[tahunua001]

I dont have any good muley stories. I always missed those impossible 500 yard shots with my new shooter flinching in the montana bad lands and ever since moving to idaho I only hunt whitetail since the muleys are few and far between(and I prefer the taste of whitetail to mule).

my first year seriously hunting on my own hadn't turned up a whole lot. my best friend had managed to get himself a nice 200 pound buck opening weekend with his dads 30-30 at about 200 yards but he knew the area better than I did so he played guide the rest of the season.

the very last night of hunting season we had been hunting in a small canyon that was normally used as cattle pasture and it was crawling with deer but they were incredibly skiddish and had a lot of brush to run off into. about an hour from sundown I finally saw a doe uphill at about 275-300 yards walk out of the brush. I normally wont take shots at that range but being the last hour of the last night of hunting season and still had no kills to my name I was desperate. I dropped down in the mud and cow turds with my 243 that I inherited from my dad and took what my buddy describes as the longest time time he's ever seen someone line up a shot. I took the shot and she made about 2 steps towards cover when he front legs buckled and she slid downhill about 100 feet.

once I got up to her I felt kind of bad. she probable weighed 100 pounds dripping wet and after we gutted her out I probably could had tossed her over my shoulder with one arm(may be a slight exaggeration). field dressing showed that I had completely blown her heart into two pieces but that federal 100gr also shattered both front quarters. still I was pleased. I took a shot that was beyond my normal level of experience and took my first deer.

dragging her back to my truck my buddy couldn't resist the temptation to add insult to injury by saying that we could stuff my deer inside his and keep hunting haha