As cool air pushes down the eastern side of the Rocky Mountains, It picks up speed making the western Dakota’s one of the windiest places in the nation. This wind mixed with freezing cold temperatures not only makes it a challenging place to hunt, but a challenging place for all life that calls the prairie home. The number one cause of deer death here is starvation, not to mention the ongoing drought that continues to thin the deer herd. The odds of finding a big mature mule deer buck has been quite a difficult feat over the last couple of years. Help from local ranchers putting their land into walk-in hunting programs has opened the door for more opportunities to get on some of these big Dakota bucks.

This year I found myself hiking back fourteen miles from the truck in unseasonable cold and windy weather making for quite the hunt. I had spent my first three days prior battling the wind and cold packed into some BLM that connected to walk-in. The long grueling walk with backpack straps digging into my shoulders revealed the lack of physical preparation I had done after my elk hunting trip. Overcoming the tiered joints and aching muscles was only possible with the idea of a big buck and filling my last tag of the season in the back of my mind. The first three days turned up four or five quality bucks and the opportunity to sneak in and get some pictures of a nice bull elk. The first three days ended with not much sleep, between the packs of coyotes keeping me close company and my tent sounding like a jet about to take off, the cold night didn’t offer much rest.

Going into the fourth morning I had come up with a solid game plan based on what I had seen the three days before. I got up at 4:00 am and hiked through the dark to get back to the last two drainages of public access. As the sun started to warm the prairie I felt inside that today was going to be the day. To my surprise, the deer were up and moving early that morning, even with the 40 to 50-mile-per-hour gust of wind. It only took an hour to find the buck I knew I wanted to go after. He was heavy and old. The old white face of this deer almost told his story of the cruel and nasty conditions he has weathered on the prairie. This was not his first time dealing with the wind and he knew exactly where to bed, to escape mother nature’s cruelty. I devised my plan to sneak in within bow range to make a shot on this buck. I managed to slip an arrow into him at sixty-two yards. Resulting in killing my biggest oldest buck to date. You’ve heard this story a thousand times, but this is where the true work starts.

I was 14.45 miles from the truck. After quartering out my deer I had five big bags of meat and only one guy to carry it all out. I added all of this meat to my already heavy pack. I laughed while struggling to stand up with my pack on, for the first time with this heavy of a load. Immediately my legs and back started screaming at me telling me this was an impossible feat and maybe two trips would be required. I overcame that mental objection and pushed on toward the truck. The first hour or two of the pack-out seemed to be going okay. I would count out 500 to 600 steps and take a break. I had to find an object to sit on because my legs were getting too weak to stand back up. the next two hours became worse. With the uphill getting steeper and the pack not getting any lighter I mentally had to force myself to take steps. I was only able to get to 400 now. As I approached my sixth hour of Packing out my deer and now to the steepest section my pace had slowed to 40 or 50 steps at a time. Every step came with new cramps and new pains in my legs and back. The shoulder straps of my pack felt like they had cut into my soul telling me I can’t go any further. I pushed up the hill to the last four miles of flat before getting to the truck. This was truly the hardest part. There was nowhere to sit down, take a break and get the weight off my legs and shoulders. I pushed on using my bow as a walking stick and brace to get through these tough four miles. By the end, my body had pushed through all the cramps and soreness and was reenergized by the brutal punishment the land and this deer had put me through.

I couldn’t be more thankful for the land and god to place that deer in that spot on that day. I may not have another season filled with as much success as this one and for a moment I took all that in as I loaded up my last archery buck of the 2022 season. As this season comes to an end for me, my preparation for the next starts. I am also glad my dad got to come out and experience what I love to do post-shooting my buck. We were able to get on a number of good stalks but couldn’t quite close the deal in his three days of hunting.