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By Glen Brewer, Jr.

As I reflect back on last year, I realize that family and friends are the most important thing in my life. I have a great Mom and Sis, who are hunters, too, but my Dad is a deer-hunting NUT. He knows many other deer hunters all over the place but one of the very best is Dr. George W. Vogt, D.V.M. of Houston, Texas. George is probably the most well-known expert in deer hunting that Dad has been lucky enough to get to know. In fact, he was even asked to help guide in Mexico, when I was only a couple of years old, back in the early 1980's. Since then, George and Dad have become good friends and as I grew up, George has taken a liking to me, and he was nice enough to ask me to come to his great, great Hunting Ranches in Nuevo Leon, Mexico, as his guests. The Laredo Hunting Club is the place where George spends much of his time during the year. Mr. Epatico Resendez, Jr. is the owner of these huge Ranches called the "San Antonio" and "La Azafroza." It is undoubtedly the best "Big Buck" place in all of Mexico and probably the world.

In the summer of 1996, George called and said he and Mr. Resendez were offering to let me come hunt that season, and it would be great if Dad and I could come down in October to help scout the Ranches and learn where the Bucks were located. Man, this is great; I was finally going to get to go deer hunting with George in Mexico!!

When Dad and I arrived, the Ranches were much more than I had expected. They were HUGE! And the finest looking brush country ranches I had ever been on. It was miles and miles of rolling hills covered with all of the best deer groceries and water troughs, plenty of senderos, and lots of tanks, and a real nice camp. Dad and I went to the many stands and sat in the truck and watched so many different bucks come and go from the feeders and water. We also saw many other animals that are native to the area. Coyotes, bobcats, coons, foxes, javillinas, rabbits by the hundreds, and quails, doves, ducks, geese, and hawks were always seen.

It was on one of these scouting trips on a hot Sunday morning about 11:50 AM that I saw the largest buck in all of Mexico! As Dad was following George in toward camp for lunch, I happened to look down a cross-fence on the adjoining ranch and there was a Monster! He had the most massive rack that you could imagine with four fist-sized drop lines and twelve points plus A+ a sticker points on most of his regular points; all of this on a 24" spread! When Dad stopped the truck and saw him, he really got excited, too, and said "Son, this is where we hunt in December and maybe we will catch him on our side of the fence, which are not boundaries to white tails." Of course, no one really believed he was that big but we KNEW!

Finally, Christmas came and after a huge, great dinner, Dad and I headed South, but the fog was so thick you couldn't see 10 yards, so we only made it Laredo that night so we got to camp at about noon on the 26th. George was glad to see us and we met all the other hunters and had great expectations of our hunt. We looked at pictures of all the recent bucks collected and I just knew "My Buck" was next. Although we hunted hard all afternoon, we only saw some younger bucks and does with fawns, but no Trophy. Since there was large party coming in the next night, we needed to get him on the 27th, so Dad and I were sitting in our crew-cab dually the next morning on the fence-line road where we had seen the Monster in hopes that he would be on our side of the fence.

Just after sunrise, Dad said, "There's a Buck!" I looked down the road and about 75 yards there stood a nice 8 point, so I tried to take him with my .257 Roberts which my Dad & Mom had gotten me for my birthday the year before. It is a Ruger M77 Ultra-Light a smaller version of my Dad's .270 Winchester. Since I had taken several deer and a black buck antelope with it, I was sure I could get this deer, but he had other ideas and decided to get away from our big black truck with the rifle barrel sticking out the window. Boy, was I upset! But, he came back out of the brush and was hurrying to cross the road when Dad said, There he is again! I'll try to stop him," and he whistled. The Buck almost stopped, I shot and he flinched and made a huge leap and jumped the fence. Dad jumped out, grabbed my rifle and hurried to the spot 204 yards down the road. He found hair and blood and saw where the Buck had run into the cactus and brush on the adjoining Ranch.

As Dad came back to report what he saw, he knew we would have to go get permission from the neighboring rancher to look for and hopefully recover my buck. Dad thought the shot was good, maybe a little far back but not gut-shot.

Now began one of the longest two hours of my life. I was disappointed that I had not dropped him in his tracks, because every animal I had ever shot was done on the spot. My Dad had asked me why I shot everything in the spine and I had replied, "Dad, I can't chase them, so I want them to drop! You see, I am paralyzed from just above the waist down because I was born with "Spina Bifida," which means my spinal cord is incomplete at the small of my back and I must be in a wheel chair or in a truck or van to go anywhere. But, I am real lucky because my Dad and friends like George and Mr. Reseneda have made ways for me to do what is my fun," and passion "DEER HUNTING."

As we were deciding what to do first, Chuy, the ranch foreman and three of his sons came along the road. Dad explained to them the problem, even though he doesn't speak Spanish and they don't speak English, they understood what to do! But, luck was with us, and the Ranch owner and his foreman came driving up to see if we had gotten the bid buck, because they knew we were hoping to get him and they had heard the shot and knew it was a hit. Since Dad had bought cattle from him before and we had not crossed the fence without permission, he let Dad and all of our crew and his men start following the blood trail. Since Dad had taken the rifle with him in case of a follow-up shot, he stayed several yards behind the tracker.

The blood-trail had stopped after about 40 yards, but the ranchers men performed the most amazing tracing job ever for about the next 700 yards! Of course, didn't know what was happening since, I was sitting back in the truck hoping and praying that they found my buck. It seemed forever until I was startled out of my wits from a very distant shot and unmistakable THUD! Boy, I hoped that was my rifle! I waited and waited and waited. Then, I was surprised to see my Dad walking toward me out the road waving his arms in celebration. As he drove down the fence, he told me that I had shot a fine 8 point that was big bodied and plenty healthy and heavy. And there he was! On our side of the fence, along with all the men.

Dad said, "It was the most amazing track and trailing job he had ever seen, because there were hundreds of other deer tracks over the entire area. But, two men just kept going until the buck was discovered in a raving about fifty yards in front of them. He jumped up and I was going to make a simple shot but CLICK! I had forgotten to put a round in the firing-chamber after crossing the fence. The tracker looked back with a knowing grin as I bolted another shell in, but the buck made it to the top of a very far hilltop covered in mesquite and stopped to look back at me slightly turned to his right. I was a prayer for a perfect shot and squeezed the trigger and to my amazement and all the other men too, the buck dropped.

"Thank you, Lord!" As I approached the deer, all the others were gathered around admiring him and wondering what kind of a rifle had been able to shoot through a 3 inch mesquite tree trunk and still kill the buck; instantly! We gutted him and dragged him to the nearest fence in a straight line as best we could and there he is!

George was elated as was everyone else in camp, especially ME. After many pictures and a great afternoon of re-telling the story, Dad and I crossed back into Texas at Laredo. We had one small problem getting back because the man at the cattle export pens wasn't there to dip my deer's cape, but he wasn't there, so Dad cut out the skull-plate and skinned it out completely. Then, we crossed with entire carcass, skinned completely, and the antlers with the tag. The U.S. officials said that no one had ever done it that way, But I was also the first wheel-chair hunter they had ever seen, also.

Now that I am home again, I am so thankful to my friends Mr. Rendez, George, and everyone at camp, too. And of course, a special thanks to my Dad for helping me to reach my goals at doing things just like everybody else, particularly!!!

DEER HUNTING!! Glenn Ray Brewer, Jr.