Counting Coup with Mule Deer
I also recognize and respect the importance of conservation efforts for our wild animals and wild places and the close connection to hunting and fishing.If we want future generations to experience the wonder and adventure of the outdoors, and gain the countless benefits, we must continue to make wildlife conservation today’s priority to ensure continued opportunity.
- Counting Coup with Mule Deer - July 10, 2026
- The Little Dangers - September 10, 2025
- 6 Tips for Recovering Injured Animals - February 8, 2024
Last October, I found myself surprised by a uniquely fulfilling experience of “almost” filling my Idaho deer tag. While that sounds preposterous to many, let me elaborate.
The Plains Indians had a custom known as “counting coup”. It was a custom where warriors would prove bravery, skill, and dominance in battle by touching a living, armed enemy with their bare hand, bow, or lance. This was considered a high form of military honor, and far more courageous than striking from a distance or killing an enemy. Successful acts were reported to elders, recorded, and garnered prestige for the warrior. I found myself in a similar situation while mule deer hunting last Fall.
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I had time to spare last hunting season, having taken a nice 6×6 bull elk on the second evening of a two-week hunt. I returned home early, unpacked, and after ensuring the elk was properly taken care of, I decided to explore new ground within an hour of my house with my deer tag. There were a couple of large tracts of public land that I had always wanted to inspect closer. Since they were close to my house, I planned a few morning and evening hunts around the family schedule during the last week of the deer season.
After e-scouting to get a lay of the land, I headed out early one morning, parked at the trailhead and began hiking in at first light. While the two-tracks permitted OHV use, I decided to leave the quad at home and take a quieter approach for my first time on the ground. I hiked in a mile to the top of a nob that overlooked the country for several miles in each direction. It was plains country, separated by several deep draws that contained running creeks and trees. At the far end was a butte that rose nearly 3,000 feet above the trailhead elevation. I spotted a few UTV’s 2-3 miles ahead of me, cruising near the base of the butte. I spent the morning observing the patterns and behaviors of other hunters, and suspected that most game had been pushed higher during the prior week of the season. The ones that interested me the most were those that left the morning hunt by driving back to the trailhead and taking the main dirt road back towards town. I suspected they were locals and had hunted this area before.
The next evening, I loaded up the quad and headed to the trailhead again. I rode about 4 miles in, crossing several creeks and opening/closing a few cattle gates, parked the vehicle and hiked up the butte another ½ mile to a nice glassing spot. With the last afternoon sun angling on the side of the butte, it only took a few minutes for me to spot the first mule deer. It was a doe near an outcropping of brush 1,300 yards away and slightly higher than my elevation. She stood quartering away, ears forward, alert, beaming in the late day’s sun. With a couple of hours of shooting light left, I decided to hike closer to get a better look with the hope of finding a bedded buck nearby. I had to hike down and up a deep ravine and use the landscape to conceal my approach.
About a ½ hour later, I found myself 900 yards away and tucked in behind some boulders to watch the area before deciding to pursue further. I settled in and watched several deer filter out of the brush patch over the next 45 minutes. Several does and fawns appeared as well a nice 3×3 buck. They came out of their day’s cover to graze as the sun faded to the West. I decided to work my way closer, moving up and using several large boulders and slight variations in topography for cover. With the sun setting behind me, I had worked to just under 600 yards of the bedded buck and rested my rifle on the top of my pack, which was placed on top of a large boulder. Conditions were perfect and my 300 Weatherby had previously connected at greater distances. With a round in the chamber, the crosshairs on the buck, a feeling of gratitude and hesitation washed over me. Hold on…I already had an elk in the freezer. Did I need this deer? I was alone, over a mile from my quad, and another 4 from my truck, and nightfall is here.
Pulling that trigger meant one of many likely possibilities:
1) I miss and spook the herd;
2) I wound the animal and would be hard pressed to track and find it in unfamiliar country at night, potentially wasting it; and
3) The shot finds its mark and the animal drops – resulting in a long, lonely night on the side of the butte quartering and packing the buck miles from anywhere.
I decided that buck would live to see another sunrise. With a slight grin, I unloaded the chamber and quietly crept down the hill. As I reached the two-track, I looked back to
see that the herd had moved slightly towards my previous position and was unaware of my earlier presence. I hiked just under a mile back to my quad and then rode 4 miles back to the trailhead in the dark. The ride took about 30 minutes, and I was elated the entire time, as if I had the buck loaded on the back. When I returned to the trailhead, my truck was the only one left. Night had fallen, the air was cool in late October, and the mist and dust in the air were streaming through my headlamp as I loaded the quad.
Playing back the hunt in my mind on the ride home, I combined the intelligence of e-scouting and observing the locals the prior day with the on the ground efforts of hiking, glassing, and stalking. I even got to enjoy using my gear and running my quad for several miles. I didn’t plan the ending to this hunt and found myself surprisingly content and intrigued with the experience. I had done everything but pull the trigger. It was one of the most deeply fulfilling hunts I’ve had, and I didn’t harvest the animal. How was this possible? While unexpected, it taught me the value of the experience, slowing down to enjoy the moment, and easing up on the drive to fill the tag. The experience, connection with nature and thrill of the hunt are equally, if not more important than harvesting the animal…or perhaps I’m just getting old.
