Well, I am back from the AZ Strip. The box score from Unit 13A reads as follows:
Deer -1 Big Fin – 0
The funnest, most frustrating, most exciting, most depressing, most enjoyable deer hunt of my life. Would do it again in a heartbeat, but knowing I burned all my points; this was my one and only chance.
They should call it the Strip Tease. God Damn place has more Polygamists, Elvis impersonators, and retired midget wrestlers than it has buck mule deer.
AZ Game and Fish hires guys to bounce around the Strip on pogo sticks that have deer hooves on the bottom, making tracks all over hell. They drop replicas of world record shed antlers from airplanes to tease you into thinking you might spot a deer sporting such large antlers.
Maybe, I am just a piss poor hunter. Yup, piss poor hunter.
View attachment 5627
The piss poor hunter wondering if there is a deer on this ridge.
Good thing Greenhorn told me how frustrating this hunt could be; otherwise I may have been inclined to quit after a couple days. |oo
I hired an outfitter whose family homesteaded the area. I was joined by an Uncle (no tag for him) who helped all ten days of the hunt.
View attachment 5631
Uncle - Larry
In ten days of glassing, the three of us (me, Uncle, guide)glassed up two bucks. Yes, that is two, (2). If that doesn’t frustrate you, then you have a hell of a lot more patience than I do.
View attachment 5626
Supposedly big bucks live in this canyon. If so, who cares.
The other twelve bucks I saw during this hunt were spotted while watching waterholes, driving to glassing locations, and pushing patches of brush in the canyons and cedar ridges.
The guides worked their tails off. I passed on two bucks that the guides thought were in the low 180 range. It was recommended that I pass, which I did, having obligated to myself to something huge, or nothing at all.
We put over 1,000 miles on my truck while driving from camp to the likely locations spread across the unit. We hiked constantly from mid-morning to mid-afternoon of all ten days, trying to break bucks from their beds.
I am convinced the rut was in full swing, though others argued such was not the case. The weather was hot and dry. The moon was full. I think this allowed most of the rutting to happen at night. In the heat, I think the bucks bedded for the day, trying to stay cool.
Regardless of the weather, moon phase, or whatever else, a guy has to hunt the season as it is set. Many hunters were driving around bitching about the conditions. I lucked out and had guides that persevered and kept going like maniacs, knowing the big one was just around the corner.
I didn’t fire a shot on this hunt.
The other hunter in camp had two chances at monsters, both on the same day. The guides and outfitter reported that the first miss was a huge 35" NT. The biggest deer they have ever seen during a hunting season. A huge 4x4 frame with trash everywhere. They guessed the score to be 230-240. The hunter had four shots. The first at 100 yards, the next at 150 yards, and the final two as the buck ran down the hill. Didn’t touch a hair. If that happened to me, I would need to be on the suicide watch. He didn’t seem too worked up by it.
Later that day, the same hunter had three shots at a large typical 30"+ 4x4 that the outfitter and guides thought would net in the low 190s. Again, no blood was drawn.
I wish I had been with that guide group on that day, but that is how it goes.
Good hunting luck, shithouse luck, or whatever term you use for fortunate occassions, it usually trumps hard work on most hunts. And, all the hard work in the world sometimes can’t overcome a streak of bad luck.
View attachment 5628
Saying a silent prayer for some good luck.
Fun as hell, but nothing but a lot of pictures and video to show for my efforts.
View attachment 5629
Final day with Uncle Larry celebrating a great ten days hunting together and the one year anniversary of his last chemo treatment. We are two lucky mo' fo's.
Thanks to all who helped.
Deer -1 Big Fin – 0
The funnest, most frustrating, most exciting, most depressing, most enjoyable deer hunt of my life. Would do it again in a heartbeat, but knowing I burned all my points; this was my one and only chance.
They should call it the Strip Tease. God Damn place has more Polygamists, Elvis impersonators, and retired midget wrestlers than it has buck mule deer.
AZ Game and Fish hires guys to bounce around the Strip on pogo sticks that have deer hooves on the bottom, making tracks all over hell. They drop replicas of world record shed antlers from airplanes to tease you into thinking you might spot a deer sporting such large antlers.
Maybe, I am just a piss poor hunter. Yup, piss poor hunter.
View attachment 5627
The piss poor hunter wondering if there is a deer on this ridge.
Good thing Greenhorn told me how frustrating this hunt could be; otherwise I may have been inclined to quit after a couple days. |oo
I hired an outfitter whose family homesteaded the area. I was joined by an Uncle (no tag for him) who helped all ten days of the hunt.
View attachment 5631
Uncle - Larry
In ten days of glassing, the three of us (me, Uncle, guide)glassed up two bucks. Yes, that is two, (2). If that doesn’t frustrate you, then you have a hell of a lot more patience than I do.
View attachment 5626
Supposedly big bucks live in this canyon. If so, who cares.
The other twelve bucks I saw during this hunt were spotted while watching waterholes, driving to glassing locations, and pushing patches of brush in the canyons and cedar ridges.
The guides worked their tails off. I passed on two bucks that the guides thought were in the low 180 range. It was recommended that I pass, which I did, having obligated to myself to something huge, or nothing at all.
We put over 1,000 miles on my truck while driving from camp to the likely locations spread across the unit. We hiked constantly from mid-morning to mid-afternoon of all ten days, trying to break bucks from their beds.
I am convinced the rut was in full swing, though others argued such was not the case. The weather was hot and dry. The moon was full. I think this allowed most of the rutting to happen at night. In the heat, I think the bucks bedded for the day, trying to stay cool.
Regardless of the weather, moon phase, or whatever else, a guy has to hunt the season as it is set. Many hunters were driving around bitching about the conditions. I lucked out and had guides that persevered and kept going like maniacs, knowing the big one was just around the corner.
I didn’t fire a shot on this hunt.
The other hunter in camp had two chances at monsters, both on the same day. The guides and outfitter reported that the first miss was a huge 35" NT. The biggest deer they have ever seen during a hunting season. A huge 4x4 frame with trash everywhere. They guessed the score to be 230-240. The hunter had four shots. The first at 100 yards, the next at 150 yards, and the final two as the buck ran down the hill. Didn’t touch a hair. If that happened to me, I would need to be on the suicide watch. He didn’t seem too worked up by it.
Later that day, the same hunter had three shots at a large typical 30"+ 4x4 that the outfitter and guides thought would net in the low 190s. Again, no blood was drawn.
I wish I had been with that guide group on that day, but that is how it goes.
Good hunting luck, shithouse luck, or whatever term you use for fortunate occassions, it usually trumps hard work on most hunts. And, all the hard work in the world sometimes can’t overcome a streak of bad luck.
View attachment 5628
Saying a silent prayer for some good luck.
Fun as hell, but nothing but a lot of pictures and video to show for my efforts.
View attachment 5629
Final day with Uncle Larry celebrating a great ten days hunting together and the one year anniversary of his last chemo treatment. We are two lucky mo' fo's.
Thanks to all who helped.
