The first of my two tags on the Cage Ranch was filled on October 5^th.  It was a spectacular morning, filled with complex emotions.  The initial anxiety resulted in overwhelming elation.  My pronghorn hunt was a unique life experience forever etched in my memories. 

October 26^th was opening day of deer rifle season, and I had been preparing for months.  Bob and I had done some scouting during September and early October.  The north part of the ranch has a dry creek meandering from west to east.  There are cottonwoods and tall grass that provide dense cover for the animals that roam its sandy bottom.  Along with seeing multiple photographs of deer on our game cameras, we had witnessed a variety of does and bucks as we glassed the area from afar.  Bob had set up two tree stands on the west and east end of the riverbed, which provided 270 degrees access to all animals that patrolled the vicinity. 

A 4:30 am alarm was set on my iPhone, but I was already up at 4:15 am, and getting prepared for a successful day.  A coffee and a METRX protein bar would be my fuel for the hunt.  Bob’s nephew Paul and I left headquarters in the pitch black and slowly made our way to our pasture.  We parked about a mile from the west stand, and utilized my Garmin GPS to guide us to the specific tree.  As 5:15 am approached we climbed the ladder, and situated ourselves in the elevated position.  Paul would scan to our left, and I would focus to the rear and right.  It was 26 degrees and there was a cold northwesterly wind blowing at 15mph.  It didn’t take long for my hands to become numb as I had foolishly left my gloves in the truck.  At about 6 am, the sun offered enough light where we could start to glass for movement.  As I turned to the rear, I spotted five does making their way west.  As if they marked my position, the deer suddenly bolted to the south, and were out of view in seconds.  I questioned whether they picked up my scent, and if I was unintentionally giving away my location.   The visibility was improving at 6:30 am, so my glassing become more frequent.  I picked up movement in the trees to my right.  When I trained my binoculars on the image, I witnessed a big bodied deer making its way along the creek.  There was no question it was a buck; I just needed to determine if it was a shooter.  As he made his way across the creek, I could see that his antlers were outside his ears.  He was a very respectable 5×5, and I decided that I would take this animal.  For the next 10 minutes, the buck refused to provide me a shot.  Patience paid off when he turned to his right, exposing his vitals to me.  I chambered a round and clicked the safety to the off position.  My crosshairs were situated on is left shoulder, and I slowly pulled the trigger.  The buck dropped in his tracks at ninety eight yards.  My first deer was down, and I was ecstatic.  

At 10:30 am, we reconvened at headquarters.  The celebration included a big breakfast, and exchanging stories of the morning events.  We relaxed around the house and prepared for the afternoon hunt. 

Brent, Bob’s brother-in-law, would take his daughter back to the east stand, and Paul would man the west platform.  Bob and I had a different plan.  We decided to employ a spot and stalk strategy and quickly cover ground.  After walking Paul to the west stand, we made our way south to see if we could locate a buck in the plains. 

Bob does a great job describing the afternoon events.  

The interesting thing is that I’ve spent my entire life on this ranch guiding pronghorn hunts, and have never bothered to get a license for myself for any big game animals.  I decided that I would this year, and only try to fill the tag if Ross got his deer.  Ross ultimately shot his deer at first light on the opening morning.  His is a beautiful, very symmetrical 5×5.  A trophy for sure.

I glassed the initial buck from about a mile away as he departed a cattle stock tank.  While were putting the sneak on him, we inadvertently walked by a doe about 120 yards to our left.  She didn’t run so I didn’t think we were busted.  We never had a clear line of site on the buck due to tall grass and rolling hills.  In fact, we could only see his rack, and we agreed he was a shooter.  Unfortunately we bumped him and he bolted with his doe to the east.  We waited for him to crest over an adjacent ridge, and then we sprinted 500 yards with the hope he wouldn’t move out of range.  Unfortunately his speed put him about a mile away by the time we reached our spot.  We sat in that position and glassed the entire landscape until deciding to run back to the truck in order to continue the pursuit.  Our plan would be to drive around to the far side of the pasture and cut him off.  While contemplating our next move, I saw a coyote at about 100 yards.  I decided not to shoot him as I didn’t want that report to echo across the pasture.  This decision was fortuitous, and led to our ultimate success.  On the way back, I felt the vibration of my phone signal that I had a voice message.  I decided to return the call en route to the truck.  While walking back, I was quickly yanked to the ground by Ross.  Remember the doe that was gazing at us when we started our stalk?  Well, she didn’t leave and she had a suitor.  He saw us but seemed indifferent as he purposely quartered away from us.  I put the phone on speaker, and dropped it in the sand, while shouldering Ross’ rifle (yes, I forgot the ammo to my gun).  I whispered to the friend on the other end of the line to, “shut up and don’t say a word!”  Ross just about came unglued when he put his binoculars on the deer, and saw that this was a lifetime buck.  I quickly put the barrel in the BIPOD shooting sticks and shot him in the right shoulder.  The deer staggered to the right; he was obviously sick.  I placed the crosshairs on his quartering away shoulder and squeezed off another round.  This bullet entered his right hind quarter and must have found its way to the vitals.  He dropped like a sack of hammers.

I’ve traveled all over North America hunting; white tail and quail in South Texas, bear in the boundary waters of Minnesota, deer and elk in New Mexico and Arizona and even moose in The Yukon.  Not once have I turned in a landowner voucher for myself on my own property.  I’d much rather donate these vouchers to friends, soldiers, Wounded Warriors and youths.  I’m so happy that it worked out the way it did.  Having Ross spot that deer, and be there for the harvest after his success early in the day, is truly a memory that will never be forgotten.

Bob Cage is a good man.  He donates his land, money, expertise and time to people who might never get an opportunity to experience the outdoors.  His success provided me a tremendous amount of excitement and personal satisfaction.  I am proud to say that I was with Bob when he harvested his first big game animal on his own ranch.

Gear in the Field