roysclockgun
Handloader
- Dec 17, 2005
- 736
- 0
The eight point buck was right in my crosshairs, standing broadside with two doe and a six pointer. My finger only needed to apply that little pressure that provides the "breaking crystal" let off and he'd go down. At that moment, he belonged to me!........But, I am getting ahead of myself.
This group will likely be split on how they receive my telling of what happened this morning. This was only my second week, this year, of hunting on the 2000 acres of paper company land in SE Georgia. For the first week, doe were closed. During the first three days of hunting, we had very warm, dry weather and I saw three doe, but no bucks. This week, I hunted Friday and today and more deer were moving. Only two others were in camp, out of the club's eight members. The other two had hunted this land for the last 18 years, having acquired the lease when only they, the two brothers put the club together. This is my third season hunting on the place.
We vote each year to limit the possible kills. Last year the limit was two bucks. The second buck must have a larger rack than did the first kill. Bucks have to have a minimum of eight points and the spread must go beyond the relaxed ears of the buck. Also last year, we limited the doe kill to three, although more are allowed, legally in that county.
During my first two years hunting, I bagged an eight point buck both years and added to the freezer of my extended family with two doe per year.
One of the brothers had the new-fangled "App" on his phone, that tells when the peak time of day will be when deer are on the move. Ain't science grand? Today the peak movement in the morning was to be at 11:00 A.M. That is not to say that one will not see deer at first light, or later in the day. It only says that around 11:00 A.M. there will be a lot of deer on the move.
As usual, I got to my stand 15 minutes before shooting light and settled in to watch four directions, slashing through the paper company's pines. At 8:10 A.M. I turned to see the back half of a deer walk into the pines about 125 yards down the slash cut. Wondering whether it had been a buck or doe, I sat back again. At 8:40 A.M. three doe crossed through a bit of hardwood, just inside the beginning of a huge cotton field. I watched them intently, trying to put antlers on one. No luck. All doe.
At 10:30 A.M., remembering my promise to my bride, Storm, to be home early. I left the stand with the intent of "still hunting" the mile back down the timber road to my truck. Toe-heal, toe-heal, I tried to move as quietly as possible, pausing after each step to glass and look.
I had gone about half way when at the same instant, I froze, as a doe raised her head from where she was browsing in a clear cut area. Not really being clear cut, many pines had been left standing, but already, fresh greens were coming up for the deer to eat. She was at 125 yards. After staring in my direction for maybe one minute, she lowered her head to continue browsing. I used that time to hunker down so I could watch more comfortably. No sooner was I down, then another doe walked into the clearing and began eating next to the first doe.
I never tire of watching deer and I was thoroughly enjoying watching these two. Suddenly a mature buck burst from the cover on the left. Like a middle school boy, trying to flirt with girls, but not knowing how, the buck pranced a bit, showing off to the doe, who ignored him and continue to eat.
I was glassing his rack and was able to count eight points, even with the scrub and growth, partially blocking a clear view. He moved enough for me to make the count and yes, he had eight points clearly in evidence. The spread was also the required "beyond the ears" width. The rack was a beautifully balanced and it was obvious to me that the buck was in top condition.
Here's where the rub comes in! I had promised Storm that I would be home early to get all in readiness for a trip north, so that Storm a native Missourian, could see the wonderful display of changing leaves, now peaking in Maryland.
Just then a six point buck walked in from the right side opening and joined the other three. Obviously, the doe were not in yet, as the bigger buck ignored the younger, smaller buck.
It was at this point that I made my decision not to take the eight point buck. The rack, while being a beautiful thing, was nothing extraordinary. After many years of bringing home bucks, this one would have been just one more: "Oh yeah, Steven, you got another buck. Nice one." This, as opposed to; "Wow! That is a great buck!"
As most of us know, the work begins after the buck is down. The other club members had already left for home. I faced bringing my truck in to where I could drag the buck, then loading him by myself. No small task at age 73. So, I let off the trigger and reveled in watching them for minutes longer, until they walked off to feed elsewhere.
I felt a certain warmth for all four deer. I know where they are and perhaps, later in the season, if I again have a shot at the "lucky buck", I may take him.
I was able to hold the visions of all ten deer that I saw over the two day hunt, as I drove the three hours to home. The memory of that proud looking eight pointer is seared in my memory, just as if I had pulled the trigger. No regrets, only fine memories.
Steven
This group will likely be split on how they receive my telling of what happened this morning. This was only my second week, this year, of hunting on the 2000 acres of paper company land in SE Georgia. For the first week, doe were closed. During the first three days of hunting, we had very warm, dry weather and I saw three doe, but no bucks. This week, I hunted Friday and today and more deer were moving. Only two others were in camp, out of the club's eight members. The other two had hunted this land for the last 18 years, having acquired the lease when only they, the two brothers put the club together. This is my third season hunting on the place.
We vote each year to limit the possible kills. Last year the limit was two bucks. The second buck must have a larger rack than did the first kill. Bucks have to have a minimum of eight points and the spread must go beyond the relaxed ears of the buck. Also last year, we limited the doe kill to three, although more are allowed, legally in that county.
During my first two years hunting, I bagged an eight point buck both years and added to the freezer of my extended family with two doe per year.
One of the brothers had the new-fangled "App" on his phone, that tells when the peak time of day will be when deer are on the move. Ain't science grand? Today the peak movement in the morning was to be at 11:00 A.M. That is not to say that one will not see deer at first light, or later in the day. It only says that around 11:00 A.M. there will be a lot of deer on the move.
As usual, I got to my stand 15 minutes before shooting light and settled in to watch four directions, slashing through the paper company's pines. At 8:10 A.M. I turned to see the back half of a deer walk into the pines about 125 yards down the slash cut. Wondering whether it had been a buck or doe, I sat back again. At 8:40 A.M. three doe crossed through a bit of hardwood, just inside the beginning of a huge cotton field. I watched them intently, trying to put antlers on one. No luck. All doe.
At 10:30 A.M., remembering my promise to my bride, Storm, to be home early. I left the stand with the intent of "still hunting" the mile back down the timber road to my truck. Toe-heal, toe-heal, I tried to move as quietly as possible, pausing after each step to glass and look.
I had gone about half way when at the same instant, I froze, as a doe raised her head from where she was browsing in a clear cut area. Not really being clear cut, many pines had been left standing, but already, fresh greens were coming up for the deer to eat. She was at 125 yards. After staring in my direction for maybe one minute, she lowered her head to continue browsing. I used that time to hunker down so I could watch more comfortably. No sooner was I down, then another doe walked into the clearing and began eating next to the first doe.
I never tire of watching deer and I was thoroughly enjoying watching these two. Suddenly a mature buck burst from the cover on the left. Like a middle school boy, trying to flirt with girls, but not knowing how, the buck pranced a bit, showing off to the doe, who ignored him and continue to eat.
I was glassing his rack and was able to count eight points, even with the scrub and growth, partially blocking a clear view. He moved enough for me to make the count and yes, he had eight points clearly in evidence. The spread was also the required "beyond the ears" width. The rack was a beautifully balanced and it was obvious to me that the buck was in top condition.
Here's where the rub comes in! I had promised Storm that I would be home early to get all in readiness for a trip north, so that Storm a native Missourian, could see the wonderful display of changing leaves, now peaking in Maryland.
Just then a six point buck walked in from the right side opening and joined the other three. Obviously, the doe were not in yet, as the bigger buck ignored the younger, smaller buck.
It was at this point that I made my decision not to take the eight point buck. The rack, while being a beautiful thing, was nothing extraordinary. After many years of bringing home bucks, this one would have been just one more: "Oh yeah, Steven, you got another buck. Nice one." This, as opposed to; "Wow! That is a great buck!"
As most of us know, the work begins after the buck is down. The other club members had already left for home. I faced bringing my truck in to where I could drag the buck, then loading him by myself. No small task at age 73. So, I let off the trigger and reveled in watching them for minutes longer, until they walked off to feed elsewhere.
I felt a certain warmth for all four deer. I know where they are and perhaps, later in the season, if I again have a shot at the "lucky buck", I may take him.
I was able to hold the visions of all ten deer that I saw over the two day hunt, as I drove the three hours to home. The memory of that proud looking eight pointer is seared in my memory, just as if I had pulled the trigger. No regrets, only fine memories.
Steven
