January 11, 2001 is a day that will be engraved in my memory forever. With an hour left before first light, I was out of my bed anxious to be in the woods, especially after seeing the big boy the prior day.

I first saw this monster buck during my third day of the August 2000 hunt when I decided to hunt the mesquite and ocotillo filled rolling hills close to my home in Nogales, Arizona. The temperature was getting rather warm and I called it a day around noon. I continued down a trail heading back to my truck and I entered a small draw. Out of nowhere jumped the most magnificent animal I had ever seen in my life. The buck had been bedded down underneath a mesquite tree only a few yards from the trail I was on. As he disappeared over the next ridge I knew I was hooked, and would hunt the area harder for the next two-and-a-half weeks.

Not seeing the animal again during the August hunt, I wondered if a lucky rifle hunter would harvest the monster buck during the October or November hunt. I scouted the area almost every weekend anxiously waiting for the last bow season of the year which runs from December 16 - 31. A week before the hunt started, I finally saw the monster buck feeding in a small clearing surround by a thicket of mesquite trees. A shot of adrenaline and sense of relief raced through my body. The monster buck was still alive.

I hunted the area hard before I caught some more movement about 40 yards above the bottom of the canyon. It was a doe, and right above it was the big buck. He was bedded down next to the barrel cactus and he reminded me of a king sitting on his thrown, looking over his kingdom. My heart pounded uncontrollably as it always did when I saw the monster buck.

While planning my stalk I heard some noise above me on the ridge about 40 yards away. It was my good friend Pete Mendoza. I waved to get his attention and signaled him to join me. I kept a close eye on the buck making sure he didn't move and disappear as deer sometimes do. When Pete got to my position, I instructed him where to see the giant buck. Jokingly, I told him to have his camera ready because tomorrow this buck was going to be mine. We both laughed and headed to our trucks. I couldn't imagine what the next day would bring.

The next morning after a quick breakfast, I jumped in my truck and headed out. The weather was overcast and temperature in the 30s, which is normal for the January hunts in Arizona. I arrived where I last saw the deer the prior day about 15 minutes before the sun came up. After about 10 minutes of glassing I could see movement of deer all over the place. Three does were down in the valley, and out of the thicket came a nice 3x3. I would have taken him if I hadn't seen the big buck the previous day, but I held off because I knew the big buck was around.

About 7:15 in the morning, I decided to go over the next ridge because I knew there was another valley with a lot of rolling hills. I went up the same ridge and was glassing across on the southern slope when I saw three does. A fourth doe came out from the mesquite trees, and right behind it was the big buck. I started shaking. By the time I got control of myself, he was only about 150 yards away on the other side of the hill. I started my game plan and watched to see what he would do. He was chasing does on the side of the hill and was especially interested in one of them. Suddenly one of the does broke off and went over the ridge. I went all the way around and followed them until I got to the other side of the canyon. I didn't see where the other does had gone. By this time they had already disappeared over the ridge.

It took me about an hour to go down the canyon and up to where they had gone through. When I made it to the top where they had crossed, I started glassing. After about 15 minutes of glassing every tree and every thicket I spotted them down in a small valley about 200 yards away. The valley was flat with two small canyons running down the east and west sides. I waited and watched them running around for about one and-a-half hours. Finally, at about 11:30 a.m. the buck bedded down about 150 yards away and I started my stalk.

With the wind at my face, everything was just right. I entered down a small canyon that I thought would take me within 40 yards of the buck, which is about my max shooting distance. I made it all the way down the canyon, but it brought me up in front of him still at 80 yards. The wind was still in my face and the sun was just over my head.

I decided to follow a small creek that would hook up with another canyon right behind the buck. With the wind right I knew I had a chance. I took off my shoes and daypack and left them there and slowly made my way around the hill. It must have taken me about an hour to go through the creek and up the canyon to three mesquite trees where he was bedded. I knew he was just off to the right of the tallest one, when I came up to where I thought he was, he wasn't there!

I grabbed my binoculars and started searching all the mesquite trees around to see if there was any sign of him. Sure enough, he was only 10 yards in front of me. He simply moved from one mesquite tree to another because it was shadier.

By this time my knees were shaking, my heart was pounding and I couldn't control myself. I had to get down on one knee because I thought my heart was going to come out of my chest. I quietly walked around so I could see him better. From far away I knew he was big, but at 15 yards he was humongous. Inching forward up a little hill I stepped on a small rock that slid down a bigger rock. I ducked down as soon as I heard the noise and from the grass I could see just the tip of his antlers.