It took an hour or so for me to make my way around to the ridge. Coming in from the top the wind was blowing strong to help cover my approach and carry my scent away from the unsuspecting buck. When I could see the washout I knocked a Snuffer tipped arrow and slowly inched forward with tension on the string. Reaching the lip of the washout I peered over the edge. It was seven or eight feet to the bottom and undercut so I couldn't yet see the buck if he were still there. I slowly leaned out and could make out his antler tips a couple yards under my feet. At about the same time the buck either saw my shadow or sensed my presence as he exploded out of his resting place. I drew my bow, picked a spot and released the arrow in one fluid motion striking perfectly behind the right shoulder at about five yards distance.
The buck raced down the hill crashing in the brush to his right regaining his footing and dropping over the lip out of my sight. I ran around the washout to try and get another glimpse of him but saw or heard nothing. I called Cliff on the radio to see if he could see the direction the buck had gone. Cliff said he had looked up from the spotting scope and grabbed his binoculars as soon as the buck took off but couldn't find him again.
I walked a few feet down hill and found him 75 yards from where I had shot, piled up.
Cliff hunted hard the remaining few days but ended up never getting a buck within range.
We'll be back I'm sure.