As expected, the mountains in Idaho were as steep as they were beautiful. The weather was fickle and the hunting was tough, but we persevered in search of a mature mule deer buck. We covered over 60 miles, and in seven days, we saw a big cinnamon bear, a wolf, a bunch of grouse, a whole mess of does, and 7 bucks. The last morning the biggest buck of the trip gave us the slip, and with about a half hour left, we found a small forked horn to put my tag on.
I went to Idaho with no expectations and was rewarded with a week in some of the prettiest country I’d ever seen. The freezer is piled high with fresh hand wrapped packages of meat, and I strengthened a friendship in a way that only happens when you share a hunting camp. This won’t be my last trip to Idaho.