Reader-Submitted Story
A Year for the Books!
by Darcy Schlichenmayer of Olds, Alberta
The year 2023 will be a year for the books, and honestly, my best year to date. Not just because of the trophies but also because of the memories made achieving them.
In the summer I always take the kids out west to the mountains camping, riding horses and scouting areas. This year we decided to pack the horses into an area where my parents always took me when I was growing up. It’s only a three-hour ride but anyone with kids knows how much longer that takes or seems to take.
We set up our camp in my dad’s old hunting camp at the base of the mountain. From there we rode up to a mountain lake where my kids (Ava, age 7 and Ty, age 5) caught their first fish. I’m not sure who was more excited, them or me! It’s the same lake where as a young boy I caught my first fish with my dad.
I had made it my goal this year to hunt and harvest my deer with my kids. After a great mule deer buck harvest (a story for another time), the kids and I headed back into the mountains to hunt whitetail in the peak of the rut.
We arrived later than our friends did and while they were out on their evening hunt, we set up our tent and settled in. Now, I’m usually ready for a worse-case scenario but on this trip, I forgot fuel for my chainsaw. I thought we had enough for the night but would have to ration it. That first night was a bit chilly.
In the morning we warmed up in our friend’s tent, borrowed some fuel, and headed out in the truck. We were looking for deer but more importantly, a nice dead dry tree. After successfully harvesting a few trees, we made our way back to camp to show off our truck box full of trophy fire wood to the camp. We filled up our tent with wood and ate some lunch.
That evening we decided to jump into the side-by-side and check out some meadows and riverbanks unreachable by truck. The kids did well—I know they were cold but they kept it together and toughed it out... a proud Dad moment.
We found a good spot to sit for the night but after not seeing anything moving, we headed back to camp for a fire, hot chocolate and camp stories.
The next morning after the cold night of sitting, we decided to once again jump in the truck and venture up the old logging road. After running into truck after truck of other hunters watching the same cutblocks, we turned around back towards camp feeling defeated. But that is the best part of the rut, you just never know when a buck is gonna’ cross in front of you. Just as we passed a truck and turned a corner near a cutline, I heard Ava yell, “Deer!” A doe sprinted up the cutline and back into the trees. I knew there had to be a buck behind her.
I quickly pulled over, jumped out, and ran up the hill into the trees. Now, the trees were spread apart enough that I could see quite a ways. At about 250 yards, I saw antlers moving. I found a shooting lane (about a 2- to 3-inch gap) through the trees and took the shot! Not having much time or room for error, I wasn’t sure if I had pulled off the shot or if the buck had just disappeared. I turned to go back and get the kids from the truck when I saw movement again. I moved another 15 feet to my left, found a bigger lane (5- to 6-inch gap) and let him have another round. This time I saw him hit the ground.
I went back, got the kids, and told them that I thought I got the deer but needed their help to track him. Ava, being a little older and faster, was actually hard to keep up with. She ran up the mountain, found the buck, and screamed in whispers, “He’s a monster!”
At this time, I still didn’t know how big he really was. I knew he was a mature buck but really it didn’t matter—I was shooting any size deer with the kids.
After a short wait, Ty got up the hill to us. Ava and I were vibrating with excitement! Seeing us so amped got him instantly excited as well, “Dad! He’s huge! He’s the biggest buck!”
Of course, I had forgot my phone back at camp.
Just as I started to drag the buck down to the road, we saw one of our camp buddies driving down the road. I ran down the hill as graceful as a hippo on roller skates (how I managed to not fall and hurt myself is still a mystery), I got to the road just as they were driving by. They were moving slowly after seeing my truck and the footprints up the bank and into the trees. I yelled out, which scared the heck out of the driver—he actually thought he had run one of the kids over. After a short laugh, they climbed up the hill to the buck. They were taken away with the excitement as they snapped a picture of the kids and me with our huge grins.
They helped us load the buck into the truck as other hunters were driving by. They all had to stop to get a better look at the monster. Jealous to start, but it quickly turned to excitement as they saw the kids’ faces glowing with pride and heard them tell their story of the hunt.
We headed back to camp and caped him out. Both shots hit clean and were almost touching.
This trip and this deer will always hold a special place in my heart. Every time I look at the antlers, all I can hear is (in a whisper), “He’s a monster!”
For the previous Reader Story, click here.
