I stayed at my first spot for a couple more days. I was hoping that hunting pressure would move the deer around…
I was wrong. I ended up running into more hunters than I did deer in this particular area, so I decided to move on to spot #2.
Both spot#2 and spot#3 were both iffy – hunter densities would be high, but I knew of areas that would hopefully not contain any (or few) hunters. The odds of spot#2 being hunter-less were better than spot#3 being hunter-less, and so I started my long drive to the area.
I decided to drive in the back way to my #2 spot, which would allow me to see what hunter densities would look like along my #3 spot. Well, I’m glad I did, because the amount of hunters that were in the area made me abandon the option of it being a hunt-able area. There were many people in the area – any place that could have been a camp, was a camp. I’m talking next to cattle tanks, in sandy washes, and much more. The main road was a dirt highway, and I wasn’t about to fight people for deer opportunities.
I made my way to spot#2. The area I wanted to camp was led by a nasty road for my vehicle, but I managed. I parked my vehicle, put all my gear on, and started my hike to the hunting area.
The distance to this area wasn’t huge, but walking conditions were awful. Uphill, rocky, and full of vegetation that wants to cut you, it took a while to get to the area that I wanted to glass.
At this point, something happened that I wasn’t expecting, and that was the heat. I was so incredibly hot that it was like I was hiking in the middle of June. I didn’t have any sort of cold-weather gear on and I was still being destroyed by the sun’s rays. I was hoping that once I got to my glassing point that I could find some shade amongst the rocks…
Once again, I was wrong. There was no shade. I tried to ignore the heat as I started glassing, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t prepared for this sort of heat, as I had limited water and limited sun screen in my pack, but more in my vehicle. It was at this point that I decided to head back to the vehicle. A later look at the forecast put the temperature in the 90’s.
As I was walking back, I ran into a large herd of javelina – I counted at least 10, including at least 2 little reds. I stopped hiking as they split in different directions, allowing them to get some distance away from me before I started moving again.
I took about 10 more steps before I saw the 2 reds move just to the left of me, a little under 20 yards away. I immediately stopped forward progression and started backing away slowly, all while I drew my sidearm. This was a close distance to be to some javelina young, and there was a good chance that mom was watching with anger in her eyes. I’ll clarify that there’d be no way that I’d shoot a javelina unless I felt as if my life was in danger…
It was at this point that I heard pounding hooves just behind the javelina young. This was surely mom, and she was ready to fight.
She started running at me, not at full speed, but fast-paced nonetheless. She got roughly 13 yards away before I stomped my foot in her direction, all while spreading my arms and letting out a loud yell. She immediately stopped and ran away in the opposite direction. This would be the first time that I’ve ever been charged by a javelina.
I made my way back to my vehicle, completely covered in sweat and water almost gone. It was at this point that I wasn’t sure what to do or where to go, so I decided to head back into town.
I was a few miles from my last hunting spot when something caught my eye as I was driving. I turned my head to the left and, sure enough, there was a mouse sitting in my passenger seat.
It jumped up onto my dash and seemingly gave me a sniff. I didn’t know what to do, so I quickly pulled over. The mouse then ran and jumped into my open backpack, which is how it must have gotten into my car. I quickly zipped the backpack shut, hoping to keep the mouse contained before I could release it. I wouldn’t release the mouse here, as there was too much traffic for me to comfortable park, but I’d find another place elsewhere.
I found a grassy area further down the road, opened my backpack, and the mouse ran out into the dessert.
As I drove back into town, I thought about possible options. Thus far, hunting spots 1-3 were not working out. I then remembered – I knew someone that basically lived in this unit, more so than myself. My idea was to contact him and hopefully get some intel…
I was hoping for just some tips on where to hunt, but this gentleman told me where to hunt. If you’re reading this (you know who you are), I thank you again. I had hope for the area, and knew it was time to put in some work.
The unfortunate part about this area was that the roads were absolutely awful, and the area I wanted to hunt was no closer than 2.5 miles away from where I could park. This didn’t dissuade me, though, and I started my long journey onward.
The goal of the first night would be to check out a water catchment that’s over 3 miles away, of which the last 0.5 mile is poor hiking conditions. I decided to take the long way to the catchment, putting the distance over 3.5 miles, but hoping that I could bump some deer as I hiked there.
The going was slow, to say the least. Rolling hills and deep ravines effected my travel speed, but I carried onward. I was continuously looking for deer, and then something caught my eye about 35 yards away.
It was an antler.
Not an antler on a deer. This antler was laying deep under a tree, and I’m still not too sure how I saw it. I made my way through the acacia and creosote to find a giant 4ish point shed. I saw “4ish” because it had one broken point, of which probably forked to make a 5 point shed. It has an absolute giant G3 point, and it’s too bad that the G2 was broken off.
I hiked…
And hiked…
And hiked.
I hiked for hours, and just didn’t give myself enough time to get to the catchment. I didn’t get to the catchment that evening, but learned more about the terrain, and found a nice shed.
I had a plan for the next morning. There was a good ridge that ran on the south side of a big mountain, and it would make for a great glassing point. Roughly 1.25 miles from my camp, I began walking.
But my morning plan was cut short. As I got closer to the ride, I heard fake predator calls. I stopped and glassed up a solo person calling coyotes on top of this ridge, followed by a series of shots from a high-powered rifle. This spot was shot (pun intended) for the morning. My next idea was to hike a fence line, hoping to find some places that deer were crossing. Once again, I put in many miles to not find anything.
I gave myself plenty of time for the evening, and my plan was to hike about 4 miles to the other side of a somewhat near mountain. Once again, I put in many miles that evening, and glassed until dark, with nothing to be seen. I hiked back in the dark, listening to music as I made my way to camp.
Luckily, my friend came to help me out that evening. He’s got a Jeep that would surely help us cover more ground.
We awoke early the next day and drove to the water catchment. That’s right, the water catchment that’s many miles away, we drove to. We got up to a high vantage point and started glassing.
After a while of glassing, we glassed up a solo Coues doe. It was the first deer I’d seen all season, and my hope was restored. We just needed to find its boyfriend…
We hiked 10+ miles that morning with no more deer. The day was getting hot again as noon approached us. We decided to head back to the Jeep.
We went to the water catchment to see what kinds of deer sign there were, but there wasn’t. There wasn’t a single deer track or a single deer pellet. The deer weren’t coming to this water, and I still don’t understand why.
We were hungry after our long morning of hunting, and we were going to make a quick trip into town. Driving the absolutely horrible dirt roads, we saw some tails flash. There were deer next to the road.
I jumped out, gun in hand, and checked the 2 deer that I saw – both does.
But then, several more deer jumped away, with 1 deer running away on its own. I decided to chase the group of 5.
I chased them over a hill and, sure enough, they all stood still at about 75 yards. I checked each deer for antlers, but they all were does.
Disappointed, I went back to the Jeep.
We carried on to town, still driving the horrendous dirt roads, filled with giant potholes, huge ravines, and deep sandy areas. Literally less than 0.5 miles back to the main dirt road, we see more tail flashing. There were more deer.
I jumped out again, hoping for a buck. I, once again, chased the deer over a ridge, but I lost them. Eyes open and observant, I scanned the landscape. Suddenly, something caught my eye. It was the ears of a deer. Another doe, but it surely wasn’t alone, right?
I heard a noise to my right and, sure enough, it was the group of deer that I originally saw. The 4 deer stood still as I checked each one for antlers – each one was a doe. I then turned my attention back to the lone doe and took a few steps towards it, hoping to spook it to see if there were unseen deer with it. It started to run, and behind it was an older fawn.
At this point, we decided not to head into town. The action was too hot, and we needed to find somewhere to park and hunt.
And so we parked and hunted…
And hunted…
And hunted.
But we didn’t see any more deer that day. We saw a total of 13 deer that day, but not a single buck. Not even a single spike.
The next morning would be the last of the trip. We woke up decently early and drove to a new spot to hunt, but didn’t see anything. On our way back, we came across tracks. Large tracks. Mountain lion tracks. And they went straight through our camp – a sign to remind us that we are not the only predators in this land.
And so I went home empty handed, freezers empty and bowls filled with tag soup. I can’t say that I didn’t put in the work – I estimate that I put in over 50 miles on the boots, but it wasn’t enough to fill a tag. I can’t say I’ll hunt this unit ever again. The hunter density is too high, and the deer densities are too low to sustain many hunters.
Overall, I learned a lot on this trip, and also got one heck of a workout. Until next deer season…