In the course of history, calling this story a saga is hyperbolic. But in the scheme of this season, it became one as the season drug on!
Entering my 23rd hunting season, I had built better storylines with older and bigger bucks, but none of them gave me the runaround like Kyle. As a spoiled Buckeye fan, I was part of the contingent of fans who felt like we could do better than Kyle McCord at QB and lamented the fact that he was our #1. It was a similar judgement with The Split Brow 8 or Splits as one neighbor called him. At the end of the day, he is a decent buck (QB), and a lot of people (schools) would be happy to have him - hence how The Split Brow 8 became Kyle.
As I was preparing to write this story, I went back through the trail cam pics from last year and it is worth noting that even as a two-year-old, I thought enough of him to save this photo:
I stopped cataloging pics of deer several years ago and my only historical recall at this point is finding them in my trail cam threads here, or looking through screenshots on my phone. At the time, I took note of his frame, mass, and the potential for growing split brows, all of which put him near the top of young bucks on the farm last year. When he showed back up this summer, he looked great but was #3 on the list right behind his running mate and another, truly mature buck.
By the time this picture was taken, both my #1 and #2 bucks had been killed and I was suddenly confronted with the fact that the biggest, oldest buck on the farm was a buck that in the past, I’d have passed.
At this point, I shifted focus to a droptined buck behind my house and it wasn't until I met the new lessors from PA next door that I started to consider shooting Kyle myself. I hoped that I could get my oldest daughter on him, but with her budding social life and an exhaustive list of extracurriculars, getting her in the woods is a chore these days. When I met the PA guys, it was clear Kyle - AKA Splits - would not survive on their side of the fence and after a few conversations with my neighbors to the east, it was clear he wouldn’t survive on their side either. After the droptine buck got killed behind my house, Kyle was the only buck I had to hunt and so our short, but sweet saga began.
If I being honest, when I pulled this card and watched this video, I was impressed...
Then I watched this one and was less impressed
Regardless of how I felt in comparison to past #1s, it was time to have gratitude for the opportunity to chase a good buck and I quickly got with the program. What is remarkable about Kyle compared to past bucks is how much territory he covered. During gun week, I had him on camera within an hour of dark 5 of 7 days and he showed up on all 8 cams during the week. From October 25 to the gun opener, he daylighted on 6 different cams, and 3 of those times, I was on the farm but in a different stand. I have never had a buck that active and he was proving to have a touch of Teflon Don about him. The whole neighborhood knew who he was, he was incredibly visible, and yet he remained untouched.
The night I confirmed he survived gun season, I looked at the forecast and realized the conditions would be right to get him killed before the bonus season. I’ve suspected he was bedding to the east of our farm all fall. To confirm this, I moved a cell cam to a pinch point where a drainage meets a ridgetop field. Within two days, I had him on cam heading to/from good bedding. The next issue I had to address was the fact that he kept no discernible pattern. With the rut over and food now the priority, I knew what I needed to do and I broke protocol: I put a corn pile on our oak ridge. I think part of his irregular ways was him cruising the neighborhood to check for does at all the available bait piles around us. I added a gravity feeder on the south end of the farm at Kaydence’s spot in early November, but he’d only eaten from it one time. That feeder is 650 yards from the pinch near what I assumed was the southern end of his range. So I made it much easier for him and started a pile within 100 yards of the pinch at midday on the 7th. At 6:59A on the 8th, he hit it for the first time before heading off to the NE to bed.
He daylighted in the pinch on the 11th just before 5P and eventually hit the bait, which is 30 yards NE of my stand, 15 minutes later. He hit the bait with 2 minutes of shooting light on the 12th but didn't go through the pinch to get there. Both nights, he came from the east and the does were coming from the west, so I knew things could get tense if the whole neighborhood showed up at the same time. I was sitting at my desk Wednesday morning when the last picture of the morning hit my phone:
Perfect! He was headed to bed right where I needed him to. It was going to be cold. And as it would happen, I was able to clear up my schedule to get in the woods that afternoon. The very next picture on the camera that day would be this one...
Just after 5, I heard a single deer come off the ridge to the east and stop in the bottom. The wind was about as bad as it could have been from 3:30-5, but it had laid down and the thermals had taken over by 5. Unfortunately, I think some of my scent had pooled up in the bottom or things might have been quick and much less dramatic.
Around 5:15, more deer came off the same ridge and this time, I could see it was the group of does. It was obvious they were on edge and the lead doe started pacing back and forth. I grabbed my binos and slowly eased them up. I found her, gauged her body language, and then started to scan down the ravine...... BAM! - there he was! Seeing that frame laid back with him staring up the hill right through my soul is an image now burned into my memory!
With the whole group on edge, I muttered to myself "This isn't going to work". With shooting light ending at 5:33P and him not having moved for 20+ minutes, I was certain a parade of white, flagging tails would soon ruin my chances. Slowly, the lead doe began working a half circle to try and get my wind. She disappeared behind a clump of brush and when she did, it pulled him up out of the ravine where I could get a solid look at him. After looking him over well enough to know there was no turning back, I put the binos down and slowly slipped my bow off the hanger. As she got within feet of my scent stream, she turned and quartered toward the bait. At 25 yards, she stopped and stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. I was able to check my phone for the last time at 5:31P and as soon as I slid it back in my pocket, she dropped her head, walked to the bait, and started feeding. As soon as she took her first bite, he immediately started retracing her steps. He pulled up alongside her at 30 yards, stared straight ahead towards the ridgeline where the coyotes were howling, and as he lowered his head to take his first bite, a red, lighted nock zipped through the fading light...
THWACK!!!
I knew I'd hit him hard, but was instantly worried about penetration since it wasn't a pass-through. He ran towards the pinch and within seconds, massive crashing ensued, followed by a deafening silence. After sending a few texts and making a call to the girls, I got down to check the arrow and was immediately greeted by a massive blood trail. After 75 yards, there laid Kyle piled up in the top of a downed maple.
I took the time to run home, grab the older two girls, and brought them back to be a part of the process. This is the first recovery they have been on with me and it made for a special moment. I'm compulsively driven to do things at a high level and to be successful in my pursuits, which has its pros and cons. The pros include success and fulfillment. The cons include failure and frustration. It's not an ingratitude to want to do better, it's a sign of high expectations. In the end, I am incredibly grateful for this buck. The goal is always to kill the biggest and oldest buck on our farm, and this year, that was Kyle. I recognize my good fortune and appreciate many of you on this forum for keeping me humble in my pursuit of a state of perfection that will elude me until my death!
Old dad ate a tag last year, so young Kami had yet to see her first buck in person. She loves to grab my phone and say "buck", and look at pictures with me. I'd be surprised if she doesn't end up hunting right alongside her "da-da" when the time comes!
It took 15 years to kill a buck on The Farm w. No Name and this makes 4 in 5 years. Interestingly enough (to me at least), in my 23rd season, I killed my 10th buck with my 2007 Switchback XT. At this point, I may have to keep it around for another year because it certainly seems to have found its stride!
Entering my 23rd hunting season, I had built better storylines with older and bigger bucks, but none of them gave me the runaround like Kyle. As a spoiled Buckeye fan, I was part of the contingent of fans who felt like we could do better than Kyle McCord at QB and lamented the fact that he was our #1. It was a similar judgement with The Split Brow 8 or Splits as one neighbor called him. At the end of the day, he is a decent buck (QB), and a lot of people (schools) would be happy to have him - hence how The Split Brow 8 became Kyle.
As I was preparing to write this story, I went back through the trail cam pics from last year and it is worth noting that even as a two-year-old, I thought enough of him to save this photo:
I stopped cataloging pics of deer several years ago and my only historical recall at this point is finding them in my trail cam threads here, or looking through screenshots on my phone. At the time, I took note of his frame, mass, and the potential for growing split brows, all of which put him near the top of young bucks on the farm last year. When he showed back up this summer, he looked great but was #3 on the list right behind his running mate and another, truly mature buck.
By the time this picture was taken, both my #1 and #2 bucks had been killed and I was suddenly confronted with the fact that the biggest, oldest buck on the farm was a buck that in the past, I’d have passed.
At this point, I shifted focus to a droptined buck behind my house and it wasn't until I met the new lessors from PA next door that I started to consider shooting Kyle myself. I hoped that I could get my oldest daughter on him, but with her budding social life and an exhaustive list of extracurriculars, getting her in the woods is a chore these days. When I met the PA guys, it was clear Kyle - AKA Splits - would not survive on their side of the fence and after a few conversations with my neighbors to the east, it was clear he wouldn’t survive on their side either. After the droptine buck got killed behind my house, Kyle was the only buck I had to hunt and so our short, but sweet saga began.
If I being honest, when I pulled this card and watched this video, I was impressed...
Then I watched this one and was less impressed
Regardless of how I felt in comparison to past #1s, it was time to have gratitude for the opportunity to chase a good buck and I quickly got with the program. What is remarkable about Kyle compared to past bucks is how much territory he covered. During gun week, I had him on camera within an hour of dark 5 of 7 days and he showed up on all 8 cams during the week. From October 25 to the gun opener, he daylighted on 6 different cams, and 3 of those times, I was on the farm but in a different stand. I have never had a buck that active and he was proving to have a touch of Teflon Don about him. The whole neighborhood knew who he was, he was incredibly visible, and yet he remained untouched.
The night I confirmed he survived gun season, I looked at the forecast and realized the conditions would be right to get him killed before the bonus season. I’ve suspected he was bedding to the east of our farm all fall. To confirm this, I moved a cell cam to a pinch point where a drainage meets a ridgetop field. Within two days, I had him on cam heading to/from good bedding. The next issue I had to address was the fact that he kept no discernible pattern. With the rut over and food now the priority, I knew what I needed to do and I broke protocol: I put a corn pile on our oak ridge. I think part of his irregular ways was him cruising the neighborhood to check for does at all the available bait piles around us. I added a gravity feeder on the south end of the farm at Kaydence’s spot in early November, but he’d only eaten from it one time. That feeder is 650 yards from the pinch near what I assumed was the southern end of his range. So I made it much easier for him and started a pile within 100 yards of the pinch at midday on the 7th. At 6:59A on the 8th, he hit it for the first time before heading off to the NE to bed.
He daylighted in the pinch on the 11th just before 5P and eventually hit the bait, which is 30 yards NE of my stand, 15 minutes later. He hit the bait with 2 minutes of shooting light on the 12th but didn't go through the pinch to get there. Both nights, he came from the east and the does were coming from the west, so I knew things could get tense if the whole neighborhood showed up at the same time. I was sitting at my desk Wednesday morning when the last picture of the morning hit my phone:
Perfect! He was headed to bed right where I needed him to. It was going to be cold. And as it would happen, I was able to clear up my schedule to get in the woods that afternoon. The very next picture on the camera that day would be this one...
Just after 5, I heard a single deer come off the ridge to the east and stop in the bottom. The wind was about as bad as it could have been from 3:30-5, but it had laid down and the thermals had taken over by 5. Unfortunately, I think some of my scent had pooled up in the bottom or things might have been quick and much less dramatic.
Around 5:15, more deer came off the same ridge and this time, I could see it was the group of does. It was obvious they were on edge and the lead doe started pacing back and forth. I grabbed my binos and slowly eased them up. I found her, gauged her body language, and then started to scan down the ravine...... BAM! - there he was! Seeing that frame laid back with him staring up the hill right through my soul is an image now burned into my memory!
With the whole group on edge, I muttered to myself "This isn't going to work". With shooting light ending at 5:33P and him not having moved for 20+ minutes, I was certain a parade of white, flagging tails would soon ruin my chances. Slowly, the lead doe began working a half circle to try and get my wind. She disappeared behind a clump of brush and when she did, it pulled him up out of the ravine where I could get a solid look at him. After looking him over well enough to know there was no turning back, I put the binos down and slowly slipped my bow off the hanger. As she got within feet of my scent stream, she turned and quartered toward the bait. At 25 yards, she stopped and stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. I was able to check my phone for the last time at 5:31P and as soon as I slid it back in my pocket, she dropped her head, walked to the bait, and started feeding. As soon as she took her first bite, he immediately started retracing her steps. He pulled up alongside her at 30 yards, stared straight ahead towards the ridgeline where the coyotes were howling, and as he lowered his head to take his first bite, a red, lighted nock zipped through the fading light...
THWACK!!!
I knew I'd hit him hard, but was instantly worried about penetration since it wasn't a pass-through. He ran towards the pinch and within seconds, massive crashing ensued, followed by a deafening silence. After sending a few texts and making a call to the girls, I got down to check the arrow and was immediately greeted by a massive blood trail. After 75 yards, there laid Kyle piled up in the top of a downed maple.
I took the time to run home, grab the older two girls, and brought them back to be a part of the process. This is the first recovery they have been on with me and it made for a special moment. I'm compulsively driven to do things at a high level and to be successful in my pursuits, which has its pros and cons. The pros include success and fulfillment. The cons include failure and frustration. It's not an ingratitude to want to do better, it's a sign of high expectations. In the end, I am incredibly grateful for this buck. The goal is always to kill the biggest and oldest buck on our farm, and this year, that was Kyle. I recognize my good fortune and appreciate many of you on this forum for keeping me humble in my pursuit of a state of perfection that will elude me until my death!
Old dad ate a tag last year, so young Kami had yet to see her first buck in person. She loves to grab my phone and say "buck", and look at pictures with me. I'd be surprised if she doesn't end up hunting right alongside her "da-da" when the time comes!
It took 15 years to kill a buck on The Farm w. No Name and this makes 4 in 5 years. Interestingly enough (to me at least), in my 23rd season, I killed my 10th buck with my 2007 Switchback XT. At this point, I may have to keep it around for another year because it certainly seems to have found its stride!
Last edited:
