Photo by Bud Journey.

Sometimes things almost go right.

A prime example took place during a late-afternoon hunt in Zone B2, a portion of which has been called the “big green area” -- a cluster of six B zones in the northwest part of California.

I was waiting for something to happen on the edge of a mountain meadow where the grass met a stand of mature tan oaks laden with acorns. From my perch on a pile of boulders -- on the outside looking in, as they say -- I could hear acorns falling sporadically. What critters, I wondered, might be attracted to the feast?

Ordinarily, I do not like to wait in one spot for very long. But in this case, it seemed like the smart thing to do. Besides, I wasn’t bored. There were red-tailed hawks in the air, gray squirrels squawking in the trees and farther back in the woods, blue-gray scrub jays screaming their heads off.

It took a while, but finally it dawned on me that the jays were either fighting among themselves or pestering a critter of some kind.

Deer? Maybe. Bear? Could be!

Actually, it was three bears, probably mom and a pair of nearly grown cubs. All of them left the trees and wandered across the grassy meadow. They made quite a show -- until the sow crossed below me, caught my scent, and almost somersaulted downhill in her haste to depart.

Thirty minutes later, I was back in full relax mode when another odd sound got my attention. A slight breeze had caused several acorns to fall at once. Then I heard a faint noise, at first so subtle that I wondered if my ears were playing tricks on me.

After hearing the noise a few more times, or imagining I had, I was convinced that some an animal -- most likely a deer -- was scarfing acorns as they fell.

The sun was fading fast. I decided I had to try and see what was going on. As quietly as possible, this 200-pound biped half-crawled to a screen of brush and peered into the dark forest, which proceeded to erupt with the sound of a fleeing animal.

I jumped up just in time to see a big blacktail buck crossing the weedy meadow below me at about 75 yards.

My rifle was up quick enough, but my shot was too hasty. And the buck -- tall, wide antlers and all -- was history.

The amazing thing is that I managed to get close enough to the critter to actually have an opportunity to shoot. The depressing thing is that I missed out on getting one of the biggest blacktail bucks I ever put my sights on.

However, the fact that I was in that position in the first place proves that California, a state not known as a big-buck haven, has the potential to produce a very nice trophy when you least expect it.

CALIFORNIA CATCH-22
There is, of course, a Catch-22. This is California, after all. In this state there are six subspecies of mule deer, including blacktail deer, which are scored independently from the rest. In other words, all the other mule deer subspecies are lumped together in the same category. That means they all compete with Rocky Mountain mulies -- which reside only on the eastern edge of the state, and generally have the largest antlers of all Golden State deer.

Since only a small handful of Rocky Mountain mule deer from California have made the record books, the chances of another subspecies -- aside from purebred blacktails -- making the grade are slim, indeed.

However, that doesn’t mean that they lack anything as trophies. To me, a good representative specimen of any subspecies, be it California mule deer, burro mule deer, Inyo mule deer or southern mule deer, is as worthy and as rewarding as any other.