A Booner for Ben

Jessie Maximuke and Author Ben Funk, life long friends and Big Muley Addicts

Two weeks before I purchased my very first stick and string I was determined to get serious and find the big one. I spent money like a career high roller gambling addict on fuel, a real shark I was at the Esso. I bounced my way around the hills and back trails like a gypsy on a camel making the pilgrimage to Egypt. I was going to locate a booner and go out on opening day and wrap my tag around his antlers. This will be easy, so I thought.

Now I as I stated earlier I have been fortunate to see some amazing mule deer bucks and many that will make the all-time record book but the very first deer I would ever be going after was also the biggest I have ever witnessed and been blessed to see in real life. I named him “Meat”. “Ring, ring, ring… Gary you won’t believe what I just found!”, “what?” he asked, “I could hardly talk, my mouth was dry and I felt like I did when I was a young boy when I received my first Nintendo under the tree with duck hunt! I just found a 260 incher!”. My mentor and one of my very best friends tells me he is going to put his life on hold and make the journey to come visit and try and help me harvest this animal. I never saw Meat again. On that trip a beautiful double inline buck that would easily score over 200” walked past us and I just shrugged it off like he was a fork horn. I was a fool. Not a hunting fool, just a fool. I think I watched one too many Jim Shockey videos and figured the sun will shine on me tomorrow and I will be hauling my world record to Bentley Coben to get him officially scored. Year one, an epic season and one I will never forget. 2 months of absolute perfection. Yet in my own mind I was a failure. I was expecting to be featured at a panel scoring for Boone and Crocket. I was empty handed and heart broken.

I have lived in a land my whole life where dreams can become reality if your most treasured experience is stalking up to a bedded mule deer buck with horns so large you can only describe them as gothic. My eyes have seen things that make my heart race like a drum, my hands and knees shake uncontrollably, and things that I don’t even believe I’m witnessing are actual real life events. I have experienced things very few people on the earth will ever get the chance to do. I am truly blessed.

My journey to notch my tag on a truly world class mule deer has not been easy. I have never had the beginners luck syndrome like many stories we’ve all heard. I went to the school of hard knocks and learned some truly heartbreaking lessons the hard way. I have been brought to tears on one particular occasion while hiking back to my truck. I wanted it so bad.

I had never bowhunted so I sought some advice, “Gary, what kind of bow should I buy?”, “well about time young Benny… a Hoyt of course!”, “ok sounds good!”. I figured I would be able to walk out of the archery shop to stardom and record book fame. I was going to give Cody Robbins a real run for his money. Boy was I wrong. I know right now as I write this that I am eating crow so to speak, I should have listened a little closer, took a little more knowledge from my friends experience. In my mind, I was going to touch the arrow off on a booner the week after I walked out of that shop. Five years later I walked out of that shop with a completely different mindset and attitude towards archery hunting, and still with no fuzzy set of antlers on my wall. I was a failure in my own eyes.

A member of the Hitlist

Gary told me one time that if I was able to get one shot a year with the bow and arrow at a true 200” that I had a very successful year. At the time he told me this I politely said “ok” but I figured he had a big city bow hunter hangover and that he was crazy! He was so right. To this day that is the rule I live by. If I work my tail off all summer shooting arrows and scout the country every second I can and can get one chance, just to sit on one 200’ buck and come to full draw then my season was successful. It all comes down to that magical moment of truth. Learning how to handle that moment and deal with the failure is something that is quite hard to explain. It ripped at me all year. I could only see the score sheet and wasn’t appreciating the experience and the true beauty of fall. I was lucky to be out there and extremely fortunate.

Fast forward to year 3. A season that really stands out. The radio signal totally fades in my truck so I turn it off. I hear a cooler full of ice swishing around and windows down feeling the hot breeze on my face and I crest the hill on a bumpy old trail to the secret hot spot and see 30 mule deer bucks grazing on the lush summer crops. As I pop the spotting scope up and my mouth starts to salivate, I think of calling Bentley to line up an appointment and wonder how I will pay for my plane ticket to the Boone and Crocket Hall of Fame, the only person I can think to call is Gary. I stutter and yell and whisper all in the same sentence, I found the one! I spent well over 50 hours looking for this buck I named the “Mosquito” buck during hunting season. Like most rare animals they seem to vanish come the season opener. October 15, 2010 I found my Hall of Famer bedded down on the top of a hill trying to avoid the crazy mosquito hatch we were having. I grabbed my bow and hiked out to attempt a stalk. This was it I figured I can write this old boy’s walking papers, send him packing for greener pastures so to speak. I stalked up the hill with the grace of a lion and closed the gap to 60 yards. The old sway back booner rose to his feet and walked straight broadside and stopped to look at me. This was it. The one chance. For those of you that know that feeling I had that day I don’t need to explain but to others who are reading this it is an experience and a feeling like no other. Adrenaline crushes every cell in your body, you shake like a used washing machine and your brain totally changes. Shooting at the old round bale down in dads bale yard seems like a foreign place you’ve never been. I gave my best effort and ranged the deer at 64 yards. Drew my bow and took aim. Once at full draw, in that moment, the whole universe seems to stop, nothing matters, it’s just you and the deer. I shoot but am unsure of where my arrows are flying, just the whisper as they harmlessly fly by. I re-range and get the same thing, 63 yards. Mosquito just seems to be frozen, standing there, a million dollar Mona Lisa of the biggest buck on earth. Second shot same result and finally the third arrow misses its mark. I stand up and watch one of the largest typical mule deer bucks on earth bounce away.

At first I am stunned. I somehow seem to think the arrows must have gone right through him and I am having a bad dream. I step off the distance and he was standing there at 43 yards. My rangefinder was hitting the hill he was up against and not getting a reading on his head. The laser must have gone right through his 30 inch spread and not once touched him. I stood there as a wave of sickness washed over me, I knew right there how Paul McCallum must have felt, I blew a chip shot, a gimme. I picked my arrows up and they were sticking in the side of the hill within a group of a pie plate. This is an event I will never forget. I wanted it so bad, maybe too bad. I honestly shed a tear and was emotionally a wreck on the walk back to my truck. I couldn’t believe what had happened. I got back in the cab of my truck and I was in a daze, I didn’t appreciate the encounter, I was angry with myself and frustrated. I didn’t think it would ever happen. Why me I thought?

Bens Truly Colossal 2012 Saskatchewan Muley, 210 2/8 Gross

I went through the 2011 season empty handed once again. A well placed blind and a 220” buck wandering by ended up in my blind and trail cam being stolen and never seeing the ancient old 22 pointer ever again.

2012, it was game time again. 2 entire hunting seasons had past, my dreams of seeing the mosquito buck yanking lentils from the earth and rocking his head back to dust the mosquitos off his back had faded to the point that I believed he had died in the winter or been taken by a lucky hunter. I was wrong. I was shocked to find the deer on the same quarter section of land where I had seen him 3 seasons previous. He was happily nibbling on lentils, completely unaware of my presence. I was lucky, very lucky. I had learned a lot in the past 5 seasons and I would be fortunate to get within bow range of such an amazing animal. My attitude was different, I felt blessed to be in the presence of such an amazing creature. I was lucky to be where I was. I enjoyed that summer evening like no other and I had no thoughts of any record book or what spot he would be on my wall. My journey to get to this point had been the adventure of a lifetime that very few people get to experience; an epic story that I get to put on paper and share with friends, family and fellow hunters. Opening day of the Saskatchewan archery season my dreams became a reality. I was able to put all my failures and lessons learned to use and I was extremely overjoyed when my arrow found it’s mark. My very first phone call was “ring, ring, ring, ring, voicemail… Gary, I got him! Thanks so much for everything”!