Eastmans’ Hunting Journal

30 Years in the Making

Ron G. Harkins-Arizona-2006-Public Land-Guided

July 24, 2006 started out just like any other day. But when my brother-in-law, Bill Nebeker, called me from Prescott, Arizona it became anything but typical. He told me we had both been drawn for mule deer on the Arizona Strip. Bill and I have been hunting together for 36 years, and for 30 of them we’ve been putting in together for the coveted Arizona Strip tag. For 29, we were drawn for other units. This year we had put in separately because I had moved to Montgomery, Alabama and had to put in for an out-of-state tag.

Only 40 tags were drawn this year. Thirty-six tags were drawn for residents and four for out-of-state hunters. There is only a one percent chance of being drawn. So you can imagine the surprise and elation when we found out we were both drawn. Some might call it luck, but I’d like to think God was looking out for two old hunters who had been dreaming of opportunity. By the time the hunt would start, I would be 63 and Bill would be 64. We had pretty much given up on ever being able to hunt there. The four-month wait for the hunt to begin seemed longer than the years we had spent waiting to be drawn.

If you are a serious mule deer hunter, you know the Arizona Strip is the “Holy Grail” of mule deer hunting. The unit is about 1,600 square miles; roughly the size of Delaware. It ranges from 4,500 feet to 8,000 feet in elevation. It has deserts, canyons, mesas and pine covered mountains. There are no motels, restaurants or gas stations – just the kind of place mule deer need in order to grow into the “monsters” it’s known for.

We contacted a longtime friend, Chad Smith, who owns a Vaquero Outfitters, and asked him to supply us a guide. August and September crept by. A deer hunt in Wyoming in October helped Bill and I get our equipment ready and our bodies in shape for the Arizona Strip hunt.

On November 15, Bill and I and our friend and hunting partner, John Higley, arrived in camp. John had not been drawn, but wanted to be with us on this memorable hunt. At the camp we met our guide, Matt Schimberg. I wasn’t feeling very well and began throwing up all over the side of the hill we had climbed to scout. I was sick all night and most of the next morning. This was not the way to start the “hunt of a lifetime”. I was able to scout that evening and saw a small 5x4 buck. It seemed I’d be fine for opening day.

Early on, we saw a wide two-point with some does. Later, we jumped a big-four point, but lost him in the trees. We hunted him the rest of the day, but saw only a few does and another small buck.

The second morning we hunted the spot where we had seen the big hour-point, but we never saw him again. I decided to go off on my own and hunt a series of ridges. Matt and Bill would hunt another area and we would meet on the road in three and a half hours. On my hunt I saw two small bucks and several does. Matt and Bill also failed to spot any shooters.

We had barely begun our hike the third morning when we caught a glimpse of a “monster” buck crossing a clearing, heading for more trees. We spent hours looking, but never saw him again.

On the way back to camp, Matt told us this was the warmest November in years. The deer were not moving after sunrise or before sunset, so this would not be an easy hunt.

Day four came and went with the same results. We saw several bucks but nothing big. All we got was exercise.

Day five was much the same. The only deer we saw was a small buck in the headlights on the way to our hunting area. We had hunted for that big buck for three days without any results. I wanted to do something different the next day.

It didn’t seem to matter what we did. Day six was no different. Matt and I crossed ridges and valleys on foot for five and a half hours and never saw a deer. Tomorrow would be the seventh dayof our hunt and the last day we would have a guide.

Happy Thanksgiving! Day seven was pretty much the same as the last three days.

We went back to see if we could find the big buck. We’d try one more time while we had the guides. Bill put a stalk on a fairly large buck, but wasn’t able to get within range. I hiked and glassed a different area and jumped a buck, but all I saw was his tracks. That evening we sat at a tank. Bill got sick and went back to the truck. I stayed until dark and saw only a bobcat. Bill was sick all night.

Bill was asleep when I left camp on day eight. I saw four small bucks but nothing I was interested in. What I did find was an area that looked promising.

I was excited to tell Bill about it. When I got back to camp the last hunter and guide were packing to leave. Bill was feeling better and wanted to go on an evening hunt.

When we returned, all that was left was a stack of wood and our camp trailer. Our friend, John, had left the day before Thanksgiving to go cook at an elk camp. It was very quiet. We built a big fire just to keep us company.

The morning of day nine we went back to the tank where I’d seen a buck the night before. The area was full of tracks, but all we saw was a same small buck we’d seen before. After lunch and a little rest we left to glass the new area I had found. We had been there about an hour when I found a buck standing on a small knob in the middle of the sage flat.

Bill said it looked like a good buck. It was quite wide and seemed to be a four point. It was getting late, so I decided to go ahead and stalk him. I got to within 100 yards, took a deep breath and fired. He dropped in his tracks. It wasn’t a “monster,” but it was the biggest mule deer I’d ever taken. It was a 5X4 that just missed the 30-inch mark.

Bill left camp on day 10, our last day, with no clear plan. When we got to the intersection where the road went to the area I had taken my buck the evening before, he turned. I asked him why and he said he had no idea – and just kept going.

The sun had just risen when we spotted a “monster” buck about 100 yards in front of us. The buck ran into some trees on the east side of the road. Bill grabbed his rifle and we headed to where the deer disappeared. We got to the trees and slowly made our way through them. After about 40 yards we came out of the trees and into a clearing. There stood the “monster” buck. After ranging him at 324 yards, bill squeezed a shot off. The buck of a lifetime dropped where he stood. Bill chambered another cartridge, but it wasn’t necessary. We stood there for about 10 minutes shaking from the excitement and the cold before making our way over to the deer. It was 35 ½ inches wide, had seven points on one side, five points on the other and was very heavy. It was a true “monster” buck.

I told bill, “I guess you picked the right road.” Bill replied, “I think I had some help,” and pointed to the sky. We went back to camp and took care of his deer. We hung it in a tree to cool and started packing up camp. Bill was as excited as I had ever seen him. He had a good reason to be. We knew his deer could score well over 200.

It had been a long, hot, hard hunt. Even though we got both deer after guides left, we were thankful they had been there to show us the country and teach us about the Arizona Strip deer. They worked hard for us and we were grateful for their guidance and help.

We headed home knowing this might be our one and only hunt in this legendary area. It took us 30 years to get drawn for this hunt. At our age, who knows if we would ever be drawn again? We both hunted hard from daylight to dark, pushing ourselves to the limit. We followed guides half our age, who never seemed to be breathing hard. It was exciting, exhilarating and rewarding. The aches and pains have disappeared, but the memories of this hunt will live as long as Bill and I do. -EHJ