ham was gone. As we slid him onto the rack on my borrowed Honda Recon we had a laugh when the flashlight illuminated the warning sticker on the rear cargo rack. “Warning this rack rated for not more than 66lb of cargo”. I think we maybe exceeded it by a hair but I’ve hauled more than one entire quartered elk on that little rig and knew it would be no trouble. As we putted down the trail headed for camp here came Dad figuring either someone broke down or we were packing meat, he said they’d held off on supper but we’d best beat feet, that ham was calling!

Very nice, grats, Kid

Great story, thanks for sharing.

The next day I helped with breakfast and hung around camp to get the meat pole up and get the deer moved from a stob in a bullpine we’d hung him on over to the pole and get him skinned.

Everyone the night before had offered me congratulations on a nice buck and encouraged me to get a shoulder mount done. I was due for a good one we decided, my last big mule tail was 21 years ago and the only other animal I’ve ever had taxidermied.

Still on the fence the next day I went ahead and caped him out knowing I could change my mind and go euro if I cheaped out but wouldn’t be able to go the other direction without paying for a cape.

The next few days I split time between hanging around camp visiting with my oldest uncle who wasn’t hunting this year due to some very serious health issues that we all hope he’s over but he hasn’t fully regained his strength and accompanying my dad as he tried to fill his buck tag. Two of the days Uncle even came out with me and Dad for a hike to look for sheds and soak up some sun, we hiked him almost 5 miles one afternoon and it was great to see him getting after it.

On bean night I made scratch cornbread in the big iron skillet. And our Wonderful New Mexico mom sent up not one but two homemade peach cobblers that we put in the oven a couple nights and ate ourselves into agony for dessert.

One evening as I watched a little water hole with Dad a pretty decent 4x4 popped out for an instant but not really long enough to look him over and make a solid call before he slipped off into the brush. Just as he went out of sight a doe appeared and then scooted into the brush like she’d been hit with a hotshot. Right one her heels a huge 3x3 came by with his nose on the ground. He had good front forks and giant daggers on the back, easily 18” tall. I said “ Dad you need to shoot him” but he was gone in an instant. Just as quickly the doe shot back through the opening and here he came back! This time he stopped broadside and looked our way. He was big bodied and his neck looked big around as a 5 gallon can. And those huge dagger tines on the back sticking way up there, but he might have been 18” wide, way inside his ears. Having killed plenty of big bucks and it being pretty early in the hunt yet Dad gave him a pass, but it was still pretty cool to see a unique buck like that.

Elk were tough to come by. As I said above it was dry as a bone and I think we had some spillover of guys who changed areas after the winter kill up north. Opening morning my uncle ran into 14 guys up on the high tops including an outfitter with a 10 horse string and 5 hunters. My cousin did get into elk a couple times and I saw one from a couple miles away for a few minutes but as far as I know none came out of our normal stomping grounds. Same cousin was the elk magnet this year also saw 4 or 5 good bucks and a black bear.

I did a looping “drive” using the wind to try to flank a buck we knew to be in the area and let him smell me as Dad covered his escape route and it worked to perfection. Except I drove a bear right by him instead of a buck. A phone SNAFU resulted in a 2 second video of the tops of his boots instead of the 30 seconds he thought he got of the bear. 😁

The other son in the father son duo with the buck tags connected on a nice 4x4 at noon on the last day. His best buck since they’ve been joining us in camp and sadly I got in late that evening and didn’t get a pic. He and I did team up in the kitchen that night for another epic round of fresh heart and liver and it was outstanding.

The two bucks ended up being it for meat on the pole this go around but like always it was another incredible adventure. We ate like kings, laughed like fools, and realized just how rich we all really are.

We tore it all down and packed it all up Friday morning so we could get on the road to make it back for the Saturday morning opener of our home state rifle season, it’s shaping up to be an amazing year on that front too, but that’s a story for another time.

Thanks for tagging along, hope you enjoy the story a tenth as much as I enjoyed living it.

Great buck, Kid, congrats!

Great buck and great memories. Thanks for sharing.

Awesome hunt, great buck, and a great camp!

Oh, cool Featherweight as well! Congrats all around!

Congratulations on a fantastic camp and super deer.

Enjoy your account of the gathering every year and can tell it is something special for all involved.

Awesome write up👍👍

Thank you much for sharing the adventure

Congrats on an Awesome Buck. Thanks for posting your story and taking us along. Nice pic's too.

Man What A Great BUCK!!! Thanks for sharing your story and camp.

A Thanksgiving to remember. Be safe and enjoy the rest of your hunt.

Love everything about this deal.....the story, the buck, the pics.......just fantastic. Congrats.

I too am envious of your camp, family, friends and tradition. I hope you appreciate what you have there. Thanks for sharing.

Great buck BTW!

110% pure awesome! Congrats and thanks for the write up and pics.

Excellent a nd a great buck!! Congratulations.

Congrats! Beautiful buck and sure looks like a good time with the boys!