- Blog
- February 11, 2026
Mule Deer Memento
I made finding an antler a life goal since moving to Central Oregon. A shed antler is a memento of a specific snapshot in time. Finding an antler in the forest would be magical. I haven’t checked off that goal yet.
Naturally, my 4-year-old son found an antler last week. He came home from his grandparents’ and told me he had a surprise for me and asked me to close my eyes. He ran to the couch and shouted, “Ta-da, I found a deer antler!”
There wasn’t an antler in sight, so I thought he was playing with his imagination. But I shouldn’t have doubted him. There was a mule deer antler sitting in the garage waiting for me to check it out.
He found it in his grandparents’ yard while he was picking up pinecones. He said he thought it was just a tree branch when he first noticed it. But he was smart enough to check it out and realize that it was an antler.
My son inherited my wife’s wildlife spotting abilities. He got all of his best traits from her. I’m just hoping he finds that I passed something worthwhile on to him once he’s older.
Nevertheless, I’m extremely jealous of my 4-year-old. He accomplished one of my life goals without much effort.
In all fairness to myself, I haven’t exactly been trying hard to find an antler. I know some folks take shed hunting seriously. I’m not one of those folks. At least, I’m not one of those folks yet. I may be in the future.
I think it would be more exceptional to happen upon an antler by chance than by intention. That’s not to say that setting a goal and accomplishing it with purpose is inherently inferior. It’s just not as remarkable.
I do try to prepare for the situation while I’m out bikefishing, though. I always pack spare Voile straps in my bike bags in case I come across an antler.
There is a small brook trout creek that I enjoy fishing in the late summer and fall seasons. It’s a few hours’ bike ride up towards the mountains. Given work and family, I haven’t had the time to explore the region properly.
The creek flows near an elk spring season calving area. I may have to head up there earlier in the summer, after the elk have left for higher elevation, to increase my chances of stumbling across an antler in one of the meadows bordering the creek. I’m sure the shed hunters pick most of the are clean by then, but I may get lucky.
Two fall seasons ago, I spotted fresh elk tracks while I fished the creek. I took a break from catching beautifully colored, albeit non-native, brook trout and followed the elk tracks. The tracks led me across the creek and downstream along the far bank before I lost them in the long grass through the trees.
Wildlife tracks are another physical representation of a snapshot in time. But their existence is generally temporary. Tracks are more of a memory than a memento.
We haven’t figured out what to do with my son’s mule deer antler. It’s currently sitting on a shelf with some bike bags, which, honestly, is a good home for it in my book. I may string it up with some twine somewhere as a decoration.
We have a neighbor who uses an antler he found as a towel rack outside his self-built sauna. I’m not handy enough to build a sauna to use the antler as a towel rack. But it’s inspiring to see the utility blended with natural beauty.
