My obsession with Coues deer began at the young age of 5 when my father would take my brother and me hunting. My earliest hunting memories reflect on my brother and me counting who would fall the most as we would try to follow our father’s footsteps in the treacherous country that Coues deer call home. It wasn’t long before our dad purchased my brother and me our own set of binoculars and the competition changed to who could spot the first buck. Over time, I became addicted to the perseverance it took to hunt the elusive gray ghost, as Coues deer are often referred to. I will forever be grateful for the time I’ve been able to spend with family while hunting and the memories we’ve made in the mountains together.
In 2023, my dad and I drew our second choice Arizona late rifle Coues deer tags. It took us six long years for the coveted tags, and I had the goal of shooting a 110"+ buck. I knew I had my work cut out for me, but I had spent a lot of time over the last several years in the unit and knew my goal was obtainable.
After a typical restless night before any opening day, the alarm clock rang and the hunt was on. My father and I made our way to our glassing point together before first light with plans of my brother joining us on the hunt later in the morning. After a quick scan of the area with my binoculars, I realized the morning deer movement was slow. My brother met up with my dad and me later that morning where we glassed up several decent-sized bucks, but they
did not quite meet the mark of what we expected to fill our tags with.
Day two seemed to be repeat of day one with minimal deer movement in the morning and intense glassing throughout the day. I had glassed up a really nice buck that I field judged to be approximately 105". After watching this buck, my dad and I both decided to pass on him. We knew we would be able to turn him back up later in the hunt if needed.
The evening of day two, I glassed up a doe and a small buck 2,000+ yards away. Giving reference points to my dad and brother, they quickly picked the deer up in their binoculars. As we watched the deer, we caught the glimpse of a huge buck! He vanished three seconds later into some thick trees.
We stood there in disbelief. The buck appeared massive from over 2,000 yards away. We immediately knew we somehow needed to get a second look at this giant. We returned to camp after dark with the excitement of the big buck still lingering in our minds. Over dinner and drinks, we came up with a game plan to hopefully put us at better odds of laying eyes on the big buck. Our plan was to begin day three in an area that would give us a better look of the rolling hill we had last seen him on. That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about the buck and decided the only fitting name for him would be “El Jefe.”
Day three was on, and we were eager to get an early start. We worked our way up the mountainside with our headlamps guiding our way to our glassing point. Determined to find El Jefe, I kept my eyes glued to my binoculars. We saw a few bucks that were hard to pass, but we knew El Jefe was hiding somewhere in the thick trees.
After glassing for a few hours, I caught movement in my binoculars. It was the distinct flagging of a Coues deer’s erect whitetail waving back and forth as the buck was running up the hill. Flagging is often a sign that a deer is leaving an area due to suspected danger. As I watched the buck running up the hill, I immediately recognized him as El Jefe. Knowing I only had seconds to make a shot before he vanished, I quickly got behind my rifle. My crosshairs panned over El Jefe’s body, and I followed him as he was making his way towards the top of the hill. I knew he was further than the MOA I had pre-set in my scope when we first started glassing. As El Jefe ran up the hill, I did not have time to re-range and told my brother I needed to take my shot before El Jefe made it over the top of the hill. With my earplugs in, I failed to hear my brother give me an updated range of 580 yards. El Jefe separated himself from the other deer, and I knew this was my only chance to take my shot. He was now quartering away as he slowly walked up the hill flagging his tail.
Afraid that I wouldn’t see El Jefe again, I placed my crosshairs on his vitals. I slowly squeezed the trigger until the shot rang out and then watched El Jefe run over the hill through my scope. From my perspective, he appeared to have been hit, but I wasn’t certain of where. I had only seen him crest over the hill with an awkward gait. My brother called a clean miss, 10 inches below his rear quarter. My brother has been spotting me for years and I trusted what he had seen.
That night, I repeatedly beat myself up over what had happened. I was mentally checked out and so sick to my stomach that I didn’t even eat dinner. I tried to convince myself that I would relocate El Jefe. Knowing how much of a mental game hunting is, I had to find a way to get my mind straight and stay on course.
Day four came quickly, and we got to our glassing point. I walked away from my hunting partners. I needed some space to clear my mind and focus on finding El Jefe. Lunchtime came, and I met back up with my dad. As I was eating my half of a Mountain House meal, I was interrupted by my dad informing me he had spotted a buck. From the excitement in my dad’s voice, I knew it was a big buck. My dad doesn’t get excited for just any buck, either.
My dad quickly blurted out reference points on where the buck was. I asked if it was El Jefe, and he said that he didn’t think it was, but it was a nice buck nonetheless. I found the buck in my binoculars and noticed he was limping. I knew from my first glance that this buck was El Jefe. After watching him in my binoculars, I knew I had in fact hit him the day before by the way he was limping.
We watched as El Jefe bedded down at 430 yards. With tall grass in the area, I had no great shooting platform to shoot prone. I made the decision to shoot off my pack in a seated position. I knew I had to make this shot count. I placed my rifle on top of my pack, pushed my rifle down on my pack, and felt like I had a steady shooting platform. I dialed my scope and settled the crosshairs on his vitals. After checking the cant level on my scope, I slowly applied pressure to my trigger until the shot rang out. I quickly worked the bolt of my rifle to reload another round as I followed through on my target. As I was finding the buck in my crosshairs a second time, I could hear my brother call a center body hit. I noticed that El Jefe still had his head up. I immediately placed another round into El Jefe. My brother called a hit behind his front shoulder, and El Jefe jolted into a row of thick nearby trees. We could tell from my last hit that the deer was taking his final steps and stumbled out of view into the trees.
My dad, brother, and I began walking up to where we last saw El Jefe. My dad and brother were trying to decide whether the buck was El Jefe or not, but I knew with 100% certainty that it was. We inched closer to the thick row of trees that El Jefe ran into. My brother found him laying belly up about 80 yards away. I walked up to El Jefe and confirmed that he was expired. Flooded with emotions, I hugged my brother and dad. I thanked them for all their help, and I couldn’t believe what we had just done. The excitement in my dad’s voice as he congratulated me is something I will never forget. I couldn’t have imagined a better hunt, and I’m truly blessed to have shared this experience with my dad and my right-hand man by my side through it all.
In 2023, my dad and I drew our second choice Arizona late rifle Coues deer tags. It took us six long years for the coveted tags, and I had the goal of shooting a 110"+ buck. I knew I had my work cut out for me, but I had spent a lot of time over the last several years in the unit and knew my goal was obtainable.
After a typical restless night before any opening day, the alarm clock rang and the hunt was on. My father and I made our way to our glassing point together before first light with plans of my brother joining us on the hunt later in the morning. After a quick scan of the area with my binoculars, I realized the morning deer movement was slow. My brother met up with my dad and me later that morning where we glassed up several decent-sized bucks, but they
did not quite meet the mark of what we expected to fill our tags with.
Day two seemed to be repeat of day one with minimal deer movement in the morning and intense glassing throughout the day. I had glassed up a really nice buck that I field judged to be approximately 105". After watching this buck, my dad and I both decided to pass on him. We knew we would be able to turn him back up later in the hunt if needed.
The evening of day two, I glassed up a doe and a small buck 2,000+ yards away. Giving reference points to my dad and brother, they quickly picked the deer up in their binoculars. As we watched the deer, we caught the glimpse of a huge buck! He vanished three seconds later into some thick trees.
We stood there in disbelief. The buck appeared massive from over 2,000 yards away. We immediately knew we somehow needed to get a second look at this giant. We returned to camp after dark with the excitement of the big buck still lingering in our minds. Over dinner and drinks, we came up with a game plan to hopefully put us at better odds of laying eyes on the big buck. Our plan was to begin day three in an area that would give us a better look of the rolling hill we had last seen him on. That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about the buck and decided the only fitting name for him would be “El Jefe.”
Day three was on, and we were eager to get an early start. We worked our way up the mountainside with our headlamps guiding our way to our glassing point. Determined to find El Jefe, I kept my eyes glued to my binoculars. We saw a few bucks that were hard to pass, but we knew El Jefe was hiding somewhere in the thick trees.
After glassing for a few hours, I caught movement in my binoculars. It was the distinct flagging of a Coues deer’s erect whitetail waving back and forth as the buck was running up the hill. Flagging is often a sign that a deer is leaving an area due to suspected danger. As I watched the buck running up the hill, I immediately recognized him as El Jefe. Knowing I only had seconds to make a shot before he vanished, I quickly got behind my rifle. My crosshairs panned over El Jefe’s body, and I followed him as he was making his way towards the top of the hill. I knew he was further than the MOA I had pre-set in my scope when we first started glassing. As El Jefe ran up the hill, I did not have time to re-range and told my brother I needed to take my shot before El Jefe made it over the top of the hill. With my earplugs in, I failed to hear my brother give me an updated range of 580 yards. El Jefe separated himself from the other deer, and I knew this was my only chance to take my shot. He was now quartering away as he slowly walked up the hill flagging his tail.
Afraid that I wouldn’t see El Jefe again, I placed my crosshairs on his vitals. I slowly squeezed the trigger until the shot rang out and then watched El Jefe run over the hill through my scope. From my perspective, he appeared to have been hit, but I wasn’t certain of where. I had only seen him crest over the hill with an awkward gait. My brother called a clean miss, 10 inches below his rear quarter. My brother has been spotting me for years and I trusted what he had seen.
That night, I repeatedly beat myself up over what had happened. I was mentally checked out and so sick to my stomach that I didn’t even eat dinner. I tried to convince myself that I would relocate El Jefe. Knowing how much of a mental game hunting is, I had to find a way to get my mind straight and stay on course.
Day four came quickly, and we got to our glassing point. I walked away from my hunting partners. I needed some space to clear my mind and focus on finding El Jefe. Lunchtime came, and I met back up with my dad. As I was eating my half of a Mountain House meal, I was interrupted by my dad informing me he had spotted a buck. From the excitement in my dad’s voice, I knew it was a big buck. My dad doesn’t get excited for just any buck, either.
My dad quickly blurted out reference points on where the buck was. I asked if it was El Jefe, and he said that he didn’t think it was, but it was a nice buck nonetheless. I found the buck in my binoculars and noticed he was limping. I knew from my first glance that this buck was El Jefe. After watching him in my binoculars, I knew I had in fact hit him the day before by the way he was limping.
We watched as El Jefe bedded down at 430 yards. With tall grass in the area, I had no great shooting platform to shoot prone. I made the decision to shoot off my pack in a seated position. I knew I had to make this shot count. I placed my rifle on top of my pack, pushed my rifle down on my pack, and felt like I had a steady shooting platform. I dialed my scope and settled the crosshairs on his vitals. After checking the cant level on my scope, I slowly applied pressure to my trigger until the shot rang out. I quickly worked the bolt of my rifle to reload another round as I followed through on my target. As I was finding the buck in my crosshairs a second time, I could hear my brother call a center body hit. I noticed that El Jefe still had his head up. I immediately placed another round into El Jefe. My brother called a hit behind his front shoulder, and El Jefe jolted into a row of thick nearby trees. We could tell from my last hit that the deer was taking his final steps and stumbled out of view into the trees.
My dad, brother, and I began walking up to where we last saw El Jefe. My dad and brother were trying to decide whether the buck was El Jefe or not, but I knew with 100% certainty that it was. We inched closer to the thick row of trees that El Jefe ran into. My brother found him laying belly up about 80 yards away. I walked up to El Jefe and confirmed that he was expired. Flooded with emotions, I hugged my brother and dad. I thanked them for all their help, and I couldn’t believe what we had just done. The excitement in my dad’s voice as he congratulated me is something I will never forget. I couldn’t have imagined a better hunt, and I’m truly blessed to have shared this experience with my dad and my right-hand man by my side through it all.