Nevada, 2008, DIY, Public Land
It was a beautiful Saturday morning, with the sun shining, a cool breeze, and a nice view of the sweat on my brother’s back. We had hiked for two miles and gained 2,200 vertical feet up into some of the steepest country we have been in. We both realized quickly that we hadn’t adequately predicted the stress that the altitude would take on our bodies. We needed to make it up to the peak and a few miles down the ridge, which was about 11,000 feet, before it hit dusk (we had parked the truck at 8,800 feet.) With a couple of quick breaks, one nap, and only one wrong turn we still made it to our summit before dusk. We were disappointed that on the way up we didn’t see a single buck, but we decided to pitch our tent and call it a night.
We were awakened in the night by crashing outside the tent; apparently we had placed our tent in a saddle that happened to be an elk crossing. It woke us up early enough that we were able to get to a good glassing spot by first light. My brother Larry and I glassed for about three hours, and in that time we counted an amazing 56 mulies; 35 of them bucks! We were both excited to see all these bucks and not another soul hunting them. We now knew this was the golden opportunity to get a nice velvettipped mule deer.
As the morning progressed, the deer all began to bed down, so Larry and I decided this would be a good chance to go look for water since we were getting pretty low. We had spotted a spring not far from our camp on the map and decided to go and check it out. We were extremely disappointed when all we found was a dried up creek bed, and started to get a little nervous that we were going to have to go back down the mountain to get water.
Trying not to act upset or nervous, I decided that I was in a good location to try a stalk on some of the bucks we had bedded earlier that morning. I took off my shoes and began my stalk up the dry creek bed. While stalking, I inadvertently stumbled into the only water source at our elevation within miles.
After coming in from a bit of an angle to a group of bedded bachelors, the wind suddenly shifted when I was at 45 yards and made the entire hillside explode with spooked deer. My brother later told me that from his view across the basin, it looked like a scene out of Africa where there were animals exploding in every direction. I made a mental note of the winds shifting directions and then hustled back to Larry to let him know about the water I found during the stalk.
For a full account of Logun's adventure, go to page 28 in the September/October 2009 issue of Eastmans' Bowhunting Journal.