I utilized
this title based on the fact that this hunt took me to the maximum limit
of my physical and emotional capacity. When I completed my harvest of
this precious trophy, I found myself totally exhausted from the physical
effort I had bestowed. My tears of joy were made present, along with
a mixture of emotions, gratitude and happiness. With a crumbling voice
I thanked Jorge Gonzalez and that Chihuahua desert for allowing me the
opportunity to hunt this lovely majestic animal.
With much
anticipation and great expectations we started our first scope and spot
session on Wensdsday, December 7th. Jorge and Javier (my companion and
friend) went one way and Jose, the ranch hand and I went another. We
had not walked even 5 minutes when Jose showed me a lovely Mule deer
of about 1 ½ years, of which did not flinch upon making ourselves
present. We observed him for a few moments and at the same time scoped
the area for more animals, contemplating the idea that adult females
and of course an adult male would be lurking near by. Although, this
was not the case, this little deer was on its own which made us think
that the Mulies were already on the "RUN".
We kept
walking above the kilts of the sierra, overlooking canyons and creeks
and we observed tracks along the way, which were many. Everything indicated
that we were heading in the opposite direction that the animals were
moving. Regardless, we decided to continue on with our plan and meet
up with Jorge and Javier to the point we had agreed on, which took place
2 hours later.
On this
first session I felt good physically and spiritually. The tranquil walk
through the hilly sierra made me believe that I was trekking through
the path of Zaragosa, of my beloved Saltillo.
Arriving
at the point of our reunion we commented on our viewings. Jorge and
Javier had not seen anything and all we encountered was a deer of 1
½.
We decided
to go on another session. Jorge went one way, I another and Javier and
Jose were to wait for us further ahead in the vehicle. This search was
of no luck either. I was not able to see any Mulies and Jorge only saw
a group of 4, at a very extreme distance.
In the
late afternoon we agreed to scope over a particular ridge and canyon.
We chose a very good position for this and as a result we had a great
view of various other canyons and a much promising gateway. During our
time here, Jorge decided to take a hike to some hills with the hopes
of seeing some movement. I stayed and waited, and at the same time focused
my view on that panoramic landscape and scrutinized with my binoculars
to a point as far as my eyes could see.
With the
sun coming down we knew it was an indication that meant it was time
to head back to the ranch. Jorge had discovered several female Mulies
over a slope, but opted not to stir up any noise so that the following
morning we could resume the hunt.
The following
morning we got a late start, nevertheless Jorge assured me that this
would not be a problem. He said we would follow their tracks and wake
them from their morning sleep, an event that occurred, just as Jorge
had said.
Again we
separated, Jorge and Javier went one way and Jose and I headed another,
concluding that if neither of us encountered anything we would reunite
at a rivulet that was further down. While scouting over those ridges
and canyons I seemed to have heard a gun shot, but since we were not
clearly sure we decided to continue forward trailing the tracks that
the Mulies were leaving behind.
At a very
far distance, standing on a ridge I was able to view an even greater
ridge at another part of the sierra that enticed me to change my entire
plans and make a quick visit. I called Jorge on the radio to inform
him where we would be and to my great surprise was informed that they
had produced their trophy, a beautiful 9 point Muley.
At this
time the plans changed again. Jose went for the horses and I headed
to where Jorge had harvested his trophy, first to congratulate him and
secondly to offer my help in towing this enormous animal towards the
vehicle, which easily weighed about 120 kilos.
Just as
Jorge had predicted, the animal was laying asleep in a creek. The stirring
of the nearing hunters awakened the animal, making the animal erect,
only to be knocked down by one accurate shot in the heart pursued by
a 300 Win Mag of Jorge Gonzalez at a distance of 30 meters.
The rest
of the day was spent transporting the Muley to the ranch house, skinning
it and preparing the meat for a delicious Chihuahua style meal; a meal
which was exquisite.
Early the
next day we pursued our plans, discussed the night before. We headed
out to that high ridge that I had fancied the day before. We had a grand
distance to hike in order to have the sun facing our backs and luckily
the wind current was to our advantage. We walked for approximately 4
hours. We crossed a large valley and many ridges and creeks till we
finally got to the rivulet. Once there we saw a great quantity of Mule
deer tracks. Plus the outstanding size of some of those tracks truly
caught our attention.
Once again
we continued our hike following those tracks, walking through the sierra,
climbing and descending canyons, ridges, creeks and slopes. This certain
area was ideal for the animal to have jumped out in front of us at any
moment. That's a sentiment we both shared, but nothing occurred. We
were not able to locate our prey.
We continued
our journey on a great stretch, upon seeing in the far distance another
high ridge that was also as enticing as the first. But we decided to
leave it for a later time. We settled for mounting yet another ridge
to keep searching for our trophy and at the same time progress towards
the area where we left the vehicle, of which at this time was considerably
far.
I was totally
exhausted from climbing that ridge. My pace of walking has slowed down
somewhat, my entire body felt considerably hot. An indication that I
knew I was fatigued. I walked behind Jorge with my head hung low; contemplating
on whether or not to advise him that we needed to stop for a moment.
Despite
of the way that I was feeling something inside me told me to continue
and keep quiet. So there I went with my head hung low when all of a
sudden I hear Jorge whispering, "PSSST, PSSST" and then the
words "THERE'S THE DEER"….. He was at an incredible distance
of 20 meters from us. The animal obviously sensed something which made
him stand up and start trekking, escaping from us.
I quickly
raised my 270 WSM, inserted my telescope, looked through it and the
Muley engrossed the entire lens. Viewing it at such a short distance
was an overwhelming feeling. More overwhelming was when I discovered
that my shot had missed the Muley. I still cannot explain how I failed
at such a short distance, but that's the way this is…
We lost
sight of the animal. Jorge ran one way hoping to observe which way it
had gone. I ran to the direction of a canyon and stood at the peak of
that ridge overlooking a great slope. It took only a few seconds to
see him racing through this panorama. I hollered to Jorge and simultaneously
I pointed my rifle at that beautiful and majestic animal, of which at
that moment did not seem to be running, but flying.
My second
shot seemed slow in progress. I immediately released the next cartridge
and with much composure pointed and followed his movements, the bullet
did not even make a dust cloud, yet the animal did not even show signs
of being grazed. However, when it arrived staggering at the other canyon
he appeared to be in distress. He stopped at a foothill and was not
aware of what was happening. At that moment I wanted to take another
shot, but my timing was not precise, for the Muley once again was not
within our sight.
Jorge says
to me "I'M GOING TO INSPECT THE AREA WHERE HE STAGGERED TO CHECK
FOR ANY SIGNS OF BLOOD". I ran up the slope hoping to see him on
another canyon and stop him on his path….. I stopped at a certain
point to observe, several long minutes went by without seeing a thing…..
My thoughts were inundated in frustration and anger because I felt like
I had let him escape from my grasp.
I will
never forget that moment when I heard Jorge's voice over the radio "PEDRO,
GET OVER HERE! I FOUND TRACES OF BLOOD, YOU GOT HIM!" Such was
my emotion upon hearing those words "YOU GOT HIM!".
It did
not take us long to locate him. There he was laying midway on a slope
at the foot of a cactus, gazing only at us. As one remarkable Mexican
hunter and his Premium Weatherby put it "HERE I TOOK HIS LIFE IN
EXCHANGE FOR HIS IMMORTALITY", a sentiment that will be present
in me for eternity.
