Bowmex Outfitters, take two.  Having been there in January with Mullet, Dev and I departing Old Mexico with three nice whitetails and a handful of javelinas, who wouldn’t go back?  The Mullet, of course.  At times, Mullet logic defies any reasonable explanation…

So, Dev and I arrived at Laredo airport last Monday afternoon and we were greeted by Perry, Kirk, Jimmy and David.  Bags were divided up between their two trucks.  We made a stop for a supply of adult beverages, crossed the border and pulled into the ranch with a little daylight left to spare, giving us just enough time to unpack our gear and sight in our bows.  After a full day of traveling, it felt good to sit around the fire with those boys, even if they are from Texas…

The next morning had us in our blinds before sunrise.  With barely enough light to see past twenty yards, I could make out a young eight pointer right in front of us, and then a larger bodied deer to our left at about forty yards.  Kirk looked at him through his binos and said he thought he was the mature mainframe eight with a kicker and a drop tine that he had seen a week or two before.  As the light improved, we watched him disappear back into the brush, only to pop out in front of us at about fifty yards.  He stared down another young buck.  Satisfied that he had discouraged the younger buck from coming in, he turned and disappeared into the brush a second time.  A few minutes later, he reappeared where we first saw him.  He made his way into the feeder, and with enough light to film, we started to video him.

With some footage in the can, and the buck standing broadside, Kirk told me to take him if I wanted him.  He thought he would go 135 inches, and maybe even touch 140.   That was good enough for me on the last day of a hunt, so it sure as hell was good enough for me on the first day of a hunt.  I got settled in, took a few breaths to control the adrenaline, picked a spot and let one fly.

The buck’s rear legs came off the ground and he bolted back towards the direction he first came from.  Kirk said we might want to give him some time before we looked for him, and then about three minutes later said, “Let’s go find him!”  We were on blood right away, and fifty yards later, we found him taking his last few breaths.  He greenscored 136 1/8 inches.

We were joined that afternoon by Gary, Jason and Kyle who were all from Wyoming.  Their flight was delayed the previous day, which messed up their connection into Laredo.  They didn’t waste any time either, with each one tagging out on three consecutive days.  Dev’s whitetail hunt didn’t pan out too well, but he put his Javie nightmares to rest by bagging two.  We shot so many javelinas that I finally stopped counting.  The meat from our hunts was given to the family that works on the ranch.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the camaraderie around the dinner table and the fire.  When no topic or subject is off limits; when no person is exempt from ballbusting; when not a single person takes offense; when a man can laugh at himself harder than those around him are laughing – a bond is formed.  It’s a testament to what kind of people the outfitters, their guides and their clients are. True kinship is not easily found, but once it is, it’s rarely lost.

See you again soon, boys.