CPAjeff
Well-known member
Growing up in the west, I never thought much about hunting whitetails. In fact, the thought of hunting whitetails seemed boring – maybe in part because all of the hunting shows, which aired on the channels we had, seemed to show only whitetail hunts. My, how things have changed! The past few years, I’ve really enjoyed hunting whitetails and would rather shoot a whitetail than a mule deer.
Friday morning, I was up early and glassing all the normal places. Plenty of deer were spotted, including some bucks that I would be happy to put my tag on. Friday mid-morning was spent chasing pheasants and sharptails – I can’t think of a better way to spend a day.
The anticipation was running high Saturday morning as my son and I snuck to the predetermined spot in the dark. This “spot” is located in a highly-trafficked deer area and provides an incredible view of the surrounding sloughs, draws, and tree lines.
Just like clockwork, as darkness turned to light, deer began funneling by. First, it was a small buck, then a doe, then another doe, then another small buck all within 100 yards. Off in a distant draw, I spotted a nice 8-point chasing a doe. Figuring we could loop around a small hill and get up to the head of the draw, we gathered our stuff and hustled over to ambush the buck. With the wind in our favor, we peaked into the draw and the buck was nowhere to be found. Frantically I glassed around, trying to find the lovesick buck. With no avail, we turned around and headed back in the direction we came from. I caught movement in another draw, coming up out of sloughly type area. It didn’t take but a glance to realize this was a great buck. As fate or luck would have it, he was headed across an open pasture toward some does. A small bench on the hillside below us provided the perfect shooting spot. It was an absolutely perfect morning, with one of my favorite hunting buddies!
Saturday mid-morning and early afternoon was spent chasing birds, it never gets old!
One of the things that I love most about hunting, is the family heritage aspect of it. Spending time together outdoors has a power to bring individuals and families closer together. I was raised by the best parents in the world - if one could dream up all the qualities of a perfect mother and father, my parents have them all! It was tradition to start big game hunting with my Dad's .243 - the infamous .243 I heard story after story about - the antelope, deer, elk, and grouse that it had killed. My Dad was kind enough to let me borrow the .243 to fill my antlerless tag. Looking through the fixed 4x scope and examining the scratches in the wood stock, many put there by me, brought back memories of hunts and of my idealistic childhood. A doe and two fawns were spotted along a cornrow, and one fawn hung around a little too long.
The past few days spent hunting with family will be one of those memory dividends that'll continue to provide returns over and over again.
Friday morning, I was up early and glassing all the normal places. Plenty of deer were spotted, including some bucks that I would be happy to put my tag on. Friday mid-morning was spent chasing pheasants and sharptails – I can’t think of a better way to spend a day.
The anticipation was running high Saturday morning as my son and I snuck to the predetermined spot in the dark. This “spot” is located in a highly-trafficked deer area and provides an incredible view of the surrounding sloughs, draws, and tree lines.
Just like clockwork, as darkness turned to light, deer began funneling by. First, it was a small buck, then a doe, then another doe, then another small buck all within 100 yards. Off in a distant draw, I spotted a nice 8-point chasing a doe. Figuring we could loop around a small hill and get up to the head of the draw, we gathered our stuff and hustled over to ambush the buck. With the wind in our favor, we peaked into the draw and the buck was nowhere to be found. Frantically I glassed around, trying to find the lovesick buck. With no avail, we turned around and headed back in the direction we came from. I caught movement in another draw, coming up out of sloughly type area. It didn’t take but a glance to realize this was a great buck. As fate or luck would have it, he was headed across an open pasture toward some does. A small bench on the hillside below us provided the perfect shooting spot. It was an absolutely perfect morning, with one of my favorite hunting buddies!
Saturday mid-morning and early afternoon was spent chasing birds, it never gets old!
One of the things that I love most about hunting, is the family heritage aspect of it. Spending time together outdoors has a power to bring individuals and families closer together. I was raised by the best parents in the world - if one could dream up all the qualities of a perfect mother and father, my parents have them all! It was tradition to start big game hunting with my Dad's .243 - the infamous .243 I heard story after story about - the antelope, deer, elk, and grouse that it had killed. My Dad was kind enough to let me borrow the .243 to fill my antlerless tag. Looking through the fixed 4x scope and examining the scratches in the wood stock, many put there by me, brought back memories of hunts and of my idealistic childhood. A doe and two fawns were spotted along a cornrow, and one fawn hung around a little too long.
The past few days spent hunting with family will be one of those memory dividends that'll continue to provide returns over and over again.
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