Coach Potter
Life of the Party
Man what a week…it was totally unplanned in every way. We were eliminated from the playoffs in the semi-final game on the 15th and my son’s college team got eliminated the next day. Lot’s of heart broken young men in less than 24 hours. However, that opened the door for me to hunt the rut with a gun for the first time in 23 years. There is always a silver lining 
. The entire next week was like traveling back in time to my youth and it was just what I needed!
I picked up bow hunting in my mid 20’s and being a lifelong WA resident (I live in ID now) that meant my hunting season was limited to the dedicated archery season. When I started coaching football that time got cut down to the 20 day late season. It took me a while to get that program dialed in but I eventually figured it out and became pretty proficient at killing mature mountain white tail with a bow.
That style of hunting requires a ton of prep work and even more patience. As a guy with pretty bad ADD, spending 8-10 hours strapped to a 24” platform in a tree, my patience was tested every time out. I really enjoyed the process of finding those big bucks with trail cameras and knowing there was a big buck around made the time in my “tree prison” tolerable but I was always day dreaming of what might be beyond the view from my stand.
As a kid, I lived for mid November. I LOVED sneaking around the woods discovering the signs of rutting bucks. I have forgotten many hunting experiences but I remember every buck I’ve rattled in, every encounter with a doe dragging a buck behind her and all the sounds that go along with that experience. I remember the first time I smelled a rutted up buck right before I saw him slip away. When you’re in a tree stand or a ground blind you miss most of that.
Driving back from Montana Saturday night went fast as I started to realize what was possible the next day. I had no plan but I had an area I wanted to hunt based on the one day I got during elk season. I had only seen a few deer in this area and I never had a chance to put any cameras out so whatever I might find would be a complete mystery and surprise. I’m so thankful that I didn’t know what was going on in this area as it brought something back to hunting that I didn’t even know I was missing.
I covered a ton of ground that first day without seeing much as it poured rain until it turned to driving snow an hour before dark. Normally I would spend the last hour of light somewhere I could see some ground but I decided to pick my way back to my rig as the light was fading fast with the snow. There was a field edge ahead of me that had a different figure than I remembered seeing in my way in so I checked it with my glass and it was a doe. I had great wind and cover so I stood there watching her when she jumped suddenly and then the buck appeared.
At 300 yards and poor visibility the fact that I could see his mass told me this was definitely a buck I wanted to shoot. I didn’t have more than a few minutes of legal light left and the snow was driving right into my scope making it impossible to see my crosshairs. I could see a way to cut the distance in half and he was totally focused on her. As long as she didn’t see me I was good. She dropped her head to feed and that gave me my chance. I cut the distance quickly but I was losing light just as fast. I got on my sticks and he moved into the perfect position. I was really struggling to see my crosshairs but took the shot anyway. Based on his reaction I knew I had missed. I went down and to where he was to confirm what I already knew and was relieved to verify a clean miss. I also had a serious discussion with myself about taking that shot as I made the long walk back to my rig.
By the time I had arrived back at home Sunday night I had convinced myself that I could hunt for a few hours the next morning and still work the second half of the day. Monday morning I spotted a really nice buck crossing through a 100 yards of open ground between timber blocks but no shot opportunity. By Monday afternoon I had determined I could hunt Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday afternoon I didn’t see any deer but I found 3 fresh scrapes on a ridge that were less than 100 yards apart. On my drive home I decided I could do a full day Wednesday. Wednesday was tough but I found a pile of elk,(not open but will be again in December) saw a few does, one small buck and more scrapes/rubs in an area I hadn’t yet seen. I knew Thursday was out because I had appointments throughout the day. While in my 10:00 am meeting my 1:00 cancelled so Thursday afternoon I find myself back out there.
At this point in the week I’m starting to develop a plan based on what I’m seeing and it felt like the rut was about to explode. I know exactly where I’m headed when I leave my rig. I have about 3 hours of daylight and 2 miles to cover to get to where I want to be for the final hour of daylight. There is a big bowl that was selectively logged about 15 years ago. The habitat is amazing in that bowl. The shooting windows aren’t big but I had found a spot where I felt like I could use my glass as well as move from to get to various shooting windows. Im hauling ass up the last pull before I get to ridge I need to be on. The woods have been soaked by daily heavy rain for weeks and you can cover ground in damn near silence. I stop for a second to catch my breath, look to my right and there is a doe 10 yards from me. She moves off quickly and as I move up to get a peak I run right into a buck at 15 yards just ahead of where the do was. I had no shot but he wasn’t the type of buck I wanted anyway. I ended up seeing him again a few minutes later. He was a decent 4 point and a little better than I thought but still not what I was after.
The encounter put me a little off schedule, the place I was headed was a little farther than I remembered and the fog was making it feel later than it really was. I got to my spot with about 45 minutes of shootable light. I found a place where I could call from but could remain standing. There was a herd of elk fairly close as I could hear the cows chirping and mewing as well as a rag horn who ripped a pathetically weak bugle. After a few minutes I rolled my estrus can a couple times and made a few grunts with my grunt tube. Despite being proven wrong many times, I have a bad habit of predetermining where I think the deer will come from and I’m focused in that direction. I look away from that to my left and I’m pinned by a shooter at 35 yards. He had to have been super close when I got there because it was less than a minute from my last grunt before he was on me. I tried to swing my gun and shooting sticks to him but he turned on my movement and quickly walked away. I moved 15 yards and tried him again. He came back but I had no shot through the ocean spray and he slipped off. It got too dark to see in that timber so I headed out. On the way out I had a doe fly across the trail in front of me and she had a buck right on her ass. Needless to say, in the drive home I decided I could do a morning hunt the next day and I know EXACTLY where I’ll be at first light.
Friday morning comes with a forecasted inch of rain. I got up at 3:30 and by 4:30 I had almost convinced myself to put off the hunt until the evening or possible Saturday. I was feeling a little guilty about a Sunday afternoon hunt that turned into a week of hunting everyday. At 4:45 I said F it I’m going, I can feel guilty tomorrow. I make the 45 minute drive and arrive with plenty of time to make the 2 miles without killing myself.
There is a spot about three quarters of the way in where I can see a corner of a barley field that goes right up to the timbers edge. I stopped there to take a peak but it’s still grey alight and with the heavy rain it’s tough to see. I pull out my glass and I can see a dark image at about 700 yards. It seems a little dark to be a deer but not big enough to be an elk. As I watch it longer and the light gets ever so brighter I can determine that it’s bedded and there’s another deer standing beside it. Immediately I’m thinking that’s a doe bedded down and a buck standing over her. I know I can get another 200-300 yards closer without being seen but I have to go a long way (about a half mile) out and around and I know those deer won’t be in the open very long after first light. I’m also thinking about my original plan. Should I be deviating from my plan to make a move on a deer that I’m only “assuming” is a buck. If it’s not a buck, or it’s a small buck, Im possibly wasting an hour or more of prime time to chase a ghost when I already know where a buck is that I’m excited about. About 30 seconds later I’m sprinting to a spot to get a peek at the unknown.
I get to the spot, throw up my glass to the deer that’s standing and it’s a doe! However, the bedded deer is a buck and it’s a TOAD! I range him and he’s at 500 yards. Most hunters would deploy their bipod and set up for a shot. I have spent most of my life shooting a bow and I don’t yet possess the skills nor the tools to make that shot. I’m much more comfortable at 200 and under. Hell, I had already missed a shot under 150 just five days earlier and the conditions weren’t much better. There is a thin patch of brush that runs down into the field and it’s probably 20’ higher in elevation and there’s a hard wind in my face. It’s a pretty dang good setup. It’s going to be a crawl to get there but it feels right. I start the crawl which turns into a butt slide and 20 minutes later I’m at the end of the cover, the buck is up and at 223 yards. I need him to move another 5-6 yards as I have just enough brush between the two of us that I can’t shoot. I’m doing everything I can to stay focused on my crosshairs and his body because his horns are spiking my adrenaline every time I allow myself a peek. He starts to move down to where I’m going to have a shot when I see the doe streak through my scope and he takes off with her. I come off the scope to see a stinking coyote loping out into the field…it’s over as they clear the timber 300 yards away.
I hump back up to where I had crawled from. I’m not pretty darn we and covered in mud but I still have an hour to hunt (a self induced constraint) and I’m humping it to my original spot completely undeterred. On the way I jump another group of does that had a small buck with them. I get to the top of the ridge and slowly drop down into the top of the bowl from the night before. Today I’m putting myself into a better spot with more shooting radius and I’m sitting down with gun on shooting sticks so I’m totally ready to shoot. I finish my calling sequence, set down the doe can and decided to take a quick peak behind me and there he is laser locked on me. This buck is a little farther away than the one the night before. He doesn’t look very big but I decide to swing my sticks and gun around anyway just in case. He was head on and the only shot I had was through his chest. I have never taken that shot before but in a split second the gun went off.
The emotions that go through your mind in the split second after you take a shot can be so strange and somewhat chaotic…at least for me. They can range from elation, doubt and even regret which always seems strange as it’s a completely conscious decision. The report of a gun is so violent and jarring in comparison to the release of an arrow. I haven’t killed a buck with a gun in so long I had forgotten some of that feeling. When I release an arrow I know instantly how things are going to turn out.
After the shot I came off the scope and was shocked to see the buck take off straight up hill. His tail was down like he’d been hit hard but as I watched him clear the ridge I was left standing there in doubt. I didn’t wait long to go to the impact sight. It was pouring buckets of rain and I knew I needed to get to the evidence quickly. I ranged the shot and it was 87 yards. As I was walking to the spot I was muttering to myself, “if you whiffed at 87 yards you should just hang it up”. All week that missed shot from earlier in the week was in my head as well as the 3-4 times I had fallen and bumped my scope. Every night I was wrestling with the decision to hunt the next day or go to the range and verify my zero. I was telling myself I’m a dumbass for not checking it and all the grief I would give my son or friends in the same scenario…hypocrite!
It’s amazing how much self dialogue you can have in an 87 yard walk. When I got to the spot I was stoked to see all the hair, blood, and lung matter on the ground and brush. I immediately called my wife to tell her I had killed a buck and I would be home as soon as I got him out. Again, I know better but this one was a done deal. I quickly went from high to low as hours went by without a recovery. I was finding tiny bits of washed out blood at the top of the ridge where I had last seen him but I had nothing to go on after that last blood and the rain only intensified. I was soaked to the bone after hours of busting through ocean spray and ceanothus. The bright side was it was only noon so I had time. What I didn’t have was and dry clothes, water, or positivity. Dejected, I walked the two miles back to my rig and phoned a friend to commiserate. He said hang tight I’ll be there in an hour to help.
I stripped off my clothes and turn my Jeep into a sauna. My buddy showed up with snacks, Coors Light and a positive attitude. My friend has zero experience in this type of thing but he makes up for it with a great attitude and a fresh perspective. I have always said it’s easier to find someone else’s lost animal than your own. I have done it many times for friends. I think the lack of emotional attachment to the situation as well as zero preconceptions is useful. As the shooter you have what you saw and your minds eye can lie to you. Anyway, we get back to the spot and start the search. My buddy won’t listen and goes the wrong way…10 minutes later he yells “Found him”. Of course he did!
I was so relieved and grateful to him! We took some pictures and I told him to get out of here and hunt the last hour of the day. I worked up the buck and he came back after dark to pick me up on the road. In the end I didn’t get either of the big bucks I had opportunities at and if you actually read this whole damn book, I’m sorry the pictures don’t justify the time it took to read all of this. I had one of the most enjoyable weeks of hunting I have had in a long time, even counting some of my best bucks ever. No plan, no prep, no trail cam pics, no expectations. Just my pack rifle and a handful of shells. It felt like 1995 all over again.
My son comes home from college in the morning and we’re headed back out. Maybe the next pictures will feature one of those old monarchs I saw during the week.
. The entire next week was like traveling back in time to my youth and it was just what I needed!I picked up bow hunting in my mid 20’s and being a lifelong WA resident (I live in ID now) that meant my hunting season was limited to the dedicated archery season. When I started coaching football that time got cut down to the 20 day late season. It took me a while to get that program dialed in but I eventually figured it out and became pretty proficient at killing mature mountain white tail with a bow.
That style of hunting requires a ton of prep work and even more patience. As a guy with pretty bad ADD, spending 8-10 hours strapped to a 24” platform in a tree, my patience was tested every time out. I really enjoyed the process of finding those big bucks with trail cameras and knowing there was a big buck around made the time in my “tree prison” tolerable but I was always day dreaming of what might be beyond the view from my stand.
As a kid, I lived for mid November. I LOVED sneaking around the woods discovering the signs of rutting bucks. I have forgotten many hunting experiences but I remember every buck I’ve rattled in, every encounter with a doe dragging a buck behind her and all the sounds that go along with that experience. I remember the first time I smelled a rutted up buck right before I saw him slip away. When you’re in a tree stand or a ground blind you miss most of that.
Driving back from Montana Saturday night went fast as I started to realize what was possible the next day. I had no plan but I had an area I wanted to hunt based on the one day I got during elk season. I had only seen a few deer in this area and I never had a chance to put any cameras out so whatever I might find would be a complete mystery and surprise. I’m so thankful that I didn’t know what was going on in this area as it brought something back to hunting that I didn’t even know I was missing.
I covered a ton of ground that first day without seeing much as it poured rain until it turned to driving snow an hour before dark. Normally I would spend the last hour of light somewhere I could see some ground but I decided to pick my way back to my rig as the light was fading fast with the snow. There was a field edge ahead of me that had a different figure than I remembered seeing in my way in so I checked it with my glass and it was a doe. I had great wind and cover so I stood there watching her when she jumped suddenly and then the buck appeared.
At 300 yards and poor visibility the fact that I could see his mass told me this was definitely a buck I wanted to shoot. I didn’t have more than a few minutes of legal light left and the snow was driving right into my scope making it impossible to see my crosshairs. I could see a way to cut the distance in half and he was totally focused on her. As long as she didn’t see me I was good. She dropped her head to feed and that gave me my chance. I cut the distance quickly but I was losing light just as fast. I got on my sticks and he moved into the perfect position. I was really struggling to see my crosshairs but took the shot anyway. Based on his reaction I knew I had missed. I went down and to where he was to confirm what I already knew and was relieved to verify a clean miss. I also had a serious discussion with myself about taking that shot as I made the long walk back to my rig.
By the time I had arrived back at home Sunday night I had convinced myself that I could hunt for a few hours the next morning and still work the second half of the day. Monday morning I spotted a really nice buck crossing through a 100 yards of open ground between timber blocks but no shot opportunity. By Monday afternoon I had determined I could hunt Tuesday afternoon. Tuesday afternoon I didn’t see any deer but I found 3 fresh scrapes on a ridge that were less than 100 yards apart. On my drive home I decided I could do a full day Wednesday. Wednesday was tough but I found a pile of elk,(not open but will be again in December) saw a few does, one small buck and more scrapes/rubs in an area I hadn’t yet seen. I knew Thursday was out because I had appointments throughout the day. While in my 10:00 am meeting my 1:00 cancelled so Thursday afternoon I find myself back out there.
At this point in the week I’m starting to develop a plan based on what I’m seeing and it felt like the rut was about to explode. I know exactly where I’m headed when I leave my rig. I have about 3 hours of daylight and 2 miles to cover to get to where I want to be for the final hour of daylight. There is a big bowl that was selectively logged about 15 years ago. The habitat is amazing in that bowl. The shooting windows aren’t big but I had found a spot where I felt like I could use my glass as well as move from to get to various shooting windows. Im hauling ass up the last pull before I get to ridge I need to be on. The woods have been soaked by daily heavy rain for weeks and you can cover ground in damn near silence. I stop for a second to catch my breath, look to my right and there is a doe 10 yards from me. She moves off quickly and as I move up to get a peak I run right into a buck at 15 yards just ahead of where the do was. I had no shot but he wasn’t the type of buck I wanted anyway. I ended up seeing him again a few minutes later. He was a decent 4 point and a little better than I thought but still not what I was after.
The encounter put me a little off schedule, the place I was headed was a little farther than I remembered and the fog was making it feel later than it really was. I got to my spot with about 45 minutes of shootable light. I found a place where I could call from but could remain standing. There was a herd of elk fairly close as I could hear the cows chirping and mewing as well as a rag horn who ripped a pathetically weak bugle. After a few minutes I rolled my estrus can a couple times and made a few grunts with my grunt tube. Despite being proven wrong many times, I have a bad habit of predetermining where I think the deer will come from and I’m focused in that direction. I look away from that to my left and I’m pinned by a shooter at 35 yards. He had to have been super close when I got there because it was less than a minute from my last grunt before he was on me. I tried to swing my gun and shooting sticks to him but he turned on my movement and quickly walked away. I moved 15 yards and tried him again. He came back but I had no shot through the ocean spray and he slipped off. It got too dark to see in that timber so I headed out. On the way out I had a doe fly across the trail in front of me and she had a buck right on her ass. Needless to say, in the drive home I decided I could do a morning hunt the next day and I know EXACTLY where I’ll be at first light.
Friday morning comes with a forecasted inch of rain. I got up at 3:30 and by 4:30 I had almost convinced myself to put off the hunt until the evening or possible Saturday. I was feeling a little guilty about a Sunday afternoon hunt that turned into a week of hunting everyday. At 4:45 I said F it I’m going, I can feel guilty tomorrow. I make the 45 minute drive and arrive with plenty of time to make the 2 miles without killing myself.
There is a spot about three quarters of the way in where I can see a corner of a barley field that goes right up to the timbers edge. I stopped there to take a peak but it’s still grey alight and with the heavy rain it’s tough to see. I pull out my glass and I can see a dark image at about 700 yards. It seems a little dark to be a deer but not big enough to be an elk. As I watch it longer and the light gets ever so brighter I can determine that it’s bedded and there’s another deer standing beside it. Immediately I’m thinking that’s a doe bedded down and a buck standing over her. I know I can get another 200-300 yards closer without being seen but I have to go a long way (about a half mile) out and around and I know those deer won’t be in the open very long after first light. I’m also thinking about my original plan. Should I be deviating from my plan to make a move on a deer that I’m only “assuming” is a buck. If it’s not a buck, or it’s a small buck, Im possibly wasting an hour or more of prime time to chase a ghost when I already know where a buck is that I’m excited about. About 30 seconds later I’m sprinting to a spot to get a peek at the unknown.
I get to the spot, throw up my glass to the deer that’s standing and it’s a doe! However, the bedded deer is a buck and it’s a TOAD! I range him and he’s at 500 yards. Most hunters would deploy their bipod and set up for a shot. I have spent most of my life shooting a bow and I don’t yet possess the skills nor the tools to make that shot. I’m much more comfortable at 200 and under. Hell, I had already missed a shot under 150 just five days earlier and the conditions weren’t much better. There is a thin patch of brush that runs down into the field and it’s probably 20’ higher in elevation and there’s a hard wind in my face. It’s a pretty dang good setup. It’s going to be a crawl to get there but it feels right. I start the crawl which turns into a butt slide and 20 minutes later I’m at the end of the cover, the buck is up and at 223 yards. I need him to move another 5-6 yards as I have just enough brush between the two of us that I can’t shoot. I’m doing everything I can to stay focused on my crosshairs and his body because his horns are spiking my adrenaline every time I allow myself a peek. He starts to move down to where I’m going to have a shot when I see the doe streak through my scope and he takes off with her. I come off the scope to see a stinking coyote loping out into the field…it’s over as they clear the timber 300 yards away.
I hump back up to where I had crawled from. I’m not pretty darn we and covered in mud but I still have an hour to hunt (a self induced constraint) and I’m humping it to my original spot completely undeterred. On the way I jump another group of does that had a small buck with them. I get to the top of the ridge and slowly drop down into the top of the bowl from the night before. Today I’m putting myself into a better spot with more shooting radius and I’m sitting down with gun on shooting sticks so I’m totally ready to shoot. I finish my calling sequence, set down the doe can and decided to take a quick peak behind me and there he is laser locked on me. This buck is a little farther away than the one the night before. He doesn’t look very big but I decide to swing my sticks and gun around anyway just in case. He was head on and the only shot I had was through his chest. I have never taken that shot before but in a split second the gun went off.
The emotions that go through your mind in the split second after you take a shot can be so strange and somewhat chaotic…at least for me. They can range from elation, doubt and even regret which always seems strange as it’s a completely conscious decision. The report of a gun is so violent and jarring in comparison to the release of an arrow. I haven’t killed a buck with a gun in so long I had forgotten some of that feeling. When I release an arrow I know instantly how things are going to turn out.
After the shot I came off the scope and was shocked to see the buck take off straight up hill. His tail was down like he’d been hit hard but as I watched him clear the ridge I was left standing there in doubt. I didn’t wait long to go to the impact sight. It was pouring buckets of rain and I knew I needed to get to the evidence quickly. I ranged the shot and it was 87 yards. As I was walking to the spot I was muttering to myself, “if you whiffed at 87 yards you should just hang it up”. All week that missed shot from earlier in the week was in my head as well as the 3-4 times I had fallen and bumped my scope. Every night I was wrestling with the decision to hunt the next day or go to the range and verify my zero. I was telling myself I’m a dumbass for not checking it and all the grief I would give my son or friends in the same scenario…hypocrite!
It’s amazing how much self dialogue you can have in an 87 yard walk. When I got to the spot I was stoked to see all the hair, blood, and lung matter on the ground and brush. I immediately called my wife to tell her I had killed a buck and I would be home as soon as I got him out. Again, I know better but this one was a done deal. I quickly went from high to low as hours went by without a recovery. I was finding tiny bits of washed out blood at the top of the ridge where I had last seen him but I had nothing to go on after that last blood and the rain only intensified. I was soaked to the bone after hours of busting through ocean spray and ceanothus. The bright side was it was only noon so I had time. What I didn’t have was and dry clothes, water, or positivity. Dejected, I walked the two miles back to my rig and phoned a friend to commiserate. He said hang tight I’ll be there in an hour to help.
I stripped off my clothes and turn my Jeep into a sauna. My buddy showed up with snacks, Coors Light and a positive attitude. My friend has zero experience in this type of thing but he makes up for it with a great attitude and a fresh perspective. I have always said it’s easier to find someone else’s lost animal than your own. I have done it many times for friends. I think the lack of emotional attachment to the situation as well as zero preconceptions is useful. As the shooter you have what you saw and your minds eye can lie to you. Anyway, we get back to the spot and start the search. My buddy won’t listen and goes the wrong way…10 minutes later he yells “Found him”. Of course he did!
I was so relieved and grateful to him! We took some pictures and I told him to get out of here and hunt the last hour of the day. I worked up the buck and he came back after dark to pick me up on the road. In the end I didn’t get either of the big bucks I had opportunities at and if you actually read this whole damn book, I’m sorry the pictures don’t justify the time it took to read all of this. I had one of the most enjoyable weeks of hunting I have had in a long time, even counting some of my best bucks ever. No plan, no prep, no trail cam pics, no expectations. Just my pack rifle and a handful of shells. It felt like 1995 all over again.
My son comes home from college in the morning and we’re headed back out. Maybe the next pictures will feature one of those old monarchs I saw during the week.
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