roysclockgun
Handloader
- Dec 17, 2005
- 736
- 0
Last week I reported seeing a very decent eight point buck on the property that I hunt in Georgia. As I reported, I passed on that buck, after having him dead in my scope and only needing to tweak my trigger finger that little bit. But, I had promised to get home to Florida and take Lady Storm up to Maryland to see the full display of fall foliage.
Most of us know that to keep a "full time night woman", as was spoken of by Bear Claw, one has to bend and do what they want, on occasion. So, after shooting up I95 and showing her the turning trees in Pa. and Md., I careened back down I81 and into Tennessee, across South Carolina and back down I95 driving faster than I should have been going, simply because I knew that the bucks were beginning to chase doe around the camp and I wanted to get back there.
I have only had two passions in life. One of them is for deer hunting, and the other is not! She got angry at the speed at which I emptied the car and packed my truck to go to Georgia, but no tears were going to delay me any longer from my mission. "You could not wait another second to get into the woods, could you?" She was right!
Getting into camp on Friday afternoon, I found four other club members already there, ready to go out for the evening hunt. I opened up my camping trailer to air out and headed for my shooting tower. My spot is one of the deeper set stands, where I cannot hear traffic or much of anything else. I like it that way. Setting in for about 30 minutes, I began to tickle the antlers and in a few minutes. a spike buck entered the feed plot, up wind from me.
I have to admit, I enjoy watching deer about as much as anything. Only a mature buck that I am ready to take gets my blood up more than just watching deer when they have no idea that I am in their digs.The spike acted confused for a few moments, I suppose wondering what had happened to the sparring bucks that he had heard. He then nibbled on a turnip that he pawed up and walked off.
Right before dark a doe and her offspring from this year, came along to feed on the plot. I watched them until full dark. I then grunted a few times and they walked off.
Saturday's hunt and Sunday morning's hunt were more of the same. I brought in a fork horn buck on Saturday by rattling, but nothing more than a few other antlerless deer came along.
Sunday afternoon I got to the stand at 2:00 P.M. The time had changed and it would be dark at 6. According to the moon, minor movement was scheduled for early afternoon so I wanted to be there. At around 3:00 P.M. we had a steady, but light rain. Thanks to club members who came before me, my shooting tower had a roof and I stayed dry and watchful.
At around 4:30 the rain let up and the breeze was light. By 4:45, I knew that I had just over one hour, before dark. I spotted the movement inside the dense pines, out beyond the clear cut, over which I was looking. Getting the binoculars up, I had fleeting glimpses of two doe, followed by two bucks. The one buck was decidedly larger in body and antler.
Try as I may, I could not get a clear shot at the larger buck. The trees and other foliage gave me only clear shots lasting less than one second. The deer were at 176 yards. I swung the scope slightly ahead of the deer and saw one slash of an opening where they should cross, before disappearing for good. I held on the opening and a pair of antlers appeared. The buck had turned slightly left and I pulled the crosshairs back a little more, behind his right elbow, so as to lance the bullet diagonally, into his heart.
At the crack of the 280Rem cartridge, the buck tumbled forward and thrashed for a few seconds. The other three were, of course, long gone.
Making my way to the fallen buck, I saw that I had killed the smaller buck. The club has an eight point or better rule, with antlers extending beyond the ears. During the two past seasons, I had taken acceptable eight pointers, plus some doe in order to give venison to my daughter and her family, as they really do enjoy having venison for table fare.
I felt bad about dropping the smaller buck, but then I only had that split second to make my decision.
The Nosler 120 grain Ballistic Tip bullet broke through one rib going in. It then sliced off the top of the heart, making it look like it had been cut half way through with a very high speed chain saw. Going on, it smashed three ribs, making a hole that my fist fit through. Then it broke the deer's upper left leg and kept going.
Thus far I have taken a number of wild pigs, whitetails, mule deer and a couple pronghorns with that bullet. None of those animals did more than thrash about a bit, after going down. I will stick with that bullet.
When I got back to camp, I fessed up and all four pards agreed that I had made a mistake that any of them would have made in my circumstances. We took the golf cart out to collect the deer.
Upon skinning him, we saw his stomach was loaded with bright green grasses, turnips and corn. He was full and ready to lay up, in order to digest his meal.
I can take one more buck and three doe off the club lease, after this one was counted. I have to make sure that the next buck is bigger and qualifies, by club rules.
By Friday afternoon, I want to be back in the woods.
Steven L. Ashe
Most of us know that to keep a "full time night woman", as was spoken of by Bear Claw, one has to bend and do what they want, on occasion. So, after shooting up I95 and showing her the turning trees in Pa. and Md., I careened back down I81 and into Tennessee, across South Carolina and back down I95 driving faster than I should have been going, simply because I knew that the bucks were beginning to chase doe around the camp and I wanted to get back there.
I have only had two passions in life. One of them is for deer hunting, and the other is not! She got angry at the speed at which I emptied the car and packed my truck to go to Georgia, but no tears were going to delay me any longer from my mission. "You could not wait another second to get into the woods, could you?" She was right!
Getting into camp on Friday afternoon, I found four other club members already there, ready to go out for the evening hunt. I opened up my camping trailer to air out and headed for my shooting tower. My spot is one of the deeper set stands, where I cannot hear traffic or much of anything else. I like it that way. Setting in for about 30 minutes, I began to tickle the antlers and in a few minutes. a spike buck entered the feed plot, up wind from me.
I have to admit, I enjoy watching deer about as much as anything. Only a mature buck that I am ready to take gets my blood up more than just watching deer when they have no idea that I am in their digs.The spike acted confused for a few moments, I suppose wondering what had happened to the sparring bucks that he had heard. He then nibbled on a turnip that he pawed up and walked off.
Right before dark a doe and her offspring from this year, came along to feed on the plot. I watched them until full dark. I then grunted a few times and they walked off.
Saturday's hunt and Sunday morning's hunt were more of the same. I brought in a fork horn buck on Saturday by rattling, but nothing more than a few other antlerless deer came along.
Sunday afternoon I got to the stand at 2:00 P.M. The time had changed and it would be dark at 6. According to the moon, minor movement was scheduled for early afternoon so I wanted to be there. At around 3:00 P.M. we had a steady, but light rain. Thanks to club members who came before me, my shooting tower had a roof and I stayed dry and watchful.
At around 4:30 the rain let up and the breeze was light. By 4:45, I knew that I had just over one hour, before dark. I spotted the movement inside the dense pines, out beyond the clear cut, over which I was looking. Getting the binoculars up, I had fleeting glimpses of two doe, followed by two bucks. The one buck was decidedly larger in body and antler.
Try as I may, I could not get a clear shot at the larger buck. The trees and other foliage gave me only clear shots lasting less than one second. The deer were at 176 yards. I swung the scope slightly ahead of the deer and saw one slash of an opening where they should cross, before disappearing for good. I held on the opening and a pair of antlers appeared. The buck had turned slightly left and I pulled the crosshairs back a little more, behind his right elbow, so as to lance the bullet diagonally, into his heart.
At the crack of the 280Rem cartridge, the buck tumbled forward and thrashed for a few seconds. The other three were, of course, long gone.
Making my way to the fallen buck, I saw that I had killed the smaller buck. The club has an eight point or better rule, with antlers extending beyond the ears. During the two past seasons, I had taken acceptable eight pointers, plus some doe in order to give venison to my daughter and her family, as they really do enjoy having venison for table fare.
I felt bad about dropping the smaller buck, but then I only had that split second to make my decision.
The Nosler 120 grain Ballistic Tip bullet broke through one rib going in. It then sliced off the top of the heart, making it look like it had been cut half way through with a very high speed chain saw. Going on, it smashed three ribs, making a hole that my fist fit through. Then it broke the deer's upper left leg and kept going.
Thus far I have taken a number of wild pigs, whitetails, mule deer and a couple pronghorns with that bullet. None of those animals did more than thrash about a bit, after going down. I will stick with that bullet.
When I got back to camp, I fessed up and all four pards agreed that I had made a mistake that any of them would have made in my circumstances. We took the golf cart out to collect the deer.
Upon skinning him, we saw his stomach was loaded with bright green grasses, turnips and corn. He was full and ready to lay up, in order to digest his meal.
I can take one more buck and three doe off the club lease, after this one was counted. I have to make sure that the next buck is bigger and qualifies, by club rules.
By Friday afternoon, I want to be back in the woods.
Steven L. Ashe
, congratulations.
