All photos courtesy of Felix Madrid
Washington's high buck hunt has all the ingredients for the perfect hunt. It's the first season open for rifle hunters and starting in mid-September, promises good weather. As the name suggests the only management units open to the hunt are those in pristine wilderness. You have up to ten days to seek out a trophy (or at least legal) mule deer buck as they seek out the last of their summer feed spread across the cascades before descending to the lowland valleys and foothills for the winter. The wilderness designation also mean you earn the hunt, putting in miles to explore terrain, and ideally setting up camp to stay closer to the terrain. The catch is that success rates for the hunt are exceedingly low. Low as in only 5% of hunters in the unit we were targeting harvested a deer the previous year.
I felt I had a few things in my favor this time though that might bump my odds up slightly. Calls to wildlife managers, a tip from a friend of bucks seen in the past, and awareness of a better region to explore. I poured over google satellite imagery and topographic maps, finding a spot where one could hop along a ridgeline to glass across multiple basins. It also coincided with a place where I had ski toured before, so I was familiar with it. It seemed like it would be off the common trails just enough to avoid crowds. The last piece of the puzzle was roping in a friend to join, which happed a couple weeks prior when I was able to talk my friend Felix into joining. He also wasn't planning on picking up a tag despite being a hunter himself and the one who’d previously spotted a deer in the area we were targeting. My odds may have just doubled.
* * *
The plan was set out Friday early afternoon, both to beat the city traffic and to ensure we had time to reach the first ridgeline before dusk, allowing us to take advantage of two evenings and two mornings for glassing the basins we'd prioritized for the trip. This mostly held up. A late appointment added on my friend's calendar, a last-minute trip needed to the outdoor store to grab my license, and a quick grocery run to ensure we were stocked for the weekend. As is my norm, I was beyond anxious to get to the trailhead, struggling to make good conversation for the drive.
Pulling off the highway we started passing the vast farms and ranches that dot the Eastern range of the cascades. The road winded along a medium sized tributary, the lowest point in the glacier formed valley that reached up into rocky peaks. The riparian lands and agricultural fields here would form part of the migratory journey for the Mule deer we sought, likely still too high in elevation to form as wintering grounds.
We pressed on, turning north as the road shifted to one of the forks of the river. Leaving the private lands of the valley, we were climbing further up in elevation entering the national forest. The trees stood tall, reaching high and forming a canopy that covered most of the road. Pavement gave way to gravel road, and gravel road after a turn gave way to a narrow double track road with flora growing up in between the tire tracks.
* * *
We'd arrived around 5 PM; about two hours until sunset, and a little over four miles to hit the ridgeline. We assembled our gear and set off, pushing a brisk pace despite the heavy packs. Felix had the tent, and I the stove. He carried a camera to capture the trip, and I the rifle and other assorted hunting items set to make the trip a success. Spotting scope, tripod, binoculars, rangefinder; much of the gear on its maiden voyage; we were equipped with what was needed for the weekend.
The trail set off along a small mountain creek emptying the water from the South facing basin that we were pushing up. All the hike up was out-of-bounds for the hunt, with the wilderness area open for the early season starting at the ridgeline. We pushed hard quickly breaking a sweat and tiring our legs prior to hitting the second wind. Lower pines were intermixed with occasional small meadows. The trees grew sparser and the meadows more frequent as we gained elevation.
One hour in we had reached the alpine basin. A broad flat meadow lay at the bottom, with a few stands of pines covering a small portion. These patches moved up the walls of the U-shaped basin, excepting areas where avalanches likely removed trees, and areas where only scree or rock sat. We were in mule deer territory though we were running short on daylight.
We pushed on to a trail at the NE edge of the basin continuing our trek to hit the ridgeline in time for glassing. As we covered the last ground, we saw our objective nearby. We tired under the steepness of the climb, despite short switchbacks here and there. Despite the exhaustion of racing time with 35lb packs on our back we pushed the last ridge of ~800ft relatively quickly reaching the NW saddle of the ridgeline with 30minutes to spare.
This was reason for the trip. We had in front of us the mirror image of the basin we'd just climbed, extending out 3 miles in front of before hitting one of the main streams that emptied out the center of the wilderness area. Peaks rose on either side of us, more prominently on lookers-right of the basin, adding on addition 500ft of elevation; this being the summit previously reached on a ski tour. Beyond the stream rose more mountains extending even higher, these ones facing to the SE.
Felix and I both set up to start glassing trying to find comfortable positions among the dry rocks, careful to sit just down from the ridgeline to avoid sky-lining ourselves. With the sun setting, the colors along the basin walls shifted from bright orange to darker shades and finally dim light bereft of color. We glassed all that we could see but didn't see any movement. Nothing for the first night beside frigid hands, drained of warmth and moisture from the cold alpine wind.
Thirty minutes after sundown, we made our way back down the ridgeline some to a relatively flat space we spotted on the hike up. Under the light of headlamps, we set up the tent, cooked up freeze-dried dinners on the camp stove and set out the gear. We talked about the majesty of the views and mountains over mac and cheese and a few nips of whiskey from the flask. Tomorrow would be another day.
* * *
We woke before sunrise, eager. We set water to boil and geared up. We made coffee and then went back up to our posts. The morning's weather was kinder, warmer. The sunrise was spectacular but the deer as non-existent as the previous night. It was easier to relax and crack a joke though this time, enjoying the warm sun on our skin, lack of wind, and a feeling of having an entire day ahead of us. We lingered a bit before heading back down to pack up the tent and get moving again.
We picked our way across the ridgeline, allowing us to scope out a new basin as we moved deeper into mid-morning. Glassing again, no luck as well this time but we were treated with new sights to see. The rock scrambling required to work our way across the ridgeline, and then down the slope into the basin is one of the charms of these backcountry hunts. Picking your way outside the normal trails, paying closer attention to your surroundings in search of animals, other things become audible and visible. Marmots perched on rocks shrieking. Flat spots to mark for future camp spots. Even just a different view of a classic mountain can be the benefit of a little bushwhacking.
Most of the morning went by similarly with a couple notable events. First was a glaring lack of water that caught us by surprise. We had packed a couple liters of water each and had both run dry. There was little water to be found and headaches reached both of us before we finally hit a little spring fed trickle working its way through the basin. We filled our canteens and dropped in the iodine tables, relaxing while the water was purified. Shortly after this we hit a trail of deer tracks. We followed these closely and cautiously until finding that they had jumped the ridgeline back out of the legal unit. They might've run right behind us while glassing that morning.
* * *
In the early afternoon, we picked up a hiking trail that would take us from one basin to the next, stepping outside the hunting unit briefly once again. We made our way hiking at a quick, yet relaxed pace, chatting. Nearing the rise again that would again demarcate the legal hunting area we were caught off-guard by three deer in a little clearing about 40 yards off trail. We both stopped and backtracked behind a tree. Creeping forward, we eyed two does and one three point mule buck, just barely marking a legal deer for the season. Legal deer for the season if it was about 50 yards north of its current location, that is.
Feeling like time was of the essence, I quickly hatched a plan of running ahead and finding a spot to ambush the deer in the wilderness area. I asked Felix to wait five minutes or so, and then seek to push them up over the ridgeline to where I would hopefully be lying in wait. I took off in a jog, pack and all, and pushed the distance of the remaining trail to the wilderness area. Once there, I set to waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
Finally, giving up, I started walking back and met Felix coming my way. Unsurprisingly, a plan hatched out of hastiness did not go as expected. First off, I was not set up in a good spot to intercept them should they have jumped the ridge as I hoped. Second and more importantly, the deer did not jump the ridge but instead took a hard left south and went the opposite way as planned. With hindsight, and more patience, the better plan would've been to keep an eye on the deer and mark their movements, watching where they were going and allowing for reactions with two of us if they headed the wrong way. A lesson for another day.
* * *
We set up the tent and made our way up to a new glassing spot. This one with the most majestic platform of the trip. Out in front of us, a massive peak prominent in the distance. Rolling hills, fingers and draws, forests, and streams filled in the massive landscape between us, the far off peak, and rugged cliffs to our West. We were treated with the sounds of elk bugles as the sun set. No animals were spotted but a special evening to say the least.
The next morning was similar, appreciating the sunrise once again. Two hours of glassing still produced a slight hope. Through the binoculars I spotted quickly what I thought might be potentially a deer about two miles out. No matter how many times I searched the area over again, I couldn't place it again. Not having some certainty of what was there, we decided to let if go and set out back to the truck. We were happy at the adventure and views. I felt content with the ground covered and the deer we had sighted so close. Of course, I was also feeling a little bittersweet over the end of the weekend and the cruel fate of running into the only deer just outside the legal zone. It was the perfect Washington high buck hunt.
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