'One' Great Hunt

When the clerk at the Game and Fish Department handed me the tag I just purchased she said, ‘You get the first one!’ I looked down and the number on the tag read 0001, it was the first tag sold in 2011. Little did I know how the number ‘one’ would hold a significant meaning to me in just a few short months.

My wife Judy had drawn a North Dakota elk tag, so the opening weekend found us perched high on a badlands butte glassing for these tan nomadic creatures. We had scouted together several weekends prior to the season and although I had spotted one cow elk in this very drainage we now overlook, Judy had yet to feast her eyes on an elk outside the park.

The opening Saturday was filled with anticipation as we hiked quietly in the dark for 45 minutes to reach the high butte vantage point. It was here where I had spotted the cow just days before and was now hoping a bull would be nearby. As we settled in and waited for the sun to splash sunlight onto the basin, we both reflected on how fortunate we are to have an opportunity to experience these great resources that God has to share with us.

The dawn broke quickly and bringing with it a brisk crosswind through the valley floor. We soon found several mule deer bucks together feeding, two of them were nice mature animals and all in their velvet attire.

As we continued to glass, I spotted a lone buck feeding in the basin directly below us. He was a good buck with deep forks and what looked like very nice velvet. This buck would work his way along the creek bottom feeding contently. I pointed him out to Judy that he was buck number seven that we’d seen that morning. And with that I went back to searching for elk. 

Judy started watching the buck and mentioned several times how nice he was and soon was coaxing me into going after him. I agreed that he was in a spot for a stalk but I told her I didn’t want to mess up her elk hunt if there are elk in the area. Several more minutes went by and several more times she pushed me to give it a try. She said he is a very nice buck, you have nothing to lose.

As all good husbands should do, I listen to my wife, unstrapped my Mathews bow from my Black’s Creek pack, grabbed my release and planned a stalk. This would be a tough stalk but I had three things in my favor; he was alone, the wind was right and my wife’s good luck would be on my shoulder.

Dropping down off the big butte I quickly closed ground using the timbered ravines for concealment. I had marked my landmarks and decided the best approached would be directly at him using trees and high brush to cover my movements and the wind to mask my scent. The buck would continue to feed along the opposite side of the creek but with the grass being so tall he would remain out of site. I closed the distance to the creek to less than fifty yards, glassing and ranging trees intermittently not knowing when he would show up. With an arrow knocked, I reached a tree near the creek edge and saw antler movement to my left. I quickly ranged the buck at 31 yards. As I drew my bow and stepped under a branch of a tree, he spotted movement. At this point I had already settled my pin on where his chest was in the tall grass and to this point I still do not remember squeezing the release.

The arrow disappeared through the grass and I heard the hollow thump of arrow hit his chest. The big buck bolted to a cut bank 40 yards away and staggered trying to keep his feet as the blood poured from the wound. I knew he was hit hard.
 I quickly backed out of the area and signaled to Judy to bring the packs and I met her as she came off the butte. The smile on her face was as if she had shot the buck. She was definitely as excited as I was and told me how she watched the whole stalk from the butte top. At one point while watching the buck, I appeared in her field of view. It was at that moment she thought I had missed or spooked the buck, and then she saw the blood gushing from his chest wound and knew the buck would not go far.

        
    After sharing the excitement, we retraced my steps, found my arrow and the buck less than fifty yards away. He was a great representative of his species and was crowned with deep forks and good mass, all wrapped in thick beautiful velvet.

            As I notched the month and day from my tag I once again glanced at the 0001 tag number, the ‘one’ would be much more than just a tag number, it would be my Number  ‘One’ bow killed buck. 

 





          
    So, day ‘One’ of the season, I did ‘One’ stalk, shot ‘One’ arrow, it was the ‘One’ time Judy watched me shoot a great velvet buck. I tagged the buck with the number 'One' tag for ND and this was my number 'One' muley with the bow.
    But, not quite everything added up, there were the two cacti in my hand that I got when taking photos and the three staples in my arm that closed the stab wound when I slipped with my knife while processing the buck. Regardless, having Judy with me to share the experience made it all worth it.

            This was ‘One’ great hunt!

    

Wayne’s Gear Bag:

Mathews Bow

Gold Tip Arrows

Rocky Mountain Titanium 100gr broadheads

Black’s Creek Backpacks

Rivers West Hunting Outerwear

Leupold RX1000 TBR Rangefinder

Pinnacle Wind River by Leupold 10 x 40 Binoculars

Garmin Oregon 450 GPS partnered with

    ND TRAX – Kirsch’s Outdoor Products

Taxidermy By: Nevada’s Wildlife Designs