Vines and Tines: Hunting Blacktail in the Orchards of California

Dawn came over the vineyards, the air fresh and crisp and carrying just a faint hint of the distant Pacific Coast. I checked the chamber of my rifle and set it in guide Ryan Newkirk’s pickup. In every direction stretched vast fields of verdant green vines loaded with grapes. Perfectly ordered rows roller-coasted over the undulating hills. I felt like I was hunting in Paradise—a far different experience than the hardcore backcountry territory I usually hunt.

Full morning light was upon us as we climbed into the truck, dropped it into gear and slowly motored away from Steinbeck Vineyards’ headquarters. Turning into a lane bordered on either side by grapes, we eased up the road, looking carefully down the length of each row of vines. I was astonished at how difficult it was to spot the vineyard deer. They blended into the leaves and shadows of the plants like apparitions.

This was going to take some practice before I’d be able to effectively spot deer in such an environment. I focused on the rows of vines, trying my best to pick the elusive animals out of the early-morning shadows.

THE QUARRY

As you might’ve surmised by the setting, this was no ordinary deer hunt. I was on a quest to harvest a Columbian blacktail, a smaller cousin to the mule deer. Blacktails live along the Pacific Coast, from Central California up into Southern British Columbia. They can be difficult to hunt due to the habitat they frequent. Big timber, heavy brush and dripping rainforest are among their favorite haunts (not to mention vineyards), and it can be a challenge to dig up a good buck.

Adding to the challenge is the fact that much of Columbian blacktail’s range is private property. Access to good private hunting areas can be difficult to obtain, and public-land areas tend to be heavily pressured. It takes time to ferret out a good hunting spot for blacktails, and time was one thing I didn’t have. I was on a quest to take all fiveAmerican deer species in one fall, and it was already go time. I picked up the phone and called Linda Powell at Mossberg & Sons. I knew that she’d hunted blacktails before and might have some advice for me.

As luck would have it, Linda and several other folks from the hunting industry were headed to California the very next day to hunt blacktails at one of her favorite destinations—Steinbeck Vineyards. Linda said there had been a last-minute cancelation, and she thought I could probably join their group. She made a call, then an introduction, and 36 hours later I pointed the hood of my old F350 westward. I was California bound.

Blacktop hummed beneath my tires as I dropped a gear and began the descent into the coastal valleys around Bakersfield. Golden slopes dotted with black cattle and massive oak trees captivated me as I journeyed coastward. California is and always has been a spectacularly beautiful state. Say what you will about the Golden State’s urban centers; rural California is downright lovely. I enjoyed the drive, remembering why I had often opined to anyone who would listen that if this were the 1800s, I would point my wagon westward with the rest of those who sought a fruitful life in this part of the country.

The sun shown through a ruddy haze above the horizon as I made the last turn down a gravel drive and parked at Steinbeck Vineyards’ headquarters. The soft green glow of the surrounding grapevines seemed to combine with the radiant gold of the setting sun. I parked under the canopy of a large tree and walked slowly toward the old ranch house that served as deer camp. This was far from my usual stomping grounds, but already I felt at home. This was American farm country.

STEINBECK’s ROOTS

Ryan Newkirk, manager of Steinbeck and head hunting guide, sports a pioneer heritage as legitimate as covered wagons and longhorn cattle. His ancestors settled the region where their vineyard now lies in 1884. From the start they farmed grain, cattle and grapes for wine. Now, some seven generations later, Ryan runs the grape farming operation at Steinbeck. His gracious mother Cindy hosts jeep tours and wine tastings, and grandfather Howie (founder of Steinbeck Vineyards in 1982) provides council and grape-farming wisdom earned by years in the business. One of their lovely fields is more than 50 years old, the Cabernet Sauvignon vines still producing voluptuous fruit bursting with burgundy juice. It’s the first field that Howie planted a half-century ago, and is meticulously nurtured and protected by the family. I’m not a wine drinker, but it was abundantly clear: Steinbeck grapes and the wines they produce are top shelf.

A GROWING NUISANCE

Deer are abundant in the lush Salinas Valley, where Steinbeck is located, and they browse heavily on the grape leaves, leaving massive damage in their wake. Ryan pointed out areas in their fields where deer had completely stripped the vines of foliage and fruit. Many grape fields on neighboring farms sported high deer fencing around them, effectively preventing the deer from accessing and damaging their plants. I asked Ryan why he didn’t fence his own fields, and he responded that he didn’t agree with removing the deer from their native range. He approves of balance and is an interested participant in the conservation of local wildlife. A significant problem has developed, though, due to more and more fields being fenced.

As local deer are forced from their home fields, they move to unfenced vineyards, and in recent years Steinbeck fields have experienced a drastic increase in deer numbers. The blacktails become badly overpopulated, and something is going to have to be done to alleviate the problem. Ryan and his family are intelligent, innovative people, and while they don’t yet have all the answers to this problem, I’ve no doubt they will weather this storm in good fashion, and vineyards and wildlife alike will emerge the better for their stewardship.

As we hunted slowly along the ordered rows of grapes, we discussed potential solutions, including state involvement. California could make antlerless deer tags available and provide incentive or compensation to vineyard owners who leave their fields open. There is also great opportunity for conservation organizations, such as the Mule Deer Foundation, to become involved. A long-term conservation easement or lease could ensure fields would remain unfenced and available to local wildlife, as well as protected from urban development. Fields would stay productive. Farmers, sportsmen and wildlife alike would benefit.

For now, Steinbeck Vineyards continues to produce first-class grapes and wine. They also provide a stellar Columbian blacktail hunting experience. Hunters lodge in the historic ranch headquarters, enjoy abundant boutique wines and dine on tender venison grilled to perfection. The fields are teeming with deer, and stalking opportunities are frequent. It can be difficult, though, to find a mature buck from among the vines. Once a buck is mature, he seems to lose his sense of humor, and he’s lived long enough to acquire significant evasive skills.

INTO THE VINES

Our hunt was to be guided two-on-one, meaning that two hunters would travel and hunt with one guide. I was pleased to be assigned to Ryan; it would give me ample opportunity to quiz him about the history of the area, the deer and their habits and farming in the coastal regions of California. Ken, another hunter with the Mossberg group, rounded out our crew. Ryan asked which of us would be shooting first, and I volunteered to play second fiddle to Ken. The gesture was mostly selfish. This way, I figured, I would get to spend more time hunting and learning about these blacktails. I’d never hunted or even seen one before this trip. I wanted to soak it all in.

Dawn of the first day found us motoring slowly along a field edge, peering into its depths for glimpses of deer. Time and again, Ryan pointed out the shadowy forms of blacktails feeding or resting under the vines, and finally I began to get the hang of spotting the little deer. I was having a blast watching them play among the rows. Even with so many deer, finding a mature buck and getting a good shot at him was not going to be easy. These deer are masters of evasion, and with one jump in either direction, they could be out of sight.

Around mid-morning, after spotting a couple groups of deer that gave us the slip, we managed to stalk across rows and into range of a good buck. Ryan set the sticks, and one good shot later, Ken had his deer. Off to the skinning shed we went to hang the fresh venison. It wasn’t long before we were back among the vines, searching for another mature buck, when Ryan spotted one.

This buck lay in the late-morning shade of the grapes, his head folded back along his side in slumber. We couldn’t discren exactly what his headgear looked like, nor how old he was, but it was evident that he was a shooter. There was a full 4-by-4 complement of tines plus at least one extra—somewhat rare among blacktail bucks. No shot opportunity presented itself, as he was tucked into a fold in the terrain and his vitals were covered. Ryan’s shooting sticks in hand, I crawled toward the buck, staying low and under the shade of the grapevine row. I needed to top the low rise between us before I would have a shot. Slowly, I inched forward.

I got as close as I dared to get, about 50 yards from the sleeping buck. The shooting sticks were set and I was ready, but still there was no shot. The deer’s hips were toward me, obscuring his vitals. I could have shot through them—the Winchester Copper Impact bullet certainly would have penetrated to the vitals—but it wasn’t a shot I liked. Then the buck raised his head, sensed that something wasn’t right, and in two nimble jumps was gone across the rows and out of sight. All that remained was dust spiraling through the sunrays that penetrated the vines. As I watched it, I smiled. I wasn’t ready to be done hunting yet.

Our afternoon hunt involved more cat-and-mouse through the vineyard with the deer. The other team of hunters had seen several good bucks, but didn’t find success until late afternoon. They located and harvested the deer I’d stalked in the morning, a slightly young but really cool 4-by-5. Dusk fell over the green fields, and we pointed our vehicles toward headquarters and the promise of a hot meal. It had been an action-packed first day of hunting that surpassed my expectations.

TRY, TRY AGAIN

Day two opened much like the first, stalking multiple groups of bucks through the fields of grapevines. Ryan was hoping to find one particular buck—a very wide 2-by-3—and we searched farther and deeper across the farm, checking spots and corners we hadn’t yet seen. Mid-afternoon found us circling back into the core of the farm, row-checking a hilltop field. Suddenly, just 40 yards distant, a big buck stood, staring wide-eyed at us over his shoulder. Turning, he trotted over the crest of the hill and vanished. I’d seen enough to know he was old and heavy-antlered and sported four points and a brow tine on at least one side. This was the best buck we’d seen yet. We grabbed binos and the spotting scope and snuck into position to glass the side of the hill where the buck had disappeared.

An hour and a half later, we were still glassing. We’d spotted eight or 10 bucks and a plethora of does, but not the deer we were looking for. Ryan led us off the hill and back toward the truck. This buck was smart and old and knew how to evade pressure, but Ryan hadn’t grown up on this farm without learning a thing or two himself. Quietly loading into the truck, we eased around the base of the hill and toward a different field a couple hilltops away. Dusk was upon us, and there stood the buck, feeding between rows and silhouetted against the dusk-lit sky. I could have killed him there at 90 yards, but there’s no telling where my bullet would have landed with nothing but sky to stop it. We had to try to change the angle on this old Houdini deer.

Hurrying through the twilight, we backed off the hill and circled 180 degrees. Shooting sticks in hand, we stalked down the rows toward the group of deer, using the grapevines for cover. Again, we closed to less than 100 yards. Ryan set the sticks and I found the buck in my crosshairs. I had him dead to rights, but once again the deer was skylined, and this time I could see the buildings and silos of Steinbeck headquarters in the distance directly behind him. Once more, I had no ethical shot. I looked around desperately. Just behind and to our left, a hill rose sharply.

“What if we climb that hill?” I whisper-shouted to Ryan. “My shot would be longer but I’d have a downward angle and should have a safe backstop for the bullet.”

Racing the failing light, we fell back through the vines and circled the steep little hill, coming over the crest and searching again for the deer. They were there, still feeding across the rows of grapes. I sat down this time, my rifle steady over the shortened cross-sticks. The distance was right at 200 yards. The bucks slowly fed across the rows. Finally, the big, old one offered a shot. I settled the crosshairs and pressed the trigger. The deer kicked and was gone, disappearing into the vines.

The light of my headlamp danced like some dervish in the darkness, leading me down a seemingly endless row of grapevines. We’d spread out to look for the buck, paralleling each other down the long rows. A spot of tan and white under the light of my lamp brought a rush of adrenaline, and there was my buck, cleanly harvested with one shot. My hunting buddies gathered round and we gave thanks, took photos and re-told the story as the last light faded over the Pacific.

POTENT COMBO

• The rifle and load used to take a Columbian blacktail.

To hunt in California, you are required to use ammo loaded with a lead-free projectile. That’s okay; there are plenty of good copper/alloy options available. 
Time was short, but a bit of shopping turned up exactly what I wanted: three boxes of 150-grain .308 Winchester Copper Impact ammo. With a muzzle velocity of 2,810 fps, these loads hit hard, penetrate deeply and expand aggressively—qualities ideal for these vineyard deer.

The rifle I chose for this hunt was a compact and handy Mossberg Patriot chambered in .308 Win. For stalking through vines and crawling along the rows, this choice proved excellent. Most shot opportunities were expected to be 200 yards or less, so I zeroed the rifle two inches high at 100. After smacking a vital-sized steel plate several times at just over 180 yards, I felt good about my setup.

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• This article was featured in the August 2025 issue of Game & Fish magazine. Click to subscribe.

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