Got stationed in AL two years ago, which was not my first choice from a hunting perspective. The public anywhere near me is small and crowded; most of bow season is around 80 degrees. I did notice, however, that there are some pretty decent sized state forests and WMAs in the panhandle of Florida. Without any real expectations, I set out to become the new guy all over again. In probably ten morning or afternoon individual hunts, I saw a decent number of deer but nothing larger than a scraggly 2.5 year old. The cool part, though, was the environment- it's a tropical swamp, with "hammocks" or islands that may be only a few inches of elevation higher than the surrounding terrain but have completely different vegetation and use by game animals. Instead of the standard crunch of leaves announcing an animal's arrival, the first thing you hear is often them splashing through shallow water.
The other really appealing thing about hunting this area is its minimalism. The longest shot opportunity is about a collegiate distance field goal. No binos, spotters, dope cards, gear lists or bubble levels- just a day pack with an extra layer and a little .30-30 at "point and shoot" distances, and your bases are covered. I love the process of saving points for an elk tag as much as the next guy, but I think I had almost forgotten how nice it is to have 100% of your mental real estate available to simply take in the experience with no expectations and minimal logistics. I was thrilled last year to harvest a doe and a small buck for the freezer, which was a big time success in my book.
Fast forwarding to this season, my priorities were a little different. I had filled an elk tag and a pronghorn tag in September, so one more deer was all I'd need. It almost felt silly to set parameters for passing deer knowing I'd be on highly pressured public in a state with 2 (two) typical entries in the B&C books, but I figured you only get so many opportunities to swing for the fences so why not send it.
Right after Thanksgiving we got a wicked cold front, t-shirt weather to the 20s in less than 24 hours. I usually try to avoid hunting holiday weekends, but there was one area I'd been watching that is only accessible via a really wild nonstandard infil that would take a decent part of the day to do. I'd never actually been there on the ground before, but had flown over it a few times and it looked great from the air. The stiff north breeze that came with the high pressure system was perfect for where I wanted to hunt and the last convincing I needed. I was feeling cautiously optimistic as I threw warmies on and loaded up.
The way in was pretty cool, you could clearly see the footprint from human use falling away as things got progressively more stupid. About two hours of vine cutting and brush beating fun, I got to my spot just as the sun was barely starting to get horizontal. I found a hammock that afforded views of a few 50-75 yard shooting lanes, and set up my ultralight climber. There were several heavily used game trails by my stand, trailing off like arteries into the swamp. Some of the prints were clearly yearlings, light enough not to sink far into the soft mud. Some were not. Between the heavily used game trails, the conditions and how good this spot looked, my mind was starting to go down the "what if" rabbit hole that leads to both so much disappointment and also keeps us coming back for stuff like this. I quickly stowed my fantasies with a reminder that virtually nobody passes a legal forky on Florida public.
About an hour into my sit, I saw a flash of movement 75 yards away. Yearling doe. I carefully got into position just in case. Next was mom, an older doe. Good sign at least if animals like that are around. Every local I'd talked to agreed that the rut tends to peak in the panhandle in late December, and as I was wondering if there was any way a buck would be relating to does this early, I caught a glimpse of him. Initially I only saw a flash of his main beam through the trees, but his body dwarfed the fully mature doe only a few paces away. I put my ears in as calmly as possible and started frantically looking for windows to execute. To my dismay, both does had already melted into the swamp by this point, and my guy was clearly starting to tend them only a few paces behind. Best case scenario would be a split second shot opportunity. A second momentary look confirmed that he was 100% a shooter. Looking through the trees, there was one last tiny window between him and where the does had disappeared. I cocked the 336's hammer, slipped the safety off, breathed up and settled the crosshairs on the spot, and waited for movement. The shot broke cleanly and he immediately disappeared. As I was working the action, the telltale crash gave me hope that I might actually have pulled this off.
Thankfully, no blood trail was needed. As I walked up to him, I was speechless. I know a lot of guys kill whitetails bigger than this all the time, but the number of mature deer this size on public land in Florida is just not very high. I took some quick pictures, got him loaded up and started my way out. It was one of those packouts where you stop a few times just to wonder how you got so lucky.
One other cool item about this guy- he has a pretty pronounced mane. Wasn't looking for another shoulder mount, but sometimes the universe speaks. My biggest takeaway from this is that after 18 years chasing whitetails, it only gets more addicting. The variety of environments in which these animals can thrive is actually pretty incredible, and I'm thankful beyond words to get to spend time there. Now off to the taxidermist to get this full sneak started!
The other really appealing thing about hunting this area is its minimalism. The longest shot opportunity is about a collegiate distance field goal. No binos, spotters, dope cards, gear lists or bubble levels- just a day pack with an extra layer and a little .30-30 at "point and shoot" distances, and your bases are covered. I love the process of saving points for an elk tag as much as the next guy, but I think I had almost forgotten how nice it is to have 100% of your mental real estate available to simply take in the experience with no expectations and minimal logistics. I was thrilled last year to harvest a doe and a small buck for the freezer, which was a big time success in my book.
Fast forwarding to this season, my priorities were a little different. I had filled an elk tag and a pronghorn tag in September, so one more deer was all I'd need. It almost felt silly to set parameters for passing deer knowing I'd be on highly pressured public in a state with 2 (two) typical entries in the B&C books, but I figured you only get so many opportunities to swing for the fences so why not send it.
Right after Thanksgiving we got a wicked cold front, t-shirt weather to the 20s in less than 24 hours. I usually try to avoid hunting holiday weekends, but there was one area I'd been watching that is only accessible via a really wild nonstandard infil that would take a decent part of the day to do. I'd never actually been there on the ground before, but had flown over it a few times and it looked great from the air. The stiff north breeze that came with the high pressure system was perfect for where I wanted to hunt and the last convincing I needed. I was feeling cautiously optimistic as I threw warmies on and loaded up.
The way in was pretty cool, you could clearly see the footprint from human use falling away as things got progressively more stupid. About two hours of vine cutting and brush beating fun, I got to my spot just as the sun was barely starting to get horizontal. I found a hammock that afforded views of a few 50-75 yard shooting lanes, and set up my ultralight climber. There were several heavily used game trails by my stand, trailing off like arteries into the swamp. Some of the prints were clearly yearlings, light enough not to sink far into the soft mud. Some were not. Between the heavily used game trails, the conditions and how good this spot looked, my mind was starting to go down the "what if" rabbit hole that leads to both so much disappointment and also keeps us coming back for stuff like this. I quickly stowed my fantasies with a reminder that virtually nobody passes a legal forky on Florida public.
About an hour into my sit, I saw a flash of movement 75 yards away. Yearling doe. I carefully got into position just in case. Next was mom, an older doe. Good sign at least if animals like that are around. Every local I'd talked to agreed that the rut tends to peak in the panhandle in late December, and as I was wondering if there was any way a buck would be relating to does this early, I caught a glimpse of him. Initially I only saw a flash of his main beam through the trees, but his body dwarfed the fully mature doe only a few paces away. I put my ears in as calmly as possible and started frantically looking for windows to execute. To my dismay, both does had already melted into the swamp by this point, and my guy was clearly starting to tend them only a few paces behind. Best case scenario would be a split second shot opportunity. A second momentary look confirmed that he was 100% a shooter. Looking through the trees, there was one last tiny window between him and where the does had disappeared. I cocked the 336's hammer, slipped the safety off, breathed up and settled the crosshairs on the spot, and waited for movement. The shot broke cleanly and he immediately disappeared. As I was working the action, the telltale crash gave me hope that I might actually have pulled this off.
Thankfully, no blood trail was needed. As I walked up to him, I was speechless. I know a lot of guys kill whitetails bigger than this all the time, but the number of mature deer this size on public land in Florida is just not very high. I took some quick pictures, got him loaded up and started my way out. It was one of those packouts where you stop a few times just to wonder how you got so lucky.
One other cool item about this guy- he has a pretty pronounced mane. Wasn't looking for another shoulder mount, but sometimes the universe speaks. My biggest takeaway from this is that after 18 years chasing whitetails, it only gets more addicting. The variety of environments in which these animals can thrive is actually pretty incredible, and I'm thankful beyond words to get to spend time there. Now off to the taxidermist to get this full sneak started!
. Congratulations!
