Roots - Part Two - Base Camp Legends

I hope everyone had a safe and enjoyable 4th of July. This is part two of my first hunt to the Steens Mountains in Oregon. You can read part one, if you missed it, here.

The next morning, Todd and I wanted to start out right away, while Dad had to take care of Dad things and clean up around camp. Todd and I headed out going straight up the mountain and when we’d climbed another 1,000 feet in elevation, we’d seen over twenty deer - all does. A large herd of deer veered back down the ridge too far away to tell what they were and Todd wanted to head their way.

Having been in this area before, I wanted to go to a place we call Christy’s Rock after my aunt, who has killed several nice bucks from there. I was working my way around the ridge and had left Todd by only about twenty minutes when I heard a rifle bark. We hadn’t seen anyone else up there, so I assumed it was Todd, but I continued to hunt. Again, I was twelve years old and wandering around by myself a long ways from anywhere - and I started to get lonely. I’ve never told that part of the story before - so there you have it! I was lonely and talking to myself (another old habit I don’t think I’ve ever disclosed before) when I decided to circle back to where I left Todd. I was nearing where I’d left him when I saw him and Dad cleaning a deer. To hear Dad tell his portion of the story is quite comical. Dad must have been pretty close to Todd when he shot, but because of the way the canyons and wind are in that country, Dad never heard the shot. But, when he climbed up over the ridge, there was Todd fifty feet below him running around with his shirt off and twenty feet from his rifle. He had no clue Todd had just shot, so he was confused to say the least! He climbed down to where Todd was when Todd told him what had happened. Shortly after I’d left him, Todd ran into that herd of deer we’d spotted. They must have winded him or something, because they started to take off. Todd threw his rifle up to his shoulder and his scope just fell on a deer that imediately he realized, “That’s a buck!” Almost simultaneously, he pulled the trigger on the running deer and it started tumbling. It had been a long shot, and Todd was almost surprised when it dropped! The weather was hot - Todd had his first buck on the ground and understandably was shot full of adrenaline and didn’t know what to do next. He’d taken his shirt off and I’m not sure if he was heading down to his buck when Dad came up on him or how that worked exactly!

Todd with his mule deer - his first ever.

Dad and I finished the trip hunting together - as I found out I was not ready to go hunting by myself yet. I just couldn’t handle the quietness and always ended up chattering or singing to myself. These days I really enjoy trips by myself, and I have come to love the quietness of solo trips, but as a twelve year old, quietness was not conducive to being quiet as I just had to keep myself company - and that was not conducive to seeing game.

Todd (left) and I watch a doe feed on the mountain near camp.

One thing that happened that made me realize I had a long way to go before I was ready to prepare my own hunting trip was that I brought one short sleeved shirt. Now, usually a person doesn’t have to worry about their shot sleeve shirt here because it’s usually so cold. however, this entire trip turned out to be beautiful, warm weather - and my one short sleeve shirt was a bright white shirt with a giant red start on it. Brilliant. I’m sure the deer never saw me! I think it may have blinded them had there been any deer left in the country! Dad and I finished up the hunt without seeing another buck. At the end of the trip, we figured we’d seen more than one hundred does - and Todd’s small buck was the only buck we saw. Sad numbers for a unit that used to produce some fine quality animals - but the experience was far worth it. The Steens Mountains are one of those places that I just wish everyone could see at some point in their life. They are truly spectacular.

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