What a busy little man I was trying to tag a buck and do all the holiday stuff while I was scheduled to fly out to Texas for work, which was going to make me miss the last weekend of the season. And that weekend can be the best.

Well now I'm back so I have a little time to share this.

That morning started out cold, clear, and a nice dusting of snow on the ground that made for awesome glassing and scenery as I slipped down the mountain side toward my roosting point. Shortly after sitting on my little rock 4 does were easing their way back toward their bedding area with a little can opener right on their trail. I thought to myself there must not be a sizeable buck in here.

Shortly after they were out of sight I started to hear foot steps but couldn't tell where it was coming from. It litterally sounded like it was in my lap. It was three does on a trail below my rock about 8 yards away and I was only about 12 feet up which made them look extremely close. As I'm sitting there I'm thinking how can I get my camera out to record these gals when my mind immediatley shifted to how in the he!! am I going to get my gun to my shoulder without getting busted! This ol man was crunching through the snow right on their heals at spitting distance! I had to let them get just a little ways past me before I made my move. My scope was filled with nothing but hair because I had it set to full power, which I never do, but that morning I remember telling myself that any shot here would be far. Ha! I'd been better off with a bow. In a rushed moment I found his head and pulled the cross hairs down his neck toward where I hoped was an ideal spot on the shoulder. A jolt from my rifle led me to see his hind legs kick and I knew it was a good shot unitl he ran a few yards and stopped to look around. "OH NO!" I thought, so I chambered another round and fired a desperate shot through a clutter of tangled branches and vines. He ran over by a rock where I witnessed the famous backwards walk wobble and then lost sight of him. I just knew he was down.

After getting myself together, all the while still staring in the last spot I saw him, I seen him sneak off around that rock. Everyone knows that sickening feeling that erased my excitement. You don't get many chances with these mountain bucks or any big buck for that matter and you have to make it count when the oppurtunity arises, and I just cost myself a nice one because I left my scope turned up.

I decided after about 30 minutes that I needed to get down and see if I could find blood, bones, guts, or whatever might lead me to know what kind of shot I made or didn't make. There wasn't any blood where I shot so I eased over to where I expected to see blood by the rock where I had last seen him and a BIG FAT NOTHING... This was not good. I was almost certain I hit him but I'm really starting to doubt it at this point. I decided to take up the trail his heavy tracks were in and see where this situation might lead. A single leaf filled with watery blood confirmed a hit, but I suspected a flesh wound or something non fatal. I now knew this deer either kept on running for the hills or he was injured and bedded and if another shot presented itself, I was going to have to be quick and have a whole lot of luck on my side.

As I inched down the trail with a keen eye glassing the benches below with my binos, the sound of rocks clattering above alerted me to ready my rifle! This buck had climbed his way up the mountain to bed in some rocks below a bluff. I had one shot presented to me before he rounded a knoll out of my life and I honestly don't even know where my cross hairs were when I squeezed the trigger to watch him tumble about 30 plus feet down the mountain to his final resting place. I litterally thought he was going to break his main beams as he tumbeled down but somehow they managed to stay in one piece. Sheww!!! Relief at last and what an awesome end to the season!

BTW, luck was on my side cause the shot hit him behind the ear.

it's a long way to the top if ya wanna rock 'n' roll