As most of you probably know if you are reading this, September is a very special time for all of us. As hunters, we seem to spend so much time prepping and anxiously waiting for this one month to roll around. No September is the same, but they all make for some great memories in the mountains that we have grown to love.

In years past, my September consisted of mostly elk hunting bugling bulls all over the state of Wyoming. This year was a little different. 

Going into the 2025 season, I had consumed a lot of content involving big mule deer, despite elk being my number one target species the past couple of years. I made the decision mid-summer that I was going to switch things up.  I was going to plan a couple of scouting trips to find some new county. I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could turn up a mature mule deer to go after during archery season. Recently, I have started to solo hunt a lot more. This season I was gearing up to do just that.

 I started dialing in my e-scouting and narrowing down a select few spots across Wyoming that I wanted to venture into. I wasn't able to start scouting until mid August. My girlfriend of three years, Quinn, accompanied me on the initial scouting trip of the season. After our first archery elk hunt last year, I was excited to share another experience in the mountains with her. The night before the trip, I packed up all our gear and ensured we had the essential items needed for the weekend. I shared my scouting plan with a couple close hunting buddies, set my sights on a specific ridge, and off we went. 

 I was now venturing into country I had never hunted before. On the drive up, I remember trying to keep my expectations for the weekend at bay. I have learned over the years to keep my emotions level and let good results build me up. So many times I had such high hopes regardless of the county I was exploring. Although this did keep me motivated, it also caused me to be slightly let down when the results didn't match the scenarios I had created in my mind. 

 It was comforting knowing my girlfriend was going to be tagging along on this adventure. After having our last decent meal for a couple days, we arrived at the trailhead right at last light. We slept in the truck that night and woke up early the morning of the 22nd to ensure we had plenty of time to hike to the top of the ridge before first light. As we crested the ridge, the first drainage started to become visible. I threw up my glass and started scanning, hoping to spot deer feeding on the open face. After watching the hillside for 20-30 minutes, we spotted a decent four point feeding into the drainage with a single doe. (Insert Photo here) This was a great start to the trip. We were really excited to work our way up the ridge and explore the country that I had been looking at on Google Earth for weeks now. As the morning progressed, we continued working our way up the ridge checking one drainage after another. We were turning up deer, just not the mature buck that we had been hoping to find in this area. 

 After looking over the beautiful scenery, I decided to creep over the edge and check the drainage on the opposite side of the ridge. At first glance I wasn't catching any sort of movement so I moved another 25 yards to get a different angle. In the very bottom of the drainage, I could see a deer with a massive frame pinning me from about 400 yards away. He must have caught my movement as I worked down the face off of the skyline. I slowly raised my binos up to my eyes and I knew from first glance that I had spotted my target buck. I slowly lowered down behind some taller sage. An intense stare-off took place. After what felt like forever, the buck and his two buddies he was running with, went back to feeding. I called my girlfriend over and we watched the deer feed for about an hour until they dipped off into some timber. From the first time I laid eyes on that deer, I knew my month of September was going to revolve around him. I told my girlfriend that the buck was hitting the dirt this year. It was then and there the grind began.

That first scouting trip, there weren’t any visible signs of people in the area where the buck was living. The drainage he stayed in was pretty tucked away which reduced the chance that other hunters had spotted him. I started getting up that way as much as I could.

I went back to work on Monday for four very long days. All week long I was reading and watching as much of the big mule deer content I possibly could. Trying to absorb as much knowledge as possible. I was determined to capitalize on the opportunity that I was presented with this season. Thursday night after I got off work, I drove straight to the mountains, hiked in, and tried to relocate the buck. That evening, I hiked up a different ridge to try and get a vantage point to where I assumed the buck was living. The night of the 24th, a storm rolled in and I was unable to turn up anything. I woke up to thick fog covering the entire basin the next morning. I hiked up in the dark, despite only being able to see about 20 yards with my headlamp. I was hopeful that the fog would lift in time before I had to get off the mountain. I was honored to be the best man at my best friend's wedding that weekend so I had to be off the mountain by around noon on the 29th. 

I arrived at the top of the mountain well before first light and hunkered down. Visibility was still extremely low and the drainages were filled with fog. As the hours passed, I started to wonder if the fog was going to lift before I had to start the trek back down. I told myself I could stay on the mountain until 11:00am before having to head down and join the wedding celebration. Around 10:45am, I could finally start to see the ridge parallel to me. The fog was still thick below me and by this time, it was extremely late in the morning. I started to doubt that I would be able to see any deer still on their feet feeding. I decided to stick out the fog and hope that the deer would still be active when it lifted. Another 20 minutes went by and finally the fog cleared out of the drainage I was hoping to glass. To my surprise, in some thick brush on the steep face of this drainage, I spotted movement. I threw my spotter up and started picking deer out left and right. There he was.  Dwarfing all of the other deer around, he was impossible to miss. I was exhilarated to relocate this buck for a second consecutive weekend. My excitement and confidence started to increase. I watched the herd of deer feed until they dipped off into the timber to bed down. I packed up my gear and headed off the mountain. With only a couple days until the archery opener, my chances to get a crack at this deer were improving. 

I spent the remainder of that weekend celebrating a lovely couple surrounded by amazing people. Congratulations to the Hofers!  Despite a night filled with whisky shots and wedding festivities, it was hard to keep that buck off of my mind. When Sunday, August 31st rolled around, I headed back into the mountains for the archery opener. I had built a new bow during the offseason and had been shooting consistently, in hopes of arrowing my first archery mule deer. 

Again, I had not seen any signs of other hunters near this buck. In the back of my mind I wanted to think I had this deer all to myself. Reality set in and I knew that there was a very high probability that if someone did know about this buck, they would be parked at the trailhead the night before opening day. I was anxious driving out there that night and all I could do was hope to see a vacant trailhead. A sigh of relief, that's exactly what I showed up to. The trailhead was empty just like it had been the past two weekends.

After a sleepless night and hours of pouring rain, it was time. A slippery hike in the dark had me on edge and I was unable to turn the buck up that morning. After seeing cows, elk, and a black bear all in the same drainage, it wasn't hard to understand why. I worked my way to a good vantage point and laid down to relax. I watched a black bear feed up into a patch of timber below and as the morning was winding down, I closed my eyes and leaned back for a midday nap.

As I began to doze off, I heard a sudden crashing below me and I jolted up. Two deer came bounding out from the timber patch, one being my target buck. They ran down across the drainage and started to slow down as they entered another small patch of timber. I had watched these deer bed in this specific patch before. I knew that there were only a couple beds on the top half of this particular area. After seeing how slowly they entered it, I was assuming that they were going to hold up and bed down in there. 

I checked the thermals and they were working uphill, perfect for a stalk on these bucks. I dropped my pack, slipped off my boots and in my socks, down I went. I moved extremely cautiously, planning out each step and making sure the thermals stayed in my favor. As I worked closer using the back side of the drainage as my cover, the anticipation started to grow. I eased over the ridge to where I assumed I would see the deer from. They were nowhere in sight. I slipped back, and sat about 50 yards from the timber patch and waited patiently until last light hoping the deer were in the lower half and would feed back towards me in the evening. The deer never showed. They possibly caught my wind or bedded elsewhere. 

I only had one day to hunt, so as the evening started to wind down I worked my way back to the ridge top and back to my truck. Working through some timber along the way. I spotted movement on my left. I froze and could see a respectable buck that I had glassed up on my first scouting trip. He’s standing there looking at me from 50 yards away. I had an intense staring contest with this buck for what felt like 10 minutes and he never moved. Knowing I had a target buck in mind this guy was getting a pass, especially on opening day. I slowly slipped out of sight and headed down the mountain. 

I had to work three more days before I was able to get back up in the mountains. When the fourth day rolled around, I was back at it knowing I had a six-day window to try and seal the deal on this buck. I decided I would pack in for a couple nights and try to relocate him. As I neared the drainage this buck was living in, I came across some fresh signs. After seeing the size of the tracks, I had a good feeling my target buck was still in the area. I still hadn't noticed any indication that other hunters were in this area. There weren’t any boot tracks and rarely another vehicle at the trailhead. This had me extremely excited. I knew how lucky I was to find a buck of this caliber and have no one else hunting it. This was a great opportunity that I would need to capitalize on.

During this six-day window, the goal was simple: relocate the buck, and only put a stalk on him if the scenario was absolutely perfect. As much as I wanted to arrow this buck with my bow, I did not think it was worth potentially bumping him out of the drainage that he had been living in. The first three days, and two very sleepless nights on the mountain, I was not able to relocate him. After seeing what I believed to be his sign one day before I got back up there, I was extremely confident that he was still in the area. 

There was a lot of thick timber all around this ridge. I started to think that he had dipped off into the heavier sections of timber. After day three, I altered my plans and started to work different glassing vantage points in hopes of laying eyes on him once more. 

Day four rolled around and I was painfully underwhelmed with what I was seeing. A very intense lightning storm rolled through and the thunder was echoing across the mountain range. After the storm had passed, I was seeing a lot of wildlife. I spotted seven different bears, and a herd of elk with a rutted up bull. I love observing nature in its purest form. It makes the long solo days on the mountain feel not so lonely. 

From here, I was trying to pick apart a very small opening in a thick timbered ridge. This was on the back side of where I had been seeing my target buck. With no success, I decided to work the other direction on day five to see if they may have moved down the ridge. Where these deer were living, it was extremely hard to get to a vantage point from any parallel ridge. That next day, I glassed what I could. I still was not able to turn anything up. I had laid eyes on two small bucks in six days.

On my way to try a new vantage point, I came across some extremely fresh elk signs. I heard some bulls bugling up in this area a couple days before and already had my calls with me. I decided to give these elk a shot late morning after my glassing session and see if I could get something to respond. After getting a bull fired up, I dipped off and decided to elk hunt in between glassing sessions for the following evening and morning. 

Looking back on this, I am very glad I made the decision to take a little break from hunting this deer. Those few hours chasing bugling bulls took my mind off of things and brought some much needed excitement to my hunting season. The day of September 9th came to a close and I had to head back to work for a couple days. 

By this point in my deer hunt, my emotions were all over the place. This is the first year that I have spent a lot of time hunting a specific deer. Hearing all the stories of big mature bucks disappearing after they strip their velvet were starting to creep in. The next few days, I was trying to consider all of the possible places this buck could be. Did he get bumped out? Did the sound of gunshots from bear hunters change his patterns? Or is he just spending a lot more time on his feet in the cover of darkness? There are a million things this buck could have been doing. Seeing what I believed to be his sign on the first day of the six-day stretch made me think that this buck had tightened up his pattern big time. He might’ve been spending most of his time in the thick timber. Six days alone in the mountains can be extremely challenging both mentally and physically. I was definitely feeling the effects of both.

The following weekend was the rifle opener. My grandma had passed away about a month before this, and the family had planned a celebration of life down in Arizona. I had a great weekend remembering a special person and connecting with family that I did not get to see often. I flew back Sunday, the 14th of September and headed straight to the mountains. 

With rifle season here, I knew anything could happen. I believed I had this deer all to myself up to this point. With the orange army rolling in on the 15th, I knew that could all change in an instant.

I arrived at the trailhead around 4 pm to no other vehicles. I was shocked to say the least. I decided I was going to try and glass from lower country and try to find him. Where he was living and spending most of his time, it was extremely hard to see him from anywhere else other than the top of the ridge directly above him. I decided to not go above, hoping he was still in there, I did not want to take a risk of bumping him out the day before the opener. 

I worked my way back to a place I had glassed from before, threw up my spotter and started picking apart what I could see of the drainage. It wasn’t long before I spotted some movement behind a thick bushy pine tree. I locked in and focused my spotter hoping I would be able to make out antlers. Sure enough I did. It was one of the smaller bucks that I had seen running with my target buck. I knew he had to be close, I scanned and scanned and finally, I could see a big body deer working his way into my view. I knew right away this was my buck. He was back in his bedroom, not more than 300 yards from the very first place I had ever spotted him. I was ecstatic. This deer was in an extremely favorable spot and in my mind, this buck was already down. I had a perfect play planned out for the morning. I had about an 80 to 90 yard window where the deer were visible. They were in a strip of timber and out of my shooting lane. I watched them feed for about 10 minutes from 5:10-5:20 pm. 

As I was sitting there I had an overwhelming feeling come over me. The glassing point I was sitting on was visible from a trail in the bottom. I started to have these thoughts of somebody coming up the trail towards me and seeing me glassing the face across. They may not know what I was glassing at, but I didn't want to bring extra attention to this ridge. So I packed up my spotter and started working down the trail to glass some different drainages. I now knew exactly where my target buck fed to. The only other place I would have been able to put eyes on this buck again was from the same ridge that he was on. With wind blowing up towards the deer, I didn't want to take any chances.  

While I was sitting there scanning, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Working up the trail was another hunter. As we began to talk a bit, I was hesitant to say too much. The entire conversation, I wondered if he had known about this deer as well. After chatting for a bit, it turns out he had been hunting the same elk that I got into the previous week. He was packing around a recurve bow and after we wrapped up the conversation, I was fairly confident that he was unaware of the buck living on the ridge opposite of where he was elk hunting. 

That night I talked to the guy I ran into on the trail and he let me know he had some buck spotted in a different area that he was going to target in the morning. Hearing this confirmed my thoughts from earlier. I will keep his name private but he is a super cool guy, and a badass archer at that, only packing around a recurve. We bullshitted for a bit and then parted ways. 

That night was as sleepless as they come. The anticipation was growing more and more. Every time I woke up, I checked my phone hoping it was time to strap the boots on and get up the mountain. That night of the rifle opener it rained for hours. When the morning rolled around I worked my way up the slippery mountain in the dark, moving as quietly as I possibly could. I arrived at the top waiting until I could see a little bit through my glass to creep up to where I wanted to be. I had to work my way through one drainage to get to where I thought I would be able to relocate the buck. I would have a shot if he was near the same spot I found the group of three feeding the night before. 

I took my time and executed my plan, but the bucks were nowhere to be found. I scanned all that morning hoping to pick those deer up. Around 10am, a gnarly hail storm rolled in, so I put on my rain gear and hunkered down. As the hail storm passed, I caught movement on the hillside near where I had last laid eyes on my target buck. My heart began to race, as I threw up my glass I quickly came to the realization that it was a black bear. This bear was one I had seen on multiple occasions. I put a stalk on him during the archery season and was able to close the gap to 60 yards before he fed away from me.

Other than that bear, I did not see anything else on opening day. In the general vicinity that I was in, it didn’t seem that many people were punching their tags. I heard a fair amount of gun shots, but the majority were very distant. As I was hiking out in the dark. I began to think back to the six-day stretch of not laying eyes on him once. I only had Monday and Tuesday off that week, and I began to feel all of the overwhelming sensations.

As I arrived back at the trailhead in the dark, I could see lights. As I approached my truck, it was the guy I met the previous night. We began to talk and he said he watched his target buck get shot this morning so he decided to come try the elk out again for the evening.

As the conversation went on he said “Hey man, are you hunting a specific buck up in here?” The look on his face is one I will never forget. I knew at that moment that he had one way or another laid eyes on my buck. I hesitantly replied, “Yeah I am”. He then went on to describe the buck that I had been chasing for the past month. He told me that on his way out he spotted a couple grouse on the trail so he pulled his grouse tipped arrow and right before he executed a shot, a giant buck stepped out 40 yards in front of him. The deer instantly pinned him, but with a grouse tip, he couldn’t do much. He said as he went to switch arrows the group of bucks bounced off 100 yards and stared at him. Mind you, this was the opening day of the rifle! If he would have been packing one around, that deer would have been dead that night and I would’ve been chasing a ghost.

We continued talking, I showed him some scouting footage, and we exchanged information. Hearing the buck was still alive was a huge relief. Only having one more day to hunt, and knowing someone else knew about him, I was feeling the pressure more than ever. The guy I met was a highly respectful hunter. He fortunately was not the type that was going to compete with me for this buck. It was public land and I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did after seeing that caliber of deer. Knowing he was a local, and he hunted that area a lot, the odds of him killing that deer were not zero. But I had peace of mind after talking with him. He explained to me that the buck had bumped up the opposite side of the drainage that was just a steep nasty timbered ridge. I was not sure how this deer was going to react. To my knowledge, I had never bumped him. 

The next morning I knew I had to make something happen, this being the last day I could hunt and no longer having this deer to myself I knew it was now or never. I decided to glass from the bottom on the opposite side of the drainage in hopes of catching the buck working back towards the drainage that he had been living in. 

The morning of the 16th, he was nowhere to be found. After glassing all morning, I knew I had to do something to make this happen. I decided to work my way up from the bottom of the drainage, one ridge over from where the bucks were living. I wanted to try and pick apart all of the bedding areas that I had seen them in before. As I was working my way up, I had a small buck feed towards me to about 10 yards. I stayed frozen and he had no clue where I was. He slowly walked off and I continued up. The longer the day went on I knew that my time was dwindling. I continued to get new angles and glass all the thick patches of timber in the area. As I was nearing the top of the drainage, I peeked my head over and glassed the last strip of timber that ran from the top all the way to the bottom of the drainage. This was the same strip that the black bear had bumped the bucks out of on opening day of archery. 

At first glance, something stood out to me, I saw a spot through some branches that looked like a greyish tan rock. Sun reflecting off this spot, I had looked at this timber countless times before, but something didn't look right. I grabbed the spotter out of my pack and zoomed all the way in. The first thing that caught my eye was the moving jaw of a deer. Laying in a bed chewing cud. As soon as I realized that this was in fact a deer and the sun was shining off of its back, I sat there and stared as hard as I possibly could. I was hoping to see some sort of movement above its head. Sure enough, after waiting for a couple minutes, I could see a massive rack move and knew instantly it was him. I had found him and I had to keep my composure. At this point, I was about 300 yards from this buck. Where he was bedded, I did not have a shot. I could see him but there were too many branches in the way and I did not want to take any chances.

I spotted this buck at 11:00am. After he had enough of the sun, he got up and moved higher in the timber patch to a bed I could not see. The timber patch was very thick, the fact that I was able to pick him out in one of the only openings in the whole patch was pure luck. A couple minutes went by and one of the small bucks that he was running with fed out for a quick bite in the shade before moving up and re-bedding in the timber. 

I knew that there was one buck that I still had not located. I decided that the original shooting point that I picked out was not ideal. I needed to get to a place where I could see both the left and the right side of the timber patch that they were in. 

I grabbed my gear, eased back and as slowly as possible got out of sight. I used the crest of the ridge to my advantage. Making sure the wind was in my favor, I moved to a new location. I liked this one less than the last, so I backed out again and crawled up to a third and final location. I carefully got my pack and spotter set up and the wait began. 

I had service where I was at. I let my family and a couple buddies know that I had spotted my target buck and if everything worked out I should get a crack at him. I remember telling myself that even though I had to work the next day, I was willing to lay in that prone position until last light if that's what it took. With my spotter set up, I got my phone ready to record if I had time and the situation worked out in my favor. To pass the time, I put on a netflix show at extremely low volume. I was constantly scanning both sides of the timber patch. The Netflix show was a great way to make the time go by a little bit faster and take my mind off of the opportunity that I was hoping to soon have. Calm the nerves if you will.  

After four hours of laying prone in the same position just patiently waiting, I spotted movement. From the very top section of the timber patch, the smallest of the three bucks started to feed down toward where I  assumed the other two bucks were bedded. He fed in the shade of the timber for a couple of minutes and then fed back out of sight. I tried to keep track of him the best I could through the timber. I kept catching glimpses of movement through the timber so I knew the buck was still on his feet. A couple minutes passed, and the smallest buck fed out in the only shade on the left side of the timber patch. I kept scanning and I caught some more movement in the timber and I knew I was about to get my opportunity. I started to record on my phone. I had preranged everything in the four-hour time span I was sitting there. The small buck fed out at exactly 250 yards on the dot. A couple of seconds later, I could see my buck making his way out on the same path as the small buck. I got my sights on him, and focused on my breathing. I was extremely steady, I knew this was the one opportunity I was going to get. I squeezed off the trigger and heard the notorious WOP sound that us hunters all love to hear. I executed an ethical shot with the buck slightly quartering to me. 

The bullet connected perfectly, entering square on the shoulder. He instantly fell and rolled down the steep drainage. I could see him laying at the base of a big pine within seconds. That moment is one I will never forget. All of the time, effort, and energy that I had put into this specific buck had finally paid off. I sat there and embraced it. As someone who grew up as an athlete, the feeling of setting and accomplishing a goal like this, was one that I had missed having. 

When I looked back at the video I recorded on my phone, it turned out better than I expected. Despite being solo, I was able to capture a moment that I will cherish for the rest of my life. A couple minutes went by and I picked up the phone and called some of my good buddies to share the news that I had capitalized on my target buck. They all shared in my excitement. I was on the phone with one of my best friends, Grant Cobb, when his dad, Mike, offered to make his way over and help me get the buck off of the mountain. It just so happened that he was in a nearby area hunting that day as well. He immediately started heading my way and I packed up my gear and started across the steep drainage to get to this beautiful animal I had spent so much time admiring. 

I knew this buck was big when I was watching him, but as I closed the distance, there was zero ground shrinkage. This buck had a massive body and his antlers went along with it. Laying my hand on this buck was nothing short of surreal. There were a lot of emotions running through me at that exact moment. I remember feeling extremely grateful and fortunate to be able to harvest such a magnificent animal. The meat would feed my family and friends, and the antlers would spark an amazing memory of the journey this hunt had taken me on. 

After taking some photos, I got to work on this deer. Within hours of the call, Mike had arrived and helped me finish field dressing the buck. We made quick work of the deer, loaded our packs and headed down the mountain. I am extremely grateful that I have good people in my life that are willing to help in situations like these. 

Arriving back to the truck with a loaded down pack is a feeling that will never get old, it is a sign of success. The hard work and struggles that go into mountain hunting only lasts so long. The memories of these amazing hunts last a lifetime. Every time I step into the mountains I know it could be my last, so I try to take advantage and get the most out of every opportunity I have to chase deer and elk in the amazing mountains of Wyoming. 

During this hunt, I learned a lot about the wilderness. I also learned a lot about myself. Being solo is something that cannot be replicated. It is an amazing experience, and something that I hope to do for many years to come. I think it's safe to say, if I wasn't hooked enough on big muleys before, I definitely am now. I am already looking forward to getting back to the mountains next year to chase these grey ghosts we call mule deer. I am forever grateful for the opportunity the mountains presented me this year.

Firearm trophies

Firearm: Winchester XPR 7MM REM MAG
Scope: Vortex Viper HS 4x16
Ammo: Federal Premium 7MM REM MAG 160 grain Trophy Bonded Tip

Hunting Gear

Binoculars (brand, specifics): Swarovski 10x42 SLC HD
Spotting scope: Vortex Viper HD 15-45x65
Clothing: Sitka Gear 
Boots: Kenetrek Mountain Extreme Boots 400
Pack(s): EXO MTN K4 5000 Pack System
Rangefinder: Vortex Ranger 1500
Knife: Havalon Baracuta/Piranta
GPS: Garmin InReach Mini 2/ onX Hunt app
Shooting sticks:NA 
Tripod: Aziak backcountry lite tripod
Game calls: NA
Tent: Kuiu Mtn Star 2 man 
Sleeping bag: Teton Sports 0 degree bag Pistol: Glock G20 gen 5 10mm
Holster: Gunfighters inc Bino Link Holster Bino Harness: Kuiu Pro G3

Back at the end of the 2024 season, after filling another OTC elk tag and not getting the chance to chase mule deer, I had 13 points burning a hole in my pocket. I knew I was still a few years out from drawing the tag I really wanted, but I had my eye on a buck that had a habit of showing up out of nowhere during the first part of December. I first saw him back in 2023, and sure enough, he popped up again in 2024, same spot, same time. I watched him all winter and finally decided I was going to burn my LE deer points to chase him.

When the draw results came back, and I saw I had pulled a late season muzzy tag, it was game on. The tough part was, I couldn’t really scout because I had no idea where this buck was coming from. With the general rifle hunt going on, I figured I just had to wait it out and trust my gut.

From opening day last Wednesday, I started covering ground. I had a few buddies helping me try to turn up a solid backup plan, but every deer we turned up just didn’t feel right. I kept getting that feeling that something better was out there. Sunday night rolled around, everyone packed up and headed home, and I was left alone in camp. What I didn’t realize then was that something was quietly working in my favor.

One of my buddies had a Henry Mountains tag, he killed the day after I left. Another had an Oak Creek tag, same thing, he killed the day after I left. As they drove out Sunday night, they told me, “You know we’ve got a trend going, you’re up next.” I didn’t think much of it at the time, but that stuck with me.

This whole hunt I’d been wishing for cold weather and snow, but it just wasn’t happening. Monday evening came, and I was glassing a hillside where that buck had been in years past. Laying there in the scrub oak with his head turned to the side, I caught sight of a deer that looked all too familiar. Deep forks, that was the giveaway. My heart jumped. I thought it might be the buck I’d named “Mine.”

When he finally turned and faced me, my excitement didn’t fade, but I could tell he wasn’t the same deer. He was missing the kicker and was a little more narrow than I remembered, but still, he was a great buck, and I couldn’t let him walk.

He was bedded in some thick oak, thinking he was safe. What he didn’t realize was that about 200 yards below him there was a little roll in the hill that gave me the perfect setup with the wind right in my favor. I stalked in, got to 170 yards, went prone, settled behind the red dot, and squeezed the trigger.

When the smoke cleared, I could still see him, head down, in the same spot. A perfectly executed shot and a punched tag.

After spending years on the other end of hunts, helping buddies fill tags and soaking in every second of it, I realized being the one holding the tag isn’t quite as fun, but it’s something special. Having my family be part of it and sharing it with some of my best friends made it all worth it.

The time had finally come. Earlier in the year I had received notice that I had drawn a Tag for the 2025 Manti General Season Rifle tag for Mule Deer. I had switched up Units this year to hunt an area where I grew up. I had always heard stories from my uncles of big bucks harvested years prior in the high country surrounded by tall pines and thick quacky patches. Ever since I was young I had dreamed of hunting in the high mountains chasing dark antlered Muleys. Well my time to chase the muleys of my dreams finally came as I woke up Saturday morning October 18th, 2025. Me and my dad started the first few days off by glassing over deep canyons. We found a good buck that we then chased for a few days until my dad was fortunate enough to harvest. We were excited and thought there was no way this trip could get any better. That thought would later change on Wednesday October 22nd. I woke up tired and a bit sore after spending a day packing out the buck my dad harvested the day before. After going over our options and making a game plan we decided to hunt a new canyon that we were yet to explore. This was an area my father had killed one of his biggest bucks years before I was able to hunt for myself. We traveled up the canyon to get to this spot before light, and as the light dawned there wasn’t much to be seen. A few does and a smaller buck slowly fed in the morning light across the canyon. A little disappointed, we regrouped and decided to check a new area only a few minutes away that neither of us had ever seen before. As we drove I was optimistic about this new area and what it might hold. We stopped a couple hundred yards from the glassing point and hiked down. As we looked across the canyon there was not much to see at first until suddenly my dad whispered to me, “There is a huge buck walking in the clearing straight across the canyon from us.” I quickly laid my back down and tried to get into position as my dad set up the spotting scope to get a better look at this buck we found. Things didn’t immediately go as planned. I could not get steady enough to take a shot at the buck due to excitement and a small portion of panic. I watched as the buck slowly fed into a thick set of pine trees and out of sight. I was mildly disappointed at first thinking I had just missed my chance on a big mature mule deer. I sat up to watch the quick video my dad had been able to capture of the buck on his spotting scope phone adapter. When we replayed the footage we realised just how big this buck actually was. We decided to wait patiently hoping this buck would once again step out of the tree line giving us one more opportunity. About 2 hours later I looked across the canyon after again watching the video of the buck for what seemed like the hundredth time only to see a buck walking in a small opening in the aspens just below the treeline we watched the big buck disappear into. This wasn’t the buck we were after but we watched him anyway. Slowly a second smaller buck stepped out of the pine trees and to our excitement the big buck we had been waiting for slowly stepped out of the pine trees just barely visible. I got back on my gun and patiently waited for him to fully step into the clearing. While waiting I ranged a small section in which I thought he would step out into. The range was 730 yards away. Even though this was a far shot the conditions couldn’t have been more perfect. There wasn’t a hint of breeze in the air. It was dead calm and I had practiced for months for a shot like this. Finally the big buck moved again. He walked slowly up the clearing still obstructed by thin aspens before finally stopping for a brief second in a tiny break of the tree line. My dad clicked a record on his phone and I slowly pulled the trigger until the gun fired. The bullet raced out of my barrel and I felt confident that I had made a good shot. As I was reloading in case I needed to shoot again I heard my dad excitedly say, “I think you got him!” We replayed the video to see my bullet had hit true, a perfect shot placement. The buck had run down into the aspens below and never came out the bottom. So we were positive I had made a great shot. We quickly drove the truck to the other side of the canyon and hiked down to the place we had marked where we last saw the buck. For a few minutes I panicked. There was no blood to be found and my heart sank into my chest thinking I had missed a buck of a lifetime. We decided to keep walking lower to see if we could find any other signs. Discouraged, I walked down a few more yards and looked up to see the buck piled up in the aspens only 50 yards in front of me. I quickly ran down the hill to check if it was him. As I approached I was dumbstuck at the size of the deer I had just shot. After checking to make sure he was dead, me and my dad just stared at the beauty of such an incredible animal we were fortunate enough to harvest. At the moment it almost didn’t seem real. After what felt like an eternity I finally laid hands on this buck for the first time. What started out as a life long dream of chasing big mule deer in the city where I was born and the mountains I grew up in finally came true. I was not only able to harvest a mature mule deer, I was able to harvest a buck of a lifetime. I turned around to see my dad brimming with excitement and asked, “No way this just happened!” His reply to me was, “Believe it, the proof is right in front of you. You successfully just harvested the biggest buck I have ever laid eyes on.” Then the celebrating and crazy amount of pictures began. When we got off the mountain we had him scored, to my excitement he scored 200 inches exactly as a typical. When you include his two cheaters off his left side he scored 205 inches. Truly a General Season, Public Land Giant and a lifelong dream come true!

Here is my limited entry big bull. Week before my hunt started my boy and I set out across the unit to find the biggest bull we could,we looked over 35+ bulls and this one being the biggest and we found this bull mid week prior to my hunt so we spent most of our time watching this bull and figuring out his pattern. My boy told me I couldn’t shoot any other bull than him cause he was “GIANT”! This bull provided me a perfect opportunity opening morning after @dastrup_121 turned him up in the glass we made a quick game plan and got @slade2506, Jon, @jackson_burrows54, and @braygan_marq22  on the glass and Justin met up with me, my boy and wife and we took off to go make a move. We got to where we’d figured we needed to be and proceeded our few hundred foot climb elevation. Once we got to where I figured we’d see the bull as I crested the ridge there he lay 300 yds broadside, I got myself set up for a perfect rest and made 3 beautiful shots and the rest is history. Beyond blessed to have such great people in my life to be apart of my hunt and make memories. And thanks to everyone else who helped out. Having my wife and my boy and best friend by my side to watch it all go down was awesome And everyone else from a distance to watch it all go down. So stoked to have killed my #1 target bull, Solid core memory that will never be forgotten.

I’m at a loss of words to describe this experience I had with my husband Braden. It has been his dream to kill a 200” deer ever since he started hunting as a little boy. We both had tags in our pocket this year and on the drive over he kept telling me that I was going to tag out first no questions asked. I kept saying “spotter shooter” because that’s what’s fair! He glassed up this giant on the second day of the  hunt. Without a shred of hesitation he said “you’re shooting that thing”. I tried to pretend like I didn’t want to so he would…but Braden saw right through that. The stalk was on! We had to loop around 2.5 miles and lose 1,300 ft of elevation. The buck showed himself at the last 20 minutes of shooting light. He popped over a ridge rutting a doe so hard that I couldn’t get a shot at him holding still. I ended up shooting him on the run at 220 yards. When I walked up on him and realized what we had just shot I was overwhelmed with emotion, mostly admiration and love for Braden. Here’s a man that has been hunting since he was old enough to walk, and he so happily passed his dream buck onto me. Like who does that?! Throughout this whole trip Braden was constantly going out of his way to take care of me. From sneaking water out of my pack to his so he could carry it, to packing out my rifle, to putting jackets on me while I was taking a nap in the dirt. Any need he saw I had he filled it without thinking twice about himself. But that’s just everyday life with him! Shooting a giant deer will always be one highlight of my life, but having him as my hunting partner for life is the greatest blessing. He’s the one who taught me to hunt and gave me such a passion for it, now he’s just got to keep up!