10-06-2010, 09:52 PM
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Join Date: Sep 2010
As promised a short version of the hunt story
I had hunted deer with my dad as a teen but never harvested a deer. After a few years I gave it up. In my late 20s dad had convinced me to get a tag again. We would be hunting a friends farm. Dad had been hunting there several seasons and was tagging deer every year. On our first trip there that fall to scout we spotted 5 deer and one real nice 10 pointer . Dad continued to scout and cut wood that fall and told me there was a real big deer in there. I'd ask how big and he'd just say BIG.
About a week before season I asked again as dad mentioned he had seen it again. He said it looked like it was carrying a brush pile on it's head. That had me real excited. Dad drew a doe only tag that season and tagged out the first morning. That left me alone for the remainder of the hunt. I hunted at least every morning from sun up till noon and would get back in the stand( no real stand just a comfortable tree with forks to sit in) around 2 PM.
The week went by real slow as I never spotted a single buck. Does were plenty most days running in groups of 3 to 9. Getting near the end of rifle season with 3 days left I didn't even see a deer for almost two days. On the next to last day none till late in the day.
Three does (which I'd seen several times that week) ran up under an next to my stand. I had just about had it with waiting and put a bead on the lead doe. I looked her over real good and really just wanted to put some venison in the freezer... But I let off as I remembered what dad had said about the big buck and that I had a good chance at getting him if I would just be patient and work for it...
Well I only had to wait a few seconds and the big guy showed up. He had snunk in on me and was trailing those does. He kept to the brush and trees and didn't offer a good shot for a while. I could see the does were getting jittery and were about to bolt so I reposition myself in the tree (broke a twig in doing so and shut my eyes... opened them ,yep still there whew) I got a opening for a neck shot, not a great place for a shot but was all I had. With the does getting ready to leave I decided to take the shot... I had told myself to only look at the shot not the size of the deer so I could concentrate, hard to do but I managed.
It seemed like forever but was probably only a second or two and he dropped in his tracks. Then I got 'buck fever' , started shaking all over. jammed my rifle trying to get a round in chamber just in case he jumped up and ran off.... then lost that round unchambering , getting gun ready to lower on my rope... then re jammed rifle on the ground trying to get it ready just in case... all said and done out of 5 rounds on hand I shot 1 lost three but got last round in chamber and ready , but it was never needed, he never moved after going down.I tried to size him up and started counting point... I'd get lost at 24. Three more times I tried to count but every time 24 was all I could get to with out losing count. At that point I decided to get dad to help me get him home. I finally got him counted out there , 29 scorable points...
The story as aired was finally presented as I always wanted , it was about my dad. He was the one who found that deer .He was the one that got me back deer hunting, he picked my 'stand' , he had the know-how to get this buck but he put it to me to do . Dad's been gone 14 years now and I miss his advice and companionship in the field but I will always be grateful for the time we spent together .
It's really about the hunt not the harvest.
Last edited by burley; 10-06-2010 at 11:02 PM.