Well this will be a long diatribe for a mediocre deer. I haven’t hunted but maybe 5 times the last three seasons. As you know I lost my son from a seizure in 2019. In addition, my dad passed last December and my best friend, business partner, and hunting partner of 30 years passed then also at the age of 60 after a 3 year battle with cancer. It’s tough not having at least the option to talk about our hunts. I’ve just had no desire to work the farm , much less bother hunting.
I don’t say this for sympathy but to acknowledge for others that life does get in the way sometimes and only time can allow some type of healing. I know many of you have been or are going thru worse issues.
Any way i decided to hunt this past Wed after a snow/rain on Tues and I knew they would be moving well. Honestly I had to make my self leave that morning at 5, just had no desire to even go. But I knew it was needed. I hoped to see a 10 I’d spotted while throwing some wheat seed out one day. Headed to back ridge where I had located a heavy rub line. A cold North wind kind of day. Indeed I saw the 10 midmorning but he had broke a tine and I chose to see if he would make another year. Another couple shooters came by that I let pass.
That after noon went to the Nosebleed stand on the back ridge which sits on an oak flat bordered by very steep drops. I make two mock scrapes with my pee and climbed into the stand. NW wind was perfect for this stand. About an hour in to the sit, at 3:30, I hit the doe bleat and within minutes came 5 does. To the back of them was this 8 and I decided to take him regardless of size. He was looking to get some Tush with only that on his mind. As you know, its the mamma Does that you truly have to trick. With swirling winds they got nervous few times but settled munching on acorns. The buck worked the one scrape, then came down to the other 20 yds out. I had goofed in that I didn’t see a tree that would block his boiler when he worked the scrape. As he finished, he turned and I had a hard qrt away shot. I held behind the back rib and releasing, the Rage found its mark.
Although I heard him crash 50 yds away I waited 30 minutes worried it was only a liver hit and may take some time. No blood trail with no pass thru shot and this why I always take a bearing on last spot seen. Sure enough there he lay. As if in celebration two ear piercing F16s flew by scraping the treetops.
I sat feeling the heat escape his body reminiscing for a few minutes. I can’t remember what my wife wants from the store but I can remember every deer I’ve taken and where and who I was with. And have had some great hunts with some of the best guys in the world.
I am a lucky man.
I climbed to a ridge behind and above the one you see. Great stand w awesome views.
Leaves just refuse to fall this year.
My dominant self pee man made scrape from whence he was taken.
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Got to be the only explanation…….
