Justin Hunold
10/18/2024
By the second week of October, you’ve usually made your mind up about what kind of hunt you’re after. Treestand or backcountry ridge? Brushy draw or open basin? But the years that taught me the most were the ones I didn’t choose. Last year, I went after both mule deer and whitetail—and had to learn how different those animals really are.
You can’t treat them the same. And you shouldn’t want to.
This piece isn’t just about antlers or tactics. It’s about mindset. Because the deer you’re chasing dictates how you move, how you scout, and what kind of hunter you are.
There’s a rhythm to bowhunting whitetails. It’s quiet and slow. Deliberate. You scout the trails where a buck might enter a food plot, then position just off the path, knowing your window may be three seconds—or none at all.
Whitetails are creatures of cover. They hug the edges, bedding in tight, unbroken thickets and moving in the seams. Bowhunting them means becoming invisible. It’s about understanding wind the way a sailor reads a tide—because one swirl, one step too loud, and they’re gone.
I remember a sit just after a light October rain. The woods were quiet, but not silent. Damp leaves softened sound. I watched a young buck ghost in from a brush line so thick I hadn’t even seen it was a travel route. He appeared, quartered hard, and vanished within thirty seconds. No shot. But it told me everything I needed: be quieter, sit longer, and trust the edge.
Bowhunting whitetail is built on:
Bowhunting mule deer is a different animal altogether—literally and metaphorically. You don’t wait for them to come to you. You find them. You glass until your eyes ache, then you move. You stalk through cactus and shale, often for a single shot that never materializes.
The first time I made a real stalk on a bedded mule deer, I was younger and still thought everything was about speed. I blew the stalk with the last 80 yards—rushed it, crested a rise too fast. He was gone before I even got to full draw.
Mule deer teach you how to slow down, but not in the same way as whitetails. You have to keep moving, but every move has to matter. They bed with visibility in mind. They live in the open. If you get within 40 yards of a mature buck, you earned it.
And if you blow it? You earn that too.
Bowhunting mule deer is about:
There’s this myth that rifle hunting is easy. That range makes everything simpler. That couldn’t be further from the truth—especially when you’re switching between whitetail and mule deer during firearm season.
Rifle season for whitetails often means pressure. More hunters. More movement. Deer pushed into thicker cover, moving differently than they do in bow season. You’ve got to adapt fast.
I’ve had some of my best rifle sits by treating them like archery hunts—tight setups, known escape routes, and a watchful eye on how deer are reacting to other people’s mistakes. You can sit a funnel 80 yards off a ridge and catch a pressured buck sneaking through at first light.
With a rifle, you’re not just shooting farther. You’re reading deer behavior under stress. You’re picking setups that let you react. You’re working smarter, not louder.
Mule deer, meanwhile, don’t just give up the game because you’ve got a longer reach. Sure, you can spot them from farther away. But they’re also seeing you from half a mile out.
Rifle hunting mule deer is a lesson in restraint. You glass a buck, maybe even range him at 400 yards—but the crosswind is ugly, the angle’s bad, and he’s feeding in a spot with no shot window. You wait. You plan. You move. You may never pull the trigger.
One of the hardest decisions I ever made was backing out of a 200-yard mule deer shot at last light because I didn’t like the angle. I walked off that ridge in California with a tag in my pocket, but I slept just fine.
Because rifle hunting mule deer isn’t just about hitting the target. It’s about knowing when to wait for a better one.
Whitetail hunting is close-in, cover-smart, and wind-obsessed. It’s about letting deer make the mistake.
Mule deer hunting is long-range, glass-heavy, and movement-based. It’s about minimizing your own mistakes.
Bowhunting each species sharpens your sense of presence and patience. Rifle hunting each builds decision-making under pressure.
Understanding those differences isn’t just academic. It’s the difference between showing up and filling a tag—or walking away with a story and some hard-won lessons.
When you commit to hunting both whitetails and mule deer, especially with both bow and rifle, you’re signing up for a lifetime of learning. You’re also forcing yourself to become the kind of hunter who doesn’t just look at terrain or gear lists—but at behavior, context, and timing.
And if you do it right—if you read the country, respect the deer, and learn from your own mistakes—you’ll never have a boring season again.