DAN SIMMONS Sportsman's Quest MORE COLUMNS Advertisement

I first met Rick Williams when he was the helicopter pilot for the Focus Property Group. He was a pleasant and sociable fellow and we soon discovered we shared outdoor passions, one of which is hunting alone.

As he told me this story, he had just finished the Baja 1000 Off-Road Race. His team took third place in the Open/Pro class for the SCORE International Off-Road Series.

This was clearly a man who liked challenges and adventures. This story exemplifies the drive to go just a little beyond what we think we can do.

I'm honored to call Rick my friend and hope he will inspire you, as he does me, to go beyond what we think we can do and discover we can.

"Hunting Alone"

Rick Williams

I have a good hunting buddy who was quite serious with preplanning, scouting, and applications. I learned a lot from this guy. He generally puts in for over 20 premium tags each year in many different states and acquiring points, knows he generally will only draw one tag.

I've had the pleasure of accompanying him on numerous once-in-a-lifetime hunts for Rocky Mountain goats in Colorado outside of Leadville, to Desert Big Horn sheep in the San Rafael Swell, turkey hunting in Southern Utah, caribou in Alaska and elk in Southern Utah.

I applied for the September hunt for mule deer in the Grey's River area of Wyoming. I got lucky and the hunt was on. My friend and I made two scouting trips to the area with daypacks and spotting equipment. It was incredible country, accessible only on foot or horseback.

We saw some amazing typical bucks and some non-typical as well. Their locations were marked, as well as their times of travel for feeding and water.

When it came to the hunt I was on my own. I drove to the access point and started hiking with my 85-pound pack and rifle. It would be an eight to 10 mile hike up a decent trail with three good climbs to around the 9,500-foot level.

I set up a base camp about seven miles up the trail. After a much needed rest, I felt strong again and attempted to be invisible as I began scouting the area prior to the next morning's opening. The day ended and I slept well.

I awoke the next morning at 4:30 and noticed an outfitter with horses working his way up from the base of the mountain. I couldn't wait any longer - these guys were heading for my spot.

The outfitters working up the mountain were really messing things up. I continued to glass as it became light. I began to hear a shot or two on the other side of the mountain and saw a few bucks getting pushed but nothing I was interested in or had seen previously. I continued to hunt the rest of the day, enjoying the amazing sights and taking an afternoon nap at 10,000 feet in the sun on the south facing slope.

I rested for awhile and started out for the evening hunt. I moved slowly east to the ridge and decided to move a little further east to where there seemed to be less pressure, thinking maybe one of the bucks I was looking for had also moved just out of harm's way.

As I glassed from my vantage point, I saw what appeared to be a nice buck about 700 yards away. It looked like a great buck. I moved along the ridge going down hill away from my previously scouted area. I closed to about 300 yards when I saw the buck feeding towards me. I had about 200 yards of elevation on him, so I stopped and got a better look.

My heart began to race as I saw what was hopefully going to be the largest mule deer I had ever harvested. He was a perfectly symmetrical 4X4 with eye guards in velvet.

It was now around 5:00 p.m. and I was starting to lose light. I readied myself for a shot from my position, trying to get as stable a base as possible. The buck was still moving toward me from right-to -left on a 45-degree angle. My opportunity came and I took the shot. The canyon compounded the crack of my Remington 7mm, and continued to echo as I watched the buck bow his back as if having been punched in the stomach. I knew that I had hit him. He turned and began to run downhill quartering away from me towards the cover of quakes and pines. I was really hoping to see him drop before making it to cover, but no luck. I marked mentally the point he entered the trees and tried to keep it in sight the entire time I was working my way toward him.

In the excitement I failed to notice there was a large vertical ledge between the buck and me; it was about 15-feet-high. I tightly strapped everything down and carefully started the descent. About half way down I started to think to myself, "I should really be careful; I'm in this alone. If I fall and break my leg on this cliff, it could be interesting."

I finished my decent, and quickly made my way to the last point I saw the buck. The sun was gone now, and the ambient light was diminishing fast. I slowed my pace as I came close. I had only gone about 25 or 30 yards when I saw him. There he was at the base of an incredibly large pine tree. The buck had made it just inside the cover before expiring. I was ecstatic as I approached and began to admire his beauty. It was almost dark now. As I quickly prepared the buck, I began to realize that I had worked myself into quite a steep canyon and it was dark. I had 200 pounds of meat, a daypack, and a cape to get out of this hole and back to my camp by myself.

I thought, well, ideally I would hang the meat in a tree and take the cape and my gear and get it all back to camp and return with my large pack frame. I tied the large cape with the trophy rack at the top of my daypack and started up the mountain. It was clearly evident there was no way I could go back up the cliff. I was going to have to find an easier way with all this weight. I began to hear noises that I am sure, or hope, were self initiated. My brain ran wild with thoughts of the grizzly bear in the area, or a mountain lion tracking slow moving prey that had the smell of blood in the dark.

I really thought to myself, "This is not the most ideal situation to be in, with a freshly killed mule deer on my back, in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, by myself. I must love this hunting thing." Quickly those thoughts subsided as I became exhausted just trying to get back up the incredible Grey's River Mountain. I continued for four hours thinking the whole time, "I have to get back down there and retrieve the bulk of my meat." A few times, as I became more and more tired, I considered abandoning the meat and getting out with only the cape, but knew as a responsible hunter I had to return. I finally made it to my tent around 2:00 a.m. There was no way I was going back down, so I crawled into my tent and slept.

After four hours of sleep, the sun was back up. Of course I was so excited I immediately woke to admire my buck, take a few pictures and get back down to the meat, in hopes a bear hadn't taken it. I was amazed at how far I had actually gone the evening before. It wasn't too bad walking now; it was light and I wasn't carrying anything. I knew I had to find water somewhere because I was nearly out. I was three days into this back-country hunt, and the water I packed was gone. I saw a small, beautiful mountain pond and used my purifier to refill all my bottles.

It was now about 10:00 a.m. and I made my way to the meat. When I arrived, I was pleased to see nothing had touched the buck. Having worked five years in a slaughter house I quickly removed all the meat from the carcass and placed it in my pack frame. As I started up the hill it again sank in how steep the hill was, and how much weight I was carrying, as I could only move for awhile and stop. I continued along thinking, "Just get back to camp and rest." I made it to my tent and was determined to get everything loaded and down the mountain.

It was a challenge in itself organizing everything in some type of fashion that would allow me to pack out everything I came in with, plus 180 pounds of meat, cape and antlers. I kept the meat inside my North Face pack frame and strapped all my other gear to the outside of both packs and some inside over the meat. The cape and antlers were again strapped to the daypack. It was apparent there was no way I could physically carry both the daypack with its load and the large pack frame and its load along with my gun.

I decided the only way to get underway was to move the daypack load and my gun down to the main trail, and come back for the large pack. Getting everything down to the main trail was a major relief but I still had over five miles to go to get back to the parking area.

Anyone who knows me is fully aware of my inability to quit, so I started with the daypack first. I walked a 100 yards, dropped the daypack and went back that same 100 yards, picked up the large pack, and walked it up to the daypack. I had a good system going; it was just time consuming, and the worst part was having to drop one pack and pick up the other. After awhile my legs and arms were so tired I couldn't just load and stand up with the packs, so I had to start laying each pack on the ground with the straps facing up; I would lay down on top of the pack slide my arms through the straps, roll onto my stomach and get on my knees and stand up.

It was now dark again, and I was really exhausted. I seriously considered leaving the packs, leaving my gun, and getting out. I had to keep going.

Reaching my truck expended every last drop of physical and mental energy in my body. I sat down and wept at my victory. I thought to myself, "This isn't worth it and I will never do this again."

Now it's been awhile and I look at the buck on my wall and think, "what an amazing trip; I wouldn't trade it for the world." Would I do it again? Yup!

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Rick is clearly gifted in mental and physical strength. He shares the curiosity and ambition of our pioneer heritage. Does he seem unique? Yep, he is, and so are we all. It's amazing what we can do when we step away from the asphalt and use skills and strengths developed over thousands of years.

Good luck Rick. I'll be waiting for your next adventure.

Recipe of the week

When going to the effort that Rick did for his magnificent mule deer it deserves something special to place on the table. Here is a recipe based on one from a world famous hunting lodge, that is worthy of the effort.

Five-star Venison Loin

Two 8-oz venison loins; 3 Tbsp freshly crushed black pepper corns; 2 garlic cloves, minced; 2 Tbsp Dijon mustard; 2 Tbsp Red Current jelly; 1/4 cup Calvados (apple brandy); 3/4 cup beef stock; 2 Tbsp olive oil; salt & pepper to taste; 1/4 cup red wine.

Season the venison loins with salt and pepper; brush with mustard and sprinkle with crushed pepper corns and garlic; in medium frying pan place olive oil and heat until very hot, being careful not to burn; sear loins on all sides and remove from pan, place in 350 degree oven; pour excess oil from frying pan and deglaze with red wine; add Calvados and cook off alcohol; add beef stock and reduce until sauce is thickened; stir in current jelly; season with salt and pepper; remove venison from oven, slice, place on plate and pour sauce over the slices.