One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned as a hunter is that success isn’t measured by the number of times you pull the trigger. It’s measured by the times you don’t.

That might sound strange coming from someone who has spent thousands of hours behind rifles. During my years in the military, I learned that marksmanship isn’t just about putting rounds on target. It’s about discipline. Every shot carries consequences, and the decision to shoot should never happen simply because you can. The same philosophy has followed me into the mountains every fall.

Mule deer are creatures of habit, especially during the early season. If a mountainside is producing quality forage, there’s a good chance the same bucks will return to feed there day after day. The exact route might change. They may arrive a little earlier one evening and a little later the next. Wind, weather, and disturbance all play a role. But quality groceries have a way of bringing deer back.

Members of the Great Basin Chapter join other conservation organizations to build two wildlife guzzlers in eastern Nevada.

Every January, I do the same thing.

I start looking at maps.

Long before applications are due, before arrows start flying or rifles come out of the safe, I’m already thinking about the coming season. Like many Mule Deer Foundation members, I’m usually applying as a nonresident. If I’m lucky, I’ll draw one buck tag. Maybe I’ll pick up a doe tag somewhere or have another opportunity later in the year, but the reality is that my entire mule deer season often comes down to one permit.