by- Chad Baart
The fog was rolling in waves from the valley floor up the steep banks of the canyon in the Idaho desert. It would only be a matter of time before the fog lifted enough to expose a group of does being tended by a mule deer buck. The feeling of the rut was in the air and by the amount of sign that could be seen, things were coming together.
I had scouted this area in the weeks prior to the hunt. I decided to concentrate on the hills surrounding the agricultural areas to the north, knowing that the desert land that lay further to the south held little or no food. The terrain above the large alfalfa fields was much like the rest of the desert. It was covered with white sandy soil and scattered with patches of sagebrush. The deer trails meandered their way up through the coulees high into the rim rock, where the bucks were keeping watch over the fields below throughout the day.
The long awaited opening day had finally arrived and my long time friends Jerry and Joel were ready for what was to become a great hunt. The day started out with a chance at a nice whitetail buck that emerged from a drainage to the east. Being from whitetail country, they wanted to wait for a nice mulie. I couldn’t blame them in the least. After a few hours of glassing, I spotted a group of does feeding their way off the edge of the alfalfa. Knowing that the rut was on, I kept my glasses on them and waited for a buck to move in.
After a few minutes passed, a nice buck showed himself and the stalk was on. Joel and I moved across the drainage using the small ups and downs as cover to move in for a closer look. We had finally closed the gap on the deer, only to find that the large buck had one horn. It was a real disappointment to see only one horn, while at the same time it was a real inspiration of what was yet to come. We watched as the group of deer worked back and forth and then out of sight.
We glassed for most of the morning and spotted some smaller bucks and does. With the morning slipping by, we decided to change locations. We walked along the edge of the rim rock and worked parallel to the vast expanse of alfalfa below. We were lucky enough to spot some does resting undisturbed on a bench below us. I sent Jerry out ahead to get a better look. My gut feeling told me that there was a good buck in with the does. I could not see the other deer that were there, when Jerry rose up and fired. I was confident that the unseen buck was a good one as Jerry motioned that the deer was down. I was very pleased when I crested the hill and saw the buck lying there. I had offered my rifle to Jerry earlier that day, but he was sure that he could get the job done with his muzzle loader, and that he did.
With one deer out of the way, we decided to travel back to my home and get Jerry’s deer in the freezer and stay the night. We left our camp set up in a secluded little ravine so it would be ready for the rest of the hunt. Our plan was to rise early the next day and return to the same spot in which we had taken the other buck. We had seen a good population of does and smaller bucks the day before, and knew that there was a possibility of one more shooter to fill Joel’s tag.
The next morning we were up early as planned. Again the fog had rolled in during the night and this time it had brought rain with it. All of our rain gear was packed away at camp, so we had to make an unplanned 10-mile detour to retrieve it before heading to our spot. The fog began to lift shortly after arriving at the top of the canyon, but the rain continued well into the morning. It was becoming difficult to keep the water droplets off the lens of our spotting scopes.
We had been sitting for about an hour and spotted several does in the distance. There was no sign of a buck around. Joel was sitting higher than the two of us and said that there was a group of does working behind us at about 200 yards. The late morning air was still and almost deathly quiet by this time. I pulled a grunt tube from my day pack and mimicked the tending grunt. If there was another large buck in the area, I was hoping to be mistaken for the buck that had been taken the day before by Jerry.
The does responded to the call and came to within 30 yards. Not being able to find what they were looking for, they moved further up the hill behind us. I began to grunt a little more when Jerry motioned to the hill below. Out of the coulee in front of us emerged a nice buck. We told Joel not to move as the buck was coming in. The buck held up and knew that something was wrong, he began to skirt around us. Joel was finally able to swing around and ready himself for a possible shot.
With the buck on the move it was apparent that Joel would not get the shot that he wanted. I had him wait until the buck moved up the draw to our side. At this point Joel could clear the ridge that separated us from the buck, and catch him on the open hillside. The buck had stopped on the open hillside as we had hoped for and was looking at Joel when he squeezed the trigger. The buck dropped instantly. Jerry stayed behind to gather our gear while Joel and I made our way to claim his first Idaho mule deer.
On the way out the weather set back in and the fog once again began to roll from the valley floor. Visibility was down to several feet as we climbed the hill to the truck. The eerie silence of the desert was back upon us. What a way to finish the season. I was with two great friends, in the middle of nowhere, doing what we love most.
What more could you ask for?
