Remembering A Deer Hunt

My wife and I had gotten up a couple hours before dawn, put on our packs and taken our guns and headed out into the hills. We drove from Oracle, Arizona down the mountain about 5 miles, then turned into the canyons where the Little Hills Mine operated. Little Hills Mine is primarily a copper mine with Molybdenum, Lead and Silver recovery also. To hunt on the mine property we had to sign wavers but this morning we were simply crossing the mine property. I had called ahead and let them know.

The area is a good thousand feet lower in elevation than where we lived, with lots of rough country in between consisting of steep canyons and rocky hills. It is cut up pretty well, assuring that if you want to go in a straight line you will be doing a lot climbing up and coming down rough country. Many of the hillsides are too steep to traverse and often you make better progress by going a mile or so out of your way. I had been hunting this country for a few years and was used to it but my wife was not.

We parked the truck on an overlook of one of the canyons and headed out looking for Mule Deer. I had a backpack with food and water and some first aid stuff. I was wearing my Ruger Blackhawk .45 Colt in a shoulder holster. It was loaded with the 300 gr. #457191 bullet at a bit over 1100 fps. My wife was carrying her Model 600 Remington .243 loaded with the 95 gr. Nosler Partition bullet. Just about daylight we headed into the canyons.

Our climb down into the canyon in front of us was fairly easy as there was an old road bulldozed into the hillsides that switchbacked its way down to the bottom. Once there we headed up the canyon to a pass I knew where we could cross over the small mountain in front of us. I had previously seen quite a few Mule Deer over in that country. For the next 2 1/2 or 3 hours we climbed ridges and glassed the country around us without seeing any deer. We had worked our way back up toward Oracle several miles and some elevation gain. Twyla was getting pretty tired and her boots were hurting her feet.

We stopped at the base of a large hill and I told her we needed to climb the hill. From on top we could glass up toward a large pond that the game and the cattle used a lot. She was not too hot on climbing the hill but after resting a bit she said, "Let's go."

The climb was very steep and at times I had to get good footing, then take her hand and help her make it up over some rocks or places that were loose and wanted to roll out from under you. By the time we reached the top we both were breathing hard and though I did not know it, she was almost hyperventilating. She sat on a rock trying to catch her breath and I stood there, looking over the country. I did not pull out my binoculars and to this day I don't know why. I was just looking over the country. And suddenly I spotted a deer walking down toward the pond! It was far enough away I could not tell if it was a buck or a doe and I grabbed Twyla's rifle and found the deer in scope. As I looked the deer was heading downhill toward the water and I could see the sun shine off it's antlers. I swung the crosshairs past its nose and touched it off. At the shot I lost sight of the deer due to the recoil but Twyla said, "Oh my God Jim you got him!" and then she passed out cold!

I did not know where I hit the deer so I was looking to see if it got up ... BUT there lay my wife! So I bent down and said, "Twyla! Twyla! Are you OK?" and then I stood up and looked for the deer and then I bent down and did the same thing all over again. I think I did this about 3 or 4 times! Then she came to and sat up. I handed her the canteen and she took a big drink. I kept looking for the deer but never saw it and eventually I figured it was down. I worked with Twyla a bit and made sure she was OK ... which she assured me she was. She was just out of breath and then seeing the deer go down was too much excitement for her.

I looked at where I shot the deer and saw that I would have to go down the hill I was on, cross a flat heavy brushy area with a sand wash about halfway. Then I would have to climb another hill to get up to where the deer was. I made sure Twyla knew where I was heading, then had her stay on the hill to direct me. I knew it would look different once I got over there. Then I set off. It took me some time to work my way over to the hill and climb it. Once on top I looked for Twyla and saw which way she was pointing her arms. It took me a little time but eventually I found the deer and then signaled for her to come over. The bullet had taken the deer through the neck and broken it's spine. It was a far enough shot that even though the bullet started out at over 3100 fps, the deer had moved forward at least one step or a step and half while the bullet was crossing the distance.

I had the deer cleaned by the time she got to me. We admired the animal for a bit and then I started trying to figure out how to get it out. I had read about making a "pack" out of the deer. You slit the hind legs between the bone and the long tendon. Then you tuck the front feet into the slits and "put the deer on like a back pack" with its head over your shoulder. It was a long ways out of where we were so I figured to give it try. I cut the back legs and set it up like I had read about, then I had Twyla help me put it on. Man, it was HEAVY! I got it up on my back, adjusted it, and we started off. She was carrying her rifle and the backpack. We walked across the ridge and I was panting like an old dog. I stopped and rested a bit (without taking the deer off) and told her that we were gonna head for the mine road. It was closer than the truck and would be easier walking. We started again and had not gone 50 feet when some loose gravel slipped out from under my feet and down I went! I lay there a minute, got my breath back and tried to get up. And could not do it! Twyla had to help me get the deer off before I could get up. It pinned me to the ground.

After resting a bit we loaded up and started again and again I promptly fell down. By this time I knew there was no way I was gonna carry this thing out of hills. I told Twyla that she was gonna have to go back and get the truck, drive around to the Little Hills Mine entrance and come down the road several miles and find me. While she was getting the truck I would drag this sucker out to the road. We would probably meet up about the same time.

She took her rifle, the backpack and a sandwich and left me two sandwiches and the canteen. When she headed off I started dragging the deer by its antlers. Going downhill towards a sand wash wasn't too bad except the deer kept trying to pass me on the steep parts. Once I got into the sand wash it was smoother going but hard dragging. Somewhere along the way I ate both sandwiches. I had to climb over a small hill and that about wore me out dragging that deer up the hill. I drank the last of my water at the top of the hill. By then I could see the road so I got a fresh burst of energy and went on over the hill. Maybe a half hour later I was on the side of the dirt road the mine had made through their part of the canyons. Resting I looked the deer over and could see that I had worn the hair off its flanks when I was dragging it, but I had not worn through the hide into the meat. I had not set there by the road for too long when I heard the truck coming. She had made good time!

We loaded the deer in the truck and then I sat down and drank about a quart of water. Twyla had some cookies in the truck and I ate those as we went home. Once there I hung the deer on the front porch and later I boned it out. The old boy made a lot of meat. His rack was a nice one for that area and as I write this it hangs in the shop over my reloading bench .. worn and tired like me ... but a reminder of a great hunt with my wife. The year was 1980.

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