# Warning: looong story! Book Cliffs Reunion 2009



## xxxxxxBirdDogger (Mar 7, 2008)

Exactly 20 years ago was when I killed my first buck deer at the Book Cliffs. My dad had just purchased a new rifle and I was using my grandpa's old open-sighted .30-.30. Dad missed a great big buck on opening day because his new scope had a rangefinder with multiple reticles and Dad used the wrong reticle. He wound up shooting a marginal 4 pt. just to get some meat in the freezer. Then he concentrated on helping me get my first deer. 
We spotted some bucks heading up on top of a nasty plateau and the hunt was on. We scaled the mountain to the top and saw the bucks feeding down the ridge to the south of us. My dad and two uncles told me to stay where I was and made a push around behind the deer. A whole herd came running right past me and I knocked down a 4point as he ran by. I remember trembling with excitement as I cleaned my first buck. He wasn't the biggest buck in the world but he seemed larger than life to me. I couldn't drag the deer down the steep ridge myself and wound up watching my dad and his brothers work to get the buck down to the bottom. They worked their tails off and let me just stay out of the way and enjoy the moment. 
*Fast forward to this year, twenty years later-*
My dad has really struggled with his health in the last few years. He's fought cancer (successfully so far!). They had to remove his prostate and gall bladder. He also has had three back surgeries. The last time they went through his lungs and put multiple rods and screws along his spine from the front. Dad had already given his guns away when we drew the Book Cliffs muzzy tags for this year. I told him he had to borrow his gun back for the hunt. My bro.-in-law understood  . Dad said this would be his last hunt, our first trip back to where it all started as father and son. 
I knew before the hunt began that we'd have to find Dad a buck that he could shoot from his 4-wheeler or very close to it. We set up opening morning in a spot I knew some deer were using. We saw a spike, 2, and a 3, but nothing bigger. After lunch we set out for a ride down a ridge where I'd seen some bucks hanging out this summer. As we crawled along the trail there was a 4 pt. standing in the brush. Like a mischievous kid again, Dad whispered "I'm taking it!" I laughed all the way back to camp because Dad had just ended his hunt on a spindly 22 incher. He seemed tickled pink just to have shot a buck again and to have the chance to rest and nap while I hunted. 
So once again my dad had killed his buck early in the hopes that I could get on a nice one. The second day of the hunt almost gave me the chance of a lifetime. We took the wheelers down a deep drainage first thing in the morning. I was in the lead and spotted 5 bucks climbing a large open hill to our west. The first 4 bucks were all 20-25 inch 4 points. The fifth buck was a monster! His horns went 8-10 inches beyond his ears and they were just as thick and tall as could be. The problem? This buck was a good 250 yards or more uphill and moving towards the top. I put the bead right on his spine and fired. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The bullet put the dust up right under his belly and the big buck jumped a foot in the air. Then he continued right up the hill with the other bucks, giving me good looks at both of his sides. It was a clean miss  .
I hotfooted it up the mountainside just to see if I could catch the bucks up on top of the ridge. I did! The only problem was that the big boy caught me before I could get into range and he moved into another county with three of his buddies. I had managed to catch one of the smaller bucks feeding too far out in the open and he had to separate from the group. I wound up chasing him, a decent 24-25 incher, all day. I never could get a shot at him. 
The end to this story is anticlimactic: I was beat tired and my dad didn't look like he could take another day in the field. I told myself to get it over with and shoot a meat buck. I decided to take the next 4 pt. I saw, regardless of size. As you can see, my 20 year anniversary buck that I'm kind of disappointed with is almost a twin to the buck that I was so excited about all those years ago.
PS- I don't regret this trip one bit. I got to spend a week one-on-one with my dad. We talked about many things and rehashed old stories and memories. I can honestly say this was my second favorite deer hunt ever. The first hunt with Dad was the best ever.


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## cowmilker (Dec 17, 2008)

That was a good "long story". Thanks for sharing.


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## sawsman (Sep 13, 2007)

Congratulations BirdDogger, on a great hunt with your dad. Taking a buck is always nice but spending quality time with the ole' man is priceless!

I hope your dad has that cancer beat for good..

I also have some good memories with my dad out on the Bookcliffs. 8)


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## sharpshooter25 (Oct 2, 2007)

Great story!! Of course it is not about the kill that you remember about hunting, but the time spent with those closest to you. And I am sure your dad will always remember this hunt. Congrats again on a successful hunt.


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## katorade (Sep 23, 2007)

Nice Story and nice bucks.

Thanks


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## Yahtahay (Jul 3, 2008)

One word BirdDogger....Priceless! And congrats to you and your ole' man!


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## El Casador (Aug 27, 2009)

It's all about the memories. cool story i wish your dad the best and let there be more hunts to come.


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