Desert Dan
Lil-Rokslider
Got my first coues buck over the weekend. I opted to go against the grain and hunt some low, flat, thick creek bottoms with a few small ridges and found a sweet little tucked away strip of land about 300 yards long and 100 yards wide hidden by a little ridge and some thick cover that opened up into a large flat field bordered by more of the same thick mesquite cover. There was too much sign to ignore and I knew nice bucks slipped in and out of those mesquites so I opted to hunt it for the opener. Other rifle hunters ignored the area and the deer were acting largely unpressured.
Opening day was largely uneventful but I did get a better view of the land. I had shots into that strip as well as at anything across the fields. On day two I was right back there. The afternoon wind really picked up but blew straight from the direction of that corner so with the wind in my favor I hunkered down behind my rifle watching the openings for any nice buck that felt safe stepping out. By late afternoon does had started to move through and since I had seen a few nice bucks trailing does prior to the hunt I kept watching. The trail was only 200 yards away and I was a little exposed so I really had to mind my movements. As I watched I looked to my right across the strip and saw nice tall antlers shining in the sun at 100 yards. He was either staring straight at me and I was already busted or he was facing away and I had a chance if I wanted. I slid up to my stool and glassed him.
I told myself before the hunt I would take any buck my gut told me to take and not let some pressure of taking only a monster set any expectations. At only 100 yards and in the relative open it only took a second for my gut to tell me I wanted to shoot so I swung the shooting sticks and rifle over to him, laid the crosshairs on his shoulder and fired. He bucked straight up and toppled over behind the tall grass dead on the spot. It all went down in less than thirty seconds. I don't remember actually glassing him up. I don't remember the sight of the crosshairs on him and I don't remember pulling the trigger. I remember that I did it, but don't remember it actually happening, if that makes sense. All I remember is the crack from the suppressor and then everything being completely silent. I had forgotten how everything slows down after the shot.
And with that my first coues rifle hunt was over. Not the biggest buck in the world but that doesn't matter much to me. I was content. I quartered him up as the sun set, got the meat and head on ice and enjoyed an extra finger of scotch next to the Christmas tree. Good day.
Opening day was largely uneventful but I did get a better view of the land. I had shots into that strip as well as at anything across the fields. On day two I was right back there. The afternoon wind really picked up but blew straight from the direction of that corner so with the wind in my favor I hunkered down behind my rifle watching the openings for any nice buck that felt safe stepping out. By late afternoon does had started to move through and since I had seen a few nice bucks trailing does prior to the hunt I kept watching. The trail was only 200 yards away and I was a little exposed so I really had to mind my movements. As I watched I looked to my right across the strip and saw nice tall antlers shining in the sun at 100 yards. He was either staring straight at me and I was already busted or he was facing away and I had a chance if I wanted. I slid up to my stool and glassed him.
I told myself before the hunt I would take any buck my gut told me to take and not let some pressure of taking only a monster set any expectations. At only 100 yards and in the relative open it only took a second for my gut to tell me I wanted to shoot so I swung the shooting sticks and rifle over to him, laid the crosshairs on his shoulder and fired. He bucked straight up and toppled over behind the tall grass dead on the spot. It all went down in less than thirty seconds. I don't remember actually glassing him up. I don't remember the sight of the crosshairs on him and I don't remember pulling the trigger. I remember that I did it, but don't remember it actually happening, if that makes sense. All I remember is the crack from the suppressor and then everything being completely silent. I had forgotten how everything slows down after the shot.
And with that my first coues rifle hunt was over. Not the biggest buck in the world but that doesn't matter much to me. I was content. I quartered him up as the sun set, got the meat and head on ice and enjoyed an extra finger of scotch next to the Christmas tree. Good day.
