Mr. Mass

By Steve Merritt

If there is anyone out there that loves antlers more than me I would be surprised, especially antlers from big mule deer. There is just something about big mule deer that gets me really excited. I believe that big mule deer are some of the smartest animals on earth. I have seen big bucks do some amazing things to outsmart hunters, including me. I have killed some big bull elk with my bow, but there was a different kind of excitement when I spotted the two monster bucks standing together on a distant ridge.

Earlier this fall, my brother, Dad, two uncles and I spent a couple weeks bowhunting elk. We saw some big bucks (out of range) so we were pretty excited to start rifle hunting deer after we got our elk. We did end up killing three real nice bulls with our bows. I took a beautiful 6×6 that scored 331 Pope and Young. My Uncle Dan also killed a nice six-point and my brother, Jason, got a nice 5×5. However, there was still over two weeks of the deer season left, so we were all looking for a big buck.

Jason was the first to take a buck. His buck was a tall, beautiful, 4×6 with back forks about as deep as they come. My Uncle Dan also killed a really nice 7×7 that had good mass and was really a neat looking buck. I had a chance to shoot the 7×7 twice, but never really got a good enough look at his antlers to risk a shot. After I saw the buck dead, I was kicking myself for not shooting the buck.

My goal for this year was to shoot a typical that would net at least 180. I have shot some nice bucks over the years, but nothing that I would consider a real trophy. I live in western Wyoming and we have some of the biggest bucks in the country. Over the course of the next ten or twelve days, I passed up some real nice bucks that I normally would have shot other years. However, my goal this year was a buck that would net 180, so I didn’t shoot.

I had two days of the season left to hunt and I was starting to think that I had messed up by not shooting a few of the bucks I had passed up. My dad always says, “You will never kill anything big if you shoot the little ones.” I was going to shoot a big one or nothing.

On the second to last day of the season, my Dad, Cousin Mike and I went to one of our favorite areas. At daylight, I spotted a nice 4×4 buck, and Mike wanted to try and get a shot at him. We worked our way over to where the buck was and Mike said he would watch the buck while I went over the ridge to spot the next big draw to the west. I heard Mike shoot just seconds before I spotted the two monster bucks on the far ridge. I got my spotting scope out and, when the bucks came into focus, I had no doubt they were both shooters. I could tell one was a huge typical and the other one was really heavy with a bunch of extras. I probably only looked at the bucks for fifteen seconds or so through my spotting scope before I determined that they were heading for the top of the next ridge. I strapped my spotting scope to my pack frame and took off running because I had to cover about 1000 yards to be within shooting distance of the bucks. While I was running, I kept thinking, “I don’t care which one I shoot, they are both huge.” I got over to where I wanted to be in record time, and prayed that the bucks would still be there. But, I couldn’t see the part of the ridge where the bucks were. I had to cross the draw and work my way up the ridge. I just knew that the bucks would be long gone when I got close enough to see where they were. Once I got to the ridge, I was amazed to see that the bucks were still there. I could only see the big typical looking at me over the tall sagebrush, so I threw my rifle up to shoot. It was then that I realized that my scope was all fogged up because it was cold and it had been raining. I thought to myself, “You have got to be kidding me.” I slowly lowered my rifle and got a dry paper towel out and wiped my scope off. I raised my rifle again and the big non-typical was looking at me now over the brush at about 100 yards. All I could see was the top of his neck and head. I held as low as I dared and shot. The buck disappeared and the big typical just stood there for a few seconds before running like I have never seen a deer run before. I walked up to where the bucks were and prayed that I had killed the buck. Sure enough, there he was - dead. I really didn’t know how big he was until I pulled his head out of the sagebrush. There he was, the buck of my dreams! He was huge. I couldn’t believe the mass he had. The buck had eight points on his right side and eleven on the left with long, heavy eye guards. I scored the buck at 212 and the mass is awesome with a 30-inch outside spread. What a perfect ending to my Wyoming hunting season.

I would like to thank my dad for teaching my brother and me to hunt and for always having time to take us. And thanks to mom for always letting us go.

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