Trip Report
Deer Hunting the Toiyabe National Forest
Tuesday October 14, 2014 12:20am
Yes, I know it's not climbing; but I did take climbing gear with me.

It's that time of year again when the leaves change, the days get shorter and colder, and guys like me try to fill the freezer with meat. This time around, it was on a mule deer tag to the area northeast of Elko, NV, in an area I'm becoming fond of and familiar with due to several hunts conducted over the past several years.

My friend from Fairfield and I left Carson City on Thursday evening, spent the night in Elko with an old friend (who also drew the same tags), then headed up the Deeth road toward a long weekend of fresh air, dust, and work in the mountains. We hiked, carrying packs to haul meat and some basic survival gear. Up the mountains and down the gullies, aspens in various hues of crayola yellow, flaming orange, and silver-white bark. We crept through thickets of mountain juniper, spruce pines, and crackling dried-up mule ears. Long hours of sitting were spent on rocky volcanic ridgelines with binoculars held up against the eyes, shivering in the wind that blew our makeshift tent tarps to shreds, hoping to spot the elusive animals we determinedly sought.

At last, after days of seeing throngs of hunters plying the dusty roads in trucks and atv's, a herd was spotted working its way slowly down the mountain, some miles distant. My partners- having expended more energy in a day than they normally do in a week- were thoroughly beat, to the point that 45 minutes before sundown, they gave up the ghost and sent me away to do the dirty work myself.

I moved quickly through the sage-covered slopes, crossed the ravine and plowed headlong up the ridgeline, opposite of where the deer were sauntering downslope. Getting near the outcrop from which I hoped to take a shot, I slowed, stomach churning by now from the exhaustion that plagues you when you put out a massive physical effort, and tiptoed as quietly as I could through the dry twigs and tiny leaves that fall around the ancient and stiff-limbed mountain mahoganies. Every little rustle, snap, and raggedly stifled breath seeming to perforate the airwaves around me with deer-spooking audibility.

At last, the fabled outcrop of my recent daydream! I crept forward, rifle in hand, crouched over and head down like a scolded puppy. Peeking over the rock, exposing only enough of myself to get a clear view, I spotted my quarry. I slipped loose the pack and set it gingerly on the rock. I leaned forward, half standing half lying, and lined the rifle for and efficient shot. Nerves twitching, heart thumping, sun slipping slowly over the horizon, I steadied my wretched body and squeezed.

It was a clean kill.

The herd bolted, I tagged my animal and started the hard work. The work nobody likes. The wind kept whipping, the sun slipped away, and the drone of a thousand oblivious ATV-mounted hunters whined their way forelornely down the canyons. Just me and this beautiful dead animal, slowly fighting our way through the sage together on the side of the mountain. I paused, realizing I hadn't said my usual little word of thanks to the universe, and quickly uttered one in reverence, or maybe apology, for what I'd done and in appreciation for the meat that would feed us over the next year. I felt better. But the work continued.

So it goes, in places that some people will never see or appreciate. I invited my companions to climb; but their aching muscles and the blisters on their feet said otherwise. We finished quartering and icing my deer, admired the milky way and the fast moving clouds building over the peaks in the waning moonlight, and turned in for a fitful three hour nap in the buffeting wind and the light drizzle that just pattered over us before evaporating into the dust of a pre-dawn alpine start. One more tag to fill.
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jonnyrig
About the Author
jonnyrig climbs, just a little bit. And some other stuff.

Comments
survival

Big Wall climber
Terrapin Station
  Oct 14, 2014 - 01:27am PT
Nice writing jonnyrig! Beautiful area too. Eastern NV surely has some special areas.

Congratulations on the hunt!
rincon

climber
Coarsegold
  Oct 14, 2014 - 08:08am PT
That's the way hunting should be. On foot, far from the road, tracking the game in their own environment. It seems so much more sporting than the guys who spend their day driving back and forth on dirt roads sittng on their asses in their trucks and atv's. What is going on there? I'm at a loss to figure it out. Do they jump out of the truck with guns drawn when they see a deer? That can't be legal? Anyways...Good on you Jonnyrig for being a real hunter.
Mungeclimber

Trad climber
Nothing creative to say
  Oct 14, 2014 - 09:01am PT
well appreciated
Brokedownclimber

Trad climber
Douglas, WY
  Oct 14, 2014 - 09:07am PT
In Wyoming we call your type of hunting "B & B" hunting...Boots and Binoculars. In an earlier part of my life I did it that way. I no longer hunt, but hold nothing against ethical hunters.
rick sumner

Trad climber
reno, nevada/ wasilla alaska
  Oct 14, 2014 - 09:18am PT
Great story, well written JRIG. Makes me want to get out there.
Reilly

Mountain climber
The Other Monrovia- CA
  Oct 14, 2014 - 09:52am PT
I hope the "Deeth road" wasn't a typo. Good stuff. I miss having a freezer full of moose in Alaska.
But I don't miss "The work nobody likes.". Especially packing a hind quarter out through some bog.
clinker

Trad climber
Santa Cruz, California
  Oct 14, 2014 - 10:57am PT
Killer TR.
Bruce Morris

Trad climber
Soulsbyville, California
  Oct 14, 2014 - 10:59am PT
Elko! Gambling and ho'ing! Ya hoo!
rwedgee

Ice climber
CA
  Oct 14, 2014 - 11:16am PT
Excellent !!
JEleazarian

Trad climber
Fresno CA
  Oct 14, 2014 - 11:44am PT
Beautiful pictures and writing. Thanks.

John
jonnyrig

climber
Author's Reply  Oct 14, 2014 - 01:20pm PT
Thank you all. Deeth is about 30 miles east of Elko. I've seen the guys who don't even bother getting out of their truck before shooting, and have been one of them, learned from my grandfather who was a road hunter and a poacher. These days I do things right, by the book, and as ethically as I can.
Sredni Vashtar

Social climber
California
  Oct 14, 2014 - 04:41pm PT
Road hunting depresses me.

like you did, go earn your animal and be in its environment.
Great TR, thanks
perswig

climber
  Oct 14, 2014 - 04:47pm PT
Like the 'soft' look of your pics.
Congrats on the hunt.

Dale
Guernica

climber
dark places
  Oct 14, 2014 - 05:33pm PT
Great job man! Bowhunting has provided me with some of the richest and deepest experiences of my life... haven't done the rifle thing but I respect any ethical hunter.

Now to turn that hide into braintan! That's the only way to fly:


jonnyrig

climber
Author's Reply  Oct 14, 2014 - 07:29pm PT
yup. Never saw so many hunters and so few animals. Took the first legal shot. It's all about the freezer. Antlers are just a bonus. My partners did not fill their tags.
bluering

Trad climber
Santa Clara, CA
  Oct 14, 2014 - 08:09pm PT
Nice job!
jonnyrig

climber
Author's Reply  Oct 15, 2014 - 11:33am PT
I'll add an on-topic comment and a cautionary note here, just because.

I wanted to climb. I really did. The massive volcanic choss piles beckon from their lofty heights. Indeed, even on the rotten mounds, I kept inching the binoculars from the fields below scanning for lines that might take pro. Alas, the old boys with me were far too sore to think about donning a pair of Boreals and thrashing up an ant hill. At one point, I could see two distinct ridge lines, probably at least ten miles away, where the rock looked to be at least two hundred feet high and a mile long. Similar to Iron Butte, if I had to guess.

Anyway, coming home tired, sore, and exhausted from the long days and cold nights I did a stupid thing...
Clipping along the dirt road at a steady 40mph, I popped up on a little rise where the road made a sharp turn left, and I didn't.

I tried, really I did. Cut the wheel, hit the brakes, and start into a sideways skid in a brief attempt to navigate the corner. Realizing there was no way, and not wanting to go over sideways, I let the brake off and steered it straight just in time to launch over a four foot ledge, down a slope with basketball size rocks. Got it back on the road and did the undercarriage inspection to find a thoroughly crushed steering stabilizer and a rubber air dam torn loose. Incredibly lucky. The next corner had probably a twenty foot drop and a forty degree slope with five foot boulders. Pulled the stabilizer and continued on, albeit a bit slower and more conscientious. My passenger said not one single word. Oops.
Watch yourself when you get fatigued.
sandstone conglomerate

climber
sharon conglomerate central
  Oct 15, 2014 - 06:36pm PT
Damn, some of my best memories were deer hunting with the old man in West Virginia during Thanksgiving week. It didn't really matter if I was successful or not. Just being in the mountains at sunrise with all that stillness and cold was enough. Spruce Knob was always a sight, especially when it was touched with snow and frost.
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