I live in whitetail country so this was my first mule deer. Spotted a real toad opening day about 10000' and after a 3000' 4.5 hour stalk that took me on the backside of the mountain into cliffs and boulder fields, just to pop back over to where he was last bedded. He changed beds and I spooked him at 30 yards, thinking I was still 150 yards or so out. I was heart broken, and by the time I got back to the trail in the bottom physically cramping as well. On the last morning of my hunt, admittedly in much gentler country, less than a mile from the pickup, I stumbled across this guy with a few of his buddies bedded in a perfect spot for a stalk. I slipped around, took off my boots and crept over the hill. I saw a tine as he was bedded at 18 yards but a goofy 20" spike I did not see initially spotted me first and stood up at 4 yards. After a brief stare down with him, I quickly ranged the far side of the draw where I thought the buck would run to if spooked and a patch of ground with missing sage was 43 yards. I drew my bow, spooked the spike, and at that time this buck jumped up and I'll be damned if he didn't run to the exact patch of missing sage and stop slightly quartering away. I pulled through and watched my arrow pass through right behind the shoulder. He ran maybe 30 yards and my hunt was over. I had my hopes set on a much larger buck but I will forever fondly remember this trip.