Dani's First North Dakota Mule Deer Buck

Since my walleye fishing is not coming to fruition I decided it was time to share my hunting experience over Dani's first mule deer hunt. The story is long over due but with no further a due I hope you enjoy the story.

I’m slowly growing older and have come to realize time moves quickly and with it, so does the dulling of some of my fondest memories. During previous years I hunted alongside my dad and other family members in search of does and even though they were good years there was nothing like hunting with my dad for my first buck. I didn’t think I’d ever get to relive such a cherished memory but 15 years later it happened again. However, I’d be serving a different role.

In my own personal assessment I believe there is no more a passionate hunter than a North Dakota mule deer hunter. Year after year they put in for the hopes of the covenanted mule deer buck tag and after five long years my girlfriend Dani finally received her prized Badlands tag. Sure Dani was ecstatic but I had my own excitement looming as my role of a hunter transformed tutor; something I eagerly welcomed. Okay, perhaps tutor is the wrong word. Addicted to the Badlands themselves, Dani’s parents enjoyed the previous years with their daughter in search of mule deer does. They taught her the real purpose of hunting and Dani embraced every moment. Dani isn’t your typical tag-along-I’m-doing-it-just-to-do-it type hunter. She truly enjoys each and every challenge the outdoors presents. Her parents and family deserve the same credit I give my dad and family for teaching me. And while I’m giving credit, you should give credit to whomever mentored your first experiences in the outdoors.

Needless to say, excitement grew as the opening weekend of scouting season approached. Dani and her cousin Nick both drew mule deer tags and I was more than happy to assist them in their scouting efforts. We met at a dark intersection atop a descent into the Badlands constructing a crude plan for the day’s scouting. Being I was fairly new to the unit Dani and her family hunted we opted to put forth miles on the pickup to better acclimate ourselves with access roads, terrain, etc. We stopped on several occasions putting to use the spotting scope. To make a long day’s event short we seen a couple intriguing prospects. Our biggest excitement during a hot dry day was my miserable miss on a very nice archery antelope. I don’t know who was more disappointed, me or Dani.

Although, additional scouting trips seemingly became intertwined, a couple trips stuck out above the rest. Geared for archery I accompanied Dani off a scoria oil road early in the morning. The main objective was scouting for a mature buck for Dani and Nick but Dani refused I leave my bow since she yearned to watch me kill an antelope or mule deer buck. I said I would carry my bow but would leave behind the decoy because we were packing deep into the Badlands and, after all, we were scouting for mule deer. Long story short, Dani and I witnessed one of the finest displays of antelope in rut I’m sure we’ll ever see. Dani’s earlier plea for me to take my decoy turned into almost bitter resentment as it became evident a decoy would have all but sealed the deal. We hunted him patiently and closed within 10 yards at one time but trees negated a shot. In the end, he won a three hour game of chess. One month later, however, I evened the score as I watched my uncle embed a well placed shot with his rifle.

Regarding scouted mule deer, we again observed a couple potential shooters but being non-spectacular we chose to scout different areas on our following trip.

Just enough darkness remained to conceal our assent to various vantage points. Dawn began to choke dark shadows from the cool and calm Badlands and as it did, the optics transmitted enough light exposing near and distant mule deer from their morning habits.

Whispers of “can you tell if it has horns” and “do you see the group of trees below the clay strip to the north…there’s a deer just below them” dominated the first ten minutes of first glass time. Additional light came available allowing for more efficient dialing of the spotting scope. It wasn’t long as I let out an excited, “It’s a buck!”

With the buck too far for binoculars, Dani and our friend Matt took turns looking through the spotting scope at the lone buck browsing along a grassy shadowed hill side. We spent a few moments dissecting his head gear and decided he was something to note but nothing Matt and I were interested in pursuing with our bows, especially so early in the morning given the main objective was scouting for Dani.

Resuming our assent to a sunless horizon the optics fell upon several other deer with most being small bucks or doe and fawn pairings. Atop a narrow corridor we continued further into the depths of the rugged Badlands where I laid eyes on a respectable buck. He was wide and fairly tall but lacked back forks and mass to qualify as a jaw dropper. Cleverly bedding below a hilltop with the wind at his back he was deemed too difficult to make a move on. Dani, losing focus on the main objective, was rather disappointed we didn’t pursue the buck. I had to chuckle to myself as we continued up and over a steep break,”She really wants to see something fall to bow and arrow doesn’t she!”

Climbing elevation left behind vegetated bottoms bringing forward gumbo based hillsides thanks to a prior evening rain. Confined to traveling south facing slopes we took our time navigating through slippery situations. Time was of essence as morning primetime was rapidly giving way to the dog days of afternoon and as we continued forward changes in glassing tactics became necessary.

Instead of focusing on feeding areas we shifted to shadowed bedding areas. Dani was growing as an optics handler making me proud as she honed in on high points near cedar trees and sand rock formations. She was in this for the fun, challenge and opportunity to learn. This would be a great hunt with a great hunting companion.

Unfortunately, we hadn’t found a “Wow Factor” buck and with only one weekend left it made hunting somewhat a head scratcher because a person just doesn’t know where to start, where to hold strong and when to finally move. Don’t get me wrong, we found a couple animals that showed us at least some genetics were in the area so even though we didn’t have a for sure dedicated buck number one or two, we at least had a place to start.

Our season opener took place near one of her family’s favorite hunting grounds. A recent mishap with other hunters in the area had gotten a popular road closed down but Dani took it upon herself to gather permission to access a road where the Forest Service had no easement. Graciously, the landowner said yes.

It was Dani, her cousin Nick and I who entered the cool, damp and calm dawn. Even though it was opening day and legal shooting wasn’t until 12:00 p.m. they were troopers in wanting to get out and see what the morning would show. Upon a favorite perch we sat and glassed as the rising sun shed more and more light.

On a prior scouting trip I had seen a group of three bucks with the rear buck being the biggest. He was a very wide buck, that I know, but he didn’t present me ample opportunity to dissect the rest of him. As morning crept forward I spotted a wide, very wide mule deer buck. We were a bit too far to make him out with the low light levels so we moved in closer. Atop a new vantage point I zoomed in and it was not even a question this buck had to be the one I saw about a month earlier being we were only half a mile from where I previously saw him and his two partners. However, this time, they weren’t so chummy with one another.

The big wide buck was impressive with at least a 27” inside spread. His front forks were massive in their own right. But to his discount he had no back forks nor was heavy antlered. Instead, back daggers but even so, they were pushing 15 inches if not higher in height. His two friends were younger deer with each great potential. One stood out above the other and after a very long and even stressful conversation Dani chose to pass. Nick, however, liked what he seen in the taller friend. He said, “That’s a pretty nice buck and for my first, I can’t complain.”

The next few minutes we discussed the best course of action. There were still a few hours before shooting time so I did what I could to describe Nick’s best options for waiting out the buck. Most likely they would bed but if Nick stayed a close distance he should be able to keep an eye on them. It was the perfect situation, especially if they bed giving Nick ample time to take careful aim. Nick grabbed his pack and was on his way. Dani and I chose to leave Nick behind and continue forward in attempt to not lose valuable glassing time. If we heard a gunshot ring out, we’d come back to celebrate. If not, we’d just keep moving and meet up later.

Within a couple climbs Nick nearly became a speck on the Badland’s floor. Dani and I were careful not to silhouette ourselves but it didn’t last long as we were forced back down versus struggling through steep clay banks. Now alongside the beginning of a mellow creek bed nearby antelope stood not far off to the east. Up ahead an attractive vantage point presented itself. To its west a cedar covered slope drained toward a flat grass bottom providing a perfect place to intercept or spot a late bedding buck. Before we reached the ultimate position a few does and a small buck were in our way. Patiently, we let them move out of sight. I was in front of Dani as we approached the top of the ridge. While stopping to take a breather before peaking over the approaching ridge I told Dani to glass off to the south as I did the same off to the west.

Normally, the appropriate protocol for spot and stalk ridge hunting is to slowly creep over not exposing one’s self too quickly. The minute you do that, the minute you mess up. Sure enough, I popped over the ridge to sit and when I knelt there lay a heavy antlered mule deer buck. I motioned to Dani to get her gun ready. Looking at my GPS it still wasn’t noon yet so my next thing to do was to have her look at the deer. That would mean more commotion. She moved over to me as quiet as possible. Luckily the buck figured he was smarter than he was and remained motionless thinking we didn’t see him. It gave us an opportunity to look him over nicely.

It is moments like this that raise a buck hunter’s heart rate. It is opening day, just a few minutes from noon and a nice buck sits in front of you. What to do? He is a narrow buck but fairly heavy and fairly tall. His forks are not massive but they are not small either. In addition, he sports a hook kicker off his left side and a decent set of brow tines. Dani turns to me and asks, “Should I take him.”

This is another one of those trying times…

I don’t like being in this position. What do you tell a first time buck hunter whom is a girlfriend to a guy who got lucky the year before and shot a once in a lifetime mule deer? Her expectations are high and she wants to extend her hunt and try for a “big buck.” If you want a very big buck, you cannot shoot one that isn’t…especially on the first day. However, the rule is never pass up a deer on the first day you wouldn’t pass up on the last day. Argh, I don’t know what to do and scenarios are flying through my mind. I keep hoping the deer gets up before noon but it doesn’t. In the meantime, I’m going back and forth with Dani. “I don’t know Dani, it has to be up to you.”

I looked her in the yes and muttered, “If you shoot it, the hunt is over.”

Before she can respond I add, “Is he what you want?”

Dani simply responds, “I don’t know.”

That style of discussion continues and when the buck stands it elevates to a whole new level. Instead of making it easier for both of us and move into the thick drainage he goes straight up toward a clear saddle. As he trots away from us his antlers grow, his mass gets heavier and even the sticker gets longer. I whisper to Dani, “You need to decide.”

She responds, “I don’t know TIM!”

Calmly I finish with, “If you don’t, I bet we can find him again.”

Dani takes her finger off the trigger and peers over her scope. Now silhouetted, the buck poses as if he is the Monarch of the Valley and then calmly walks over the hill.

Sigh...deep breath…focus…

The sun was high and yet no report from Nick’s rifle so we made our way to where we left him. On our decent the usual, “did I do the right thing” and “what if I don’t get a buck” and the “was he big enough” phrases dominate our conversation. Knowing it would be a reoccurring theme I chuckled to myself remembering my first buck hunt with my dad. I now understood what it was like but as he did, I welcomed the challenge.

Back where we left Nick there was no sign of him or the deer. We moved carefully not to folly up any attempt he may currently be cloaked in. Another hour passed and still no sign so we returned back to the pickup. He recently reached the pickup himself and was drinking a bottle of water. We shared stories and Nick’s day ended with no sign of the three bucks. Oh well, like I said, lots of hunting left.

That evening and the next day we hunted hard but didn’t find anything that intrigued either hunter. The next morning we tried a new area which produced bighorn sheep sightings and later that afternoon we helped Dani’s mom drag her mule deer doe out of a creek drainage. Over an afternoon break I assured Nick we could probably find the buck he had hunted opening afternoon. He showed interest and that evening we picked up the pursuit.

Dani’s parents dropped us off and we worked slowly toward the location I felt the deer would be. Moving forward, stopping to glass and repeating the process didn’t bring us much other than a few antelope and some mule deer does. The sun was getting very heavy off to the west when Dani and I broke away from Nick. He stayed put in an area he was watching a few distant deer as Dani and I continued to the west. Creeping up to a grass covered ridge an inch at a time I caught glimpse of the back of a feeding mule deer. Inching forward, antlers became exposed. Sure enough, it was him.

With Nick being a distance behind we did all we could to get his attention. Finally, he caught glimpse of our motioning and he made his way to us. All I can say is, oh to be young again, that boy covered some ground!

Being the closest we had ever been to this buck I told Nick to make sure he was sure it was what he wanted. It took a millisecond for him to respond with gasping breaths, “I didn’t bust my butt all this way to let him walk.”

Soon after, his rifle rippled through the calm Badland’s air. Nick’s first mule deer buck lay across the canyon.
Conveniently, Dani’s parents had been hunting their last doe in the same drainage and after hearing Nick’s rifle they communicated with us and were able to get relatively close with the pickup. As it always seems, the sun was dipping fast and by the time we reached the other side her parents met us in darkness. After a few high fives, some photos and field care we were soon on the dark trail back to the pickup. Nick’s first mule deer buck hunt was officially in the books.

It’s Dani’s turn.

It was decided we had exhausted our scout area so the next morning we’d work land to the south. Under the first glimmer of dawn Dani and I snuck to the top of a bluff overlooking a wide drainage nestled beside a cedar tree. Using the spotting scope and binoculars we picked out a few deer in various directions. But with every swipe of glass the rising sun grew closer to popping from the east horizon. To gain more optic time we crept west periodically stopping to glass. It led to similar results of smaller bucks and does. A highlight to the morning pertained to a mule deer buck raking his head gear against a leaning poplar. Echoing across the hills he was certainly accomplishing his goal of proving his dominance with every bang of his antlers. Dani and I agreed it was good late morning entertainment and on that note the first weekend of deer season came to an end later that evening.

Some would call it unfortunate but to me Dani stuck at work the second weekend of the season is what I’d consider the opposite. Being a third weekend junkie because of the rut, colder weather and less hunting pressure confidence was increasing even though the forecast suggested warmer than average temperatures. Warm or not and Dani or not, I was headed to the Badlands alone. It was tough for Dani but she seemed okay with it; after all, her assignment for me was extended scouting. Talking with Dani and looking at maps the next few days it was decided I’d comb terrain never seen by my eyes. It went a little against my style because normally I focus on familiar areas while hunting.

While stopped for fuel I stood outside comparing printed aerial maps to my custom NDTrax GPS chip. The Lowrance updated to 4:00 a.m. as the clang of the fuel nozzle abruptly broke my concentration. Setting aside the GPS I glanced at the pump total chuckling to myself, “All this time and money just to crawl into the dark Badlands for a mule deer buck?”

A little less than two hours later I drove up to the access trail only to be greeted with surprise and disappointment as three vehicles rest at the gate and above them a faint glow from climbing LED bulbed hunters. The competition changed plans a little but after covering a little extra ground in hopes to correct for wrong winds it wasn’t long and new country became visible to my spotting scope. Like previous trips with Dani the hills exposed a few mule deer but instead of silence the bark of a nearby rifle hunter ripped throughout the westward river bottom. Frustration set in as I wondered if the basin dominate buck took a dirt nap. Nothing I could do but head further to the east and find another.

I believe an hour passed as I lay on a hillside watching a respectable buck interested in his four doe companions. After a couple minutes of conversing alone I somehow talked myself out of pursuing the buck with my bow. My initial thought was if I left him alone Dani and I would be back in just a couple short days. Of course, being a connoisseur of the Badlands I was basically more attracted to seeing more virgin ground. So I saved the coordinates, strapped the spotting scope to my back and off I went.

The afternoon lull quickly set in and after only a few doe sightings I made my way back to the pickup for a sandwich, some almonds and a few bottles of water. Then it was map time again. With map across the hood I become intrigued by the topo and road less area not far from where I stood. Although, it wasn’t completely foreign given earlier in the year Nick, Dani and I had done some scouting just to the east. In fact, not too far away Nick had seen a nice 5 point bull elk. No objections from anyone so I was on my way.

I don’t know why but whenever I walk into the Badlands I wonder if I am the only human to ever place my foot on the clay hardened soil. Shortly after the random thought I was forced to a pinch point where I walked up onto human prints from what I guessed belonged to a bow hunter I met on the road in. I was somewhat disappointed but my goal was to keep moving toward the “back country.” The issue, however, was the previous hunter had the same idea but eventually I out walked the prints and was once again alone.

It all became worth it as I peered upon what looked like someone’s gun barrel shining in the sun. With Leicas in hand I was pleased to see a back tang belonging to a mule deer’s nicely boxed frame. My heart rate accelerated because earlier in the year I had conversed with a fellow mule deer fanatic about a mule deer he had been bowhunting. I never asked his location (there are some things you just don’t ask…nor tell) but needless to say, I was impressed with what I saw and more so, excited I could have maybe found the buck I was half jealous over. However, there was doubt being a victim of a ten second glass opportunity and unable to get a good long look before the buck dipped into a low spot and never seen again. The rest of the evening presented a couple other bucks before I finally crawled from the darkness.

Driving home and toward cell phone reception I was able to connect with Dani and my dad. Most of the ride home I explained I had maybe found something special. Of course, doubt remained but I was fairly certain Dani would be hunting a big mule deer in just a few short days.

Here’s where the rest of Dani’s hunt begins and ends.

The third weekend was upon us with four scheduled days to hunt. The terrain was pretty rugged stuff, in fact, some of it the roughest the Badlands can take claim to. It would be a hunt of learning on the fly including how creeks meandered, where the best vantage points were, where deer liked to browse, and perhaps the most important, was locating the safest yet most efficient way to navigate the land during low light hours.

Thursday morning kicked off an early accent across challenging ground. Covered with a heavy frost the climb was to be desired but we slowly labored up and over a steep wash reaching our first vantage point. Moving toward the east we approached an area I discovered on my previous trip. Creeping slowly forward rounding around a colony of cedar trees Dani and I laid eyes on what every mule deer hunter dreams of seeing. In front of us, a doe stood with a nice antlered mule deer buck with his head and neck bent to the sky portraying a picture perfect lip curl. The buck was a prototypical mule deer with decent forks and bonus eye guards. He wasn’t eye striking heavy but he was a tad over average. His width rest at about 23 inches and height rivaled close behind.

According to my GPS mere seconds separated legal shooting time as I directed Dani to position herself for a potential shot. We had time but a doe and a fawn off to our right were growing weary as I looked over the lip-curled buck in more detail. Seconds later, a whisper carried the dreaded question to my ear, “Is he the one you saw?”

It was clear this buck was not the giant I thought I had laid eyes on just a few days before but this deer was no slouch, especially for Dani’s first. Here’s where the opening day back and forth discussions took place. Let me tell you, Dani made a decision most would not and elected to pass on this very nice buck. She said, “It’s Thursday and we have four days to hunt for that buck you saw or maybe we will see an even bigger deer.”

Being completely honest, I spent the next 30 minute hike to our next vantage point reeling if I had made a mistake in supporting her decision. But she was right, we were still hunting, had plenty of time left and another deer could just be around the corner…and it could be “the” deer.

In search of the “one” we meandered down a drainage only to zig-zag our way back up to a vantage point. It is difficult to express how I felt as we tippy-toed around each and every nook, juniper, butte top or creek bend. It was a feeling of butterflies, excitement and pure adrenaline. I could see it in Dani’s eyes as well where each move we made anticipation of seeing a large antlered mule deer buck kept our interest peeking. But as dawn broke to early morning and early morning gave way to late morning our excitement transformed to doubt. Even though it shouldn’t have been a trying time in the hunt we both had hit a plateau after spending the last couple hours glassing new country. With only seeing a few deer the doubt turned to near resentment as the questions spurred regarding the deer Dani passed just a few hours ago. Knowing what was on the verge I said it was time for lunch and a nap.

We never intended on seeing the pickup until darkness so we packed accordingly; laying claim to a sun drenched prairie grass top we tucked in beside some cedar trees. Enjoying a sandwich and overdue water we discussed what was on the agenda. Being about two miles from the pickup Dani and I agreed to work down toward the end of the current drainage we were in and then cycle back to the pickup putting the sun to our backs for the evening hunt. Discussion aside, we extended the legs and let the snoring commence…yup…Dani even snored. That only happens from one too many cocktails or pure exhaustion. I chuckled before I did my own snoring.

Having rest long enough the rotation of the earth stole warmth from the afternoon sun awaking both Dani and I. The high noon sun was now casting shadows throughout various angles of the rugged landscape and as any mule deer hunter knows shadows often equals deer movement. Although a little early, my past experiences had carved an understanding that off the beaten paths you’ll find mule deer stretching and repositioning themselves alongside shadowed hilltops, creeks and rock formations. It didn’t take any longer then about ten minutes after we resumed our travel to prove the theory true once again.

Tucked along a sliver of shadowed clay a mule deer doe stood peering over her shoulder. Scanning further, both Dani and I laid our binoculars on a mule deer buck. He has everything a mule deer hunter wanted in decent brow tines, a good inside spread and big forks but he was missing one ingredient by having perfectly clean 13 inch daggers for his backs. Mule deer often times can be non-attractive when they do not have what Boone & Crockett requires them to have but with this buck, there was a neat look to him. Again, a decision had to be made. This time, I was involved more than ever because an inter battle between whether or not this back daggered buck was the buck I had seen in an earlier scout trip. In my mind, I pictured a much bigger set of antlers but on the opposite spectrum perhaps I was fooled into thinking the deer I scouted was much bigger.

Getting the scope ready we sat and looked at him for several minutes battling doubt, whether it mattered and whether or not Dani should shoot. Yet again, Dani chose to pass but I could see a glitter in her eye telling me she liked this buck’s style. Even so, we continued on and after a long few hours followed my GPS under complete darkness to the pickup.

The next morning we set foot just to the south of where we had seen the dagger buck due in part to the morning wind. Silently I recited over and over to myself what I seen on the scout trip was not the buck we seen the evening prior. Even so I couldn’t convince myself and to be fair to the glitter in Dani’s eye I chose to work the divide just to the south of where we saw the dagger buck. It offered a balance between still scanning the area during prime time for the “imaginary” buck but still put us in position to cross paths with the dagger buck.

As usual the ascent to the top of the drainage began at dawn. We spent considerable time working through some rather unfriendly country. Physically it wasn’t over taxing but to our binoculars we were being disadvantaged due to short distance glassing. Handcuffed, we moved a little quicker hoping to secure additional glass time closer to the main drainage. Now atop a big plateau I felt as we should be calling for elk because of engulfing pockets of juniper and cedar trees. The close quarter combat persuaded Dani to chamber a round in case we walked up on top of a bedded or browsing brute. Neither happened but as we approached a cutoff to the drainage below a sense of urgency set in.

Standing in a quartering toward us position the dagger buck was trapped in a sun glazed meadow. I whispered to Dani, “There’s the dagger buck.”

Here the story goes into fast forward motion.

Dani and I both kneeled to discuss the situation which unfortunately forced the daggered buck’s attention as he angled his alert ears toward us. It was time to decide and after a few moments of back and forth “should I’s” Dani finally said she liked how the buck looked. The doe to his left became nervous and all but sealed the deer’s fate as Dani slid the safety off. The sharp clap from Dani’s .270 startled me and to my eyes it looked like she had hit it too far back. I unfairly reacted when I said, “Why did you shoot it in the ass for?”

Dani quickly and stern said, “I didn’t, or I didn’t mean to!”

I’ll be honest, there was a lot of emotion with Dani and I both overwhelmed with doubt, with sadness and absolute excitement. I comforted her with a hug reassuring she did a good job and that yes, indeed, it is a nice buck. You see, Dani was having what I call Completed Hunt Remorse of which I think many of us feel each and every time the trigger is touched.

Collected, we started our way down to the creek system where the buck disappeared. Approaching a small feeder creek the remaining morning chill added to our adrenaline soaked bones as we peeked carefully in case the buck had not expired. I slapped Dani on the shoulder starling her with an excited, “There he is!”

Dani wasn’t wrong; her first buck didn’t make it more than 20 feet, a clear indication of a well placed shot. I was proud of her and I let her know. But I also let her know, the work was just about to begin.

According to my GPS we were a mile and a half from the pickup. Normally that isn’t too bad because often times the drainages run in perpendicular fashion to the major creek they feed. The issue we had, is we had a severe down and up because the drainages switched from a north and south direction to an east and west direction. Anticipating a pack out I shouldered my Mystery Ranch pack while Dani used an Eberlestock X1. Cheating, we used rope I always carry with me and hung the buck from a nearby deciduous tree. In a few short minutes we had it caped and deboned. The relief was short lived, however. Our first step and the next several hundred were up hill.

Standing for a breather I gave Dani a thumbs up sharing what my dad had said each and every time we recovered an animal from the Badlands. Of course, given it was an abnormally warm day for deer season both Dani and I would better agree once we reached the pickup. Nearly two hours later, we did.

To end our story I want to return to where I said, “This would be a great hunt with a great hunting companion.” The reason I am 5,949 words deep in this story is because this was a special hunt for me. Dani is someone I enjoy being with and hunting with and it takes someone with the same desires, same drive and same frame of mind to accompany you in the field. Let me tell you, she has fit the bill. At the moment of impact Dani had a lot of doubts on how big the buck was. For me, I was somewhat disappointed she felt that way. That shouldn’t have been what it was about and I explained that several times. To ease my mind, she did understand and was happy with the buck but simply had the “what if” syndrome many of us have after the hunt comes to an end. Sure, she passed on bigger deer including never finding out for sure if we could have caught up to the big tanged buck (of which after the season was confirmed to be in the area) but Dani in her heart, liked how this deer looked. She was satisfied by not only the buck but more importantly by the hunt and with clear conscious took her first mule deer buck. I could proudly live with that and felt fortunate to have been along her side. The hunt taught me many things about her and about myself and basically put, it assured a purchase I had made a month earlier. That purchase was a ring.

This last July I asked Dani to be with me for the rest of my life. I didn’t disclose this publically to the site because I didn’t want to make it about me. But unfortunately for you, I sapped up the story’s ending because it just seemed fitting after I had to re-write the story due to a major technical failure. So there you have it folks, the 2009 story of Dani’s first buck hunt is complete. I look forward to many, many more.

Enjoy the photos. And above all, cherish each and every moment in the field whether it is with a good friend, a spouse, a significant other or family member. I know hunters are merely a tool of conservation but let me tell you, there is something healing about the outdoors. Use it as that and you’ll never be disappointed.

The Family	Nick's First Mule Deer Buck	A Bighorn Along The Way
Heaven in My Book	Some of the Roughest Around	Dani Waking From Healing Nap
Dani's First Buck	Not Another Soul Around	A Side Dagger View
A Moment of Admiration	A Second Moment...	One of Many Big Grins
Smiles All Around	Grins are Contagious	A Shot With Dani's Prize...
A Stop For Air...	Dani Spotting Some Bighorns	A Closer Look
Dani Looking On	Still Smiling	A Look Back
The Big Day
A Nice Night For a Boat Ride Can You Say God's Country?	The Plan Worked Perfectly... I Am Asking...	She Said Yes...
About How It Looked Before Dani Turned To Notice	A Closer Look	The Closest Look Paint Soaked In..Then Ran Out!
I Don't Think Dani Cared About The Letters Though...	We Went To Shore To Visit and Do Some Photos	I Had My Doubts...
But They Were Short- Lived...Heh, heh!	Time For Some Fun...	Fun Result 1... Your Doing It Wrong!!!!
Fun Result 2... My Personal Favorite	The Crowd Admiring... Or Maybe Not?  Heh, heh.	Even Strangers Seemed To Enjoy The Celebration
One Last Look... A.K.A. Sigh of Relief!	I Even Hid Champagne Without Her Knowing!	And Off The Newely Engaged Go!!!

As many of you know my love for the Badlands is strong but still remains second to the landscape where I grew up.  The mid-sections of Lake Sakakawea and espeically that of the Reunion Bay area is in my opinon one of the most breath taking areas of the lake...and dare I say any place in the entire state and beyond.

Being such, I wanted to assure asking Dani's hand in marriage would be special.  As you can see from the photos my plan was to sneak Dani up on letters I cut out and placed on a nearby hilltop.  Here are a few items of criteria: 

I wanted it to be warm (failed..it was chilly).
I wanted it to be sunny (failed...it was cloudy and rained earlier in the day).
I wanted no problems (failed...my battery was dead before I got in the water).
But above all, I wanted Dani to be surprised.

July 3rd looked to be lost but God provided a window of opportunity and in the end it worked absolutely perfect.

We stopped to fish an area and to be completely honest, I was gut wrenched.  I didn't think I would after eight years of dating Dani but when I looked to the north and in the distance saw my Dad, his fiance Brenda and my sister Tristen putting up the letters the nerves hit me like a train.

Then the text came in...it was time.

Dani had just thawed from the distant boat ride and I already wanted to go.  She was not impressed but I said I wanted to try a spot as the sunset fell triggering a low-light bite.  Soon after reeling up the Warrior was on plane and as I reached the top end Dani become chilled again and put her back toward the bow of the boat.  Inside I was estatic because she was no longer looking where the boat was going.  As I got toward the center of the lake I slowly veered the boat toward the sun-lit letters.  Dani knowing where the fishing spot peered toward it and gave me a dirty looksking where I was going now.

I swallowed hard, pointed to the front of the boat and slowed the boat.  Dani turned, was completely confused and said "Is this for real...."

Not the typical answer you'd think but in the meantime I dug out the ring and knelt in the boat.  Filled with tears she said yes...and I shed a tear myself.

Finally...about time...it was over.

However, the very second the ring went on it quickly came off.  I had finished the insurance process but hadn't recieved my official documents so I was taking NO CHANCES and asked her to take it off immediately.  She understood but it was funny seeing her initial reaction.  Ha! 

The party then began!  Bon fire...keg of beer...and good friends and family.  The day turned out perfect.

I must give a special thanks to my parents Jay and Jayne for giving me what I have in my life.  It it wasn't for my mother's loving hand and my dad's crisp teaching voice I would not be the person I am today.  And of course, thank you Lord for such a beautifully sculpted piece of Heaven we as humans identify as Reunion Bay...and of course providing a perfect weather setting. 

I Would Rather Be ______ing

Trent (Sotaman) Thomas