Tag Archives: mule deer

A Stalk to Die for

October 26, 2025huntingDeer, deer hunting, howa, howa mini, mule deercoldboremiracle

Preface

Spot and stalk Mule deer hunting is at the top of many hunters list of to-do’s. Living at the forefront of the Wasatch range of the Rocky Mountains, I often get to practice this style of hunting. The romantic allure of outsmarting one of these bucks is a draw for sure. Today I bring you a story of a stalk to die for, perhaps one of my best executed spot and stalks. And it was sealed with blood and sweat, instead of the more common sweat and disappointment. To add even more value to this hunt, my sweet tiny wife was along to run the trigger for this hunt. And it served as the crown jewel to a hunting season littered with success. Our kids had already shot three deer this week, and we had packed out every one of them. So as the sun began to rise yesterday, I could still feel every pound and mile in my sore legs and feet.

deer hunting, mule deer, — Santiago packing out part of his buck earlier this week. Hiding under all that mess is his **Browning X-Bolt 2** and suppressed by the **Banish Backcountry can**

Sunrise

It was the morning of the seventh day of our Utah Mule deer general season. Our success this year had been above average, as I had yet to see anyone else harvest a buck on the same mountain we hunted. Due to an unanticipated change in plans, instead of watching the sunrise from our typical ridge-top spot at 8500 feet above sea level we started at the bottom of our valley.

From the foothills where I grew up hiking and camping as a kid, we watched the red morning light creep across the frosted landscape. My wife, our youngest and I peered through glass looking for deer. My expectations were low, as several days of prior scouting hadn’t turned up anything worth a second look, at least not down here, but things were about to change.

From roughly a mile and a half away, I picked out a couple does feeding on an open grassy area. As I broadened my search area around them, I picked out another deer that was instantly identified by his boney headwear. From that distance I wasn’t sure of an actual count on points, I just knew he would certainly do.

mule deer, deer hunting, — our buck, seen through the **Nikon Monarch 82mm Fieldscope** from nearly two miles away

A Plan

For several hours, and moving several times to relocate him, we watched this buck move. He was the only buck we’d seen this morning, and I didn’t want him to get away. We followed him across several faces, until it seemed he was ready to bed down. He had been closely following the two does, perhaps in some pre-rut activity based on his body language. They finally slowed down, and fed in an open area in a small bowl. I knew why they’d chosen that spot, it was rugged and thick enough to provide ample security, and far enough away from people to avoid contact. Unless of course they were being watched through my spotting scope off in the distance.

rokstad, vector optics, tripod, carbon fiber, nikon, fieldscope, Nikon Monarch 82ED-A Fieldscope — my **Nikon Monarch 82A Fieldscope** mounted on the **Rokstad carbon fiber tripod**

I knew the way to get to that bowl, and my plan was to hike in from the north. It would be about a mile and a half, gaining a couple thousand feet along the way. So we stuffed our packs accordingly, removing everything we didn’t need, and with enough snacks to wait them out through the afternoon.

The three of us carried our packs, and I carried my wife’s rifle in my Eberlestock Just One pack for comfort. Her rifle is a Howa Mini chambered in 6 ARC, she has done very well with this rifle in the past. Today we would lean hard on the accuracy of the little ARC loaded with Hornady 105 grain BTHP match bullets.

hunting, deer hunting, — a turkey feather cunning placed as we climbed

The Approach

A few hours (and snacks) later, we had gained enough elevation to get into the bowl where the deer hid. To my great relief, the wind was moving perfect for our plan. It came from the side where the deer were expected to lay, and at a fairly constant 5-10 mph it blew in our faces. We’d came in high, as I’d planned to get a good look of the area. Over the course of another half-hour, we quietly snuck deeper into the bowl. Eventually finding the perfect hideout; a large rock structure with a grassy depression where we could build a hide and wait them out. Our position put us downwind, and above the suspected bedding area about two-hundred yards away.

For the next few hours we watched, and rested. Peering over the edge of our towering hide, we’d occasionally see a doe or two feeding about in the thick and thorny bottom.

Weather was inbound, and the 5-10 mph wind was increasing. The overcast skies looked to darken, and potentially bring rain. I felt an urgency building, despite having fought off the desire to bust in their bedroom guns-a-blazin’. So we changed our plan a bit, I sent Santiago our youngest on a mission. To circle around the bowl and get just close enough for the deer to notice him, which they certainly would. Meanwhile his mom and I would be watching from above.

Full-Circle

With my wife in position, she prepared for a shot that was coming. Finding the most steady position, resting the rifle over the rock’s edge. Santiago quickly reached the spot where we had planned, which turned out to be much closer than I’d thought to the deer’s beds. There he was instructed to chill, knowing full well that this kid would be loud enough that the deer would quickly get nervous.

This isn’t the first deer this little Howa Mini has taken

I could feel tension building, was the buck even in there? Had he slipped out already? Or could this possibly work out to be the most perfect stalk we’d ever executed? It was time to find out.

We watched in horror, as instead of sneaking out, three deer bounded from the thicket. But in the classic Mule deer practice, they stopped after only a few hops to look back at the twelve year old threat they had perceived. Mrs. Coldboremiracle was way ahead of them, spotting their very first movements and calling it out. And now our target stood there, just his head, neck and shoulders in view. With his haunches towards us, most of his back was slightly obscured by brush. One more hop was all he needed to disappear and live another day, but the ARC was about to bark.

Success

The shot broke, and the 105 grain bullet was on its way across the 250 or so yards to its target. It struck him at the back of his ribcage, with a heading directly for his heart. As it passed behind the ribs, it travelled under the spine disconnecting large plumbing arteries along the way. Eventually it reached the lungs, imparting what energy was left there.

The handsome buck did a bit of a stagger upon impact, and a split second later I saw him roll his head and topple. Then all I saw was feet-antlers-feet-antlers as he disappeared down a very steep and thick brush covered hill.

We hugged with excitement as the last eight hours culminated to this moment. Everything had worked out as though perfectly planned. We descended to meet Santiago, where all three of us moved in to find the buck. With such a high in the torso impact, there was less blood than I’d anticipated. But the disturbed ground where he tumbled was as obvious as blood. We approached the downed buck with huge smiles and excitement, as we had worked so much to reach this point.

A Fitting End

For the first time we got a good look at his antlers, he was a legit 4 by 5 with nice eye guards if you are an eyeguard kind of guy. We couldn’t have been more happy with him. We set him more comfortably to admire him, and revered his handsome looks. All three of us were incredibly grateful, and we quietly acknowledged the blessing we had just been given.

her rifle uses a **US Optics** riflescope and Maxim **Suppressor**

It was still half a mile back to a location were we could extricate him, so I ended up dragging him through rocks, brush and eventually yellow dry June grass. As the three of us maxed out on exhaustion, and hunger, it was a perfect fitting end to a week of the same. Seeing the buck in the bed of the truck gave amazing satisfaction, something I couldn’t have imagined eight hours earlier miles away.

The satisfaction only grows now, as he hangs outside cooling in the cold October night. He and the other deer will become tasty steaks, burgers, sausage and other delicious meals to feed our family over the next year. Though my legs still ache, I can’t wait for the next opportunity to do it again. And together with family makes it all the more valuable.

-CBM

For more hunting stories click here

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.

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,

Mule Deer Dualism: A Deer Hunting Experience

October 27, 2024huntingdeer hunting, hunting, mule deercoldboremiracle

Preface

We’ve all experienced feast and famine during deer hunting trips, which usually results in either bounty or bust. But it is almost always a great adventure. In the fall of 2024, my hunting group and I experienced some of both. And today I’ll share the story with you about Mule deer dualism, or the contrast between what is and what can be while hunting them.

Fall 2024

Its been a rough few years hunting here in my home state of Utah, after some very significant winters our deer population has suffered. Utah is an interesting state, filled with natural beauty and wild lands. And every fall it is filled with thousands of excited hunters looking to shoot a Mule deer buck. Even under normal conditions, it can be challenging to hunt these public lands with so many others. But when the deer population dwindles to something like forty-percent of normal, it can be downright depressing for hunting fanatics like me.

I’ve been hunting the same mountains and canyons for my entire adult life, the same mountains my father, grandfather and great-grandfather hunted before me. So I am pretty familiar with the habits of the game animals that share this mountain home. Even so, it isn’t uncommon for them to be always there except for the times you want them to be.

With some optimism, my friends and family started the annual deer hunt hoping for the best. Knowing that the numbers were against us, but also with the knowledge of how quickly things can change.

First Light

As the sun came up the first day of the hunt, two of my kids and I, in a hurried crouch made our way to the edge of a ridge. We’d spotted a pair of bucks feeding on the frosted brush. Later that day I would be astonished with how few deer we would see compared to normal. But at that moment I was too focused to think about anything else.

bergara crest carbon 308 win, mule deer — the first deer taken by my son using the **Bergara Crest Carbon 308Win** with the **Athlon Heras 6-24×50**

We snuck into a shooting position, and my son Leo rested his rifle on my field tripod to keep the line of sight over the brush. We waited for the two bucks to separate enough to shoot, and he cracked a perfect shot through the boiler room. The buck left a blood trail even Stevie Wonder could have followed, leading us to the first prize of the week. We celebrated our success for a while as the warm sunlight brought sensation back to our faces and fingers.

mule deer, cleaning — my kids gutting a deer as a team

More than a day later I returned to the same area with a friend and his sons. Now several days into hunting season, we had all become quite aware of the reduction in deer presence. In fact, it was downright depressing how few deer we were seeing compared to normal years. With little opportunity that morning, I was considering going back home. But things would change quickly for us.

The Developing Duo

We had seen a few scattered groups of does, but nothing promising any bones or trophies. Just as I was about to throw in the towel, a fresh deer was spotted. And a cursory look at it suggested he was worth more investigation. I wasn’t thrilled with his location, as it would surely mean hours of grueling work to extricate him after an equally grueling hike to get close. After closing the distance some, we found that the buck wasn’t alone. And the two of them stood in the open begging for our attention.

We hastily made our way from one point to another, before nearly running down a trail to close the distance to 500 yards. Our pace was required as the two deer were slowly working over the ridge into a deep canyon where we’d never see or find them again. With little time to spare, we approached a rock that would offer and ideal shooting position. The sun had just reached the deer, which gave us an even better view of them. As we all peered through binoculars I suggested the left one was the bigger buck, to which the others confirmed. I again confirmed the distance at right around 500 yards, and dialed the 1.7 MRAD into the scope of my PVA Modus 6.5 PRC rifle.

The two bucks stood a few yards from each other, looking into the morning sun. Perhaps satisfied with having given some other hunters the slip, but not knowing the heat that was currently pointed their way.

Time to Shoot

I ran the bolt in my rifle to chamber a round, my custom handloads using 129 grain PVA Cayuga solid copper bullets. And I settled the crosshair on the distant grey shape, adjusting the scope for perfect clarity.

patriot valley arms modus 6.5 PRC — we’ve already killed quite a few animals with this rifle, suppressed by **Banish Suppressor**

Everything felt just right, so I decided to pull the trigger, sending the sizzle of the 6.5 PRC. The bullet impacted just behind the left shoulder, and exited on the opposite side of the deer. He dropped immediately and sprawled his way uncontrolled down the steep slope. Watching him for a a few seconds it was clear that he was done, my friend Nate pointed out that the second buck simply stood there watching as his partner succumb to the shot. I was surprised as I looked back through the scope and saw the second buck still standing there looking confused.

I slid out from behind the rifle, and motioned one of the boys to get behind it. Carson shouldered the rifle and we chambered another round, as he located the buck through the scope. Once he steadied the rifle on the buck, we all went back to our binoculars. The next shot broke and hit the second buck square behind the shoulder as well, his entire body rippling with the impact. He jumped forward bouncing into thick brush over the hill.

mule deer, Patriot Valley Arms Modus rifle, 6.5 PRC, US Optics TXH 3-18x50

The excitement had consumed us all at this point and we exchanged hugs and shoulder punches. After which we hurried down the mountain towards our prize. As we hiked, we discussed the incredible improbability that with so few deer, and almost nothing of any size, we were profoundly lucky to be there.

mule deer, PVA Modus rifle, 6.5PRC, us optics txh 3-18x50 — the **US Optics TXH 3-18×50** scope made an excellent companion to the **PVA Modus rifle**

Recovery

Our excitement continued to peak as we walked up on the downed bucks. While they might not make the cover of a magazine, they were for sure the best two bucks we had or would see during the hunt.

We gave them the reverence they deserved, and admired their beauty. We of course snapped some photos to save the memory, before starting into the hard work. With a long ways to go back to the road, we decided to bone out the deer. Cutting all the flesh from the bones to save wasted effort, then hanging the meat in the cold breeze to cool it off as quick as possible.

mule deer, wound, 129 Cayuga bullet — The offside exit wound of the **129 Cayuga copper bullet**

It took most of the morning and afternoon to get everything done and make our way back to the vehicle. It was an exhausting effort that felt fantastic once I was sitting in my truck.

The Duality

Every year I am surprised by how mule deer can seem to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. How they can stand out flagrantly at one moment, then shift into the shadows and disappear when they choose.

And yet despite the massive reduction in our deer population, we were still able to have great success. During the week I saw very few hunters besides ourselves, and of the ones I saw nobody seemed to have brought home anything.

The glaring disparity between my expectations and results are as significant as the silence in these mountains. While I am thankful for our success, I am concerned for the future. I hope the reduction in permits helps improve our deer population.

Final Thoughts

There are many contrasting phenomenon when it comes to hunting Mule deer, I think I like most of them. As I rest my weary legs here at home, I am incredibly thankful for our opportunities. Doubling up on a duo like these two as part of a successful week of deer hunting makes it an even sweeter success. I can’t wait for our next hunting adventure.

-CBM

Deer Hunting Heritage

November 8, 2022blog, huntingDeer, deer hunting, first deer, mule deercoldboremiracle

New hunters come into our midst all the time. Much like generations of deer come and go over the seasons, old hunters slowly fade from our camps every year and are replaced by newer and younger faces.
As sad as it is not seeing old friends and loved ones, the new possibilities of teaching the next generation is the only suitable substitute.

One of the newer faces around my fire this year was Leonardo, my wife’s oldest son. His very first hunting adventure happened only a few months ago. He was lucky enough to draw a pair of doe antelope tags, and we made an adventure out of the opportunity. If you haven’t read that story, click here to read it after this one.

After thoroughly enjoying his first big game hunting experience, Leo was even more excited for the mule deer hunt that would follow. We spent a few trips into the mountains during the summer to practice shooting techniques and prepare for what was ahead. Leo is a level-headed kid, responsible and astute. So I was quite confident we would see success as the sun began to rise that cold October morning.

In a stroke of luck, a storm front passed through our mountains in the early hours of opening morning. It brought rain and snow which was a good thing, but it also brought a fierce wind with it as well. Storm fronts like this one typically get the deer out of their hiding spots, and I was hoping to see them as the first rays of light began to cut through the cold and dark clouds.

My little brother, Leo and I hiked noisily up a steep and rocky hillside. Hoping to sneak into a good shooting position on the downwind side of the ridge. I say noisily because the wind blew so hard it pushed us uphill. None of the breaking of sticks or tumbling stones could be heard over the winds howl.
Just as official shooting light arrived, we had crested the peak nine-thousand feet above sea level. We found some solace from the wind, and we were immediately into spotting deer. A small group made their way over the next ridge a mere two-hundred yards away. After confirming that they were our only prospect, we slowly and as quietly as could be given the conditions, made our way towards the ridge they had crossed. Obviously not where they had crossed, but uphill from there hoping to have a better view of them from above.
My brother would stay and cover other vistas while Leo and I pursued the group.

We cautiously crossed over the crest of the ridge, keeping low and looking over the very tips of the brush as we went. I was very surprised to find the deer only a few hundred yards away from us. And I was also concerned as two of the group seemed to already be aware of our presence. I don’t know how, as it was still too noisy to hear us, and the wind carried our scent another direction, but none the less we seemed to be nearly busted on arrival. As I studied the group cautiously through my binoculars, one of the deer was quite conspicuous as he carried a white face and headgear much bonier than the rest. I whispered to Leo that there was a buck watching us, but it seemed as we had the time to get a rifle up and on him. I say seemed because we had been looking at them for over a minute and they still stood there, many of them eating.
As soon as we lifted our eyes back above the brushline however, they had vanished into the thickly wooded canyon below.
As we hiked back towards my brother, I explained to Leo about one of the rules of hunting.
Oftentimes you gotta screw up one opportunity in order to get in the right state of mind for a proper opportunity. So we chalked this one up to our practice run, and we searched out another stalk.

Only a hour or so later, we sat perched on another high point glassing a draw that we had spotted a few does feed across.
Upon closer inspection, we noticed that one of the deer in that opening was a spike. Being his first hunt, Leo was not exactly particular about antlers.
After a few goings on that ended up moving the deer into thicker brush, we spent almost an hour trying to pick him out in the fall colored cover he was hiding in. Even knowing exactly where he was, it was nearly impossible to make him out. I think Leo perhaps felt a little out of sorts not being able to see or make out the deer. But when another hunter spooked him from his hide, he hopped uphill into an opening.
As several of us struggled to keep eyes on the deer, Leo announced that he had him in his scope. Having previously dialed the proper elevation for the three-hundred yard shot, I told him if you’ve got a shot, go a head and take it.

I watched the hillside through my binoculars excitedly waiting to see how it would go. The chamber of Leo’s rifle carried a 122 grain Cayuga solid copper bullet loaded in a 6.5 Creedmoor case. The rifle itself was a Ruger American that he had practiced with earlier that year. On top of the rifle was a US Optics TS25X riflescope that Leo now had centered on the buck across the draw.

When his shot broke, the blast had been tamed by the Yankee Hill Machine Nitro N20. We both watched intently as the bullet cut the distance and hit the deer.
We kept watching him until he went down, where Leo and a friend closed in on him.

From there, we all followed their path to the thorny and burr covered thicket where Leo was already elbow deep in guts. We took pictures and shared congratulations and a hug.

After putting in the work, Leo had his very first buck in hand. We stumbled back down the way we’d come in, dragging the little buck towards our vehicle. I am quite sure that Leo enjoyed his experience and will likely return next season for round two. After hanging the buck in my skinning tree at home, we cleaned him up and made a delicious meal with deer tenderloins as the center-piece. Garden vegetables made it even more delectable.

As Leo and I sat at the table, chewing on the tasty spoils of our days work, I contemplated the conundrum we all find ourselves in. We are destined to spend the first half of our hunting career learning and sharing with familiar old faces of fathers, uncles, and other family and friends. And at some point in our life, it switches to being the familiar old face. I wouldn’t say one is better than the other, I can only hope that someday my children will think back to the old days when I taught them and led them through these steep Rocky Mountains. And with any luck they will harbor the same warm feelings I do remembering the great men who showed them to me.

-CBM

Blessings in Disguise: A deer hunting story

April 5, 2022blog, huntingbuck, deer hunting, hunting, mule deercoldboremiracle

This deer hunting story was originally written in October 2011

As some of you may or may not recall, after a lot of health problems and a Kidney transplant, I took my Dad hunting with us this year. He drew a cow elk tag, and a Buck tag, myself and my brothers had similar tags to go along.
Well, this year things were a bit off. Everything that has ever worked for me in the past didn’t work, we were always in the wrong place or something else happened to screw it up. My elk hunting honey hole seemed to have plenty of elk, but never any close enough for Dad to feel comfortable with.

We usually get a bull or two, and always the cows. But this year we didn’t get a thing, I felt horrible because Dad was so excited to go, and there was simply nothing that could be done. We still had as good a time as we could, and enjoyed the time out.

After a dismal elk hunt, the deer hunt started. I had high hopes, but I was worried after the elk hunt turned out to be a bust.
The deer hunt turned out to be quite the same, the first four days we didn’t even see a buck. I gave up on that spot and we left and headed home, I asked Dad if he wanted to try another spot a little closer to home. The next day we went to another of my old standby hunting spots, that was a bad move. Not only did we not see a single deer but on our way out, we were climbing up an ugly hill on the 4wheelers and Dad hit a rock just right and knocked his machine over. His pride and joy Grizzly rolled over the top of him and end over end for a hundred yards or so until it luckily stopped in a tree.

Had it not it would have been gone forever. I stopped to see what was keeping him, and I thought for sure he was dead when I heard his bike rolling down the mountain behind me. He wasn’t hurt too bad, just scratched up and a bit bloody. I was working in a panic to get his bike out, gather his stuff that was scattered all over the hillside, including his broken rifle, just in case he needed medical attention, but by the time we got out it was pretty clear that he was gonna be ok. After that mess, Dad was pretty much out of excitement for hunting, and I had pretty much given up as well.
My brother in law called me Friday night and asked me if I wanted to go out with him Saturday morning, I didn’t know what to expect but I knew I’d never get a deer sitting home doing honey do’s.

So I went out with him, we saw a lot of this kinda stuff:

seen through my **Nikon Monarch fieldscope**

But we kept after it, and went on looking. After a couple hours and a good nap, we found a bunch of does out on a brushy flat. Several more kept appearing in the distance. I kept watching, and at the end of the flat I saw a deer that was too heavy to be a doe, I looked hard and quickly put antlers on him. I couldn’t tell how big he was, only that he was a buck, and that was good enough for me at this point in the game.
I hit him with my rangefinder, and he was around six-hundred and fifty yards moving just fast enough in the wrong direction. I watched him go into some deep and tall sagebrush, my brother in law sat and watched, while I sprinted towards the brush patch. On my way there, four more doe’s jumped out and started running towards the buck’s last known position. I knew they would tattle on me as soon as they got there so I kept running.

The fleeing does seemed perplexed that I continued running but not after them. As I moved, I scanned the terrain ahead for a good shooting position. I found one, a clear spot in the grass slightly elevated with a good view of the patch where the buck was still hidden. I laid down and ranged the doe’s as they began emerging on the far side of the brush patch, just shy of four-hundred yards, one after another they came out, I figured he would be last.

He came out of the brush like a ghost, he just appeared, I had already dialed my elevation, I was doping the wind which was left to right. I held my wind correction and pressed the trigger, the buck reared up on his hind legs as though I’d hit him, I listened for the familiar smack sound to return to me, but it never did. I settled back upon him and to my surprise he was still there, I ran the bolt fast and sent a second 175gr Sierra Match King.

I watched through the recoil and saw only his shape settle in the tall grass, his feet up in the air. My brother in law was still four-hundred yards or so behind me, and didn’t even know I had taken a shot. I had to do a victory dance with my hat in the air for him to start making his way down.

I made my way to the buck, still unsure of how big or small he was. I was quite surprised when I saw this:

My old Savage FP10 chambered in **308 Win** with a **Leupold MkIV**

He was definitely past his prime, his teeth were about to fall out. I was nonetheless happy to have found him, and we took him home happy as we’d been in weeks. It was a rough hunting season, and he is perhaps the ugliest buck I’ve ever seen, but he was a blessing in a very ugly disguise.

-CBM

Need more deer hunting in your life? Read these too.

Spicy Venison Skewers

March 29, 2022KitchenDeer, kabob, mule deer, spicy, venisoncoldboremiracle

Every now and then a brilliant idea comes to me, nothing earth shattering or anything, just a plain good idea. As I was coming down off of the mountains the other day, my stomach made me quite aware that we’d skipped breakfast several hours earlier. So as my thoughts wandered about the delicious meal I needed to make upon arriving at the house, I put this together; Spicy Venison Skewers.

CLICK HERE for more great information on better venison prep.

meat skewers — Stacking the meat and veggies onto **stainless skewers**

It’s probably been a million years since the first dude stuck a piece of meat on a stick over a fire, so I surely wont make any claims to that idea. But today I was going to try something a little different, and it started with a two year old deer backstrap that had been resting quietly in the freezer. I thawed it out, but before it lost its stiff composure I sliced it into thin quarter-inch sized slices. From there it went into a bowl where it was seasoned with soy sauce, salt & pepper, garlic salt, a touch of paprika and some avocado oil. As the mixture lay resting and soaking on the counter coming to room temp, I finely chopped some beef suet that I had left over from making burgers. I rendered the fat down until I had a half-cup or so of liquid fat, which I also left to cool to near room temp. Just before the fat began to lose it’s liquid flow, I dumped it in on top of the meat, and rolled everything around so it was evenly coated.

Once the meat was fully coated, I sliced white onion and green chilis to roughly the same size and thickness as the meat. Then it all was skewered onto two sticks (to keep everything from spinning), I stacked them: meat, chili, meat onion, meat chili, meat onion and so on.

As I stacked them up, I was careful to spread as much of the liquid marinade running off the meat onto the veggies, and when I was done, I had two heavy kabobs of spicy delicious venison. I gave them one last dusting of course salt, and set them onto a scorching hot grill.

After a few minutes or so, I rolled them to keep the oil from all running off the kabob. Just enough to keep both sides evenly cooked I would rotate them until the meat was just about done. The veggies were mostly soft and a little roasted, but still had a bit of crisp in the middle. And the meat was still rare in the middle. I took them off and let them rest for a few minutes before pulling out the skewers and digging in.

Despite being older deer from the freezer, there was nothing but a delicious flavor from this recipe. The meat tasted like a rib eye cap, and was so tender you could cut it with your fork. Together with the spiciness of the green chilis and the mild sweet flavor of the onions it was the perfect treat after a long day in the woods. Give it a try and see for yourself.
-CBM

My Wife’s First Buck

February 10, 2022huntingDeer, deer hunting, first buck, hunting, mule deer, womencoldboremiracle

Women in Hunting

Women are perhaps the fastest growing group of hunters, and they makeup a large subculture in the gun community overall. Being myself a staunch advocate for the hunting lifestyle, I always embrace the opportunity to add another hunter to our community. But in today’s case it was part of my own family that would join the fold, today is the story of my wife’s first buck.

My wife grew up in a family where hunting was not the norm, but it was common enough for her to be familiar with the idea and even a little excited to try it. The 2020 hunting season was her very first opportunity to take her first big game animal, together we made it an adventure that was nothing short of a perfect introduction to hunting as a lifestyle. She has since been preparing delicious meals for our children with meat that she took herself.

This year was her first time going after a Mule deer buck, and our goal was to make it as fun and meaningful as possible. A large part of this plan was to make her a self sufficient hunter, able to accomplish the task on her own merits. Since she has used my rifle in the past, a rifle of her own would be fundamental. And as it happens, the perfect rifle just happened to join our collection. My wife is quite petite, so a rifle small enough to manipulate and carry would be crucial for her.

The Browning X Bolt Hells Canyon Speed

The Browning X bolt is a fine rifle, and the Hells Canyon (HC) model is a fancier version of the base rifle. The X Bolt HC Speed came to us in a twenty-two inch 6.5 Creedmoor, in a composite ATACS camo stock and burnt bronze Cerakote. It is a very refined hunting rifle, with many great features such as a detachable rotary box magazine, recoil reducing muzzle brake, and a soft recoil pad at the rear. It’s quite a handsome little rifle, and it functions as good as it looks. The sixty-degree bolt throw is shorter and faster to run, and the adjustable trigger breaks like glass rod. There is much more to say about the X Bolt, click here to read all about it.

In order to match the rifle to it’s new owner, I mounted a Crimson Trace Hardline 3-12 scope in a set of low Warne rings. I wanted the rifle to fit her as best it could, I would have liked to chop a couple more inches off the barrel but time wouldn’t allow. Using a thread adaptor from Xcaliber Firearms I was able to mount a suppressor to the rifle, which is also another advantage for someone new to hunting. I mounted the very lightweight Yankee Hill Machine Nitro N20 suppressor built from all titanium, the recoil reduction and comfort far outweighed the ounces added to the rifle.

Practice Practice Practice

Despite having spent a fair amount of time behind a riflescope, I wanted to make sure she was comfortable as possible with her own rifle. So we spent a few trips going into the mountains to ensure she was familiar with every aspect of the rifle, and how to operate it quickly and under pressure. We took shots at targets out to five-hundred yards, and once she was comfortably hitting them with predictability, we added a time crunch. Putting a ten-second time limit to get on the rifle and make a good shot became a fun and useful game. With both rifle and shooter working in harmony, we counted down the days till the deer hunt started. Continue Reading Here…

THE HUNT

The first couple of days of the deer hunt were not as exciting as we had hoped. The weather was very uncooperative. The heavy rains turned to snow, making it very hard to see much in the mountains we hunt. If that weren’t enough, the wind was completely out of hand, at times blowing 30 to 40 mph. Due to the wind, snow, and rain, we had to let several bucks walk. So when the weather finally cleared up a bit, we felt confident that our time had come.

With limited time away from work to hunt and children to care for at home, we snuck away to the nearby mountains as frequently as we could. As the sun came up that morning, we sat behind binoculars and a spotting scope looking over the ridge before us. I had seen a few bucks there the night before, and I hoped they were still there.

After locating a group of deer on a shelf above us, we decided to make a move towards them should a shot present itself. But in one of hunting’s most classic blunders, our approach was blown when a young buck spotted us as we moved. Despite giving a few seconds for a shot, my newly minted hunter wasn’t able to connect. Feeling somewhat defeated and depressed, we returned home plotting our next venture into the hills.

SCOUTING FOR REDEMPTION

A few days later, we found ourselves again peering through binoculars at the bleached hillside at the lower elevation of our mountain range. Having patterned this group of deer for a few weeks now, we knew that they could easily appear. As afternoon turned to evening, does began to appear on a naturally occurring bench that runs along miles of mountainside. We decided to move up towards the bench, hoping the wind would stay in our favor as we climbed. We hiked closer and closer until it felt dangerously close to the deer, with the wind constantly shifting and threatening to blow our cover. We slowly worked over a hilltop, stopping every few feet to check for ears and antlers, which we eventually saw only a few hundred yards away with just another 20 or so yards left to crawl.

The deer began to move south of us along the bench. This worked out to be exactly what we needed as the deer became more and more visible with each step. My wife was already setup on the rifle, and she quietly chambered a round as the deer began to move into view. The late evening sunlight poured against the hillside, illuminating the deer perfectly and bringing a yellowing hue to everything. The buck in the group moved into the open, feeding on bushes in and around the does.

THE SHOT

A hunter with a deer — The X-Bolt and hunter did their parts to claim this deer

When he paused for a moment, we knew it was the perfect time to shoot. My wife was as ready as could be and with a stable shooting position, she quietly announced that she was taking the shot. The 140-grain bullet made an impressive wallop sound as it impacted the deer’s right side. He stumbled to the ground and let out one last breath as he settled into the grass.

The remaining deer defensively jumped and looked around, but they had no idea where the threat had come from. That was perhaps the best sign that our stalk had been a perfect one.

We slowly approached the downed deer and knelt down beside him. He was a beautiful and healthy young buck. After giving him the due reverence such a moment deserves, we dressed him and headed back down the trail. The buck has since become a permanent feature in our kitchen, made into delicious meals for family and friends.

CONCLUSION

The little Browning X-Bolt ended up being the perfect companion for this hunt. My wife felt confident and ready to take on the challenge. All the practice and time behind the rifle paid off. She told me after the shot that everything felt right as she put her finger on that golden trigger. Good equipment like the X-Bolt and the right amount of trigger time will do that, and now we prepare for the next hunt.

-CBM

Mule Deer Hunting: 2020 Doom and Gloom

December 3, 2020huntingDeer, deer hunting, hunting, mule deercoldboremiracle

Introduction

The year Twenty-twenty has claimed plenty of fame both in good things and bad, the year prior having been less than plentiful when it came to deer hunting, I was cautiously optimistic about 2020. It was in that mindset that my Son and I headed up into the cold and cloudy Rocky Mountains well before sunrise. It was six or so days into a ten day deer hunt, and neither of us had fired a shot. We shared many things that morning, we both had a buck tag in our pocket, and we’d only brought one gun, the 257 Blackjack that I call Pitboss. But even the tainted doom of 2020 couldn’t keep us from sharing the adventure that awaited us mule deer hunting at nine-thousand feet.

A Pressured Hunt

As the days of the deer hunt waned, I felt a familiar feeling that things were going to work out. Everything that morning had come together as though it was meant to be, so my optimism was at overdrive as the cold wind blew over our backs, and the first slivers of orange light began to peak over the horizon.

Junior and I were looking over a steep alpine valley high at the top of the Wasatch Mountains, its a place we are very familiar with, having spent countless hours hunting Marmots, squirrels and other varmints during the brief summer there. The last bits of snow from the previous winter had only just melted a month or two prior. We watched over this well known to us valley, looking for the faint signs of movement in the early pre-dawn light. The ice-cold wind was making my fingers stiff, and biting at my nose and ears while I peered furiously through my binoculars hoping to see motion. We had seen several deer in this valley in days prior to this, so I was working on a hunch that a good buck or two had moved in with them.

I wish I had the power to stop time, that magical ten to twenty minutes immediately following first light, seems to be the most productive time of day where we hunt. As I watched my son hunker over trying to keep warm, it reminded me of the other reason I wished I could control time. The time we spend together has never been enough for me, and as he has grown into a young man, that time seems even more fleeting and precious.

Opportunity Knocks

As we both resisted the wind, the sunlight advanced, and in just a few moments I had picked out a couple white rumps of a few mule deer does on a rise down in our little valley. I had my Nikon spotting scope setup, prepared to investigate any potential prey, so I switched over to it and began to pick them out one by one. In almost no time at all, I had found just what I was looking for, a handsome little buck casually feeding alongside a few does. I say little, but he was actually the best buck we had seen since the hunt began.

I pointed him out to my son, who quickly got into position behind the Blackjack. We waited as the buck calmly moved along, the sunlight brightening almost by the second it seemed. The range to the buck was just shy of five hundred yards, a chip-shot for the rifle, and Junior had been well trained for a shot like that. Everything was lining up just as I had felt it would that morning, Junior lay still behind the rifle, slowly following the buck as we waited for a perfect broadside shot. I had dialed the elevation into the US Optics Foundation 25X, and it was just a matter of time now.

Time to Shoot

As the buck noticed the orange light growing around him, I’d like to think that he too was admiring the beauty that lay all around us. He stood there motionless, looking into the sunlight with his stocky body in clear view. I told Junior to drop him, and in a sudden rush of excitement it was all over. It may have been the excitement, buck fever, or maybe his fingers were numb from the biting cold wind, but Junior just plain missed. And for an excruciating thirty-seconds, I had to sit there and watch this buck look around, wondering what had happened. Junior couldn’t get the buck back in the scope, and I watched as he casually trotted off into the forest below.

All my positive expectations of mule deer hunting that morning seemed to trot off into the trees as well. I was a bit distrustful of what had just happened, how could it all come together like that, and fall apart in a matter of seconds? All I had wanted was to pull off a bit of success with my son. We walked back out the way we had come in, all the deer had moved into the trees, spooked by our shot. I did my best to stay positive, and we moved on to another one of my hides. I’m sure that I was more upset about the miss than my son was, his excitement for hunting isn’t what it used to be. We stopped to look into another deep canyon, one we had also seen deer in the past.

My Turn

I peered into the wind swept canyon, spotting a few does feeding away from us. I was determined that we weren’t leaving empty-handed. I looked harder and harder trying to make out either antlers or additional deer, and after a few minutes I spotted three more working uphill from below the others. As soon as I laid eyes on the very last deer, I knew that we were going home heavy. He wasn’t a big buck, but he was exactly what we needed that day, a chance to be successful. It was my turn to take a shot, so I scrambled into a good shooting position, and began my procedure. First I hit him with my Sig Sauer Kilo rangefinder, to cross reference with my drop. The 257 Blackjack is extremely flat-shooting, and with the slight down angle of the slope, my corrected elevation was 2.1 MRAD for the 715 yard shot. The distant buck had no idea we were there, but he was still making his way towards the ridge-line that would allow him to slip away forever. Junior spotted for me through the spotting scope as I prepped for the shot, the deer made his way through the brush until he stopped hard, giving me a good broadside shot. The Blackjack had never let me down, and today wasn’t going to be that day.

As the buck stood there taking his last look, I watched through the scope having already broke the trigger. As the intensity of the moment seemed to slow time, I watched the 131 grain Ace fly downrange, boiling the air around it. The trace continued down the canyon, and disappeared into the left side of the deer, breaking through one of his ribs low in the brisket. The buck reared back, and turned back downhill the way he had come. After just a few strides he disappeared into the brush, as we both watched through our scopes. It was time to pack up. We left everything that we didn’t need, and started down the canyon into the prickly and noisy brush. At times it was shoulder deep.

My custom 257 Blackjack, with Proof Research carbon barrel, IOTA Carbon stock, and US Optics FDN25X

Recovery

My wind call wasn’t perfect, and I’d hit him a little further back than I would have liked to. But in the end it worked just fine, the buck left a vivid trail into some deep brush, leaving bits and pieces of himself along the way. I made it to the buck first, and Junior followed me. We sat down next to him, and appreciated the moment. My despair about the mornings events had been in vain, our doubt swallowed up by the excitement and satisfaction. As I laid hands on this beautiful little buck I was again as always overwhelmed with gratitude and appreciation.

Above: Junior and I / Below: The 257 Blackjack

As luck would have it, a good friend and his sons were mule deer hunting that day as well, and after a quick call, they headed our way. Junior and I began working on the meat, the trophy we’d take home. We carefully broke him down, keeping the pieces clean, and hanging them in a nearby tree so it could cool in the icy mountain breeze. After a couple hours, with help from our friends, we strapped all the pieces of the buck to our packs and began making our way back up the canyon.

Meat cooling in the breeze, and Junior going full carnivore

Final Thoughts

I love whatever it is that drives me to this autumn challenge every year, is it the carnivore deep inside me? Is it instinct? The challenge that we embrace every time we go after these and other animals seems to be programmed into my soul, I often wonder if its possible to get enough. If it is, I hope I never get there, but if I do, I hope its not by myself.

-CBM