The early morning air is damp with the smell of freshly-fallen red and yellow leaves. The first sounds of a new day begin faintly with a solo song from a nearby robin preparing to continue its southward journey. Suddenly, the leaves rustle just to your right and your heart skips a beat, your ears tune in and slowly you turn… "Where is he?… how close… careful, careful, slowly now… s-l-o-w-l-y…" You almost jump out of your seat—there he is: The biggest gray squirrel you've ever seen! "Oh, my Lord," you say under your breath, "I've got to relax… relax… relax, now, ol' buddy. Deep breath, settle down now, relax… relax." Gray light stretches out to forty yards where the mist on the mountain begins to swirl and move. The shape of the tree appears, then another, a stump, a log. Your eyes strain to see through the mist, and the dark shape takes form—horizontal, big—really, really big. Massive rump, muscled shoulders and swollen neck once separate, now one, support the weapons of battle—two sets of perfectly-matched, bark-shredding bone. Some with half dozen to a beam twelve high and two-thirds of yard wide. Staring right through you, rock solid he stands, his breathing is the only movement. You forget to breathe, your heart pounds in your ears so loud you know he can hear you. He stares—he knows you're in his place—and then he slowly takes a step, and then another, and another—forty yards closes to thirty-five, then thirty. He's coming in, oh Lord, he's coming in…

"No, don't stop the story here," you say? Well, how about you finish the story here at Misty Mountain yourself? Let it be your own hunt, your own memory. Let it be your heart you hear pounding.

Welcome to our Misty Mountain Trophy Hunting Preserve. Six hundred and ten acres of ridges, hollows, clearcuts, feed plots, and swamp bottoms. The big boys hang out here. "How big," you ask? How about 290 pounds, eleven points, double brows, two drops and a half dozen stickers? Some say they've see one they'll stand on grandpops grave and tell us he's over 300 pounds and 30 inches wide with an oak tree on his head. We won't second guess them because with 610 acres of turf to call his home its hard to know what exactly could be out there. You see, therein lies the magic and mystery of Misty Mountain. It's big and the deer are big.

Is that the faint sound of elk bugle deep down in the hollow you hear? Then another from up on the far ridge, a little deeper, as it trails off with a grunt. You guide whispers, "Let's make it a showdown," as he takes his bugle out, puts it to his lips and bellows out a challenge to the ol' boys. The ridge runner bugles back. You can hear the brush crack. There's a deep throated grunt to your left coming up the hollow. Your guide motions to get ready—you look left then right, and there they are. Not one, but two big bulls, ears laid back staring each other down. You can't breathe. You're within sixty yards of two monster bulls. You raise your rifle, swing right, then slightly left, then right again. "Which one, which one," you say under your breath. Then, another loud bugle, directly behind you. "Oh, Lord," you say, "another bull. How many are out there?" you ask yourself. Therein lies the mystery and magic of Misty Mountain. It's big and our bulls are big.

Misty Mountain offers you the opportunity to harvest one of these great animals or both at our 610-acre Trophy Preserve. Fully-guided, three-day one-on-one trophy hunts for big whitetails and big bulls. Check our hunt prices for the one that fits you and call now. Book early and reserve your hunt to get in the woods to see what's out there first.

Family Hunts

Trophy Preserve Wounded-Animal Policy

2010 Preserve Hunting Fees*