The Family Package
By Nicholas Gebhardt
"I wonder what that is," I thought to myself as I raised my Leupold Wind River 10X42 binoculars to my eyes. I only had a few hours to hunt and I was looking for a decent buck, or a doe if that was all I could find. I was fortunate enough to be home with my wife's family and only had a few hours before returning to Bozeman, MT for the remainder of the college semester. My wife and her family were rounding up cattle for branding that morning and I was turned loose on their property for a few hours before the long drive back.
The early morning was calm and the sun was at my back as I worked my way up the wide valley to the west that also had multiple draws branching to all directions. I had been lying on a small hilltop for the past five minutes enjoying the brisk November air of eastern Montana, diligently scanning the surrounding terrain all around me, when I noticed a silhouetted shape on the horizon to the west. I could barely make out antlers on the skyline through my binoculars, and I estimated the deer to be somewhere around 1000 yards away. The ridge was high above my location and I immediately started looking for a route up to the top in pursuit of the deer that was now my target.
As I planned my route to intercept, the buck slowly turned and began picking his way down what appeared to be a near vertical cliff in my direction. I decided to stay in my location and continued watching the buck to see which direction he would go after reaching the bottom of the cliff. The buck could take multiple routes after getting to the bottom so I didn't want to move until I knew which direction he would eventually turn. After only a couple short minutes the mule deer buck had reached the bottom and stood on a small bench looking down the draw that was to my immediate front. As I gazed through my binoculars at the deer, it stood motionless, also staring intently at something that had caught its interest. I quickly scanned the draw to my front, constantly coming back to the buck to ensure he was still in the same location. I could only imagine the buck was looking at a coyote, as I was on private property and there were no other hunters in the vicinity. This waiting game lasted for over ten minutes as I waited for the buck to continue his journey to wherever he was headed.
I soon realized that my patience needed improvement as I grabbed my pack and rifle and slowly back crawled down the hilltop, ever careful to stay low to the ground to avoid skylining myself to the buck which was now below my own elevation, but still must have been close to 800 yards away. As soon as I dropped out of sight of the deer, I began running to the next available hilltop a couple hundred yards up the valley in the direction of the deer. I had a good fix on the buck, and he had been standing still for such a long time that I was confident he would still be there another couple minutes later. Imagine my surprise when I peered over the next hill that was to be my firing position and found that the deer was no longer where he had been.
My binoculars were up to my eyes as I frantically scanned the terrain looking for the buck. I was afraid he had caught a glimpse of me as I backed down off the previous hill. I had pulled down the bipod legs on my rifle and had set it immediately to my right side. My backpack was still on and my heavy breathing tried to fog up the lenses on my optics. What seemed like a couple minutes of searching was probably only less than one as I found the buck. He had simply dropped down into a shallow gully below the bench he had been standing on and was now coming up the far side. I was in luck. The buck had absolutely no clue I was in the area watching every move he made. The buck now seemed intent on going somewhere as I easily reached over and grabbed my rifle, pulling it in front of me and snuggling in behind the Leupold 3.5-10X40 VX III scope. I had already reached forward and flicked open the lens covers and then manipulated the well worn and butter smooth bolt.
The particular rifle I was carrying this hunt was a custom built tactical type rifle that I had fired in 1000 yard competition before. It was chambered for the hard hitting 300 Winchester Magnum and my bullet of choice was the 190 grain Sierra Matchking at 3000 feet per second. I knew this rifle very well and was confident taking a shot at more than 400 yards on an animal if I had to.
By Nicholas Gebhardt
"I wonder what that is," I thought to myself as I raised my Leupold Wind River 10X42 binoculars to my eyes. I only had a few hours to hunt and I was looking for a decent buck, or a doe if that was all I could find. I was fortunate enough to be home with my wife's family and only had a few hours before returning to Bozeman, MT for the remainder of the college semester. My wife and her family were rounding up cattle for branding that morning and I was turned loose on their property for a few hours before the long drive back.
The early morning was calm and the sun was at my back as I worked my way up the wide valley to the west that also had multiple draws branching to all directions. I had been lying on a small hilltop for the past five minutes enjoying the brisk November air of eastern Montana, diligently scanning the surrounding terrain all around me, when I noticed a silhouetted shape on the horizon to the west. I could barely make out antlers on the skyline through my binoculars, and I estimated the deer to be somewhere around 1000 yards away. The ridge was high above my location and I immediately started looking for a route up to the top in pursuit of the deer that was now my target.
As I planned my route to intercept, the buck slowly turned and began picking his way down what appeared to be a near vertical cliff in my direction. I decided to stay in my location and continued watching the buck to see which direction he would go after reaching the bottom of the cliff. The buck could take multiple routes after getting to the bottom so I didn't want to move until I knew which direction he would eventually turn. After only a couple short minutes the mule deer buck had reached the bottom and stood on a small bench looking down the draw that was to my immediate front. As I gazed through my binoculars at the deer, it stood motionless, also staring intently at something that had caught its interest. I quickly scanned the draw to my front, constantly coming back to the buck to ensure he was still in the same location. I could only imagine the buck was looking at a coyote, as I was on private property and there were no other hunters in the vicinity. This waiting game lasted for over ten minutes as I waited for the buck to continue his journey to wherever he was headed.
I soon realized that my patience needed improvement as I grabbed my pack and rifle and slowly back crawled down the hilltop, ever careful to stay low to the ground to avoid skylining myself to the buck which was now below my own elevation, but still must have been close to 800 yards away. As soon as I dropped out of sight of the deer, I began running to the next available hilltop a couple hundred yards up the valley in the direction of the deer. I had a good fix on the buck, and he had been standing still for such a long time that I was confident he would still be there another couple minutes later. Imagine my surprise when I peered over the next hill that was to be my firing position and found that the deer was no longer where he had been.
My binoculars were up to my eyes as I frantically scanned the terrain looking for the buck. I was afraid he had caught a glimpse of me as I backed down off the previous hill. I had pulled down the bipod legs on my rifle and had set it immediately to my right side. My backpack was still on and my heavy breathing tried to fog up the lenses on my optics. What seemed like a couple minutes of searching was probably only less than one as I found the buck. He had simply dropped down into a shallow gully below the bench he had been standing on and was now coming up the far side. I was in luck. The buck had absolutely no clue I was in the area watching every move he made. The buck now seemed intent on going somewhere as I easily reached over and grabbed my rifle, pulling it in front of me and snuggling in behind the Leupold 3.5-10X40 VX III scope. I had already reached forward and flicked open the lens covers and then manipulated the well worn and butter smooth bolt.
The particular rifle I was carrying this hunt was a custom built tactical type rifle that I had fired in 1000 yard competition before. It was chambered for the hard hitting 300 Winchester Magnum and my bullet of choice was the 190 grain Sierra Matchking at 3000 feet per second. I knew this rifle very well and was confident taking a shot at more than 400 yards on an animal if I had to.
The Family Package - 2
I immediately had the buck in my scope and was tracking his movements with the mil-dot reticle. I was estimating the distance to be 300 yards straight across the draw as I reached up and dialed three minutes of angle onto the M3 dials atop the scope. As I watched the buck, waiting for him to pause for just a short second, the next thing that happened caught me completely off guard. The nose of a mule deer doe came into view as the buck I was watching seemed to walk up to the doe as if they were old friends. It was at this particular moment that a sinister grin crossed my face as I immediately formulated my plan.
I had three tags in my pocket. One tag could be used for either a buck or a doe, and the other two tags were for does only. I could take both of these deer from this one position. The buck I had been watching and his new girlfriend began circling each other and as the buck would begin approaching her from behind, the doe would trot away playfully, taunting the infatuated buck.
My plan was simple, I was going to wait until the buck was fully engaged in the most sacred act that no man should be interrupted in doing, the sacred act of being a man and spreading his genes. It was at that particular moment that I would seal the bucks fate, that sacred moment when he was feeling the best in his entire life, that moment when I would end his life. I patiently waited for several minutes, watching the mating routine at work and watching the mule deer Casanova work his magic on his soon to be mate. As I said earlier though, my patience needed some work.
I had had enough waiting and decided to take my shot the moment the buck stood still for just a moment. He finally did as the doe trotted away one more playful time. In that split second I began my firing routine. My position was solid as I exhaled and paused at the bottom of the breathing cycle. The crosshairs settled behind the bucks shoulder as he stood perfectly broadside facing to my left. My trigger finger began to naturally apply pressure as it had hundreds of times before on this very trigger.
A short moment later, the buck was still standing perfectly still as a thunderous boom echoed down the valley, immediately followed by a hollow whoomp, indicative of a solid hit on the buck. As I came out of recoil, blood splatter was immediately evident on the hillside behind the buck and he was staggering forward. He fell less than 10 yards later, life pouring out of his chest.
The doe ran a short distance up the hill at the sound of the shot, then turned around and watched her boyfriend expire below her as if wondering what he was doing. As I watched the doe look at the buck below, my firing hand reached up and worked the bolt on my rifle and chambered another round, immediately followed by the crosshairs in my scope coming to rest on the doe's front chest. She was facing toward my direction, quartering slightly to the right. She hadn't run far and was not much beyond my estimated 300 yards. I hadn't even noticed, but I was already into my firing routine and pressure was already being applied to the trigger.
A second shot rang down the valley, accompanied by the beautiful sound of another solid hit. The doe sprinted down hill into the draw bottom just out of my view. Based on the amount of blood creating a trail streaming down the hillside from where she stood, I knew she would collapse shortly after reaching the bottom. I took a short moment to look around at the countryside surrounding my position, and then began to pack up my gear and collect my brass from the two fired rounds. I only had been given a few hours to find some deer, and within about one hour I had two nice deer on the ground that would grace the table with their meat at our home.
The day prior to this I had also taken a whitetail doe fawn from another location on the in-laws' property. As the wife and I drove down the gravel road going back to Bozeman I told her my tale of the deer, which now rested lifeless in the back of our pickup. My wife had the wonderful thought to take some pictures to remember this special occasion so we slowly came to a stop. My wife is a nice country girl and of course had no qualms about dragging dead deer out of the pickup and arranging them nicely for a remembrance photo. This is the photograph that is now known throughout our entire family as "The Family Package."
Nicholas Gebhardt has been an active hunter primarily pursuing mule deer, antelope, coyotes and prairie dogs since he was old enough to legally hunt. Nicholas is a precision rifle competitor and uses the knowledge he gains from competition shooting to aid in his ethical taking of game in the field under most any condition. He enjoys custom rifles and is usually in some form or another of either planning or building the next one. Nicholas has his B.S. in Wildlife Biology from the University of Montana and is a Captain in the Montana National Guard.
I had three tags in my pocket. One tag could be used for either a buck or a doe, and the other two tags were for does only. I could take both of these deer from this one position. The buck I had been watching and his new girlfriend began circling each other and as the buck would begin approaching her from behind, the doe would trot away playfully, taunting the infatuated buck.
My plan was simple, I was going to wait until the buck was fully engaged in the most sacred act that no man should be interrupted in doing, the sacred act of being a man and spreading his genes. It was at that particular moment that I would seal the bucks fate, that sacred moment when he was feeling the best in his entire life, that moment when I would end his life. I patiently waited for several minutes, watching the mating routine at work and watching the mule deer Casanova work his magic on his soon to be mate. As I said earlier though, my patience needed some work.
I had had enough waiting and decided to take my shot the moment the buck stood still for just a moment. He finally did as the doe trotted away one more playful time. In that split second I began my firing routine. My position was solid as I exhaled and paused at the bottom of the breathing cycle. The crosshairs settled behind the bucks shoulder as he stood perfectly broadside facing to my left. My trigger finger began to naturally apply pressure as it had hundreds of times before on this very trigger.
A short moment later, the buck was still standing perfectly still as a thunderous boom echoed down the valley, immediately followed by a hollow whoomp, indicative of a solid hit on the buck. As I came out of recoil, blood splatter was immediately evident on the hillside behind the buck and he was staggering forward. He fell less than 10 yards later, life pouring out of his chest.
The doe ran a short distance up the hill at the sound of the shot, then turned around and watched her boyfriend expire below her as if wondering what he was doing. As I watched the doe look at the buck below, my firing hand reached up and worked the bolt on my rifle and chambered another round, immediately followed by the crosshairs in my scope coming to rest on the doe's front chest. She was facing toward my direction, quartering slightly to the right. She hadn't run far and was not much beyond my estimated 300 yards. I hadn't even noticed, but I was already into my firing routine and pressure was already being applied to the trigger.
A second shot rang down the valley, accompanied by the beautiful sound of another solid hit. The doe sprinted down hill into the draw bottom just out of my view. Based on the amount of blood creating a trail streaming down the hillside from where she stood, I knew she would collapse shortly after reaching the bottom. I took a short moment to look around at the countryside surrounding my position, and then began to pack up my gear and collect my brass from the two fired rounds. I only had been given a few hours to find some deer, and within about one hour I had two nice deer on the ground that would grace the table with their meat at our home.
The day prior to this I had also taken a whitetail doe fawn from another location on the in-laws' property. As the wife and I drove down the gravel road going back to Bozeman I told her my tale of the deer, which now rested lifeless in the back of our pickup. My wife had the wonderful thought to take some pictures to remember this special occasion so we slowly came to a stop. My wife is a nice country girl and of course had no qualms about dragging dead deer out of the pickup and arranging them nicely for a remembrance photo. This is the photograph that is now known throughout our entire family as "The Family Package."
Nicholas Gebhardt has been an active hunter primarily pursuing mule deer, antelope, coyotes and prairie dogs since he was old enough to legally hunt. Nicholas is a precision rifle competitor and uses the knowledge he gains from competition shooting to aid in his ethical taking of game in the field under most any condition. He enjoys custom rifles and is usually in some form or another of either planning or building the next one. Nicholas has his B.S. in Wildlife Biology from the University of Montana and is a Captain in the Montana National Guard.
