My First Border Buck
Let’s be honest: most people wouldn’t call southern Arizona a pretty place. Outside of the occasional strand of flowering ocotillo, it’s a sea of inhospitable terrain. It is unforgiving topography, and for those who hunt there every year it is known as unit 36B; I call it the border. And if I’m in earshot, you’d better not call it ugly.
I’ve come to realize that the chase of Coues and the uncertainty of the desert is what you come out here for, not just to down an animal. Glassing for hours on end and flat-shooting rifles are inseparable in the wide open adjacent to the Buena Aires Wildlife Refuge—and for good reason—the tiny whitetails known as Coues deer.
This was my sixth season hunting border deer. It has taken me that and much more to learn to hunt these crafty and magnificent creatures. My back home method of hunting deer with my durable Marlin 30-30 (with open sights, no less) sitting in a tree-stand over well-traveled game paths wasn’t effective in the wide open—and certainly not suitable for the slippery desert Coues.
The appeal with long-range shooting started in 2006. The draw process was new to me and I was determined to get a tag. I had a friend explain to me hunting deer along the border was a great way to get out in the field because draw success odds were really good. However, that sage advice came with a caveat-- beware the perils at the border—“it’s a trail of tears down there.” He said. There’s good reason for leftover tags—there is high anxiety at every turn. I’ve always been told to carry a good walking stick when hunting. At the border, I contend it's better to carry a 45.
The naiveté of that first hunt was probably a good thing. I did some research and eScouting, but, admittedly, I had no idea where to begin. I convinced a friend to join me in the draw and we were delighted to score to two buck permits. We spent some time prior to the hunt to check out the terrain. By opening day we were feeling pretty good. We found some areas that looked promising and lightly equipped with a pair of handheld 8 x 42 Nikons and my Remington .300 win mag I was feeling well-suited for big game. Of course, nothing could have been further from the truth.
The best way to describe that initial hunt is to say we left empty handed and humbled. There was an upside, however. By coincidence, we happened to find ourselves sharing the same mountain one morning with two other hunters. Despite feeling like a couple of Yankees in the deep of Dixie, we quickly became friends since there few other options that morning. After a few minutes of setting up, it was obvious this wasn’t their first rodeo, and I’m all but certain sure they got a laugh at me and my blaze orange.
Since that first year at the border, we have recorded some interesting tales. There was the one year we rescued an illegal immigrant in the middle-of-nowhere after he had been abandoned by his group because of injury. Another time, a woman came into our camp asking for help. Despite these hitches, we have avoided most of the landmines, so to speak.
Harvesting success didn’t come until year three when my friend was able to connect on a modest 3 x3. In 2011 another friend that joined us hooked-up on a big 4 x 4 at 477 yds. We have come to love the border and have nicknamed some of the more interesting places and favorite spots. There's the $10K Hill, Hope's Corner, and Two Bucks, just to name a few. Of course, like most other hunter's we are not prone to revealing our favorites.
This year there were three of us in our group armed with 36B tags in hand for the first hunt in October. No doubt we were hoping for cooler weather (like we always do), but again that was not to be the case. Our expectations were high as they usually are before the open. We scouted the day before the open in area that we knew held deer, and was highly encouraged after my hunting partner glassed a decent size buck around 350 yds. near dusk. We decided to go back opening morning and see if we couldn’t get on top of this big buck.
Opening morning we rallied early but the morning hunt was a total bust. There was a stiff wind and the glassing conditions were next to impossible. The afternoon session was even worse—I didn’t glass one deer opening day. I’m thinking I might be going 0 for 6 at this point.
Nonetheless, I decided to give that spot one more try Saturday morning to see if I couldn’t get a look at that big buck earlier. It was calm and crisp in the dark wash where we parked our quads and for some unearthly reason the big ascent up that hill seemed effortless in the cool. I knew, however, that once we change to shooting light, time was not our friend because it was going to get hot quick.
I love to chew: Saturday was lucky for me in that I always glassed the greatest number of deer on that day. Maybe it takes a day to shake-out the cobwebs or calm the nerves from hyper-glassing opening day. Nevertheless, I was feeling good. I recently purchased a new set of Leica’s (with built-in range finder, of course) and lightened my pack thanks to new, super-lightweight tripod. I was sitting in the same spot where I met Mike and Dan 6 years ago (the cool dudes I met there the first year). It was shooting light and I just put in a fat chew and settled back-in behind the glass for a stint of cammando glassing.
A wise man once told me that the desert is a vertical place. “Tree, grass, bushes, branches, and shrubs all grow perpendicular to the ground.” He said. He went on to say “To successfully hunt Coues you need to examine all things horizontal—be detailed oriented and don’t overlook the motionless profile of a deer’s spine, ears, and antlers.” What initially caught my attention was the silhouette of a motionless deer body that looked like a tipped-over 55 gal barrel suspended in air. There was no determining the sex or size since the animal’s head was down for what seemed like an eternity. Nevertheless, my Leica’s revealed whatever it was, it was a cool 247 yds. downrange.
My hunting partner was glassing about 10 feet from me with my old set of Swarovski 15’s when I asked him to help put some more glass on the target. By now the deer had looked up and was staring right at us and his rack looked enormous—it appeared to be at least a 4 x4. Naturally, I was biased of his size at that moment, but when my friend whispered "whoa, nice deer!" I had no choice but to agree. Simultaneously, though, I am totally ill-prepared for a shot. My rifle is out of reach where I had comfortably settled in and to get it meant having to get up. This was a disaster in the making! However, there was no anxiety and no panic, but an overwhelming sense of calmness.. It proved to be a good morning as I breathed deeply, focused, and lined up the 247ish yd shot. The bullet was perfect. The deer took a couple of steps and fell over. I could see the frozen rack in the binoculars and knew it was a clean kill. After a few high fives and fist pumps, we hiked down to deer and was delighted to see it had grown two more points that I hadn’t seen earlier. My first border buck was an exquisite 5 x 5.
My buck scored net 100” when the taxidermist called me a few days later with the report. Of course, I was delighted with the three-figure number. Can’t wait until the draw so I can put in for a deer tag in the most inhospitable countryside that I’ve come to know and love only as the ‘border.’
