Larry Iverson's 198" 13B buck

Larry Iverson was over due on the chance to hunt for himself. He has helped us with anything and everything to do with our outfitting business for several years now. I felt honored to be able to go with him on his Arizona Strip hunt. I had a client I was hunting with on opening morning so I wasn’t along with Larry until after a few days of the hunt had already come and went with no luck for him. It was late in the afternoon and we had been having no luck that day so we decided to drive down to another area to try and glass and see what we could see. On the way down a little two-track road I spotted some deer up on the ridge so we stopped to take a look and it was a bunch of does. We got ready to leave and I saw what I thought were antlers moving in the trees. I decide to run up the hill to get a closer look and when we topped to hill we ran face to face with this giant three point framed buck. I hadn’t taken my tripod and big glassed for some reason so I ran back to the truck and grabbed them and then ran back up the hill. I thought I might know where the buck had went so we made about a quarter mile stalk and set up to glass. After a few minutes we saw some does come toward us so we were patient for a minute longer and out he walked not 125 yards from us. He was facing us with part of a bush blocking him. We waited for what seemed like 20 minutes for him to move just a few inches so we could get a clear broad side shot. Finally we were getting impatient and Larry asked if I thought he should sneak a shot through the bush? He had a dead rest and I had confidence in him so I said yes. A couple seconds later it was all over and he had killed a 34-inch wide 198" 4x5 that had a giant 3 point frame.
　
Thanks Larry for all the hard work you do for us. It is always a great time when Larry is in camp telling stories and experiences he has had over the years.

Dan Burton's 197" Kaibab buck

Dan Burton drove all the way from Arkansas to hunt the early Kaibab hunt and I was the lucky one that got to take him. He arrived the day before the opening day and we headed out for the evening to see what we could see. After not seeing anything I was curious how the opening morning was going to be. We hunted pretty hard opening morning and hadn’t had any luck but that changed when we went down to one of my favorite little "honey holes". We sat up and sent my hunting partner Chase to make a loop and see if he could push out some deer we had seen go into a thick draw. This awesome buck came  trotting right through the saddle where I told Dan to be looking. As I threw my binoculars up to make sure it was a good enough buck to be shooting Dan was saying repeatedly "should I shoot", in the split second it took me to see it was a shooter I said shoot and before I even got the oot out of the word shoot I heard "boom" and there lay this buck. He was a 4x5 that scored 197"

Bruce Barnum's Elk

I wasn’t guiding them but was lucky enough to be able to tag along with the Barnum boys on their elk hunt a couple years ago. Bruce Barnum drilled this elk at 300 yards with a .270 shooting Nosler Partition bullets and it put him down. He rolled 30 yards and got wedged up in the trees. This sure was a fun hunt to be a part of. The Barnum boys are some of the funniest and nicest people a guy could ever be around. A couple of my hunting partners Russ Sorenson and Chase Christy were also along to enjoy the hunting and company.

Linda Shroufe 220" 5x7

Linda Shroufe help bring a four year quest to an end.  We had hunted this buck for four consecutive years with a couple of near misses.  She was pretty upset with me the night before for not letting her shoot a decent buck but I told her she wont get a big one if she shoots a little one.  She was a great hunter to take.  Good ole Larry Iverson was along to help me on this hunt.  She was able to have her pictures and story published in the MuleyCrazy Magazine and below is her story.  Thanks to MuleyCrazy for letting her show off her buck which was a massive 5x7 that scored 220"

The trail cam pictures were from 09 and his drop tine had traded sides.  In 07 when we started hunting this buck he had double drop tines, where he got his nickname "double dropper"

Panic is not what a hunter should feel when one draws a trophy mule deer tag for Unit

13A on “The Strip” in northwest Arizona between the Grand Canyon and Utah. My husband,

Duane and I had been applying for this treasure for 11 years with 12 bonus points. It really did

sound more appealing 5 to 11 years ago but as I approached my 60th birthday, memories of

long ago strenuous muley hunts in wide-open, rugged country reminded me of the daily rigors of

long days where I never even saw a muley during season, let alone one with antlers!

Admittedly I was in pretty good shape for having consistently gone to the gym for aerobics and

strength training for over three years, but then there was the idea of often necessary long shots

and well, I simply lost my confidence over the years. Thus, the panic.

Duane, on the other hand, had discovered his fountain of youth after three years of

retirement as Director of Arizona Game and Fish Department for 20 years. He was as excited

as a three month old pup. He didn’t lose all of his good sense, though, as after a successful

Goulds turkey hunt in Mexico, he heeded the advice of Brad Fulk of Rio Sonora Outfitters, who

told him if he ever drew this tag, hire a guide immediately. After a few phone calls, Clay Bundy

Outfitters rose to the top as the most reputable and honorable choice and the call was made

and the challenge accepted. Really, you pay money to hunt with a perfect stranger? Now that

was totally foreign to my thinking and experience. I mean usually friends and mere

acquaintances come out of the woodwork offering to share in your good fortune for free! This

added to my unease.

It was time to suck it up and prepare. After all, as a former Oregon Fish and Wildlife

Commissioner and former editor of The Oregon Hunter magazine, I had a reputation to maintain

and I really didn’t want to be the one to dampen Duane’s high spirits. So I insisted on sighting

in my .270 at the shooting range---a rare concept for Duane who shot his 7mm Mag a few years

ago and it shot just fine. But he dutifully took me to the range more than once so I could make

adjustments on my shooting... and attitude. Even then, 200 yards were as far as one could

shoot and the distance of my confidence, knowingly not far enough. My spirit was further tested

upon the arrival of the Terms of Agreement contract from Clay, but I swallowed my pride as I

signed my life away to everything but horses. Been there, done that with no excessive

permanent damage but a lesson well-learned and not forgotten. Wisdom comes as one of the

few benefits of age.

The time had arrived. I could not fully enjoy the beauty of this Arizona Strip country and

the intoxication of the smell of sage. My anxiety was running high. I couldn’t sleep nor eat and

Duane was so surprised at my silence, a rarity seldom experienced. We were greeted at the

outfitters’ headquarters by the skinning of a nice buck shot by a previous client---always

heartening and uplifting to note the success. That evening was full of laughter and bantering by

all the family and friends as antlers were measured and assignments were made. Duane, of

course, got Clay and I got the son-in-law, Trevor Hunt. He was young, confident and cheerful,

announcing that whoever wanted the biggest buck would hunt with him, but I knew he drew the

short straw.

Morning arrived too soon and too cold---14 degrees. I was mildly surprised when Larry

Iverson joined Trevor in the endeavor of my hunt. I was soon to find out what a perfectly

dynamic duo they are. Trevor began with all the right questions: what was I shooting, what was

my comfort zone (I bet he choked on that), and what were my expectations. Duane had earlier

instilled upon me to answer with no less than a 30 inch buck. It was dark and cold and I was

sleepy and not at all a great liar, so I said my buck needed to be bigger than a grocery bag.

Trevor actually stopped the truck. I knew an explanation was due, so I explained that in all my

previous mule deer hunting experiences, all the antlers from all my bucks fit in a grocery bag

and they were referred to as my grocery bag bucks---not something that made me really proud.

Surely we could top that. My guides were totally amused and Trevor assured me that we could

find one to fill a grocery cart. Although I was usually skeptical and wary of the exaggeration of

male hunters, I found myself moderately relaxing and enjoying the points of interest and stories

shared by my guides, who both knew this country intimately. Their wisdom and knowledge

quickly made me realize the importance of guides in this vast country. On our own, Duane and

I would be constantly worrying about where we were, where we were going and where we had

been. All I had to do is go with the flow and warm up with the sun. We saw a few does, no

antlers and by 3 pm it was getting cold again. We hiked up to the top of a butte, which quickly

warmed us up and set up spotting scopes and binoculars. It was amazing to see all the deer

and hunters, including really nice bucks. I was shaking so badly, I could barely focus my

binoculars. Since Trevor had the range finder, I kept asking how far. He kept saying too small.

I could not believe that he would not allow me to shoot at three different nice bucks and I gave

him the raspberries all evening long. I must admit I was a little disappointed but my guides were

not the least bit discouraged.

It was dark when we got back to camp and Duane and Clay were not back yet. As time

passed, they said Duane must have gotten his buck or they would be back by then. Sure

enough, Duane walked in with a huge smile on his face. He had gotten a typical, beautifully

symmetrical, 30 inch buck green scoring 204 Boone and Crockett points. Everyone was

excited, stories were told, plans were made for my next morning hunt and all went to bed.

Back in the camper, Duane was all wound up. He generally does not show a lot of

jubilancy and he had held in his excitement long enough. He was totally animated by the

events of the day and how he rode on the back of a quad with Clay who drove so fast downhill

on an old two track and it was cold and Duane was thinking about how he was going to hike

back up that steep hill but they went out a different way. They glassed from the top of buttes

and finally at the end of the day, they snuck up on the last tank and there was his buck with six

does. They ranged him and discussed how big he was and if Duane wanted to take him and

Clay thought he should so Duane took him with one shot at 310 yards. I enthusiastically and

enviously listened to him but I finally had to tell him to be quiet because I had to get up way

early to hunt for my buck.

Duane dutifully got up with me the next morning and sent me on my way. I knew he was

going back to bed. My guides were up and ready to go, showing no signs of discouragement

but they did ask if Duane was happy with his buck because they really couldn’t tell. I relayed his

version of the story and they laughed and said, “Yup, that’s Clay.” It had warmed up to 16

degrees. We were chatting along, enjoying the sunrise and cloudless skies when I spied a

beautiful coyote. My guides thought it would be good if I shot him but by the time I got out, put a

shell in my gun and found him in my scope, he was gone. Then he reappeared and just as

quickly disappeared. I was unloading my gun and just about to get back into the truck when

Trevor exclaimed, “There’s a buck.” He whipped up his binoculars and said, “You’re going to

shoot him.” My first words were, “How far?” He replied, “426 yards!” My heart sank. Then

Trevor continued with how he was standing right out in the open broadside with a single doe

and if we tried to get closer, he would probably move. Take a rest and shoot. The ballistics

were going through my mind: 6 inches at 300 yards and 18 inches at 400 yards. I had them

memorized. It would be fruitless for me to go farther than that. So I aimed high, shot and

missed. The buck just stood there as I quickly reloaded and Trevor calmly told me it was too

high, aim lower and shoot again. I did. Trevor yelled that he thought I hit him as the buck and

doe trotted off and soon disappeared. We found their tracks, no blood, and started trailing them

for a couple of miles. Up until this point, I had no time to be nervous or shaky. Now I was

questioning myself: what if I missed? what if he’s wounded? what if he gets away? I was just

heartsick but we saw them again in the trees. We couldn’t tell if he had been wounded and we

could only see his head and neck. By this time I was shaking and couldn’t find him in my scope.

Now Trevor is starting to get excited but not noticeably as frustrated as I was. He took his

binoculars off the tripod and told me to use it as a rest, which I did. I finally scoped him and

asked how far. Trevor replied 354 yards. What did I have to lose now? I shot and missed.

Too high again. Trevor then said he didn’t care what the ballistics said, aim right on. The buck

moved forward so I could see more of him. I aimed and shot and we could hear the thwop of the

hit. This is the first time I am positively excited! We both ran up after him and the doe was just

standing there. The buck was 100 yards away, piled up against a juniper. He was an oh my

gosh buck! He was lolling his head, eyes open and all of the stories of the big ones that got up

and ran away went through my mind as I made a probably unnecessary killing shot. Trevor and

I were jumping up and down, hugging and yelling and Trevor kept saying that I got Drop Tine.

My gosh, they even had him named!.

Trevor left to get Larry and the truck. I wouldn’t leave my trophy. I didn’t want anyone to

steal him! I took my own pictures and examined him closely. He had a protruding backbone

and his teeth were worn down to the gums. Later I was told he was at least 8 or 9 years old.

He may not have made it through the winter. When they got back , we repeated all the hugging

and yelling. Then Larry looked me right in the eye and told me he had hunted all last year for

Drop Tine. I truly meant it when I said I was sorry but he said, “No. If I couldn’t have him, then

you should.” A true gentleman. I can’t say enough about my guides. Although I only got to

share a day and a half with them, I will remember them always and fondly. They showed the

utmost patience, tolerance and encouragement. I never for a moment doubted that they wanted

me to get a trophy buck as much as I did.

Of course the celebrating just began. We took many pictures and relived the story again

and again. We couldn’t wait to get back to camp to show everyone, especially Duane and Clay.

Drop Tine was a 5 X 7 non typical green scoring 220 Boone and Crockett points. It was a

heavy, massive rack with 5 inch bases. I had to thank Trevor many times over for NOT letting

me shoot any of those bucks the first day. by Linda Shroufe

David Dukat Buck

David Dukat got this 30" wide 190" gross 4x4 opening day of the 13A hunt in AZ.  Here is a story about the hunt in his own words.


Opening morning couldn't come quick enough and we got up a couple hours before light, had a full breakfast and told hunting stories until it warmed up enough to start the truck. The real reason we had to get up so early is half of us couldn't sleep because of the the snoring, snorting and farting, so we finally gave up and called it a night. There were some other guys in camp that were pretty loud sleepers (not Steve and I of course). Luckily I found some earplugs and a nose plug for the second night. They made Dan sleep outside in the snow (I didn't know it snowed in AZ either), so I was thankful to Clay for that.
Once we got loaded up and out hunting, we found a lone doe thanks to Steve's eagle eyes and two more does which I spotted out of the truck on the way in. I was tempted, but knew Susan was going to get some corn fed deer in Nebraska (and my tag said buck only) so I held off.
It was a little too cold that morning to actually get out of the truck and hunt (plus Dan and Steve had the glassing covered anyhow), so Trevor my guide and I went up and drove around Mt. Trumbull a little later in the morning. We found the a good buck with his nose up harassing a couple does. I got excited and shouted "buck", but Trevor didn't even slow the truck down. I finally had to get him in a choke hold to get the truck stopped and take a picture. He said he'd seen bigger does. As we headed back to camp, we saw another deer hanging in someone's camp that looked pretty big, but since they outnumbered us and were all drinking beers and had weapons, we decided not to try to tag it. Plus one guy had a cowboy hat on and looked kinda mean.
After a relaxing lunch back at the lodge, we all got in a decent nap. With the short days this time of year it wasn't as long as we wanted, except for Dan, but Trevor managed to get us up and out for the afternoon hunt.
We decided to hunt nice and close to camp to be the first ones back for dinner, so we drove a couples miles out to a nice glassing hill. Steve and Dan picked a hill even a closer to camp once Dan woke up (and not near as much of a climb by the way). Trevor was having a lot of trouble getting up the hill, so I had to take his pack and pull him up part way along with my rifle, pack, binoculars, the glassing chair and the hot chocolate.
Anyhow, we made it and after I got on both coats and my hat and the snow stopped for a minute, we had a nice rainbow out in the valley. I was enjoying it when Dan interrupted us and said Steve and he had spotted a buck. We searched and Dan talked about it being near a bunch of different trees and fences and tanks and light spots and dark spots and crevices and dead trees and those type things, but we never did see it. Trevor was still hurting from the climb up the hill, so he wanted to make sure it was worth getting a closer look.
Dan finally coerced us off the mountain with some foul language and we went after the buck sight unseen. I backed the power off my scope from 9 to 5 and we started hiking. What we couldn't see from the apex of the mountain peak we were on was about fifty 10 foot deep gulleys on our way to the deer. Every 50 yards we had to slide down into these crevices, then claw our way up the other side. Anyhow, we finally made it to the area where the deer was supposedly hiding, taking signals from Dan up on the little knob.
As Trevor rounded a juniper tree, he froze and I froze right behind him. Apparently the deer was about 80 yards in front of him standing broadside looking at him. Of course I couldn't see him through the juniper tree, so I stepped out to get a better view. About that time he decided to bounce off through the junipers. I jumped out to try to see him and he was gone, but we ran to the other side of the tree and there he was bouncing away.
Trevor said "Do you want him"? I was too busy trying to get my rifle ready and unfold my shooting sticks to pay any attention. He finally grabbed me and made me look through the binoculars. All I could see was an elk bouncing away from us like mule deer. I said to Trevor, "I can't find him and you need to tell me anyhow because I've never hunted deer this big."
In no time the deer disappeared and we were back to taking signals from Dan. Apparently the deer had stopped out a ways and we were sneaking back and forth trying to see it. Eventually we found a clearing through the junipers and Trevor spotted the deer. He was standing there looking at us and I asked Trevor if I should fling some lead.
He gave me the go ahead, so I set up the shooting sticks and dropped to the ground. I pulled up my rifle and steadied it on the sticks. Unfortunately, all I could see was a lot of sagebrush through the scope and a couple sticks in front of a tree way out there. Unless I planned to shoot at a horn and stun him, I was out of luck with the sticks. Trevor unclipped his binocs from his tripod and I got on my knees and could now see about half the buck in the scope.
I asked Trevor for yardage and he said "477". I found the deers chest, settled the third reticle on him and squeezed the hair trigger - Kaboom. The deer didn't move. I jacked another shell in and - Kaboom. Still nothing. I was starting to think this was one of those game and fish stings, but Trevor said "your shooting over him". Kaboom. Nada. About this time he sauntered behind a tree.
Fortunately he walked back out for another look. Just as I pulled the trigger once again he began to move behind the tree again. Out of some stroke of luck I hit him. I heard Dan talking about how well he could track a deer, so I decided to shoot off his back leg to test the theory. The deer disappeared and we were back again with the signals.
This time Dan and Steve were having a hard time watching the deer and watching us and we were running, no sprinting, back and forth to try and see the deer. The deer was also covering ground at a run and I heard something crashing through the brush, but Trevor was focused and didn't hear it. Dan finally got us headed in the right direction and we ran toward a fence. Just as we reached it, we saw the deer, I pulled up, leaned against a post and shoot the deer running offhand at about 150 yards. To my surprise it dumped him. Trevor was equally amazed and we did a little celebrating.
We then climbed the fence and started walking toward the deer. As we closed in on him, he got up one last time and I shot him on the move once again at about 40 yards. I jacked one more shell in and shot in it the air just for good measure, which gave Trevor a bit of a scare. Actually not sure what happened there although I was excited and the gun has an extremely light trigger, I was just happy I had the gun pointed up. We walked up to the deer and I was overjoyed with a great deer.
Now I know that's quite a story for a days worth of hunting, but I tried to leave out the boring parts. All in all, it was a great week and a lot of fun. I exaggerated a little here and there, but it was one of those weeks when everything seemed to go wrong, but turned out pretty good. The hunting was amazing and Clay Bundy knows his deer like no one I've ever met and he and Trevor put in the time to know where the big deer were hiding (and Trevor didn't have any trouble getting up the hill as I'm sure you've figured out). If you ever draw a tag on the strip, he is the one to call.

Michael Braeleman/Zona Pinto Bucks

Michael Braegleman and Zona Pinto were a very nice couple to take on a late 12A East Kaibab hunt.  They had lots of good stories and were very funny to be around.  We had hunted high and low and weren't seeing very many deer on this hunt so at times our spirits were down.  One thing I have learned though is patience and persistence when it comes to hunting giant mule deer.  After about a week of hunting and not seeing what we wanted our luck changed as we were able to get two awesome bucks in two exciting hours.  They both made remarkable one shot kills.  Along on this hunt enjoying the good times was my very good friend from Tucson, AZ Dan Hunsaker.  What a great memory I have of this hunt.  Zona's buck was a 160" 4x5 and Michael's buck was a 190" 4x5.

Brandon Letcher Buck

Brandon Letcher was lucky enough to draw a 13 A Arizona Strip tag and came to hunt with us.  We hunted hard and covered a lot of tough country out on the Strip. After a few good days of hunting and a lot of funny stories told, both by myself and Brandon, we were able to connect on this great 180" 4x4 buck.  As always it was a good time and another friendship made.  Thanks to Brandon for a good time.