"My Nevada Trophy"

Beverlee's Nevada buck is 29-3/4 inches wide.

My dad and I had been going hunting on the weekends for about three weeks. This was my fourth year hunting, as I am 17 years old. My twin sister, Kimberlee stayed at home, she does not like hunting. She can't believe that I like to hunt, being a girl and all...

We woke up at the camp at about 4:00 a.m. on Saturday morning and hiked about a half-mile up a ridge as the sun began illuminating the horizon in the east. We slowly checked out the opposite hillside as we moved along the ridgeline. Then, we spotted a buck in the mahogany below us. It was too far to chance a shot, so dad went down the canyon and attempted to push the buck closer to me. I walked down the ridge a bit and positioned myself beneath some trees where I could see the entire basin below.

I patiently waited for the deer to step out from the thick foliage. I held my binoculars steady, looking across the canyon to the ridge on the other side. Suddenly, I heard a gunshot to the south in the next canyon! I was sure that whoever was over there must have taken the buck I was hoping for.
I heard two more shots and was hoping that those shots would spook some deer toward me. I got into a comfortable crouch, and waited silently.

What seemed like hours was probably only fifteen minutes, and still nothing had come by. I needed to stretch, so I slowly stood up and glanced to the top of the ridge above me. I took a few seconds to think about how far I was from the top, then considered hiking over to see what might be on the other side. Then, I turned and looked back down toward the basin where I saw what looked like two sticks hopping up over the saddle of a small ridge just to the south of me. I froze and studied those "sticks". It was a big buck, running right toward me!
He was slightly above me on the hill, so I scrambled to get up the hillside and position for a shot.

There were many trees and a lot of tall buck brush in my path, so I decided to just stand up and shoot. It was risky, but it was my only choice!
I rose tall, took a deep breath and aimed steady at the approaching buck. I flipped the safety off and squeezed the trigger on my trusty .243.

Beverlee's dad was quite excited to see just how big her trophy was.

The buck jumped and shook his head, then began walking very slowly. I was only 75 yards away at that point, but he didn't know where. He walked into the trees above me, as I stood frozen and silent. When he stepped out of the trees, I stood firm and fired again, but he kept walking and began to head over the hill and would soon be out of sight.
I quickly chambered another round and fired one last shot as he disappeared over the ridge.

I soon heard my dad walking up the ridge behind me. When dad caught up to me I excitedly told him the whole story, then we walked up to look for any sign of blood.
We found a few drops in the snow and began tracking the animal. We followed the blood through the pines, up over another ridge, and down the other side. All the way down the hill, my dad was saying that I shouldn't have shot this buck, because it was too far to pack out of the canyon.

It seemed like forever, but finally we caught up with the big buck, standing in the trees. When dad saw the buck, his eyes grew huge and his jaw about dropped! Now, he excitedly whispered that it was great that I had shot it. And, after another carefully placed shot, he was mine.
We both became very excited as we walked up to the big, 29-3/4 inch 4x4. The whole way home, I would catch myself smiling, then look over at dad and see his smile too!

Written by Beverlee Muir