Mule deer in the open sagebrush country of Wyoming can be few and far between so finding a good buck takes time and effort.
September 09, 2024
By Chuck Adams
MY FIRST LOOK did not last long. Wide antlers rose above the sage 30 yards away, swiveled in a heartbeat and vanished beyond a ridge. But that brief glimpse was burned into my brain. Four fat and even tines per side, prominent eye guards rising from heavily beaded lower beams and a spread that took my breath away. Sure, I knew a deer rack always looks bigger going away, but this muley was large.
It was September of 2023, and I was bowhunting pronghorns in the rolling, ravine-sliced sagebrush country of eastern Wyoming. Trees or even tall bushes were few and far between, but that’s what antelope like. Their binocular eyeballs help to keep them safe from danger. Shallow and sudden gullies give a foot-hunting archer hope. In the right place, at the right time, a hunter just might weasel inside bow range by creeping low in one of those cuts.
The mule deer took me by surprise. I was stalking a decent pronghorn and blundered into the bedded buck. He had been dozing in a dip surrounded by sage — a place impossible to see from any angle. He caught my wind as I tiptoed past and scooted away without giving me a look at more than antlers and ear tips.
The pronghorn sneak did not pan out, but ask me if I cared. There were quite a few antelope in the area, but almost no muleys. I had a deer tag in my pocket, and decided to shift my focus a bit.
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I hiked the area for several days. During all that time, I saw only two doe muleys and one dinky 2x3 buck. I shot a nice antelope in the process — a hunt I described in a previous column. With the September Wyoming archery season winding down, I doubled my efforts to find that big mule deer.
My shooting gear was ideal for open country — a 70-pound Bear Alaskan compound bow with 480-grain Easton Full Metal Jacket arrows tipped with G5 Striker V2 broadheads. With a projectile velocity around 275 fps, a 7-pin Trophy Ridge bowsight and a super-accurate Swarovski rangefinder binocular, I knew I could hit a target well beyond the average distance encountered by an Eastern whitetail deer hunter.
The Ghost Reappears According to official statistics from the Pope and Young Club, more than 50 percent of record-book whitetails are taken at 20 yards or less. By comparison, more than 60 percent of record-book mule deer are shot beyond 30 yards. Unless you have stalked muleys in semi-open country, you might not realize how important shooting proficiency can be at 40, 50 or even 60 yards. Terrain often prevents getting closer than that.
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Days passed, and I began to wonder if I’d ever see the big buck again. The country was vast, and he might have taken a hike. But September mule deer usually stick to a fairly small home territory. All bets are off after the rut kicks in, but that would not happen until late October. I believed the odds were good that the muley was still nearby, tucked in low spots or coulees where he would be difficult to find. There were hundreds of such places within a mile of where I jumped him from his bed.
Suddenly, the buck appeared like magic. I was easing along a low ridge just before sundown when antlers rose above a row of sage. This was the same deer for sure!
The buck was 75 yards away, his body completely screened by brush. I ducked into a draw, circled to get the wind in my face and peeked over the edge. The deer should have been less than 40 yards away, but he was gone. I eased uphill and groaned. There he was, 125 yards below me, feeding at a rapid clip across wide-open yellow grass and sage. There was no way to get close, and light was failing fast. I watched the big boy amble into the distance, pause on a rise and fade over the top.
“At least that buck is still around,” I told myself as I hiked back to the pickup. “And I have a few more days before I need to leave.”
A fitful night followed with dreams of giant mule deer floating across seas of blue-green sage.
Time’s Up I had a Wyoming elk tag and a great place to bowhunt those beasts in another part of the state. With September rapidly drawing to a close, I decided to hunt the muley two more days. Then I would have to leave.
The next day was a dud. I glassed and hiked from dawn until dusk without seeing a deer. Lots of antelope, but not one muley. That night, I started breaking camp for my move to elk country. I would spend the final day sneaking along ravines where I had seen the big buck twice before.
The sun was dipping low when I eased out of a draw less than 100 yards from where I had first jumped the buck. Holy Toledo! He was feeding in the very same patch of sage.
I dove into a coulee below him, trotted up the soft dirt bottom and button hooked behind a brushy knob. One peek sent my pulse into overdrive. The buck was 35 yards below, broadside and feeding without a clue.
My 2023 Wyoming mule deer buck had a wide and gnarly rack. The buck’s teeth were worn to the gumline and his ears were in shreds from years of fighting with other males. My broadhead smashed him tight behind the shoulder. He staggered less than 20 yards and flipped upside down. I raced ahead, set up my compact tripod and snapped a few photos before dark.
The old buck’s antlers were nearly 30 inches wide, his beams massive and rough. The deer’s teeth were worn to the gumline. Both ears were sliced to shreds, mute testimony of rutting battles gone by. Despite only moderately deep forks, the rack still scored more than 170 inches. That’s a really nice mule deer for the wide-open sage country of eastern Wyoming.
I have taken bigger mule deer, but this was one of my most memorable hunts in a place I never would have expected to find a large, old buck. Dropping him in the last hour of the last day was icing on the cake!
Chuck Adams Big-Game Hunting Tip: Work Open-Country Contours When it comes to mule deer and other big game in open country, it is a mistake to rely too heavily on camouflage alone. Sure, you can benefit from well-chosen duds if you get pinned down while standing or kneeling in view of an animal. But no matter the camo pattern, a keen-eyed deer or antelope will spot you every time if you move in sight.
Effective open-country archers work the contours of the land. They lurk behind hills, slip up ravines and crawl through low spots. Using the terrain is the only surefire way to fool prying eyes.
If an area is too flat, without some relief to provide cover, you are best off finding another, more broken place to stalk or still-hunt. It is easy to waste valuable bowhunting time unless there are contours to help you hide.
