Last issue I told the story of how I became a part of the 30-inch club. It was now my goal to move up the ranks and into the coveted and rare 40-inch club. I had come close a time or two. Then one day, again some years ago, a good friend and I were hunting in a spot where a big buck had occasionally passed through. We had walked most of the morning just to get into the area and had seen little sign of any deer. Little did we know that things were about to change. As I rounded a hillside, a nice buck stood feeding on bitter bush way across the canyon. We quickly sat down to scope the side hill. I saw another deer walk into some trees. As we sat there glassing, the deer were moving and feeding. All of a sudden, a big buck walked out, skylined, stopped and looked back. Wow! Wow! Wow! A big, big, buck! I knew he was pushing 40 inches. Points. Mass. Everything!

As he walked over the hill we looked at each other and said, "Whoa!" For the next 15 minutes or so, we just watched as the other little bucks worked their way over the hill. Then the plan started. I remember the wind was blowing south to north so we circled and came in on the wind. As we crawled on our hands and knees to the top of the ridge, I remember seeing a big sagebrush flat 200 yards across with lots of PJs on the other side. There were no deer to be seen.

It's one thing to get past one set of eyes, ears and nose, but quite another when you have three or four deer together. The old big buck was using all eyes, ears and noses to keep him out of harm's way. This was a time for patience. We glassed and glassed and I finally picked out part of a deer lying down five feet or so back in the PJs. As I looked over the land layout, I thought one of us should go around and get on top of the hill behind them and be where the trees funneled in. The other would try to circle and cut them off putting them into a pinch. Hopefully, one of us would get a shot. My friend said he wanted the first go at them, so I said, "Give me 30 minutes to get up the hill and around there." As we parted, we smiled at each other as if to say, "It doesn't get any better than this! Let's get it on!"

It's times like this that a man never forgets. It's times like this that all hunters live for. It's times like this, whether you come out a winner in getting old Mr. Big or not, that you're still a winner all the way, just because you were there, had the chance, and felt the rush.

As I got into my spot where I thought they would come through I had many thoughts. "Am I in the right spot? Should I go over there? Up there? Down there? What if...?"  In the world of hunting, no decision, is always the wrong decision. If you're in the best spot to see and cover most of the land layout, then don't move.

I sat there looking over every little thing, all 110 percent of my body giving me its all. The minutes seemed so long. "Come on, come on, come on up. Come my way. Just give me one chance. That's all I ask!"   Then...There! Movement at the edge of the sagebrush flat. It's a doe and a fawn. As I glassed at 500 yards, she turned and ran straight away from me. Not good! There! Now I can see two of the little bucks. No, no, no! They are going straight away from me too, right across the sagebrush flat
where I once had been.

It's in these split seconds that a hunter has to make decisions that will determine whether he will succeed or fail. Should I stay where I'm at, try a long shot and hope I'm lucky? Or run like crazy and hope to get close enough for a good shot.

I ran like crazy down the hill and out came old Mr. Big. Yep, he had followed the little bucks. I don't know how long it took me to cover the ground that I did, but it had to be a record of some sort. As I came to the far edge of the flat, my lungs burning, sweat running in my eyes, every nerve at 110 percent, there he was running at 300 yards.

I remember shooting three times and then he was gone out of sight. I ran to where I last saw him, loading my gun as I ran. I came to the edge of another sagebrush flat, and standing just on the other side was one of the little bucks looking back at me. To me this was a good sign indeed. I knew he was waiting for Mr. Big, somewhere between him and myself. As I stood there, trying to catch my breath and settle my nerves, the little buck left.

The tracks told me that the big buck was somewhere in the sagebrush flat. I hated to give up my high ground, but I did. I zigzagged across the flat to the other side. It was another all time high. Nothing! No big buck to be found. So I went up 50 yards and started back on a zigzag. Halfway across, in the brush, was a huge deer horn. Slowly now I rounded the big sagebrush. There before me was truly one of the world's most awesome deer to have ever walked the earth! As I knelt down and lifted his head, I had to catch my breath. He was even bigger than I had thought.

Just then I heard my friend call my name. "Over here!" "Did you get him?" "Yeah!" "All Right!" As he walked up to the buck, he too could not believe his eyes. With high fives and a high for both of us for hours to come, the buck of a lifetime had come my way. I did everything right because I had killed him.

The buck has a 40-inch spread, 18-inch tines, and 9 points on both sides with a 234 typical main frame before deductions: 200 typical; 262 non-typical. It makes both B&C books. He has been in a lot of deer shows all over and still doesn't have to take a back seat to any buck that has ever been killed. I have killed two more bucks that made the book, but then all of them have made my book and that's "the best book of
all"!

-----> If you missed it, click here to read part 1

-----> Click Here to see Dennis Wintch's 'Bigfoot Buck' in the Gallery