My first taste of hunting Arizona coues whitetail came with my father, Lawrence McClendon at the age of twelve. Once I passed the NRA hunting safety course, we set off to hunt javalina. After arriving at "The Hole" Dad stopped me and said those magic words, "Don’t Move." He spotted two of the biggest coues whitetail we have ever seen. We were determined to get one of them and applied for the late whitetail hunt religiously. By the way, we both scored on the javalina.

After many seasons of harvesting nice bucks, my chance to take a record book animal came in 1991. This hunt began the same as usual, with Dad glassing from the upper long ridge and myself walking the lower ridges. It wasn’t long before I jumped a few does and enjoyed watching them scamper off to safety. As I approached the deep ravine where Dad and I usually meet, the sounds of rocks rolling, and breaking branches sent my heart racing. All I could see was a white tail flag and horns. In a flash he was gone and I sprinted to the edge of the ravine. The buck was already 400 yards away running across the far ridge.

I couldn’t give up on him that easily so I went after him. Once I got to the far ridge where the buck had disappeared I began glassing. The buck was standing, watching me about 100 yards away. I threw my rifle to my shoulder but he was already gone. This was turning into quite a cat and mouse game. Well, I took off again and trailed the buck to an area where I might have a chance at him. This place only had two escape routes; over the bluffs above me or across the far ridge. I tried to catch my breath before moving into this area, but the buck wasted no time busting out. He bolted across the ridge and presented a broadside shot at about 150 yards. The bullet from my 7MM Mag found its mark and the magnificent animal dropped. I was so exhausted from chasing him I never realized how big he really was. Once Dad came up the ridge to meet me he said "Looks like he’ll make the books." Only then did I realize how big his antlers really were.

I started packing out my deer and Dad took off to score one for himself. Only 30 minute’s passed when I heard the report of a rifle shot. I found dad admiring a nice big buck he had taken. Many times both of us had harvested deer together, but never had we gotten such big bucks. My deer had an outside spread of 19 inches and scored 117 easily surpassing the 110 B&C minimum. My Dad’s buck had a much larger body and scored 93.

We never saw those two world class bucks again. But that first time , when I was twelve, hooked me for life. I believe their genes still run through the generations of deer in the area. I have enjoyed the many years of hunting success at that location with my father and hope to enjoy some of the same opportunities and experiences with my son, Kristopher.

Kent McClendon