A Weekend in the Wild

It was 3:30 a.m. on an early November Saturday when my first alarm went off. To my surprise, I wasn’t nearly as tired as I had anticipated the night before. After all, it was hunting season, and I was eager to get going. I brewed a pot of coffee and carried my camera bag and duffle downstairs and into the back of the truck. After a couple of last-minute additions to the gear list, my second alarm chimed, reminding me that I had about five minutes before I needed to get going. I hurried back upstairs and searched for a thermos to keep my coffee warm during the drive up to Red Feather Lakes. 

Though the camera bag might have hinted at my purpose, my task for the weekend wasn’t to hunt but to document a guided youth hunt organized by Colorado Parks and Wildlife and several volunteer instructors. This mentored big game hunt is one of several free educational hunting opportunities provided by CPW for youth between the ages of 12 and 17. Other hunts offered include small game, waterfowl and turkey. (More information on this and other available Hunter Outreach Programs can be found here.)  After months of hunter education courses, applications, and firearm training, three teens were selected to participate in a mentored mule deer hunt. Each participant, accompanied by a parent or guardian, was paired with a volunteer instructor to learn about track and sign, shooting skills, and the ethical and responsible harvesting of animals.

I arrived at the camp hosting the event just before 6:30 and headed to a small cabin where I’d be shadowing the groups for the next day and a half. Everyone was finishing breakfast, finalizing their plans for the day, and organizing the teams for hunting various locations around the 3,200-acre Ben Delatour Scout Ranch about 40 miles northwest of Fort Collins.

I was greeted by Phil Harbison, the weekend’s hunt leader, and two other volunteer guides, Mike O’Donnell and Cheryl Varela. The entire group had assembled the day before to set up camp, inspect firearms and go over the rules and regulations for the weekend before scouting the surrounding landscape and getting familiar with the designated hunting quadrants.

As soon as the last pair of boots were tied, the kids headed out the door with their mentors, ready to take their positions before first light. I tagged along with Cheryl and her mentee, 15-year-old Beau Counts and his mother Autumn, as they began a short walk from the back of the cabin into a nearby clearing. Cheryl had scouted the area the afternoon before and saw some good signs for what could make for a successful outing. Hugging the bottom of a hill that ran the length of the clearing’s south edge, it wasn’t long before Cheryl stopped. She pointed straight ahead to four or five does that were grazing in the distance, and as this wasn’t an antlered deer hunt, things were looking very promising.

As we made our way up the hill for cover among the trees, the small herd from which we were surely about to harvest made its way along the far side of the clearing across from us and up into much steeper, rockier terrain. After waiting to see if the animals would double back, Cheryl led us on a roundabout path aimed at placing Beau in a more advantageous position.

Moving along a new trail, Cheryl pointed out tracks and vegetation, showed how to check wind direction and whispered details of her thought process to Beau and Autumn as to how she was hoping things might work out. Not much farther along on our new route, we heard a shot in the distance. To the east of us, we thought, and definitely a rifle. Maybe one of the other groups had found something. 

As Cheryl, Beau and Autumn pressed forward, I returned to camp and climbed into my truck and started driving. Eventually, I reached a large maintenance shed designated for participants to learn how to skin and break down a deer. Inside, 14-year-old Peter McNitt and his father Randy, guided by volunteer mentor Mike, received final instructions before removing the pelt from Peter’s very first deer. Just one last rinse and the meat was left to cool overnight for the quartering lesson that would follow the next day. 

Following a quick lunch, the two groups still without a deer resumed their afternoon pursuits, while Peter and Randy remained behind to enjoy a well-deserved break. My focus turned to the weekend’s hunt leader, Phil, and his mentee, Trenton. We drove to what was thought to be a promising spot and began walking. Eventually, we crested the top of a nearby hill and waited patiently, scanning the surroundings for any signs of movement. As the last hours of legal light faded and the sun set behind the mountains, our watch remained unrewarded. No sightings, no success. 

Back at the cabin, a hearty spaghetti dinner was in the final stages of preparation and stomachs were soon full. Between bites, groups swapped stories from throughout the day as they made plans for the next morning. Phil and Trenton were to stick together; Cheryl’s expertise was sought by Peter and Randy in an effort to guide them through the process of quartering and breaking down their deer; leaving Mike and Beau to team up and figure out a gameplan for what lay ahead.

An early morning calls for an early night. In bed by 8 and up by 5, everyone was eager to make the most of the time we still had together. I figured finishing where I began wouldn’t hurt — or maybe I just had a good feeling about it — and chose to shadow Mike, Beau and Autumn. After hopping into our trucks, we drove to a spot not far from where Mike helped Peter get his first deer the day before and walked until we hunkered down next to a small thicket and waited.

In a hushed voice, Mike pointed out parts of the surrounding landscape that would make it attractive for deer in the area. He gave some abbreviated lessons on ecology and biology and what these animals typically look for as they go about their days, and where they might go to look for food, water, shade or cover. The sun eventually rose and enough time went by to push us on to the next spot.

Back in our trucks, we turned around and tried down another path, continuing on until we spotted a small herd of does, picturesquely framed on a hilltop through our passenger windows. We kept the vehicles moving until a thick row of trees shielded us from sight. Moving quickly and quietly, we hugged the treeline back to where we saw the herd. We crossed a small creek and crept up the hill on the opposite side. Mike spotted them in the distance and sat his hunting pack on the ground, instructing Beau to get ready. Just as they had practiced, Beau moved into position as Mike loaded the rifle before handing it over and placing his pack on the ground to serve as a shooting rest.

We waited for the herd to move along the distant hill that ran perpendicular to our location, hoping they’d emerge just off to the right of where we could make them out through a scrubby thicket — but they instead disappeared to the left. 

“Let’s go,” Mike said. Unloading the gun and picking up his pack, he was off again with Beau right behind him. Down the hill and back over the creek, using the trees as cover, we raced our way to where we last saw the herd. After a bit of cat and mouse, Mike called off the chase. The terrain was getting too steep and we were getting too close to private property to take any chances.

We hopped into the trucks again and made our way back toward the first stop of the morning. Driving slowly behind Mike, I watched him make his way down the winding dirt road in front of us before coming to a small, steep switchback. Leaving a bit of room between us, I let Mike pass beyond view before following him. As I reached the downhill turn to my right, I happened to look over to my left. A lone doe emerged from behind a large thicket on the hill not more than 20 yards away. Unphased by my presence, I kept a steady pace until I caught up to Mike and flashed my high beams until he stopped.

I told Mike and Beau what I’d seen and we hurried back up the hill we had just descended. In the distance to our left, walking along another stand of trees, was the doe. Mike threw down his pack as he and Beau assumed their respective positions as they waited for the animal to present a clean shot. As Beau readied himself, the doe continued its walk directly away from us. Mike called to it in hopes of getting it to turn broadside. He let out several loud bleats, no response.

“Hey, deer!” Mike called out. The doe stopped, turning on a dime nearly 90 degrees to look back just as Beau pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. The rifle had misfired. The deer started off again, slipping out of sight. Beau let out a sigh of frustration, but Mike was keen to press on.

“Don’t worry about it. We learn and move forward. Let’s get after it,” said Mike, as he picked up the hunting pack he had dropped down once again to serve as a shooting rest.

Observing the doe’s trajectory along the treeline, we quickly veered off to the side, tracing a wide path parallel to her anticipated route. Jutting out of the ground in the middle of a field to our left was a small outcrop. I climbed up first, followed by Beau and Mike. From our elevated vantage point, we scanned the perimeter of the forest’s edge until the doe came into view, her pace unhurried. Lying prone atop the rocks, Beau readied himself for another shot, with Mike poised just behind him.

The deer slipped just out of view behind a few stray trees and we waited for it to emerge on the other side. No luck. Taking advantage of a quick break, Beau crept down the rocks into another position as the deer appeared to turn around and make its way back from the way it came. Mike let out a few more bleats before the deer turned around again, deciding to keep moving in its original direction and leaving Beau in a less advantageous position than before.

Climbing back up the rocks, Beau settled in one last time. And there it was, finding a small clearing just between trees, the doe was perfectly broadside. With his binoculars on the deer, Mike led Beau through some of the final steps.

“You got eyes on her? Okay. Just behind and up from the shoulders. When you’re ready.”

The crack of the rifle echoed across the field. It was a textbook shot. Time seemed to stand still as the significance of the moment unfolded. Then, as if lying down for a mid-morning nap, the doe lay motionless, her form settling into the natural tapestry of the surrounding landscape.

“Well done,” said Mike, “Really well done.” Beau turned to locate his mother. Spotting her at the edge of the field, he flashed a big smile and extended a thumbs-up. 

Making their way toward the deer with measured and respectful footsteps, Mike offered a reflective debriefing to Beau, providing a sort of playback commentary on the series of events and decisions leading up to this moment. A foundation of information on which Beau could continue to build his hunting education.

Having gathered a few commemorative photos, Beau enlisted Mike’s assistance in completing his first deer tag to mark the morning’s success. A very hands-on lesson soon followed as Mike continued to teach Beau the art of field dressing a deer before getting it to the shed for further processing. 

As the morning wrapped up, our time on the ranch came to a rather abrupt close as the group had to pack everything up and make room for the next round of visitors. I was able to catch up with Beau and Autumn a few weeks later to check in and follow up about their whole experience. It turns out that while our time was cut a bit short back on the ranch, they were able to meet up with Cheryl and receive assistance in further breaking down Beau’s deer to get all of the meat home and into the freezer.

Asking to hear about their reflections since that weekend, Beau succinctly summed up their sentiments. “I just really enjoyed it,” he said. 

His mother expanded on their gratitude, reflecting on how their discovery of this opportunity during a Hunter Education course had been able to more tangibly reinforce the learning of earlier classroom sessions. “We’re so thankful for the experience. He just would not have had the opportunity to get out and learn and do everything he did that weekend,” she said, “We’re just super grateful.”

Beau and Autumn’s narrative should serve as a testament to the significance of such immersive experiences, reinforcing the value of hands-on learning in the outdoors. Despite such a fast-paced weekend at the ranch, the lasting impact was highly apparent through their reflective conversations, further highlighting the importance of connecting individuals with nature and wildlife alongside hunting and conservation initiatives. 

Written by Ryan Jones. Ryan is a visual coordinator for Colorado Parks and Wildlife.