A trophy mule deer buck was bedded down at the base of a large formation of sandstone rocks. He was big. He was beautiful. He was relaxed. The distance was further than I prefer to shoot but I put up my gun, looked through the scope and watched him chew his cud for a few seconds. “Shoot! Shoot him!” “He’s too far, I need to get closer.” I crawled through the sage brush until I was out of sight of my hunting companion. I could still see the…