As I crawled along the backside of the ridge I felt the sharp sting of a cactus needle penetrate my right knee. Somehow I didn't even mind. It was the morning of the September 1st and for the first time since the end of last season - I was hunting again.

My guide, Chris, signaled that the large pronghorn we had spotted from 700 yards away, was continuing to feed down the draw on the opposite side of the ridge. I stepped up the pace a little and peeked over the ridge. He was going too fast and was just out of bow range. I slid back down the ridge and continued on, hoping to catch up to the buck. Unfortunately, the bruiser crossed the ridge 103 yards in front of me and continued on his way. He would have been a nice Pope and Young buck - but that's bowhunting.

Chris and I made our way back up to the top of another ridge and resumed our glassing activities. I was hunting with Big Buck Outfitters out of Sheridan, Wyoming for a whitetail with pronghorn being a kind of afterthought. My dad had made the trip and while he was not hunting, it was the first father/son trip we had made together since I took a ten pointer with him on a friends property in New York - way back when I was only sixteen. That was my first day of deer hunting and sharing it with Dad made it one of the happiest days of my life. Now almost 15 years later, his presence brought more than a smile to my face. This was going to be a special trip no matter what kind of animals I saw or harvested.

After glassing for about half an hour we saw some nice whitetails leaving their alfalfa food plots over a mile away as they headed back up the draws and into their bedding areas in the pines. But this morning I was stalking pronghorns. I had the desire to take one with the bow via stalking and not over a water hole. It's just something I always wanted to do. After we lost sight of the whitetails, Chris spotted a pair of nice pronghorn bucks bedded in a bowl about a mile to our east. After due consideration, it was time to pack up and try the second stalk of the day.

A mile may not seem too far, but the hills definitely seemed bigger the closer we got to them, and even bigger when we headed up one side and down the other on the way to our quarry. To get the wind in our favor we circled around the backside of the area where the pronghorns were located and started our creeping approach. Despite our efforts which found us well concealed only 50 yards from where they were bedded, the bucks had already gotten out of their beds and were grazing slowly down the hillside at about 200 yards with nothing between us and them for concealment. We decided to try a different route and see if we could intercept them at a fence crossing. The plan was a good one, but good plans don't always work as the bucks made a turn and crossed out of bow range.

Over the next day and a half, Chris and I saw dozens and dozens of the fast-footed animals, but failed to get into bow range by stalking. Fifty mile per hour winds had also shut the door on a few great opportunities that would have normally wound up with the harvesting of a "lope". I decided to turn my attention to the main focus of my hunt which was whitetails - and leave the antelope alone for a couple of days.

As we all know, hot weather it generally not a good thing when it comes to bowhunting whitetails. And it was hot - really hot. Out of the four hunters in camp, three had already tagged nice whitetails. The first to be taken was a beautiful 148" ten-pointer in velvet. The next two were also nice Pope & Young bucks.

Brian Beisher's Big Buck Outfitters started taking bowhunters on whitetail hunts a few years back, and since I have known them, every bowhunter seeking a whitetail has taken a buck - each and every one grossing above Pope and Young minimums. This is an incredible record and as I climbed high into my treestand for the first time on this hunt, I could help but think, "I hope I don't break Brian's streak!"

The stand was fastened high in an Aspen tree over looking brush and Aspen-covered draw. It was the only real cover for quite a ways and boy was it thick. I decided to get into the stand early in the afternoon long before primetime at dusk. To my surprise I saw deer within an hour of getting into the stand. Does with fawns came filtering down the path weaving through the thick underbrush followed by a 120 class 8-pointer. He was a nice buck but certainly not mature and would have probably broken Brian's Pope and Young streak. I stood up to intercept the deer as they passed within 30 yards. The path they took led them through a shooting lane behind and to the right of my stand. I stood facing the tree as the buck stepped into view perfectly broadside. I made the tough decision to pass.

Just as I let my guard down I saw a much bigger rack filter through the underbrush just behind the 8 pointer. This was definitely a shooter. I readied my bow and made sure the Satellite Titan-tipped Easton A/C/C was placed snuggly on the arrow rest. The bucks head emerged from behind the bushes. He had solid 12-inch G-2's and great main beams. I quickly guessed him to be a 140-class 8-point before visually concentrating on picking a spot behind his shoulder. The buck stepped out a little more, but quartered towards me. He stood there for what seemed like ages before continuing his march down the draw, never giving me a shot. My heart sank to see him walk away, but I comforted myself in knowing I had not taken an irresponsible shot.

The next morning I sat a different stand and had four bucks within bow range, however none were shooters. That afternoon I decided to head back to the Aspen. I saw deer I recognized from the day before, but the big buck eluded me.

The second morning of bowhunting whitetails went much the same as the day before with the weather and wind not cooperating with me in the slightest way. Everything would change that afternoon as Brian's guides (who perpetually scout and watch deer patterns) decided to set a new stand on a ranch about a half hour away. They and the rancher had seen a few nice bucks coming from their bedding areas and coming out under a big willow tree to feed in an alfalfa field which ran along side a small creek bottom.

My guide Mike and I headed out early that afternoon with tree stands and steps in hand to set the new stand. By 4 pm we were finished and I found myself quite high up in a large willow. Hopefully the deer would follow the patterns they had been faithful to in the past few days. There we sat in thin shirts, sweating and cursing the heat in quiet whispers.

Mike manned the video camera as the first deer, a few does, wondered up the creek bottom and into the alfalfa not 25 yards from us. The wind, which had been our friend all afternoon, decided to swirl and does ran off. Our live decoys had left, and I looked up only to see Mike in his stand tilt his head back against the tree in disgust.

With no deer around, I decided to open a book, being careful to not turn the pages too quickly. Mike chuckled a little under his camo mask. Hey - I was on vacation and trying to relax a little. The reading passed the time until just before dark when Mike and I both heard splashing footsteps in the stream just in front of us. Within a minute or two a few does appeared under the stand. The book went back into my backpack.

Soon I saw antlers headed in our direction. It was a smaller buck - which was soon followed by a nice buck freshly out of velvet. We both guessed the latter buck to score in the 130-135 range. He also had a really interesting split brow tine on his left side. He would do just fine... if he would only give me a shot.

The big buck closed the gap quickly and came to a stop at about 20 yards and fed. Luckily he turned completely broadside and gave me the perfect shot opportunity with just a few minutes to go until dark. My stomach tingled with excitement as slowly drew my trusty Hoyt Tenacity II. At the steep angle, I held my 20-yard pin low behind the bucks left shoulder and started to apply tension to the Carter release, hoping the buck wouldn't start to walk away as I attempted to not rush the shot.

The 3-39 A/C/C left the bow fast and true and the shot sounded good. The buck ran off into the alfalfa field only to stop and look behind him after running only 40 yards. After a few short seconds we watched as the buck leaned slowly to the right and then left, dropping where he stood without so much as a kick. I was elated to have made a quick, clean kill on such a fine and noble animal.

Mike and I got down out of the stand, trying not to rush and hurt ourselves in the process. We were both quite excited, especially when we walked up to the buck and admired his 18 inch spread and unique split brow tine. I just couldn't wait to get this buck back to the cabin and show Dad!

We pulled the suburban into the driveway and were met by Brian and Dad. Cheering, handshakes and hugs were in order and Mike and I had great fun re-living the story with everyone else.

For the rest of the trip I made a great, tactical hunting decision - I left the antelope alone and decided to go with Dad to take car tours of the beautiful surroundings. Dad had already been to the local rodeo, historic sites, and polo grounds while I hunted. He and I got in the rented Grand Prix and explored the Big Horns and some of the local towns. The people were extremely friendly everywhere we went and the scenery was, to say the least, spectacular. The video camera certainly got a workout.

As we left camp on the last day, I was disappointed to leave. Dad and I had a great time together away from home and our busy schedules which tend to cut conversations short or out completely. We found out new things about each other - and became quite a bit closer. It had become a trip I will never forget, and I am sure I will think about the great time we had every time I look up at that beautiful buck up on the wall!