It has been my good fortune to take quite a few deer with my black powder guns over the years, and I have clear memories of most of them. Some, though, stand out, and the deer I took near the Jarbidge Wilderness area in northeastern Nevada in 1994 is one of those. I was hunting with my good friend ”˜Skip’, and we were working on getting him a shot at a very nice mule deer buck he had spotted in the area. We had flushed him a couple of times down low and he headed up to a high ridge each time. Skip had worked out a plan of attack for that day, and he was to travel from our camp into the buck’s area by way of that high, steep ridge, while I moved along parallel to him at a lower altitude after a short delay, hunting on my own behalf. The plan was that I, hunting below and behind, would move the buck and he would climb up to Skip, stop and stand broadside for the shot. Skip left well before daylight, and I just before dawn, in the semi-darkness. I had traveled about half a mile when I spotted movement up a steep slope to my right. The slope was basically covered with sage mixed with clumps and groves of the small trees locally called mountain mahogany, but there was a large bare area where the terrain was just too steep for vegetation, almost vertical. The light had increased to reasonable levels and I was able to see a small group of mule deer, a half-dozen or so, all standing in a sparse grove of the trees, belly-deep in the sage. I at first thought they were a group of does, but then one of them moved to the right a bit and I could see that it was what appeared to be a 2 x 3 buck. A shootable buck. Sorry, Skip. I eased slowly to my right and managed to get a standing rest of sorts, against the bole of a small tree.
I was carrying my .54 caliber Ozark Mountain Arms Hawken, built from a kit about 1985. It has a Green Mountain barrel, 1” x 34” with a 1:70” twist. My load was 110 grains of Goex FFFg powder and a 0.535” round ball in a 0.015” ticking patch lubricated with Wonderlube. In preparation for this hunt I had spent a lot of time getting the rifle sighted in at 100 yards and shooting it to check the trajectory out to 150 yards, which seemed advisable in this big, big western country. Long shots seemed a good bet.
The deer were about 80 yards away, I estimated, but up a very steep slope, at least 45°, maybe a fair bit more. I’ve been shooting long enough to recognize a tough shot when I see it, and this one qualified. Several things contributed to that.
Estimation of distance is crucial to good shooting, even on level ground, and it’s a skill every hunter needs to learn. I’ve worked hard at it, and can get close enough for government work on the level on my own turf, but up or down hills my estimates get fuzzy. Not being familiar with the size of mule deer didn’t help, neither did having them partially hidden by the trash. The feel of the land was unfamiliar to me, much more wide open and large scale than my local habitat. There was no bush or tree of which I knew the average size. If my estimate of 80 yards was correct, it meant my rifle would hit about 1.7” high on the level back in Kentucky.
When a rifle is sighted in at one elevation and shot at another significantly different, it will not shoot to the same point of aim. Air is thicker at lower altitudes, thinner at higher. The bullet must push the air, the molecules, aside as it travels, which slows the bullet down, and we call that drag, Dense air equates to high drag, thin air to low drag. So my rifle, sighted in at 540 feet above sea level in high drag air but now being fired at 10,500 feet in low drag air, would not hit where I aimed it. The thinner air meant fewer molecules had to be pushed aside, less drag, less loss of velocity. That meant the ball would reach its target more quickly, gravity would have less time to act on it so it wouldn’t fall as far as back in Kentucky. It would hit above my point of aim, and in my situation I estimated that to be by about one inch.
Shooting up or down a steep grade introduces an unavoidable error which makes any gun shoot high. The longer the shot, the slower the bullet and the greater the incline, the worse the error would be. In my situation, slow ball, middle distance and very steep incline, it could be 3-4 inches, at least.
So, my gun would be shooting high by about 1.7” because that was it’s normal trajectory at 80 yards when sighted for 100, high by up to 1” because of the high altitude and high by as much as 3”-4” because of the incline angle. That came to an impressive 6”-8” above the point of aim, and that could be a real problem. To hit where I wanted with open iron sights with a poor standing rest in low, early morning light up the steep slope at a target which was partially hidden by intervening trash and with a gun which would hit high by an unknown amount... I recognize a tough shot when I see one.
I placed the sights on the buck’s chest, but he was facing me a bit too much for my liking, so I held the picture and waited. I’m not sure the deer were aware of me, but they did seem to be looking in my general direction. They certainly weren’t alarmed. We stood there, nothing moving but my internal calculator, racing to check yet again my range estimation and all the factors involved in the trajectory of that ball. After what seemed a long time the buck turned to its right a bit more and I had a fair look at his chest. I know that the average whitetail buck is 14” from back to brisket, and I figured a mulie might be 15”-16”, so if my calculations were correct and I held center chest, as usual, I could very well shoot over the buck’s back, or at least hit too high to drop him. I decided to aim at the bottom line of the chest and hope to hit center chest, through the lungs. I steadied myself as best I could and squeezed off the shot. There was a little wind blowing across the area, not enough to be a problem, but it did clear the smoke very quickly, and I saw the deer... just standing there. Not a one moved for several seconds, then all but my buck slowly turned and walked up-slope and quickly out of sight. My buck did the same after a few more seconds, and quickly disappeared. It was very quiet.
I reloaded without rushing, then headed up the slope to see how well I had solved my math problem. I couldn’t go directly up, it was too steep, so I had to angle upward for about 100 yards to my left and then double back and sidehill around to the spot the deer were in. When I got close I was very pleased to see an antler sticking up from the sage, and then to see the buck down not 10 yards from where he had been standing at the shot. He was a nice 3 x 4 instead of the 2 x 3 I had thought, with one broken tine. The ball had struck more than a third of the way up the chest and passed through at an upward angle, hitting both lungs and the major vessels, resulting in a very quick kill. I had guessed well.
When I’m hunting in my own back yard all this figuring and cogitating isn’t necessary. I know my gun’s trajectory, the terrain and the game so well I generally just point and shoot, with good results. Here in this unfamiliar situation, with both the terrain and the conditions quite different than what I was used to, a bit more thought was required. It worked out well that I had spent so much time working up my load, practicing my shooting at distance and thinking beforehand about all that would be involved on the hunt. It meant that I had a grand, successful hunt even though I was outside my comfort zone.
As I grow older the memories of my hunts assume a greater part of my hunting life, and this is one I recall with pleasure from time to time. I call it my mathematical mulie.
Spence
I was carrying my .54 caliber Ozark Mountain Arms Hawken, built from a kit about 1985. It has a Green Mountain barrel, 1” x 34” with a 1:70” twist. My load was 110 grains of Goex FFFg powder and a 0.535” round ball in a 0.015” ticking patch lubricated with Wonderlube. In preparation for this hunt I had spent a lot of time getting the rifle sighted in at 100 yards and shooting it to check the trajectory out to 150 yards, which seemed advisable in this big, big western country. Long shots seemed a good bet.
The deer were about 80 yards away, I estimated, but up a very steep slope, at least 45°, maybe a fair bit more. I’ve been shooting long enough to recognize a tough shot when I see it, and this one qualified. Several things contributed to that.
Estimation of distance is crucial to good shooting, even on level ground, and it’s a skill every hunter needs to learn. I’ve worked hard at it, and can get close enough for government work on the level on my own turf, but up or down hills my estimates get fuzzy. Not being familiar with the size of mule deer didn’t help, neither did having them partially hidden by the trash. The feel of the land was unfamiliar to me, much more wide open and large scale than my local habitat. There was no bush or tree of which I knew the average size. If my estimate of 80 yards was correct, it meant my rifle would hit about 1.7” high on the level back in Kentucky.
When a rifle is sighted in at one elevation and shot at another significantly different, it will not shoot to the same point of aim. Air is thicker at lower altitudes, thinner at higher. The bullet must push the air, the molecules, aside as it travels, which slows the bullet down, and we call that drag, Dense air equates to high drag, thin air to low drag. So my rifle, sighted in at 540 feet above sea level in high drag air but now being fired at 10,500 feet in low drag air, would not hit where I aimed it. The thinner air meant fewer molecules had to be pushed aside, less drag, less loss of velocity. That meant the ball would reach its target more quickly, gravity would have less time to act on it so it wouldn’t fall as far as back in Kentucky. It would hit above my point of aim, and in my situation I estimated that to be by about one inch.
Shooting up or down a steep grade introduces an unavoidable error which makes any gun shoot high. The longer the shot, the slower the bullet and the greater the incline, the worse the error would be. In my situation, slow ball, middle distance and very steep incline, it could be 3-4 inches, at least.
So, my gun would be shooting high by about 1.7” because that was it’s normal trajectory at 80 yards when sighted for 100, high by up to 1” because of the high altitude and high by as much as 3”-4” because of the incline angle. That came to an impressive 6”-8” above the point of aim, and that could be a real problem. To hit where I wanted with open iron sights with a poor standing rest in low, early morning light up the steep slope at a target which was partially hidden by intervening trash and with a gun which would hit high by an unknown amount... I recognize a tough shot when I see one.
I placed the sights on the buck’s chest, but he was facing me a bit too much for my liking, so I held the picture and waited. I’m not sure the deer were aware of me, but they did seem to be looking in my general direction. They certainly weren’t alarmed. We stood there, nothing moving but my internal calculator, racing to check yet again my range estimation and all the factors involved in the trajectory of that ball. After what seemed a long time the buck turned to its right a bit more and I had a fair look at his chest. I know that the average whitetail buck is 14” from back to brisket, and I figured a mulie might be 15”-16”, so if my calculations were correct and I held center chest, as usual, I could very well shoot over the buck’s back, or at least hit too high to drop him. I decided to aim at the bottom line of the chest and hope to hit center chest, through the lungs. I steadied myself as best I could and squeezed off the shot. There was a little wind blowing across the area, not enough to be a problem, but it did clear the smoke very quickly, and I saw the deer... just standing there. Not a one moved for several seconds, then all but my buck slowly turned and walked up-slope and quickly out of sight. My buck did the same after a few more seconds, and quickly disappeared. It was very quiet.
I reloaded without rushing, then headed up the slope to see how well I had solved my math problem. I couldn’t go directly up, it was too steep, so I had to angle upward for about 100 yards to my left and then double back and sidehill around to the spot the deer were in. When I got close I was very pleased to see an antler sticking up from the sage, and then to see the buck down not 10 yards from where he had been standing at the shot. He was a nice 3 x 4 instead of the 2 x 3 I had thought, with one broken tine. The ball had struck more than a third of the way up the chest and passed through at an upward angle, hitting both lungs and the major vessels, resulting in a very quick kill. I had guessed well.
When I’m hunting in my own back yard all this figuring and cogitating isn’t necessary. I know my gun’s trajectory, the terrain and the game so well I generally just point and shoot, with good results. Here in this unfamiliar situation, with both the terrain and the conditions quite different than what I was used to, a bit more thought was required. It worked out well that I had spent so much time working up my load, practicing my shooting at distance and thinking beforehand about all that would be involved on the hunt. It meant that I had a grand, successful hunt even though I was outside my comfort zone.
As I grow older the memories of my hunts assume a greater part of my hunting life, and this is one I recall with pleasure from time to time. I call it my mathematical mulie.
Spence
