CowboyLeroy
Well-known member
Saturday brought the end of a saga. To quote the late col Tom Kelly "I wished I could breathe life back into him" it's the bittersweet nature of hunting. I saw this buck for the first time in January of '20. I dint see him in all of the 21-22 season and only got about a dozen pictures of him in the 22-23 season. He came back from the area where he spent his summers on Oct 21, opening day of rifle season. I hunted him every day twice a day until I got him Nov 25. I lied when I said every day twice a day. I slept in two mornings, one of which I got six pictures of him on three cameras (Nov 20) between that day, and the time I shot him I heard multiple neighbors shoot multiple deer every day and it started to really wear on me. I started doubting myself, and my purpose and why I was really after this buck. Was I hunting this deer for the challenge? The love of deer hunting? Or was it something less? Pride maybe, greed probably. A month is a long time to leave a woman at the house with a rowdy two year old girl and a nine month old boy that has a crippling addiction to breast milk. I have a great wife, and I can't complain about anything she has ever done. But i knew she wasnt happy and i dont like tension in the home. On the evening of the 24th i felt so convicted after watching a Billy Ghaham clip on my phone i had to climb down out of my stand and take a knee at the base of the ladder. I got right about putting a deer ahead of my wife and children, trying to take off work for a deer that I didn't even know was alive. I sat until dark and never saw more than a spike.
And then, like a heathen, promptly got up and went the next morning.
I sat until 8ish and had basically given up on the buck. I was pretty certain that it wasnt meant to be and it was time to move on. I'd got set to climb down when I looked up and saw the same spike standing at the edge of the woods. I watched for a minute or two as he came down the fence row and all at once dove off in a cypress head. All hell broke loose with crashing and grunting and then all at once a doe popped out.
Then back in
Then back out
Then back in
Then the spike
Then the doe
She runs off, due northeast crossing from my left to right, coming towards me at a quartering angle. I look back at the cypress hole and oh my good lord on high there he is. The man himself. I picked up the rifle and he dipped back in the grapevines before I could get on him. We played high stakes whack-a-mole aongst the Spanish moss and muskedines for what felt like an hour before he found that does trail. He quickly worked his way across the field offering know shot, either facing straight towards me with his head down or straight away never pausing. By the time he found exactly where she came across the field he may have been forty feet from the edge of the old cutover when he finally offered me a shot. Just as quick as it started, it was over.
21 points.
192 boone and crockett
236 spoon and crockpot.
There is a lesson to be learned, and while I'm extremely happy with the deer, I'm not happy with myself and how I treated those around me. Don't make an idol out of a deer. Remember why you do it, and what it's for.
And then, like a heathen, promptly got up and went the next morning.
I sat until 8ish and had basically given up on the buck. I was pretty certain that it wasnt meant to be and it was time to move on. I'd got set to climb down when I looked up and saw the same spike standing at the edge of the woods. I watched for a minute or two as he came down the fence row and all at once dove off in a cypress head. All hell broke loose with crashing and grunting and then all at once a doe popped out.
Then back in
Then back out
Then back in
Then the spike
Then the doe
She runs off, due northeast crossing from my left to right, coming towards me at a quartering angle. I look back at the cypress hole and oh my good lord on high there he is. The man himself. I picked up the rifle and he dipped back in the grapevines before I could get on him. We played high stakes whack-a-mole aongst the Spanish moss and muskedines for what felt like an hour before he found that does trail. He quickly worked his way across the field offering know shot, either facing straight towards me with his head down or straight away never pausing. By the time he found exactly where she came across the field he may have been forty feet from the edge of the old cutover when he finally offered me a shot. Just as quick as it started, it was over.
21 points.
192 boone and crockett
236 spoon and crockpot.
There is a lesson to be learned, and while I'm extremely happy with the deer, I'm not happy with myself and how I treated those around me. Don't make an idol out of a deer. Remember why you do it, and what it's for.
