A Buck for My Girls…
Journey. Other than being the artist whose hit “Faithfully” supplied the music for the bridal party dance at our wedding reception, journey refers to “the travel or passage from one place to another”. As hunters we are on a never ending journey of highs and lows, twists and turns. My journey for a mature buck with a bow, one I felt I had earned once the hunt was over, has been on going since the 2001 season, with the past 6 seasons being the most intense. Since embarking on this quest, the lows have been numerous, with the twists and turns sickening at times. If there was ever a season for things to end on a high, I hoped more than ever it would the 2012 season. With my first child on her way at the end of December, I knew this would be my last season of intense, all consuming bow hunting and it was “now or never” going in to this season. When I picked up the phone to call my wife after the shot on Sunday, knowing she was opening gifts at her baby shower, I had tears in my eyes also knowing that the journey was over and a new one was about to begin. With any great journey, there comes an equally great story. I have been after my greatest story for years and it feels damn good to finally be putting pen to paper! This is the story of how my 2012 bow buck hit the dirt…
Saturday - November 3rd - AM Hunt
Going in to this season, I picked up a new farm that totals 260 acres and butts up to some tremendous ground for holding big deer. Along with our farm and the acreage behind my parent’s house, adding this new property to the mix gave me what I felt was as good a chance to harvest a respectable buck as I have ever had. At midday on Friday, I hung a stand in an area of the new farm that should have produced a good encounter or two. It was slow that evening, so I elected to leave the stand overnight and return in the morning with high expectations of having a good hunt the next day. Shortly after shooting light Saturday morning, I spotted a doe headed my direction and readied myself for the action that could follow. Soon after she had filtered through the timber in front of my stand, I heard footsteps coming from the thicket behind the stand and thought I was in business. To say I was disappointed when I realized it was another hunter would be an understatement. Trying to be respectful, I climbed down and made my presence known. After a friendly discussion with the neighbor who had every right to be there and had hunted this particular spot for years, I elected to pull out of the area and head to a new spot. Being frustrated with the growing “public private” feel to this new farm, it was now a toss up on where to go next, so I decided to head to “old faithful” as I’ve dubbed my parent’s 11.5 acres. The ground behind their house is not spacious by any means, but it is about as strategically placed piece of ground as you can get. It also seems to be the first spot where I see rutting activity on an annual basis, so I was confident that the move could produce given some luck.
By 10AM, I had settled in to my stand which overlooks an overgrown field, creek bottom, and oak flat that parallels the field. Around noon, I spotted a young doe that acted spooked as she ran across the field and disappeared in to the woods in front of my stand, only to reappear a short time later as she bounded back across the field. No less than two minutes behind her, was another young doe who also appeared to be spooked. My first thought was a coyote had spooked them as they came from the direction of the yips I had heard earlier in the morning. Then I got to thinking that a buck could be the reason they were on edge and he might be right behind them. I decided to wait 5 minutes, and then rattle if I had not seen any sign of a buck. The 5 minutes passed and there was no sign of the buck, so I grabbed the Knight & Hale Pack Rack and painted the image of two bucks fighting over a hot doe. Shortly after I finished my calling sequence, the same 2.5 year old 8-point I had rattled in last Sunday, came flying over the ridge in to the field looking for the source of the commotion. He eventually worked his way back in to the woods and it left me contemplating about what I should do for the evening sit. Knowing the tree I was in could produce at any moment, gave me the confidence to come back. But I still had Captain Jack and our farm on my mind. So I downloaded a coin flipping app on my phone and decided that best out of three would determine where I would spend my evening. Little did I know I was about to get the stroke of luck I needed as the stand I was in, won the coin toss. At 1PM, I broke for lunch, put on some dry socks, and readied myself for the evening hunt.
Saturday - November 3rd - PM Hunt
I took my time walking back to my stand and had a little fun with a couple of does on the way back. By 2:30, I was settled in the stand and readiy for what I hoped would be a great evening hunt. Around 3:30, I heard foot steps along the field edge in front of the stand. After grabbing the binos and spotting tines through some thick brush, I was able to get a brief glimpse of what I estimated to be a 140” 10-point as he scanned the field from the safety of the brush. After a few minutes, he slipped back in to the woods from the direction he came. This was an encouraging sign, but at the same time it began raising some concerns about the rest of the hunt. He came from the same direction where my scent was beginning to back draft and I was worried the next deer to appear from that area would be directly downwind. Knowing most of the good bucks I have ever seen on this property prefer that same area as their access to the field, I knew I was pushing it by continuing to hunt with that wind direction. Finally around 4:15, I decided that despite my faith in the Scent Smoker, it was not worth the risk of educating a mature buck given the limited amount of ground I have to hunt there. My ground blind in the bottom below my stand would have to suffice for the remainder of the evening.
Shortly after settling in to the blind, I caught movement on the hill above me and watched as two lone doe fawns worked down the hill towards my food plot. Knowing they have been with a big doe all season, I readied myself for a shot at momma. She never did show and the two fawns eventually worked down the bottom where they encountered another lone doe fawn. A short boxing battle broke out and I was enjoying the show when I caught movement on the ridge near my stand. I grabbed the binos and watched as one of the biggest deer I have seen in years reared up on his hind legs and thrashed the branches above a scrape. All I could do was shake my head knowing that he had just walked past the stand I was in less than an hour earlier, providing what would have been a 25 yard quartering away shot. (Finding his tracks along that trail later on confirmed this.) When I talk about the sickening twists and turns of this journey, his actions perfectly represent the constant bad luck I have had over the course of my bowhunting career! Last season, I was beginning to hate bowhunting and it warranted a change in perspective on my behalf, or I was going to hang it up and get a new hobby. This new found attitude allowed me to laugh off what had just happened and at the same time, it fired me up to come back the next morning. See over the years I have learned that any buck I see working that direction in the evenings, I know he will most likely return from that direction in the morning. On the way back to the truck that night, I couldn’t help but think tomorrow could be the day despite Saturday being the day that the Deer Gods kicked my butt!!!
