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I wish this was a story about me shooting "stud" but instead it is about me shooting one of his buddies This hunt started out pretty normal for me. Work all night; try to take a nap; pack up everything; kiss your wife good-bye; and hit the road at midnight. Slight differences, my hand was jacked up from a cactus thorn in my knuckle and I had a crowned tooth that hurt like heck. Oh ya, my wife thought I was nuts for leaving. Drive went great, seventeen hours and I was standing in the rain at the trailhead. Not light rain "oh nice" but "turn your wipers on high" rain. Not having room in the car to sleep, I changed my clothes; put on my pack; grabbed my bow; and hit the trail. Hour later, I had enough. I had three hours of sleep in the last day and a half and I was spent. I found a dryish spot and threw up my tent. I ate my favorite mountain house and crawled into my sleeping bag. The next morning found me at 12500' at the edge of my unit. I had a problem. My well thought out plan of hiking in another four miles was being challenged by what I was seeing in my glass. Believe it or not, I sat behind my tripod and within five minutes glassed up the big four point I called "stud" and his buddies. Do I stick with my plan and keep hiking in or set up camp four miles from the car? Bird in hand, right? I found a great spot for a camp and filtered out twelve liters of water. I was home. Later that evening, I glassed another four bucks in the same bowl. I was ready for the first day. Alarm went off at 400 am. A quick cup of coffee and a bag of oatmeal, and I put the head lamp on. I needed to get some elevation before sun up. At 13200', I put up my tripod. I was above the same bowl that "stud" called home. As it lighten, I started glassing. Holy crap. Not "I am glassing five miles with my 15's", but within 200 yards below me where 13 mule deer bucks and 5 bull elk. I watched for a hour waiting for "stud" to bed. I heard a noise behind me. Another hunter? No, a band of 9 rocky mountain sheep ewes. They crossed above me at fifty yards and that when heck broke loose. They hit my scent and took off. As one, the whole bowl full of horns went up. Not knowing why, they watched the sheep run towards them. Within minutes, there was nothing left to look at. They were all in the dark timber and I was by myself. I spent the rest of the day climbing, glassing and taking pictures. Spent the night under the full moon. My evening had been a bust. Nothing had really got out of their beds. A few does and small bucks. Had I cleared off the mountain all ready? Up again at 400 am and back on the same spot. Totally different day. 4 bucks and a few does. I slipped within a 100 yards of a big three and watched as he fed down the hill into the pines. Today I was going to be more aggressive. I waited a bit and slipped into the pines myself. Deer trails and elk rubs is what I found. What I didn't find was the big three. By noon, I was on another hill top. Keeping me company in the wind was this little guy. I was going to be eating my forth dinner and with only two more to go, I needed a plan. I really didn't want to give up on the spot and head deeper in with only a couple of days of food. I decided to try one more morning and see what showed up in the bowl. I was convinced that I hadn't chased everything off the bowl. I start slipping back towards camp. Sitting down for the evening, I glassed up "stud". I was right above him, a mile or so from where I seen him last. He was feeding with his buddies, the "knobby" four point and the tall two point. I slipped within 80 yards. I didn't shoot. With the wind, it was too far for me. I just am not that guy. I watched as they into my scent and then they were gone. Putting my boots back on, I found their tracks on a trail towards home. A couple hundred yards and I eased over a ridge and saw a buck watching me. At 24 yards, I could see his horns in the pines with my naked eyes. I didn't think twice. I drew and shot for thirty. He dropped. The tall two point. I wasn't disappointed a bit. He was a perfect deer for me. I had hit high so I followed up with a shot to his neck. A quick couple of pictures because I had to bone him out before dark. With my hand being weak, I couldn't pull out the arrow from his neck. Sorry. I filled up my pack and climbed up the 1000' to the pass. Hung the meat in the trees and hit the stack happy. Another Colorado tag filled with out ever seeing the unit I was going to hunt in. Awesome. I know some of you a scratching your heads. In some ways I was too. I had ten days to hunt and I was seeing better deer. But for those of you who have seen my "walls of mediocracy" know me better. When I set out for a solo hunt, I like to complete the whole process. Horns don't really matter. I like to fill my tags. It is part of the process. Someday I will get a "stud". Like I told the guy who gave me a beer at the trailhead the next morning, "I had fun"