The Hunt of a Lifetime

By: Pax Prentiss

My obsession for hunting mule deer began three years ago when Eric Pawlak from Cabela’s T.A.G.S. made an application for me on the Kaibab Plateau of Arizona. Although it was only my first year of applying, I was fortunate enough to draw the tag. Eric immediately referred me to Chad Smith of Vaquero Outfitters and assured me that he was the best outfitter in Arizona. After one conversation with Chad, I knew that Eric was right.

When I arrived at camp that evening, I met Matt Schimberg, the man who would not only be my guide for that hunt, but for many hunts to come—not only because of his great expertise in guiding and his enthusiasm for hunting. After hanging with Matt that night at camp, I learned more about his hunting experiences and particularly his passion hunting mule deer. A mutual respect grew between us as he learned about my precious hunting adventures and over the course of our hunt, Matt talked to me about the monster mule deer that could be found on the Kaibab and the Arizona Strip. Listening to Matt speak about these bucks ignited a craving in me to hunt only trophy-size animals. On the last day of that hunt, Bryon Goswick, who also works for Vaquero Outfitters, and his son, Clancy, arrived to help us. Bryon is another mule deer fanatic and together, the four of us worked at finding a qualified buck. With only a few minutes of shooting light left, we were able to harvest a 194-inch non-typical. It had been a cliff-hanger, but the waiting had definitely paid off.

In 2006, I was fortunate enough to obtain the Governor’s Mule Deer Tag for Arizona. Because of my confidence in Chad Smith of Vaquero Outfitters I booked the hunt with him. He immediately called Matt and Bryon and got the ball rolling.

On June 21, about six weeks before my hunt began, Matt and Bryon headed for the Arizona Strip to start scouting for my deer. Every few days I would get a call from Chad updating me on what Matt and Bryon had found. There were always great bucks in the 200-inch class to report about, but the true monster was yet to be found. However, on the evening of July 21st, after a rainstorm and a month after they had begun their search, Matt and Bryon climbed to the top of a mountain to glass. The sun had gone down and it was almost dark when Matt found the buck of all our dreams. The next morning, he called to describe the deer to me. All he could talk about was the mass and the width of this animal. He told me that this buck was probably 40 inches wide and that his mass was bigger than anything he had ever seen on the Strip. I was so excited I barely slept that night and I immediately made plans to go for the buck.

I joined Matt and Bryon on August 1st. by that time the guides, with a couple of breaks in between, had already spent 30 days of scouting on the Arizona Strip. I could tell that they were worn from lack of sleep and the long hikes up the mountain every morning to glass for our deer. Yet they were still eager to wake up at 2:30 the next morning to go look for the big buck. They told me that they had not been able to relocate the deer for several days and we were all worried that he had been taken off for parts unknown. A buck doesn’t get this big unless he is extremely intelligent and is the wariest of deer. He must also be supernaturally alert and cautious. On August 4th, Blake Chapman, another guide for Vaquero Outfitters, showed up to help out. The three of them kept looking day and night glassing every inch of the area.

Several days passed with still no sighting of the deer and the chances of finding him seemed slim. Although our hopes were flagging, the excitement of just looking for a buck of that size and thinking that he might still be in the area, was exhilarating. Then on August 6th, Bryon spotted the deer at daybreak! He kept his binoculars on him for several hours until the enormous buck bedded down in a thick bunch of juniper trees and sagebrush.

Matt and I immediately began our stalk, while Bryon and Blake sat glued to their binoculars high on a mountain. Matt carefully guided us to within about 200 yards of where we thought the deer had bedded down. We crouched down behind a dead log and looked at each other and without saying a word we both knew what the other was thinking, “Two hundred yards away was the buck of our dreams.” We were so close yet still so far away since this buck must have the instincts and caution of a fox crossing a frozen pond on thin ice.

The time now was around 2 pm and we had spent the entire morning stalking into our position. We suspected we might have a long wait because it was hot and mule deer like to stay bedded during the heat of the day. On top of that, there was a lot of brush in between us and the buck, and there was also a strong possibility he would move in a direction through the brush and trees that would not afford me a shot, but we couldn’t attempt to get closer without great rish of spooking the deer. The hot sun beat down relentlessly on our heads. Bryon and Blake had been glued to the binoculars since daybreak and while I sat on the dusty ground with Matt, I imagined how much strain and concentration it was taking Bryon and Blake to stay on the binoculars for nine hours without moving. I could see the sweat welling up and running down Matt’s face while neither of us dared to move a muscle. We were even breathing quietly as we knew that the slightest misstep on a buck of this caliber would mean never seeing him again.

In the excessive heat with no cover, time crawled and stretched. Our muscles ached from the cramped positions we were holding but we were determined not to move. It felt as if the sun would never cross the sky and the temperature had to be close to 100 degrees. However, after what seemed to be an eternity, the sun finally began to sink behind the mountain. Bryon and Blake had now been staring through their binoculars for twelve straight hours! I thought it would be only minutes until the buck left his bed to look for feed but the minutes continued to slip away into the dusty, dry evening. Matt and I sat like lions in the brush, waiting for our prey to show himself. I could feel my heart start to beat faster and faster as dark closed in on us. I knew that, one way or another, it would soon be over and either I would get a shot or I wouldn’t. it was almost fully dark when I realized that this buck was much smarter than I had ever believed possible. It was hard to believe, but that deer was not going to get up until it was fully dark! This animal of the wild had learned over the years when it was sage to move. As we sat there and waited, darkness settled in and our hopes lessened with every passing moment. Finally, when shooting light was over, matt and I looked at each other and accepted the painful fact that the buck had won the battle. We were learning firsthand just why he had frown to the incredible size we thought he was. The word ‘cautious’ falls far short of describing this exemplary deer. We quietly slipped out of our hiding places and crept away. Matt and I respected the deer for outsmarting us, as he had undoubtedly done to many other hunters in his time. That evening Bryon’s son, Clancy, arrived at camp to help us look for the deer. That night I lay in bed, restless. I could hardly wait for morning to come. We were all hoping we could locate the deer again, but it was possible that this wily old buck of might just be too smart for us all.

We arose in full dark at 2:30 and an early dawn found us all in position again. I could feel myself getting depressed. Thoughts of returning home empty-handed flooded my brain. Everybody tried to keep my hopes up, but I was sinking low. That night, as we lay in camp making battle plans for the next morning, I saw the biggest shooting star I had ever seen. This meteorite was so huge and bright that it lit up the entire night sky as it streaked across the valley, its tail hundreds of miles long. As it passed overhead, we were all astounded by its brilliance and its enormous size. Then it suddenly exploded into four other shooting stars right in front of our eyes! I think most hunters have a bit of a superstitious streak, and we all looked at each other, thinking, “This is a sign! Tomorrow we’re going to find that buck again!”

Again, at 2:30 the next morning, we crept out of our bedding and stalked into the area where we had last seen our buck. We got into position and Bryon, Blake and Clancy hiked to the top of the mountain. Within an hour, an excited Bryon called down saying he had sighted him. I thought, “The shooting star!” The trio on the mountain kept their eyes glued to the binoculars, filled with excitement as they followed the movements of the huge buck. After an hour or so, they saw him bed down about 60 yards from the top of a small hill, a mile away. We all agreed that Matt and I should attempt a stalk to see if we could get within shooting distance. Bryon, Blake and Clancy stayed back on top of the mountain to watch the deer through their binoculars as we cautiously began to move toward the hill. When Matt and I were within 1,000 yards of the deer it became evident that the buck had cannily chosen a very chosen a very thick bunch of brush and juniper trees in which to bed down. The buck had perfectly positioned himself so that the wind was blowing from the bottom of the hill up to him. This meant that the only way to get to him would be to come over the back of the hill, leaving us only about sixty yards from the bedded buck. Knowing how close we had to get to this deer and not wanting our packs to get in the way, we left them in the shade tree. Before leaving, we drank as much water as our stomachs would hold and we each took one small water bottle for the hike.

The day was already becoming hot, dry and dusty. Every time I took a step, I could hear the sound of crackling dirt and twigs beneath my boots. It seemed almost impossible to make a silent footstep. I kept asking myself as we crept slowly along, “Is getting within 60 yards of this buck an impossible task?” With every step I took, the small noises created by my weight convinced me that I’d never get within 60 yards without spooking this monarch. Yet Matt led the way and I followed. The closer we got to the top of the hill, the slower we moved. After a couple of hours of inching our way across the rocky ground, indicating that we were approximately 200 yards from the deer. He then whispered almost silently, “From here on, there can be zero mistakes!”

Quiet as shadows, we inched our way up the hill. Sweat ran in my eyes and my tongue was parched from the heat as we painstakingly crawled up the hill, picking up twigs and leaves and moving them quietly out of our way. Each movement was calculated and precise. When we were almost at the top, Matt stopped and took another stick and carved the number 100 in the ground indicating that we were 100 yards from the buck. Only 40 yards to go and we would be at the top of the hill, hopefully looking down on the buck.

It took us an hour to cover the next 20 yards as we cautiously chose each movement. Matt again stopped, took a stick, and this time carved the number 80 in the ground. The thought of being only 80 yards from this bedded giant caused my heart to race. Nervousness and anxiety took over. I thought of Bryon Blake, and Clancy who had been watching the deer though their binoculars now for six hours straight, making sure that if the buck moved we would know it instantly. We continued up the hill with small, precise movements, making absolutely sure not to make a sound.

At one o’clock, we reached the top of the hill and very slowly peered over the top. There was no sign of the buck! He had positioned himself behind a juniper tree, which was effectively blocking our view of him, thick brush grew with hardly a shooting lane anywhere. The more I observed the bedding choice of this deer, the more convinced I became of how extremely savvy he was. Matt and I got settled in and found a spot to set up for a shot. In the entire area, there was just one small lane, about four feet wide and just to the left of the juniper tree that shielded our buck. The narrow lane extended several hundred yards down the hill and would provide the shot I needed—if he moved in that direction at all! If the buck moved in any direction other than toward the narrow lane, I would lose him again. There was no shade for Matt and I anywhere and once again, we were forced to sit in the hot, broiling sun.

Twenty minutes later, Bryon radioed down and said that the buck was up! Matt and I looked frantically, but we couldn’t see him. My heart sank as I realized that this buck could move away from us without our ever even being able to spot him at all. Then suddenly, the buck’s antlers appeared above the brush, bobbing up and down as he walked away though the thick cover.

I was shocked at the size of his rack. I had never seen anything like it before. Adrenaline and excitement surged through by whole body as I thought, “That rack must be over 250 inches!” I prayed he would move into the small shooting lane so I could get a shot but he didn’t. Instead, he bedded down again about 75 yards farther away. It was a great relief to know that he hadn’t become aware of our presence yet. Matt and I quietly sat down again as the images of that giant rack floated in my mind’s eye. I thought, “What a privilege it is to be able to hunt a magnificent animal like this with people like Matt, Bryon, Blake, Clancy.”

I tried to collect my thoughts and calm myself as we sat there with the sun pounding on us. I watched Matt’s face go from red to redder and I thought for sure we would have blisters on our faces the next day. I wanted water so badly it nearly overpowered my thoughts of the deer. Over the course of the next three hours Bryon radioed us as the deer got up and bedded several times without ever stepping into our shooting lane. Each time, the big buck went a little farther away until he was about 175 yards from where we were in hiding.

At five o’clock, Bryon suddenly and excitedly radioed that the buck had just gotten up and that it looked as if he was headed for our shooting lane. Matt told me to get ready and I held my fun on my shooting sticks as steady as I could. A second later, the buck stepped into the narrow lane and this was my first time seeing all of him. My body began putting out a shot of adrenaline that nearly was my undoing. The huge buck, as if he had sensed his danger, moved almost too fast to get off a kill shot but Matt, being the great guide that he is, suddenly made a hoe call sound. The monster buck stopped for half a heartbeat, looking right at us. In that instant, I knew I would either bring him down or I would never see him again. As I peered through my scope, the size of his rack nearly threw off my aim. I could see his muscles bunch as he prepared to make his leap to freedom and in that split second, I squeezed the trigger. The impact on the buck from my John Bolliger Custom 7mm Ultra Mag was visible. I had shot him just in the back of his shoulder. A perfect shot, but even so, the great buck made a 50-yard run before crashing into a juniper tree. The shot was fatal. My heart was pounding so hard I nearly saw stars.

As we walked in toward him, his antlers loomed large and then larger. We had harvested a monster mule deer! Bryon, Blake and Clancy came down from the mountain and together we enjoyed this moment of success as the sun set behind the mountains. We had all fulfilled our dreams.

A master measurer from Safari Club International measured the buck’s rack at 41½ inches wide with just over 50 inches of mass. His three by four frame scored an impressive 200 inches and his final gross score was measured at 268! After the two month dry out period is over there is a mandatory 2% reduction for the velvet which should put this buck around 262 inches. That score should also put this buck in the SCI top ten for non-typical mule deer. Hunting with this dedicated crew of men is what made the experience so great. I would like to thank Matt, Bryon, Blake, and Clancy for helping me get the buck of my dreams. It would not have been possible without them and I want to thank Chad Smith of Vaquero Outfitters for putting together such a great group of guys to hunt with.

I want to thank my wonderful girlfriend, Jeanette, for watching over our household and taking care of our children in my absence and I would also like to thank my Dad for taking me on my first childhood hunts and instilling in me a love and respect for nature, because without that, none of this would have ever been possible. My wish is that all true hunters, at least once, get to experience their own “hunt of a lifetime.”