My partner in this adventure was Carl Ward Jr. of I Mount Knives and Feather Leather. Carl was also the Chief Cook, Master of the Dutch Oven and lived up to his reputation as a culinary impresario; I think perhaps a new recipe or two was created. Regardless of the fine table fare; at that altitude we both lost weight during the week.
We arrived at Jacob's Lake in time for an early lunch on day one and from there we decided to scout a few areas we had marked on the forest service map as likely good hunting areas. Heading north on road 422 checking on the Mosquitch canyon area we pulled off on to a two-track up the Upper Mosquitch arm, stopping at the lower abandoned stock tank and corral for a little field time. It was a good area for roving so out came the traditional archery bows and arrows for a little "Arrows in the Air" time. After two days drive it felt good to stretch and shoot the bows.
This was a very scenic meadow lined with Aspen patches on the sides, with Ponderosa and Jeffrey Pine flats above those. Intersperse this with a few elegant blue spruce in the valley floor and you have a perfectly designed western mountain habitat. Winding our way south another five hundred yards we found our two-track cut off by dead fall (trees that have died and fallen from the weight of winter snow). The Aspen patch on our left at this point was so inviting that we decided to establish our camp and prepare to scout for game the next day.
With tents erected, cots & sleeping bags in place, gear stored and kitchen shelter set up we prepared a fire pit and gathered plenty of wood from the dead falls in the area. Carl prepared an Italian style stew in my 8" Dutch Oven hanging from his steel tripod over coals in the fire pit, then we made perked coffee on the coleman stove.
Coffee in our camp was a process that Carl had learned from camping with his Mother-in-law in North Carolina. Your going to want to try this as it really does make a better, smoother cup of java with less acid taste and fewer jitters that can come so easily with over boiled camp coffee. It is a three step process and the timing can be changed slightly to accommodate the altitude. Here is how it works, when the pot begins to perk let it continue for one minute (to a minute and a half) and turn the fire off for one minute, re-light the fire and let perk again for a minute and turn off, wait one more minute, re-light the fire, perk for one minute and turn off, let coffee settle for a minute and pour. This seems like a time consuming process but give it a try as once it becomes habit you really enjoy the coffee time.
Anyway the sky was so filled with stars that it was probably mid-night before we let the coals die down to the point we could hit the sleeping bags.
Early the next morning over coffee and young doe wandered into camp without realizing what she had done, she was less than 20 yards away when she realized what she had done and bolted through the aspens. Emboldened with this sighting we looked forward to our day of scouting. Heading South moving slowly and quietly through the shadows of the Aspen patches on each side (Carl on the west side, me on the east side) we moved toward the upper reaches of Upper Mosquitch about two miles in distance. Near the end we met another bowhunter who was retrieving his treestand. In talking with him we found his party had been very disappointed in the low number of bucks sighted but they had seen plenty of Does and fawns. This concurred with the results of our scouting trip and we headed back to camp. Arriving at camp early we decide to scout a little further to the North near the abandoned corral, not 300 yards from the camp we came across three holes in the ground in a line leading toward the valley floor some 50 yards below us. Each hole was about 2' in diameter and 18-20" deep, filled with rocks and deer trails coming in from five directions. Deciding we had found a natural mineral lick we put up my treestand in a Jeffrey Pine about 18 yards to the South to which I returned for an evening hunt. It became obvious by nightfall that any bucks in the area were using the mineral lick well after last shooting light, I resolved to return later in the week when we would have a full moon to extend my shooting light. In Arizona they have no set time to end shooting, as long as you have enough natural light to make the shot you are legal. The full moon did not prove to be much of an asset as it allowed me only an extra 25 minutes before the shadows from the Jeffrey Pines covered the shooting lanes.
Next morning we decided to scout other areas on our maps marked by friends of mine who have hunted the Kiabab before. We stopped at the North Rim Country Store for some ice and a bite of lunch and talked to other hunters. We met a young man named Chris who had hunted this area for nearly thirty years, he helped us mark our map for a camp site and a spot where they had observed 8 bucks crossing during the last week. I was going to hunt another ridge that evening where we had found fresh rubs but would move camp in the morning to the new area. The rub ridge did not pay off that evening, I did have a pleasant encounter with another Doe and she was sure surprised to see me so close. On my drive from the ridge back to camp my headlights caught the mineral lick and there was a very large 4x4 Buck getting his minerals. It was far to late 10:00 PM and well past any shooting light.
New camp is not so pretty as we are on a ridge top above the Aspen covered draws that hug the draws and valley floors. What little shade we have comes from a few giant Ponderosa Pines. There is a stock pond about a 1/4 mile away and it is being heavily used during the day time by cattle and night time by deer. My new hunting area is about a 1/2 mile wide and a 1/2 mile long. The forest is so dry that walking quietly is an impossibility with the exception of using the cow trails which are just powdered dirt, these are good for crossing some areas but they do not take you into the preferred deer habitat of the Aspen groves. It is obvious that the bucks are staging in an area at the head of draw about 300 yards north of the Stock Tank at dark and are waiting for any bowhunters to leave the area of the Stock Tank before approaching for a drink. Sometimes they hang up in the aspens on the other side of road 203 before crossing the ridge in the direction of the Stock Tank.
Day two at 4:30 AM I roll out of bed quietly, my camo's and archery gear wait for me in the back of my truck where I change as fast and quietly as I can. Carl has a bronchial cough and can only hunt small game or stay in camp, he will have coffee ready on my return around 8:00 AM. I take a cow trail that follows road 274 toward the stock tank, this allows quiet movement and I'm not silhouetted by moonlight as I would be if I used the road. At about 80 yards from the Stock Tank I find a large stump near some deer trails leading into an Aspen covered draw that leads toward the staging area. I sit on this stump knowing most of the deer have already moved from this area into their bedding areas, my hope is that there are a few that linger at the water until first light and then move into the Aspens. This does not happen, but the afternoon before we did have some light rain and I can now move about the forest with less noise, so I still hunt (moving slowly & quietly into the air currents with much awareness of your surroundings trying to spot quarry before they spot you, a tough game to play) along the upper edge of the Aspen grove toward the pine flats at the ridge top. I'm nearing the end of the grove and I have neither seen a bedded or standing deer or spooked any game from the area. I see an opportunity to move out into the flat and use a cattle trail that brings me within a 100 yards of camp. If I take this trail I can move even more quietly and should make camp without disturbing any wildlife in the area. I use my binoculars to explore the last 60-80 yards of the Aspen grove. I check every fallen log, every inch of any exposed trails and any likely areas for bedded deer, not an antler tip, not a twitching ear, not a half hidden long low silhouette that will give away a hint of a bedded deer, I then glass the Pine Flat and the route toward camp with the same results. Feeling sure it is safe for me to proceed I feel my morning hunt is now over and all I have to do is leave the forest undisturbed as I make my way to camp. I move away from the upper edge of the Aspen patch out into the Pine Flat maybe about 20 yards when I spot a male Kiabab squirrel who climbs a Ponderosa snag up about five feet and provides me with a fair but challenging shot. The male Kiabab squirrel is truly a bright spot in his world, a black face and rump area with dark in between and a full flashing white tail with which he can attract a female from a distance. Squirrel would be nice in the Dutch Oven I think to myself, a nice change of menu and both Carl and I would love to have that magnificent tail to decorate a arrow quiver. I pull a special small game arrow from my bow quiver (called a flu-flu for it's big feathers and blunt tip) and drew my bow to anchor, with total focus on his eye I release the string of my Black Widow hunting recurve bow and watch the arrow as it smacks the tree next to the quarry's head with a loud bang as the bark on this dead snag was loose and acted like a drum. Squirrel one, bowhunter 0 I mumble as I walk over to pick up my arrow from where it had bounced and lay on the leaves and forest litter. As I place the arrow back into the quiver I notice through my peripheral vision a nice buck standing broadside on the other side of a large downed dead fall Ponderosa. He was looking for the source of the loud noise and had obviously been bedded in that very spot for some time, I had missed him with my glassing. Being caught by surprise in an awkward stance and totally unprepared for the moment I snatch another shaft from my quiver, this time a deadly broadhead hunting arrow with a two blade hand sharpened head. A sense that he was about to bolt in response to my movement I draw my bow, careful to aline with the center of his chest I draw the string to anchor, focus hurriedly on that favored spot just behind the front leg thinking that this was it, I've made this shot a thousand times. I release the arrow and watch the brightly colored yellow and white feathers tickle the hairs on his chest as it passes less than an inch below his chest. I stand there in disbelief as he bolts and disappears into the forest, I count my steps to his bed, 36 and I had calculated 32, my heart sank as I found my way back to camp, Carl and coffee.
More rain was to follow and by evening it was obvious that the deer no longer needed the crossing to get water, they were finding plenty just on the browse they were eating, their pattern of behavior was no longer predictable and hunting just became a great deal harder. It is time to pack up the camp and return to California where wildfires are devastating most of my favorite hunting areas. It's going to be a challenging year for me and my quarry but the forests await and I will return.
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