Terry’s protocol is to be at road’s end at daybreak – and hunt to points beyond.  Perhaps from years of duck hunting over decoys – my protocol is to get where you want to be, before daybreak.  So when I said I wanted to be in place, in a covert canyon some one and a half miles in, before daybreak – Terry volunteered to meet me in there `as the morning progressed’ – he would come in from on top with Amy and Justin.

          So Candace and I left Moscow about 4:30 am.  The moon had set by the time we left the vehicle at the Park, so we navigated by starlight and, at least for a while, by the light from the trailer park upstream.  Once our eyes adjusted to the gentle glow of the stars, we could do fine – except, as I was reminded, twice, for fences … the second fence (the first one on the climb) coming unexpectedly soon, and cutting my chin.  I was familiar with the route – it was the Power Climb, which I had taken my kids on (and some friends), … some of these adventures being even at night.  Candace had not been on the climb for over a year – but she didn’t complain – I just programmed in that her pace is a bit slower.  Below Half-way fence in the starlight I made out three or more muleys crossing west toward the draw we would hunt.  It was a circumstance repeated time and again – our scent being carried up north by a bit east, coming up upon deer bedded just east of the PC route - … the deer being spooked and actually coming right back across the route – sometimes quite close, other times several hundred yards up.  It was the ravine I supposed they were headed that we would hunt at first light.  We climbed another hundred vertical feet or so above Half-way fence, and then broke off to the west.  It was starting to get light in the sky.  We would be okay – but couldn’t delay. 

         By the time we came up on the ravine – about 2/3 the way down from to top, as planned, it was light enough to effectively glass.  Nothing.  I `sliced the pie’ – as Terry would describe it – so as not to spook deer that would see me before I would see them.  We got down near some loner red-orange trees and waited.  I set my pack in a place where Candace could use it for a rest if deer came across … where I thought they would.  Once settled, and convinced we were alone in the draw, except perhaps for some deer in the brush straight down, I turned on the radio.  Terry and Amy were chattering their positions back to one another up above.  They had made good time coming down from Ade’s.  I tried to break in with the Icom, but didn’t have much success; the Cobra worked better.  They had seen does only, and were working our way, at about our level, or a bit above.  I said we’d be standing by as they came around. 

            Three deer appeared at the very top of the draw about 1000 yards up, spooked.  Candace could see them.  Then they started coming straight down the draw.  Perhaps they would close the distance.  I told Candace to get them in her sights, and practice putting the crosshairs on them.  If she could get a good rest, and if perhaps they closed the distance to 300 yards, I’d let her take a shot.  All we could do was wait.   “Dad, there’s one right there.”  A doe had come into the draw only about 50 yards away, nearly right in her line of sights on the other deer.  I told her to wait as I made sure it was legal (antlerless or 3 pt. min.).  When I had, I told her to take the shot.  She lined up, when she was ready took off the safety, and didn’t shoot.  The deer was being very gracious, giving her a lot of time to take a broadside shot.  She couldn’t get the rifle into her shoulder – and finger on the trigger – at the same time.  She did it the day before – but that was level ground.  This was a very steep hillside we were on – and she was shooting somewhat up hill. 

         The deer continued to be very gracious, as we passed the gun back and forth, adjusted the pack for a rest, even traded positions.  The face paint paid off – she could see us – but evidently thought we were a couple porcupines, or something, frolicking in the early morning seclusion of the draw.  When it seemed Candace was more ready, the deer turned rear end to us.  Candace’s patience was commendable.  Then it gave us a broadside shot again, but partially obscured by a little bit of terrain.  By now the deer had move to 65 yards or so.  It was moving away.  She might lose the op.  I pressured her a bit.  She was still having trouble getting the gun in her shoulder.  I didn’t tell her this – but I hoped by a bit of pressure on my part she’d take the shot anyway … she’d get banged up a bit – but it would all pass in the excitement. 

            Finally she took the shot.  The deer collapsed. I took the gun as the deer disappeared in the terrain; Candace stood up, crying, as the scope had banged her in the forehead.  She was facing me – crying, complaining, partly due to the pain of being hit on the head, and partly due to little sleep and a tiring climb, and also she was cold … as behind her the deer began tumbling down the hill.  `Why was she crying? … What’s the big deal? … She got the deer!’.  But she didn’t know she did – caught up as she was in the present pain and inconvenience.  Finally I interrupted – “Candace, stop crying! – YOU GOT THE DEER!”.  Then, without taking a breath, without even a change in tune – her crying turned seamlessly to laughter.  The pain forever gone. 

            “Candace has an animal down” … I reported over the radio.  Terry asked us to confirm, then Amy congratulated Candace.  After things settled a bit – and I got the go ahead that our movement wouldn’t mess up their approach and hunt, and we moved in on our deer.  The three deer we were watching earlier were still up above us in the draw.  We went over to where the deer was standing when Candace shot – and found a `roll-path’ and blood – but not as much blood as I would have expected.  But we followed the path down – and there was her deer. 

        She had shot it in the head.  Evidently as the gun wasn’t secured by her shoulder, it probably elevated a bit in recoil, sending the bullet, instead from heading toward the deer’s front shoulder – where she had aimed - to its head.  No wonder it fell like a sack of bricks … (way different response than when a deer is hit by an arrow). 

            Terry came down as I was gutting the animal out.  We decided he would bone it out while I went back for a pack.  I said that I could be back in an hour – in time to get the deer out and Candace to a dance rehearsal she was to attend.   But after I got started, I realized I had miscalculated.  I could get back in an hour if I only had to go to the bottom of the Power Climb – but that was not the road - I had to also get back to the Park.  So I hurried.  Instead of going down the PC, I short cut down into the draw to the east.  I jumped a buck – probably coming from the same place there deer were we jumped by star light.  I radioed Amy … but could only get broken communication.  They were on to another buck – so I kept going. 

           At the park I shed my day pack and grabbed the backpack.  And headed back up.  Taking the short cut, with a small variation, back up.  I couldn’t ever recall pushing myself the way I was now doing.  I hadn’t had exercise anywhere close in over a month.  And now I was doing it having eaten a pathetically small breakfast – and I could feel it.  But I pushed on.  From below Half-way fence I heard a shot – sounded like from our draw.  Perhaps another buck had come into the draw – and Amy had got it.  I crossed Half-way fence, climbed, and broke off to the west.  I came across another hunter, looking for a deer he had shot.  I linked up with him, and looked for it with him for a while – but finally had to press on.  I said I’d keep an eye out for a blood trail on the way back.  But I went just a few feet – and better than a blood trail – found his deer crumpled up on the hillside.  I called him over ... it was a nice buck – and I kept going.

            I made it back to Candace in 75 minutes … a three-and-a-half or four mile round trip, with 1000 vertical ft each way.  (And found a guy’s deer besides.)  On the trip I saw another nice buck.  The sweat coming off my head had condensed (mystified) on the few remaining hairs on my head.  It freaked Candace out at first – until she realized what it was.  Terry had finished with my deer and headed back up to help Amy – who was onto a buck.  I loaded the deer into my pack – and headed down.  The load was weighty – but fortunately I would be going down hill. 

            On the ride home, Candace was beaming – cute, almost to the point of being kind of sexy - with her streaks of camo paint, new hair cut – and the thrill of getting her first deer.  I was proud of her, and I was thrilled as well.