A Very Special Day

The deer were there, I’d seen them many times before the bow season opened. There were does in the corner of that little field every evening. I’d also observed bucks out there on quite a few evenings. From where I’d watched the deer, I could tell that there was one small buck in the area with a strange looking rack and a couple larger bucks that looked to be in the six to eight point range.

When the bow season opened, I hunted other areas that looked like the deer traffic would be high. Farmers in the area had reported seeing a couple "real big" bucks, so I wanted to be where I hoped those big bucks would be passing by. Although I was just hoping that a mature buck with at least eight points would wander into my shooting lane.

After spending the first month and a half having nothing but does come in range. And only seeing bucks from a distance so far off that I couldn’t even tell how big their racks were, I decided it was time to try that corner of the little field.

It was a Wednesday, partly cloudy and cool. The wind was from the right direction and not blowing too hard. I decided that this would be the day. Today I would become "the dominant predator". No taking a leisurely walk into the woods to nonchalantly sit in a stand. This would be a hunt. I was determined that I would do everything possible to get in, set up, and be ready if a buck came through the woods on it’s way to the field. Today, I would surprise the deer, they would have no idea that I was there until my arrow had punctured the lungs of a buck.

At that point in time, sunset was about five thirty. So at twelve thirty I grabbed my tree stand, backpack, and bow. It was time for the hunt to begin. The spot where I wanted to set up at was only about two hundred yards from where I parked. But I wanted plenty of time to sneak in there. It would be done as a serious stalk. No noise. No spooking any deer. If there were deer in there, I would see them long before they had any idea that I was there. There was so much determination flowing through my veins that I could taste it. This would be the day…

It took over an hour and a half for me to get to the tree I set up in. I’d take a couple steps and stop. Slowly looking around me. Listening as hard as I could, waiting for that "crunch, crunch, crunch" of a deer walking in the fallen leaves. Using my binoculars to scan further off into the trees, looking for any movement, anything that looked like part of a deer.
When I finally reached the area I wanted to be in, I set down my bow, tree stand, and backpack. Then decided which tree to set up in, and hung my stand.
Once I was in the stand and had my backpack and bow up there with me, I took a good look around at my set up. Eighteen to twenty feet up in the tree, twenty-two yards from the edge of the field facing north, toward the field. With a real good shooting lane into the field a few yards to my left. I’m right handed, I always set up so I can shoot to the left.
All around me I could see where the deer had been moving around, it was like a staging area where they congregated before moving into the field. There were trails coming to that spot from every direction. With one real heavily used trail coming from the south. It looked like something most hunters would see in a dream. You just know that the deer are in there more than anywhere else for miles around.

Sitting in the tree that day was easy. The intense anticipation, the squirrels to watch as they playfully chased each other, the eagles soaring over the field, and the big flocks of Canada Geese flying over. There was no boredom.

At three o-clock the fun began. I heard the sounds of deer coming through the woods behind me. A couple minutes later two does walked past my stand, about seven yards away. I watched them for over twenty minutes as they moved out into the field and began eating sugar beets that had been left behind after the harvest.

I was enjoying the show so much that I didn’t even notice the sound of another deer coming through the woods behind me until he was almost next to me. It was the small buck I’d seen before. The one with the strange rack. On the right side he had four points. He was a young deer, so the points were short, but they looked normal. On the left side however, his entire antler was about three inches high and had a "Y" shape. As I watched him there was an argument going on in my mind. This was without doubt a management buck. I felt that I should take him out of the gene pool to preserve the condition of the herd in the area. But it was still early, and I was there for a bigger buck than that. Thankfully, before the argument ended, the little buck moved off into the field where I didn’t have a shot.

A few minutes later the little buck suddenly stopped eating and looked back into the woods. His ears perked up and he went on alert. When the does also looked back into the woods I noticed that I could hear something coming. This time however, the sound was different. The steps sounded much heavier than when the other deer came by. The steps were coming slower too, more cautiously.

I very, very slowly turned my head. I couldn’t make out the whole rack but I could tell that this was a bigger buck.

Time seemed to stop as I waited for him to move ahead far enough so I could get a good look at him. He was on a trail that was twenty yards west of my stand. Straight west of me the trail ran along the far side of a fallen tree who’s trunk stuck up about three feet above the ground.

Finally, the buck cleared that last tree, giving me a clear view of it’s rack. It felt as if my heart would jump right out of my chest. It was huge! This was a true "monster buck"! I knew that I wouldn’t have a shot because of the fallen tree, so I started counting points on the rack. I forced myself to look away when I hit ten and there were still more than just a couple points to count. I was afraid that if I kept counting I would get so freaked out by the rack that I’d miss my shot, if I were presented with one. In my mind I kept hearing hunters I’ve known before, "don’t look at the rack", "don’t look at the rack".
The big buck continued toward the field, staying behind the fallen tree. I caught myself looking at the rack again and quickly forced my eyes to look only at it’s base. The mass was enormous. I knew there was no way that I’d be able to touch my fingertips together around it. "Don’t look at the rack", "don’t look at the rack"! Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump. How was it possible the buck couldn’t hear my heart beat…?

When he finally cleared the fallen tree I still didn’t have a shot because he was protected by another clump of trees. He then turned to the east and took a few steps toward me. I remember thinking that if he’d go south again, away from the field, he’d be on the right side of the fallen tree and I would have plenty of opportunities to take a shot. To my amazement, he turned south and stopped. His head and neck were now clear of the clump of trees, but his heart and lungs were still protected.

That’s when the big buck gave me a lesson in how a big buck stays alive long enough to get that big. He lowered his head and began sniffing the ground. In the exact spot where I’d set my backpack down while I hung my tree stand.

He went on full alert. His head turning back and forth. His nose sniffing the air trying to pick up my scent. He was definitely looking for me.

I was thinking that if he would just take one or two steps forward I could take a shot. My heart was pounding even harder than before. Then he did it, he took that one step. I immediately started to draw my bow. But as he took the second step he went into a full run. He was gone. The small buck and the two does also bolted.

I stayed in my stand till after dark. Just in case the big buck decided to come back again. But all I saw was four does that walked by along the edge of the field.

My feeling that "this would be the day" had come to pass. It may not have ended the way I wanted it to. But it ended with me learning something new, and giving that buck more time to grow even bigger. Plus, I may have the pleasure of getting to see him again. I hope...

Post script: Now that the firearms season has ended in that area, I am happy to report that the monster buck has been sighted roaming the edges of fields in the area. He’s still out there.