Tag Archives: brothers

A Junior Mule Deer Pro-Am

October 21, 2025huntingbrothers, Deer, deer hunting, hunting, mule deercoldboremiracle

Preface

Few things are more satisfying than watching your children grow up. As a hunter, the same thing can be said about watching your children grow into successful hunters. Some of you might have followed me long enough to have seen my son grow into a successful hunter. But today’s story is about both his latest and our youngest boy’s first deer hunting experience. Today’s exciting adventure is in jest; a junior Mule Deer pro-am.

The Pro

My Ridley has been hunting since he reached our state’s legal hunting age of 12. His very first year he managed to shoot both a Mule Deer and a cow elk using his little custom Remington 700 that I built for him that year. He must’ve inherited some shooting skill, because this kid has been a dead ringer from the start. His first deer was taken with a clean single shot at 490 yards, and his first elk from a touch further. He has repeatedly made some impressive shots over the years shooting nothing but that short little rifle. Whether it be shooting supported off a backpack at extremely high angles, or shooting an escaping deer bounding off through brush.

His rifle has always craved the same load, a simple one using PRVI 120 grain BTHP match bullets. Nestled over a load of Benchmark powder producing just shy of 2800FPS, this load has put a LOT of deer and elk meat in our freezer.

Junior first elk, ridley, elk, cow elk, — And his first elk 2016

The rifle has always used a small LPVO, which I have found easier for inexperienced marksmen to find targets. It currently has a US Optics 1-8 power scope on it, but it may be time for something with a little more magnification as Junior is inexperienced no longer.

The Amateur

Santiago on the other hand, is in his rookie year of big game hunting. He has shown even more interest in shooting and hunting than his older siblings. Add to that having grown up watching everybody else have success, his excitement and desire to hunt himself are at an all-time high as hunting season began this year.

He’s spent a lot of time behind a riflescope, accompanying me on countless shooting and hunting expeditions. Everything involving outdoors, guns and hunting seem to appeal to this young man. And with his first Mule Deer hunt approaching, he asked for extra opportunities to practice and sharpen his own shooting skills. And to be candid I have been impressed with both his passion and skill when it comes to shooting well.

howa, mini, 22 ARC, lucid optics, MLX, silencerco, omega 36m, suppressor, — hunting varmints has been good practice

For his rookie season, we chose the Browning X-Bolt 2. I typically start young shooters off with something a little lighter on recoil, but Santiago also drew a cow elk tag for later this winter. I wanted him to have and become proficient with a rifle that would do well for both elk and deer. This ruled out using some of the typically smaller caliber rifles we had in inventory. The 308 Winchester X-Bolt uses a Vector Optics 2-12×44 riflescope, tipped with a Banish Backcountry suppressor to keep things tolerable. He had spent a great deal of time learning how to use this combination, hoping to be ready when the time came.

Browning, x-bolt, x-bolt 2, x-bolt speed, 308 win, vector optics, continental, 2-12x44, banish backcountry suppresor, — Earlier this summer hard at practice

Sunrise

With the first signs of light peeking in the east, we found ourselves at the top of a Rocky Mountain ridge near 8500 feet above sea level. It had snowed up here a day or so prior, which still lingers in the high altitude freezing air temps. The hard frozen snow crunched under boots as we endured a strong wind cresting over the ridge.

mule deer, deer hunting, — one of the two bucks we were after

We spotted a group of deer on a distant ridge below us, I was hoping to find something much closer based on historical experience. But after spending more time than I’d of liked looking, there were almost no other deer that were out braving the freezing wind with us. So in perhaps a hasty decision, I told the kids to grab their packs and gear so we could go after them. Besides the two boys, my Daughter Bria also came along. We decided to leave her rifle behind as we’d only seen two bucks in the group, and even if we’d seen more she could shoot one of the boy’s rifles. The rugged and steep pursuit demanded taking as little gear as possible.

The Stalk

Once we were dedicated to the stalk, we moved quickly. I knew we were making a descent that would be unpleasant to return from. But the sooner we got a deer on the ground it would be that much less ground we’d have to ascend on our return. Keeping the ridge between us and the group of deer, we moved fast and into the wind that still blew uphill into our faces.

deer hunting, mule deer, eberlestock, — shameless plug for my **Eberlestock Just One pack**, that made packing out a lot of deer comfortable

We closed the distance to 470 yards, where our cover ran out. Moving closer would have severely compromised our surreptitious approach, and the deer would have easily spotted us moving across the open sagebrush. We picked out a high perch, with room for both boys to setup their rifles. An added benefit to our approach was the sun rising directly behind us, which made it even harder for the deer to see us.

As Ridley looked through his riflescope, I ranged the deer again, trying to see where the buck stood among them. Ridley spotted him first, as I helped Santiago get in place. Ridley pronounced he was ready, and Santiago prepared to back him up should the deer try and escape.

Time to Kill

Ridley initially held 3 MRAD over the buck’s shoulder, who was quartering away to the left. His initial shot went right over the buck, who didn’t react. So he fired a second this time holding 2.5 MRAD, this shot landed perfectly hitting at the back of the buck’s ribcage and traversed the vital zone stopping just under the right shoulder. The buck jumped as he was hit, and bounded a few times before he piled up and slid down the steep hill.

The four of us celebrated in our triumph. But there was still another buck, who stepped out after the commotion of the first deer. The boys both quickly returned to their scopes, as we identified which of the deer was the remaining buck. After Santiago had found the buck, and identified him to both Ridley and I, the rookie was cleared hot for his first real kill shot.

The young buck stood broadside nearly five-hundred yards downhill from us, looking our way. With his rifle doped for the distance, and steady behind the rifle, Santiago announced he was ready and we all watched. The shot broke, and the buck jumped as though he had been hit. He lept uphill running across a flat area, my initial thought was he moved like an uninjured deer. But after about forty or so yards, he slowed and turned, before doing a faceplant into the snow. There he scrambled around for a moment trying to get back up, but he slid into a bed under the brush for one last time. Once again, we cheered and excitedly exchanged hugs and high-fives.

Double Recovery

All four of us found our way down the ridge, where we searched a moment for the second buck. He had fallen in some tall brush which made him harder to find. Once we’d found him, Santiago got to put hands on his first deer. Watching kids soak up the experience is great for a dad too.

We took a few pictures as the boys recounted what had happened, and discussed what they’d each seen as the events unfolded earlier. Santiago’s shot was placed perfectly, the broadside shot had hit the deer just behind his right shoulder, and came through the left shoulder. The 175 Sierra Match King X left an exit wound around three-inches in diameter, with bits of bone fragments coming out. We did some quick forensic analysis, then we hurried over to the edge of the ridge to find the first deer that Ridley had shot.

deer hunting, mule deer, kids, children, browning, x bolt 2, 308 win, vector optics 2-12x44, banish backcountry suppressor, — Santiago was shooting the **X-Bolt 2** chambered in 308 Winchester, shooting **Sierra 175 grain Match King X bullets**. Suppressed by a **Banish Backcountry titanium suppressor**

We had left the first deer for last, mainly because we knew he was dead as could be and had not moved since the shot. As we approached, we let Ridley make first connection. He was a handsome little buck, a 2×3 with some good eye-guards for a small deer. His antlers were heavier than we’d expected, so as you can imagine we were all happy as could be. After the initial inspection Ridley asked for a moment of quiet while we gave the handsome animal the respect he was due.

ridley, mule deer, deer, deer hunting, remington 700, .260 remington, cole tac, suppressed, — another notch in the stock for ‘ol meat-in-the-pot. A .260 Remington cut at 16″ with the **USO 1-8 scope**, and **YHM suppressor** covered by the **Cole-TAC Python suppressor cover**

Again we took a variety of photos, as the rest of the family hiked down to us to help. My brother and his daughter were a great addition, giving both help and praise. It was right about this point that the fun part ended, and the hard part began.

The trip back up the ridge to our vehicle would have been impossible without cutting up the deer. So we quartered them up, and pulled as much meat off of the carcass as possible, leaving it attached to the quarters to avoid contamination. These kids love deer burgers so I wanted to maximize the meat haul. All the kids would help as we cut large portions of meat off, they would lay the meat on clean patches of snow. After which they covered the meat with more snow to quickly cool the meat and keep it clean.

mule deer, deer, deer hunting, butcher, quartering, — my brother giving the boys instruction on field butchering

Everybody pitched in and helped with butchering both deer, as well as packing them back up the mountain. To this dad’s surprise, not a single complaint was heard hiking back up. Of course we were all tired, and everybody hurt, but nobody was whining and asking for someone else to carry their weight.

Conclusion

It’s a beautiful life that we get to share as a hunting family, and its not absent from my thoughts that I once dreamed of having the life I now get to live every day. Sharing great experiences like this one with my children are the crown jewel of my own adventures, and I cannot wait to do it again.

-CBM

deer hunting, mule deer, deer, browning, x bolt 2, — Santiago with his Mom

junior, ridley, mule deer, deer hunting,

A Mule Deer Plan: A Successful Plan Built in Brotherhood

November 22, 2020blog, huntingbrothers, Deer, deer hunting, hunting, mule deercoldboremiracle

One sign that you are getting better at hunting, is when your plans start ending successfully instead of watching deer run off. Twenty-something years ago, my little Brother Spence invited me to come along on a deer hunt with some friends. It was the beginning of a crazy addiction filled with challenges and adventure, and every year since, we do it again. Several things have changed quite a bit since that fateful first hunt together, we’re both a bit rounder in the middle, and we both have less hair, but we sure have gotten better at hunting Mule deer and killing deer and elk. Todays story is about Mule deer hunting plans, and how years of hunting and hard work can turn into valuable achievement and happy memories.

My Brothers and I
You may have gathered by now that I’m not much of a trophy hunter, of course I’d love to shoot a monster but I’m more about having a good time and involving loved ones and friends than anything else. To me, any animal that presents a challenge and a delicious reward that we can share is a trophy. The practice of hunting, year after year, shot after shot, and stalk after stalk, has sharpened all of us.

An adventure from long ago
Spence and I have shared adventures our whole lives, but today was an especially sweet one. It was the final day of the deer hunt here in our home state of Utah, and Spence still had an uncut tag, and had yet to point his gun at anything. Our plan was to take advantage of an active snow storm that had moved in overnight, the weather always brings out the deer. Experience told me we wouldn’t be able to see much of anything way up high, the thick and fluffy snow fall was building fast. So instead, we decided to hunt the foothills of the mountains.

The snow was still falling, as shooting light came and passed. We hadn’t seen more than a few tracks, but one set of tracks that we’d cut was clearly a buck and he was headed the right direction. We looked as hard as we could through binoculars, searching every crevasse and brush patch. The patience that comes with age and experience seems to let you know when to take your time, and when you need to hurry. We kept moving to avail ourselves of different angles of the mountain above us. I knew it was only a matter of time before we spotted something, and sure enough, after about 30 minutes of glassing, we finally picked two does out.

mule deer — rough country like this is great for Mule deer hunting

They were working around in some very deep brush, the six-hundred yards between us made glassing them difficult through the thick snow falling all around us. I could tell there was another deer in the brush behind them, I told Spence that it had to be a buck. Spence is used to me aggressively proposing suggestions as facts, the poor kid has had to listen to me his whole life so I’m sure he has grown accustomed to just nodding in agreement as a response. But after putting my spotting scope on the third deer, I could clearly see antlers. I told Spence if he wanted a last day of the hunt deer, then this was it. The brush and snow obscured the buck from good viewing, but I could tell he had at least three points on his left side. My Brother is more of a trophy hunter than I, but I figured if he knew it wasn’t some fork from this past spring it would get him a little more excited.

He grabbed his rifle, and found a good spot to setup on the buck. But after several minutes of looking, he couldn’t find the buck in the deep snowy brush. We watched the does make their way to a thicket, and caught a glimpse of him as he followed them into what looked like a very small shelf on a very steep and rocky hillside. We continued to watch, hoping for them to come out into one of the few openings, but after twenty and then thirty minutes passed we could see one of the does bedded down. We watched patiently as the snow slowed its fall, watching fervently to see if they were going to move, or spend the day there.

25creedmoor, krg, tripod — My deer rifle that day, a custom **Tikka in 25CM** topped with a **Crimson Trace riflescope**

It was probably near eight-o’clock by this point, and we were confident these deer were not planning on moving. So like many times before, we started to devise a plan. The terrain the deer had bedded in was extremely steep, and if it wasn’t shoulder deep thick brush, it was loose and slippery scree in long slides down the mountain. The steep slope ran north/south, and we were looking east up the precipitous grade. There was another high point about halfway to the deer on the north side of them, that would give a commanding view of the area were they lay bedded. The plan that we came up with, was for him to climb slowly and covertly to that high spot, after which I would make a wide loop far to their south. This would put the deer almost squarely between us, I could then slowly sneak close enough to them, and like every mule deer, they would smell or hear me and try to sneak away not knowing that Spence lay waiting for exactly that.
We split up, after going over the plan to ensure we both had it down. I waited till he was about halfway to his new hide, and then started my climb. There was a ridge spine that ran uphill, about a hundred yards south of the deer’s thicket, I decided to stay on the other side as long as possible in order to avoid detection.

The thick brush and rock was hard to keep quiet in as I climbed, every branch I grabbed to steady myself would drop snow down my neck. But I pushed on, my plan was to actually get above the deer, so that I would have a better view of them should they bust. Experience has also showed me that if you don’t put in the work, its almost as though you disrupt the balance of nature, and success is hard-won. There was about a fifteen-minute window where I couldn’t see the thicket, or my brother. But I finally hit the elevation I wanted, and made my way north over the ridge spine, and towards a rock outcropping that would give me the perfect view. I quietly snuck to the rock, testing every step. I wasn’t sure how close I was just yet, so barely breathing and with all four points of contact I climbed onto the wet rock, the snow having melted off, and just recently stopped falling from the grey sky.

I could now see my Brother, a mere 230 yards away. He had setup behind a rock, which gave him a solid shooting rest, as well as some obscurity should the deer look his way. I sat there stinking, as hard as I could, hoping they would catch my scent on the breeze. But the wind had changed direction, and was moving uphill fast enough that they’d never catch my drift. I had snuck into inside seventy-yards from where the three deer lay on the shelf, and the steep incline of the hill made them feel even closer. So I did what every deer hunter does when things get tough and not going your way, I started rolling rocks. Small rocks, that I pitched into the trees near the deer, hoping the repetitive noise would make them uncomfortable enough to get up.

By this time, Spence was freezing in his cold and wet hiding spot. Watching me toss rocks from high above. At one point one of the does stood up, which triggered an exciting rush as perhaps it was about to go down. But it would take a few more minutes of rock rolling before the two does would finally appear, and stepped out of the thicket. My perspective wouldn’t let me see them, but Spence watched quietly through his Vortex Razor as the does slowly moved a dozen yards into the open. After about ten minutes, the buck stood up. He had been laying right next to the does but hidden from sight, but he moved slowly, in the direction of the does. He finally cleared out of the thicket, and stood quartered away, just below the thicket of trees. It was his last move, Spence had been waiting patiently with a hot chamber, and now he pressed the trigger as crosshair met ribcage.

Several hundred yards away, I stood oblivious to all the happenings below. Standing on my rock trying to stink and be conspicuous. The clouds had just begun to burn off, and the sun was peaking through. The silence of a snowy mountain was soothing, but suddenly cut short.

The report of Spence’s .260 Remington was unlike any shot I’ve ever heard, the blast suppressed by his Thunderbeast suppressor. The sound I heard was amazing, it sounded like a ricocheting 22lr mixed with a rising whistle sound, and of course, at the end was the THWAP! Sounds like a baseball bat swung hard into a wet roll of carpet. Upon hearing the sound, I perked up, and saw the two does bounding off through the steep brush south of the thicket. Just as I got my glass up, I saw the buck bounce into view, and no sooner had I seen him, he keeled over and toppled down the hill, sliding nearly a hundred yards down the steep hillside directly below me. I may have heard a victory call from down the hill, as we both quickly headed for the downed buck.

As we arrived at the buck, I couldn’t get over how handsome he looked. He actually looked like a younger version of the buck I shot the year before, perhaps his offspring. Spence sat down next to his buck, and soaked it up. The sun was now full on shining, and we sat on the steep hill digging our heels in to keep from sliding down. It was a beautiful moment, and we couldn’t have been happier with how our plan worked out.

We had a little discussion about how things seem to have worked out, and how it would have been nice to have all this experience on that first hunt long ago. But isn’t that the beauty of hunting? So much of what we learn, is taught by sacrifice, and loss.

The one that got away seems to be the toughest lesson of all. Until we eventually get to the point that we actually let one go by choice instead of him getting away unscathed because we weren’t good enough. The experiences that got us to where we stood, are in their own way a trophy, and one I love to share whether it be here in words or around a campfire waiting for the next hunt to start.

We drug the deer down the mountain towards the truck, where we took some more pictures, before heading to a champions breakfast. The only thing better than making good memories like these, is making them with loved ones. Sometimes the best planned hunt, is being with the right people. I’m thankful I got to be there, but even more thankful for that invite twenty years ago.

–CBM