We need some hunting stories

[MASTERS]

That's funny^^^^

[Wapiti Seeker]

I remember one while hunting near Rising Star. We were hunting deer and turkeys. I was about 14 or so. My dad and his best buddy, almost my second dad at the time left me in a mesquite tree. I had a 12 gauge since I really was thinking turkeys would show up. I ended up shooting a good size buck but with a small rack. My dad said only shoot what you can carry out. He ended up shooting 4 does with 4 shots. I still give him a hard time. I miss those times with my dad. We had such a great time. Relish the memories.

[Ender]

So did you tell him to carry out what he killed?

[Jtrisler]

Illinois bucks!

They have haunted me for the last two years. Close encounters and I just couldn’t seem to get it done. When I say close I mean 5 yards close. I vowed this year to take care of business and put my tag on one of those whitetails that have teased me in the years past. I normally take a week off during the first of November to head north to Illinois, but this year I chose to use a little more annual leave and take a full two weeks. Surely, with that kind of time I could run a Killzone® through a buck, zip tie my tag to his antlers and bring him back to Louisiana.

I did not know that this year I would have a helping hand.

It has been a tough year for me and The Trisler Family. On February 6th, I lost my Dad, fellow hunter and mentor to a hard fought battle with MDS—a form of Leukemia. Our camp was built on the banks of Bull Lake Slough and has all of the hunting and fishing that Louisiana has to offer. The bayous are fed by Black River and the Larto Lake complex which creeps their way through Dewey Wills Management Area and borders our camp. I grew up there during the summer and fall months wetting a line, chasing deer and enjoying a campfire and the stories told around those fires. It was my Dads get away and a place that he held close to his heart. It was a place that all were welcome and hunting wasn’t taken all that serious.

A few years ago Harvey Ray White began camping, hunting and fishing with us. As my Dad and Harvey Ray were fishing one morning, Harvey Ray pulled a green Gatorade cap out of his pocket and mentioned to Daddy that he had something for him. As a joke, he had made Dad a “membership button” to his camp. On this “button” he had written “Bull Head Slough, F&H Club" with a large number 1 right in the center to signify my Dads founding membership status. After a good laugh my Dad stuck the "membership button" in his pocket for safe keeping.

After his passing my Mom found the button a few months later and wanted to know if I wanted it. Knowing the importance of it to my Dad I gladly accepted and mentioned to her that I would use it as a good luck charm for the upcoming hunting season. I kept it in my truck and thought about it several times while bow hunting Louisiana in October but never took it to the stand with me.

After a few days in Illinois hunting with the guys at NAP and good friend Larry Crawford, I thought of “my secret weapon” that I was carrying in the truck. The weather was warming up as a front approached and the deer movement was slowing down—and a little extra help couldn’t hurt. That Saturday morning as I loaded all my gear I went to my truck and grabbed the “button” and pinned it to my cap not really thinking of the significance of what I was doing.

That morning I was hunting the edge of a CRP field that dropped off into a hardwood bottom with several fingers feeding into it. At 9:00am I noticed horns slipping through the bottom and I grabbed my bow and grunt call. After a couple of grunts the buck looked my way and began a slow trot in my direction. He stopped at 50 yards and began looking for the buck he had just heard so I gave him a couple more soft grunts. The buck ran my way barely allowing me enough time to drop the call, draw my bow, and settle the pin behind his shoulder at 20 yards.

After calming my nerves and shaking “buck fever” I called my wife and told her that I would be coming home a bit early this year. I then began to think about the good luck charm on my cap. I called my Mom and told her what had happened with a shaky voice and tears rolling down my face. We had a laugh then a cry. I climbed out of my stand and began the short blood trail with the help of Larry Crawford and his son Eric.

There is no doubt that Dad was with me that morning in the woods of Illinois. He may have left the shot up to me but I believe it was Daddy that helped persuade that buck to travel within my bow range that morning. It has been like that my entire life. He would give me a helping hand to point me in the right direction and leave it up to me to get the job done.

Daddy………we got the job done this year!

[Ender]

Now that was a good one even made my eyes water

[Etxbuckman]

Now that was a good one even made my eyes water

X2 great story!

[Patton]

It was a hot June afternoon, and we were in the camp house scarfing down any leftover crawfish tails we could find from our étouffée dinner. With our bellies full, and about an hour left of light, Paul and I decided to head back to 'The Windmill' where we had hung out hammocks and were camping for the week. We had a relatively flat and easy mile and half walk from the camp house to the windmill. Of course we had a rifles in case we see anything that needs shooting. With three mountain lions killed on the ranch in years past, it's more comforting walking with a gun than without. As we crossed the draw for the second time, I look left and see two axis does feeding about 150 yards away. After a quick scan with the bino's, it was obvious you could see a bucks antler tips just above the cedar brush. I hadn't planned on a stalk, and was actually in shorts and a white t shirt at the time. In an effort to stay concealed, I dropped my t shirt on the ground and started towards a tree that would give me a 100yrd shot as well as concealment. I picked up a broken limb to use as shooting sticks and started to get ready. He turns and I squeezed the trigger, sending hot lead through his left shoulder. The axis buck runs up the hill and out of sight, but seconds later is doing backflips down the hill back to where he was shot. Lots of high fives and celebration, and we got him cleaned up and where in our hammocks by midnight.

Fast forward to the next day, we had made several stalks on different groups of deer hoping to find a shooter buck for Paul(TBHr Bocephus). I think we had 4 successful stalks that day, including getting into the middle of an axis herd and having to whistle and toss rocks to make them stand up. We just never found a good shooter buck. Same as the day before, we went back to the camp house to grill up some food and fill our bellies before heading back to the Windmill for the night. This evening we were walking back later than the day before, and by the end of the hike we were just using the moonlight.

Suddenly Paul freezes, and is looking to my left. Paul is one of my friends who I have hunted with for many years, and I immediately could tell he had spotted something. I slowly turn to my left and can hardly make out the beast of an axis buck staring right at us about 85 yards away. We slowly get onto the ground, and use the grass and slight hill to hide our movements. We wanted to move up about 15 yards to a dirt birm that Paul could shoot over. We crawled over the rocks and thorns and settle into position, and Paul slowly moves up to take the shot. Suddenly the axis buck decides he wants to figure out what is going on, and breaks into a full gallop coming right at us. When we think he is going to run through us, he finally throws on the brakes at about 10yrds. He gave us a look for about two seconds before realizing we were a threat, and turning around and hauling butt back where he came from. If you know axis, you know they will often run off, then turn around and reevaluate. Now Paul is standing up behind me, I'm laying on my stomach and turn over to ask "Can you still see him" Paul is looking down the gun, I unplugged my ears and asked again,"do you see him still!?" I'm not sure if I had finished the sentence before Paul fired a round from his 30-30. I went blind from the flash and deaf from the sound. I remember saying with my eyes closed and ears ringing like no other, "Please tell me you got him!" Paul responds with, "Well I don't know man, he ran off". We decided to wait a few minutes before moving up and scanning the ground with our flashlights. We quietly crept to the scene of the crime, and heard a twig break just inside the wood line. Then another, followed by what sounded like him choking and kicking. We must have been about 15 yards from him but because of the brush couldn't see him. We sat for five minutes, not saying a word and communicating with just looks and hand gestures, before we decided to back out and give him a minute. After finishing our walk to the windmill, we cracked open two beers and decided we would wait 45 minutes just to be safe. After what felt like eternity, we went back to the area and found Paul's buck dead where we left him. That was a hunting trip I will never forget, two great friends getting two great bucks in two consecutive days. Spot and stalking for axis, camping under the hill country skies, and taking two free range trophies is hard to beat.

[GarGuy]

#1
Im a Dang Rookie and Cant Do Anything Right!

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That's right! After 33 years of bowhunting, I don't have a clue! Long read so here we go!

There is a particular deer I have devoted my season to bow hunting. I know his life history and really like him. I have set for him at least 120 hours so far this season with multiple sightings and close calls including the rookie mistakes I made in the thread "A Living Nightmare!". Now that old buck has been MIA for a couple of weeks until five days ago. He showed back up looking like crap. probably lost 50lbs! He was hungry and was just living in my super secret corn pile. He would come in and out five or six times per hour. The problem was, he was getting back to my sanctuary every morning around 4 AM and camping in the corn.I had him patterned and all I needed was a North wind which I knew was coming Sunday night but also knew I had to be set up before he got home.

Monday(yesterday) morning, I parked a long way back and sneaked in perfectly in the moonlight. As I peeked over the tent blind, there was a big ol boar hog in my corn pile. Now I had a choice...I knew no deer were coming with him there so I had to wait for him to leave or shoot him. Now a quick mulling of that and I realized he was going nowhere until all my corn was gone so I knocked an arrow and turned the pin light on. SMACK! Right in the sweet spot and he charged out of there. I was in by 4am. I hunted till daybreak and at 7:04 I saw my shooter come out of my sanctuary about 100yds down and kept staring into the woods. I threw all my tricks at him but he eventually walked away toward one of my food plots and never came back.

After I got out of the stand, I pulled the card and discovered that hog had been there since 10:30pm. I picked up the trail and he went about 120yds into the thicket and was laying right in the middle of the buck trail. I couldn't even move him out of the trail and I was afraid he might ruin the spot.

This morning, I hit it early and was set up by 3AM. At 4:05 My target deer showed up in the moonlight and ate at 20yds. he did his routine of eating a few minutes, then walk out and work some scrapes, come back and eat some more. He did that for over 2 hours and I was really wanting shooting hours to arrive. At about 6:15 he was working a scrape about 40yds away and walked out of my view to the right. Its light enough to shoot now and Im ready for his next snack!

I had about worn my phone out txting Johnny and Jooger. Suddenly his antlers appeared in my peep hole about 6yds from me and headed back to the corn pile. I was afraid to move and waited until he was past me and about 16yds ot. He turned almost broad side with a slight quartering away, leg forward, Pin a third of the way up...Rock steady...WHACK! he bucked and made a short run and then I couldn't hear him anymore. Afew seconds later, a big buck came charging in from my left and was watching my shot deer. I raised my binoculars and he looked just like my shooter! I knew it couldn't be since the deer I shot went the opposite direction. I text several folks and told them I drilled him. Now Steve(Jooger) owed me one since I helped track his buck and I started calling him but he was snuggled up to Momma and wouldn't answer the phone.

He finally called me back after an eternal 15 minutes and said he was on the way! I sneaked out and met Steve on the road. I was giggling because I knew I smoked him but wanted Steve to see him anyway. He got here about 8am and we headed back.

As we approached, the arrow was easy to find and painted bright red. Blood started immediately. Within 20 yds there was a red streak on each side as he literally painted the ground. He wont be far. WRONG! At about 75yds the blood went from a road stripe to a few spots! It got hard for the next 150yds. We were expecting to find him any second. Now let me stop and say this.... Steve is one of the best blood trailers I have ever trailed with. Im really particular about working the trail and I quickly learned we had exactly the same ideas of how it should work. I shortly relinquished the lead to him and I marked blood. Hands and knees dried specks on pine straw kind of trailing! Eventually and after 300yds we found a bed. Very little blood in it and the trail leaving was dried up so we knew we hadn't jumped him. I told Steve that if we didn't know this deer was centerpunched, that bed would say a flesh wounded deer. We were able to work the blood another 50yds or so and he went into about an acre opening where the blood was totally dried up and we lost it.

It was 10:45 and I arranged a breakfast to regroup and see if we could find a dog. No luck on the dog so we went back with full bellies to start fresh. Steve found another tiny fleck of dried blood that gave us a general direction and we started circling. A few minutes later I saw Steve waving his arms and hand signaling so I sneaked over there. He had jumped a very much alive buck and gotten a good look at his side with no visible blood. We checked where the deer was bedded and sure enough, There was about two tablespoons of blood in it.

Its now close to noon and 5.5 hours after I centerpunched that buck. Now for the next twist. Steve described the deer and he had nothing in common with the deer I was hunting! We tailed the deer by tracks for another 100yds and never saw another drop of blood so we came home. I popped the card from my camera in the computer and there was a new 8pt about 18 inches wide that I had never seen before. Steve immediately identified him as the deer we were tracking!

All I can figure on that is since I had seen my target deer for hours, when he came in so close, I just presumed it was him when I saw big antlers. Im a ROOKIE! I never looked at the antlers again until I shot. That explains the mystery deer running in after the shot that looked just like the deer I was hunting!

Next is the mystery of the shot. I was shooting a mechanical broad head which deployed and looked perfect. If I live to be a hundred , I will never understand how that deer lived over that shot!

Steve, I sure appreciate the help. Ill do better next time! I owe you one again.

[GarGuy]

A Living Nightmare

Some of you know I have been hard after a giant 8pt I named CrippleHorn a few years ago. he is 7.5 this year (at least) and I believe he will score in the 150s as an 8pt. For the last two years he has been the most killable buck on my place yet this year have had heck getting an arrow in him. I have seen him numerous times and had him dead to rights at 20 yds one morning before it was light enough to be sure it was him. Of course when I checked the camera...it was. I have logged at least 100 hours on stand for him without a shot. I have put other folks on several of my other bucks including a really nice ten pt because I planned to hunt Cripple Horn.

Any way, Saturday evening I was sitting one of my stands overlooking a feeder and two long food plots with my 10yr old nephew holding a rifle. Just before dark, a big deer came in the food plot but Lil David wasn't comfortable shooting. I could tell it was a monster with great spread and height but couldn't figure out what deer he was. I could have shot him with the rifle but opted to sneak out and try again before church Sunday morning. About an hour after daylight Sunday, I looked out the side window to see a GIANT typical walking across the road. We scrambled to get on him but we were a second late. He was really wide and had a wall of tall tines. I don't have a single picture of this deer but I knew my neighbor did. I went visiting and sure enough...it was him.

After the hunt, I went and looked at the trail he traveled. it was well worn and lined with horn rubs as far as the eye could see. It was also the trail that old Cripple Horn had used when visiting another stand hundreds of yards away. It was a straight shot. Now this trail is a big buck dream. He avoided all three feeders yet had visual from 200yds away on each as well as the ends of the food plots. A quick look around revealed a setup from Heaven. A small clump of pines with branches to the ground and a well pump behind it to assure they wouldn't get behind me. I grabbed the only tent blind I had at home and set it up with amazing cover and a 30yd shot to where he was coming out of my sanctuary thicket as well as the trail continuing 8yds in front of the stand. With a North wind I could come in from the pump jack and have sound coverage as well as being totally out of sight. It was perfect! Monday I put out 50 lb of corn and got out. Yesterday it was all gone with new rubs all around so I put out another bag. I knew the Norther was coming and I could hardly sit still. I checked it this morning and it was cleaned up again. I corned her up and as soon as the wind switched, I was in.

Now the reason that tent blind was at home was because it was too short for me to draw my bow from so I picked up my brand new 10pt crossbow. It shoots unbelievably well. As the evening wore on I was covered in does eating corn. Finally, they just walked calmly away. A few second later caught a glimps of a deer to my left. It was a stud of an 8pt that is on the target list. 6.5 years old ,18 inches inside, long tines and sweeping beams. He walked down the trail 8yds from me and right to the corn. Now I really didn't want to put my tag on this deer and was argueing with myself about passing a deer like this. I finally decided if he started to leave of it got late, I would shoot him. Little did I know that was the least of my worries...

About 10 minutes of pure pleasure watching him and he looks past my stand, cowers a little and walks to the far edge of the corn. HA! Im on the edge of my seat when I hear a gentle burp,burp burp, coming down the trail. Here Ol Cripple Horn came! Over 100 hours this year for this moment and he looks bigger than I thought! He is 8yds broadside, looking at the other buck. safety is off, crosshairs low behind shoulder, squeeze....squeeze......squeeze..... the trigger comes all the way back without firing. He steps forward a few yards and now in my next window. I jiggle the safety, aim squeeze, limp trigger! He takes charge of a corn pile at 20yd and Is hogging it down while the big 8pt begs permission to eat which he grants. All the while Im doing everything in my power to get the crossbow working.

This goes on for about 10 more minutes when both bucks look toward the sanctuary. Ol Cripple Horn turns that direction and starts back eating. The other big 8 circles nervously. Then I see him coming. The giant typical from Sunday. He walks right out and nods at CH who barely notices and then takes over the other corn pile out my right window. He is a typical 6x6 with at least one g3 forking just above the beam. Probably 21 inside. Beams past his nose and then curl in and up. Looks like he is 180s even if I subtract 10 inches for adrenaline!

Broadside at 20yds, I decide to try again. Surely if I pull hard enough it will shoot. WRONG! This goes on with all three shooters there until it was black dark and the corn crunching continues. I text my wife and asked her to drive over there and run the deer off. 30 minutes later she hasn't shown up so I peek at my phone and see it says," Message failed". I make another feeble attempt at sending the text and when the phone lights up, those bucks left there sounding like they ripped half the brush down in my sanctuary.

Perfect ending to this hunt I guess. So much for the absolute best setup a guy could ever find. Its a dang good thing I don't drink right now!

[d_e_smith]

Tres Muleys

It was a cool, brisk morning in a rather large drainage basin on the Western Slope of Colorado and three of us set out with deer tags in pocket. It was opening morning of Colorado’s 2nd rifle season and the deer were yet to see any decent amount of pressure to become scarce. As light began to appear we were sitting in a bowl created by several small drainages and the deer were on their feet out in the sage browsing. The older bucks were already heading back towards cover, but were able to see there was nothing mixed in the groups of bucks worthy of punching a tag on just minutes into the season. As the temperatures rose, the majority of deer headed to thick cover to get in the shade and made glassing them an impossible task, so we decided to call it a morning to go recharge.

The early afternoon found us heading towards the same location, but something caught my eye along the way in a small strip of quakies with maybe an acre of dark timber above it. Binoculars showed there were 2 bucks feeding in a small opening in the timber, but I needed them to stay put so I could get the spotting scope set up to size them up. One look and there was no reason to look them over anymore as one was a forkie and the other a solid 180 class deer. Now the task of gaining 1200 feet elevation over a quarter mile while staying hidden was the problem of the day. The first guy up to shoot wasn’t a spring chicken so it was decided to go up at an angle and walk a saddle over to where they were. We were busted before the trip up even started, so needed their attention to be focus on the way that we came from. Ended up circling where they went into the timber and I posted up on a rock ledge overlooking the front side and the other 2 guys wrapped around back and snuck into the small patch of timber.

As I sat at my post overlooking the last spot the deer were seen as they went into timber I pulled out the GPS and started measurements to see how much room I had to play with if they bailed out towards private. I had about 400 yards to play with if they went away from me so I wasn’t too concerned, ranged it to make sure the dilapidated fence matched with what the GPs measured and it seemed fairly accurate. When I pulled the GPS down I noticed a drop of rain hit me and in an instant the wind shifted strong out of the Southwest which was the last thing the guys in the timber needed to happen. About 10 seconds later the young forkie came running out of the timber and stopped 100yds under me and looked back. A few seconds passed and the big deer came busting out of the cover and instead of stopping, never looked back. I stood up and looked over the rock ledge directly under me, watched him run by and then settled crosshairs on him. I don’t know if it was me not liking something about him or not wanting to punch a tag on the first day knowing there may be bigger deer we hadn’t seen yet, but I didn’t pull the trigger then. When I saw he was cutting up to go across the saddle we walked over on, I sprinted up to where I could see it and got in the prone position to see if my mind had changed. I ranged him at a little over 500 yards as he walked across the saddle and I still couldn’t bring myself to shoot him. Blown opportunity by the guy who wanted to shoot him, he wasn’t paying attention when the deer stood up and offered a 40 yard shot. By this time hours had been wasted, a deer had been blown out of the area and we had maybe 30 minutes left of daylight once we got back down to where we started. End of Day 1

The following morning found us back down in the original bowl we started in on day 1. Same thing as the morning before, a lot of deer up browsing, a few elk out in the high elevations on the rim of bowl feed and bucks moving back towards cover. I was scanning the sage and I thought I saw part of a rack then it disappeared confirming it was what I thought it was. I made my way around to where I could see down in that small gulch running through the sage flat and there were two bucks that had made it 200 yards down the gulch from where I had last seen the disappearing rack. I set up the spotting scope to get a good look at the racks and once again, there was one buck that was solid 180s and a large mature 3 point that were running together. First guy up to shoot assumed the shooting position and the deer rounded a bend and were out of sight. Now we needed to move fast to be able to see them before they got in the deeper ravines and were lost. Thinking they had kept walking went down to where they rounded the bend, but they had stopped right there and were browsing. This spooked them and they put some distance between us. The “first guy up to shoot” used the spotting scope/tripod to rest his rifle on to steady for a shot while I ranged and started walking away to keep better visibility of the deer as they were leaving the area. When they stopped and started walking I ranged at 490. He said he wasn’t steady enough to make the shot, someone else better shoot him. Guy number 2 dropped down prone and used a sage bush to lay his rifle in as the deer sharply quartered away. I saw what was about to happen so I put the binoculars on the deer to see if I could make out impact. As the deer were about to walk out of sight to those guys I heard the crack of the rifle (understatement, I heard what sounded like a cannon from the muzzle brake on that 300 Tejas). In the binoculars I saw hide, blood and muscle tissue fly, but couldn’t quite see where the hit was at the time. The deer was hit hard and looked like it wanted to bed, but the 3 point that was with it pushed it on. When the deer came up out of the ravine heading up to higher ground I say the deer stagger and turn some and I could see where it was hit and knew in my mind that penetration depended on how long it would take the deer to expire. From that last spot we spent hours following blood for over a mile then it just stopped.

My memory of the area recalled there being a stock tank on private property in the direction the deer were heading with some timber on public out away from it. I was thinking the deer would go bed up in that and wait for dark to go lay up in the pond if it was still alive then. So based on that gut feeling, that’s where he headed. I was the one to slip into the timber and try to find sign the deer was there or had been there. I knew it would be hard to be stealthy because prior to walking in I had watched a heard of about 40 deer walk into the timber coming from that stock tank it overlooks. I got about halfway through the patch of timber and I had deer all over the place in front of me and a big stretch of sun I had to go through in order to continue. I tried wrapping around the sunlight and I walked up on a group of young bucks bedded and busted them. They ran towards the other group of deer and they spooked a buck laying under a small ledge right on the other side of the strip of sunlight I was trying to avoid. It was THAT injured deer and all I could see was its head and horns and it turned from looking at me to following those other bucks. I ran to get out the side of the timber so I could see what was going to happen when they ran by the other 2 guys and I got out of the timber and where I could see in time to see that buck was way off and going up the next ridge to another patch of timber, then “Boom..ssss….thud” (only way to describe that). And in the binoculars I could tell the deer was hit in the top of the shoulder and watched it roll back down the hill. I was excited the deer was down and the plan to locate him worked in our favor. Then, the deer stood up and took off again and we were just dumbfounded that robo deer wasn’t giving up the ghost.

This patch of timber the deer got into worried me because I knew about a quarter of it was private property so out came everyone’s GPS to stay on the up & up. I needed to stay put where the shot was fired from to overlook the area with a spotting scope in case the deer left the timber while the other two guys went to try to recover the deer. An hour passes and I hear a real short rifle report. I packed up my gear and headed over that way. I get over there and the 2 older gents are sitting there waiting for me taking a water break and sweating in the heat and I offered a “here’s your sign” moment by asking if they found the deer. After a brief rant about Berger VLDs not being suitable for a rifle shooting almost 3700fps, I got to go look at the deer and break out the Canon 7D for LDPs. It was after early afternoon by the time we finished up and were off the mountain so we decided to go drop the ice chest and cape off and go back out. The evening wasn’t really that eventful. We saw quite a few deer but nothing really that stood out.

Day 3 was a long one that saw us in the same bowl as the previous day at daylight. Nothing had changed and there were a couple new bucks that had moved in, but only around 160”. The day was a struggle past that point of looking over new country and walking in to look at benches that normally hold a bunch of deer. The deer were there, the size wasn’t. The other guy who hadn’t shot was getting discouraged and a little homesick, so he made up his mind that the following day would be his last day to hunt and then he’d get on a plane and fly back to Houston.

Day 4 was crunch time for us to find the guy a buck with him leaving on a flight the next morning. We decided to try the bowl again at daylight and there just wasn’t a buck there with enough age to it so that was a wash. Then we decided to try a spot that is normally better towards the end of 3rd season and I immediately saw a buck feeding in some thin timber. I got around where I could look down the ridge it was on better and I started to see there were several bucks in that area browsing. I worked on over the ridge so I could look at the side the deer were feeding on and I did a scan of the entire ridge that ran about ¾ of a mile before flatting out into a creek basin. I kept watching the deer that were feeding and trying to see if I could find any new ones and occasionally coming out from being the spotter to look down the rest of the ridge and I noticed a brown spot had showed up along it and it was moving. It hit a small opening in the quakies and I could tell it had a blocky body and that white face every muley hunter wants to see. At that point I hadn’t gotten a good look at its rack, but I told the guy to get ready, this was going to be the deer. It was changing bed locations and I caught a profile of its rack and it had decent fronts and deep forks, but short beams. It was an older deer and based on the weather I figured it may be the best on we could glass up. I had a score of 170 in mind for the deer which isn’t too shabby, so off we went after the deer bedded down in the middle of a bunch of small green bushes.

I’d like to say everything on this stalk went perfect, but the only thing that went perfect was that we were dealing with a deer that was deaf, blind, congested and stupid. We got around behind the deer and all 3 of us made the approach with me behind the shooter and the other guy flared off about 30 yards to have a look from a different angle. We were on the approach and I was scanning the brush, not seeing anything and was getting real close to where I thought he had bedded, then I hear a faint whistle from the guy flared off and he’s squatted down a little with his hands held out like “what are you doing!?”. I look back at where the deer should be and I still see nothing and the shooter is turned looking at me wondering what’s going on. This goes on for a minute or so and the flared off guy says “shoot him, he’s right in front of you looking at you”. I still don’t see a deer. I put the binoculars up and behind a leaning aspen that’s right in front of us I can make out the tip of ears and horns sticking out from it and that’s it. I tell the guy to put his scope up and he can see the deer. He does and asks if he should shoot him with just his head sticking up above the green bushes and at that close range I said sure. The deer dropped despite our conversations and, no kidding, it maybe 20 yards from us. Once again, I got the duties of breaking out the Canon and cleaning the deer up for LDPs. A perfect example of how luck is required sometimes. Deer did end up going 171, so it was as advertised. Narrow, but tall.

That afternoon a small storm came through and broke a little before dark. The deer were up moving and I was more interested in taking pictures of deer than going and exploring new territory. We found some younger buck we hadn’t seen yet and pretty much just killed the evening waiting on the steakhouse in town to open. With the guy who had just tagged out planning to fly out the next day a little before lunch, we formulated a game plan that he could hang back to pack and two of us would go out the following morning. I sat there thinking and the deer that was shot that day was a long ways from where we normally get into deer in that area, so we made a plan to head out super early to get back into that area.

Day 5 arrived and we were on our way into prime deer habitat on winter range. I had 200” on my mind and was planning on holding out until last day. A short way into the journey, I spotted a raghorn bull and thought it would be okay to take a second to get the camera out before spooking him. Snapped a few pictures of him as he was heading to cover and was on my way again. Further into the trip I saw a few bucks up on a ridge in front of some quakies feeding and put glass on them. Nothing I wanted to spend much time looking at was up there so kept going. Came out of a low spot and could see a ways off that there were some deer in a thin patch of quakies sitting out in the middle of nowhere. I walked on out where they could see me and the lead doe looked at me for a second and then turned her attention back to something else. I wondered what she was looking at because in my experience that means there’s either a coyote or something above her in the pecking order she’s taking note of.

I topped the ridge she was able to see over and 2 nice bucks busted out of the thin strip of cover just on the other side. Rifle shouldered, I looked the bucks over in the scope and both deer were nice. One was a tall typical that was just perfect, but small bodied in comparison to the other. The other a wide, massive framed typical with weak G2s. They were making tracks and closing in on private when I made the judgment call on the one with the giant frame because in my mind if he had decent G2s that would be my 200” deer. First shot barely missed ham and ran up into vitals, that put the brakes on him and he just stood there, hunkered up, looking at the other buck continue on. Chambered another round and that one anchored him. I sat there eyeballing the deer and got on the sat phone to tell the guy back at camp that there was one on the ground only to find out that he was locked out of the cabin and trying to find a way in because I had the key. So the message was relayed to the other guy and I sat there with the deer for an hour just admiring it and triple checking the GPS to make sure the fence about 20’ away was really the boundary line. The camera showed up, LDPs taken and smiles all around. The perfect ending to a great trip to Colorado.

[Ender]

Now we're talking this is what I've been missing

[rjvero]

Illinois bucks!

They have haunted me for the last two years. Close encounters and I just couldn’t seem to get it done. When I say close I mean 5 yards close. I vowed this year to take care of business and put my tag on one of those whitetails that have teased me in the years past. I normally take a week off during the first of November to head north to Illinois, but this year I chose to use a little more annual leave and take a full two weeks. Surely, with that kind of time I could run a Killzone® through a buck, zip tie my tag to his antlers and bring him back to Louisiana.

I did not know that this year I would have a helping hand.

It has been a tough year for me and The Trisler Family. On February 6th, I lost my Dad, fellow hunter and mentor to a hard fought battle with MDS—a form of Leukemia. Our camp was built on the banks of Bull Lake Slough and has all of the hunting and fishing that Louisiana has to offer. The bayous are fed by Black River and the Larto Lake complex which creeps their way through Dewey Wills Management Area and borders our camp. I grew up there during the summer and fall months wetting a line, chasing deer and enjoying a campfire and the stories told around those fires. It was my Dads get away and a place that he held close to his heart. It was a place that all were welcome and hunting wasn’t taken all that serious.

A few years ago Harvey Ray White began camping, hunting and fishing with us. As my Dad and Harvey Ray were fishing one morning, Harvey Ray pulled a green Gatorade cap out of his pocket and mentioned to Daddy that he had something for him. As a joke, he had made Dad a “membership button” to his camp. On this “button” he had written “Bull Head Slough, F&H Club" with a large number 1 right in the center to signify my Dads founding membership status. After a good laugh my Dad stuck the "membership button" in his pocket for safe keeping.

After his passing my Mom found the button a few months later and wanted to know if I wanted it. Knowing the importance of it to my Dad I gladly accepted and mentioned to her that I would use it as a good luck charm for the upcoming hunting season. I kept it in my truck and thought about it several times while bow hunting Louisiana in October but never took it to the stand with me.

After a few days in Illinois hunting with the guys at NAP and good friend Larry Crawford, I thought of “my secret weapon” that I was carrying in the truck. The weather was warming up as a front approached and the deer movement was slowing down—and a little extra help couldn’t hurt. That Saturday morning as I loaded all my gear I went to my truck and grabbed the “button” and pinned it to my cap not really thinking of the significance of what I was doing.

That morning I was hunting the edge of a CRP field that dropped off into a hardwood bottom with several fingers feeding into it. At 9:00am I noticed horns slipping through the bottom and I grabbed my bow and grunt call. After a couple of grunts the buck looked my way and began a slow trot in my direction. He stopped at 50 yards and began looking for the buck he had just heard so I gave him a couple more soft grunts. The buck ran my way barely allowing me enough time to drop the call, draw my bow, and settle the pin behind his shoulder at 20 yards.

After calming my nerves and shaking “buck fever” I called my wife and told her that I would be coming home a bit early this year. I then began to think about the good luck charm on my cap. I called my Mom and told her what had happened with a shaky voice and tears rolling down my face. We had a laugh then a cry. I climbed out of my stand and began the short blood trail with the help of Larry Crawford and his son Eric.

There is no doubt that Dad was with me that morning in the woods of Illinois. He may have left the shot up to me but I believe it was Daddy that helped persuade that buck to travel within my bow range that morning. It has been like that my entire life. He would give me a helping hand to point me in the right direction and leave it up to me to get the job done.

Daddy………we got the job done this year!

Good story. Many great times hunting with my dad. Now hunting with my son.

[d_e_smith]

Stand Your Ground

Opening evening of rifle season, 2013, I was sitting on my upper hay field stand overlooking a 2 acre foodplot out in a thicket and able to cover 500 yds both ways down the field. Down one way was a big hill that I couldn’t see over, and I made a habit of parking under a big oak on the other side of it to keep my truck in the shade and down in that little hole where deer could walk all around the field and never see it unless they left out by the oak.

Not a whole lot was going on, coyotes were cutting up everywhere. Back behind my food plot another half mile, I could see a fella riding around on his mule with 2 GSPs barking as they followed wanting to hitch a ride. I was getting a little irritated and then someone back around that guy decided to start target practicing about 30 minutes before dark. I chalked it up as being a wasted evening, but was going to stay until dark. Wind was stout out of the South and I could faintly hear squealing coming from the lower end of the field that I couldn’t see. Another shot from Mr. Target practice and I decided it was a good opportunity to hop out of the stand and truck it to get to the other end of the field to see if I could cut into a herd of hogs that had been plaguing my feeders.

I’m moving pretty good as I get to the top of the big hill towards the truck and I can’t see any hogs in the field past the truck, but scanning around I see 2 heads looking at me from over the side of the hill that falls off towards a creek. They’re only about 50 yards away (maybe) and I don’t see horns, but they haven’t ran off so I decided to try to slip on by and leave them be. I glance over to the other side of the field when I start walking again and I see a deer standing in the edge of the woods looking at me. I put the scope up and it was hard to make out which buck it was I was looking at. Camera history the past few days told me it should be a 3yo 10pt that was off limits, but still a really good, tall-tined deer. I keep on walking still thinking I need to get to my other feeders because I’m still hearing pigs squealing. I get another 10yds and just decide to look back where the buck was standing and it’ had closed the distance down between us and is on a trot coming towards me. It dawned on me that this buck really didn’t know what I was and I was too close to his ladies on the other side of the hill. Out in the field it was really clear that it was not the 3yo 10pt I was looking at, but one of the older bucks I had on camera. He closed down the distance inside of 30yds and finally could see the does over the hill then briefly flared towards them. I always have reservations about filling the 1 13” tag for the county that early in the year, but looking at the deer in person instead of in pictures got the best of my so I lined up a shot and made short work of it…without sitting my mug of tea down. I watched him kick and saw him go over the hill towards the does. No doubt in my mind that the buck wouldn’t make it out of the field. My phone starts vibrating and it’s my wife and that “oh snap” moment came over me since I had just shot yet another deer she picked out. I broke the news to her gently and she said before I do anything else to get in the truck and come get her because she wasn’t standing out on the road after dark waiting for the hogs and bobcats to run her over. I crank the truck as soon as it leaves her mouth and she busts out with “are you friggin’ kidding me” did you shoot it from the truck……long story, honey. So I get her and make the trip back to the other side of the place. By this time it’s pitch dark and I’m going to have to find a deer in calf high grass. I pull up to the top of the hill and cut the headlights in the direction the way the deer ran and I could made out a beam sticking up about 20yds down the hill. I cut it to back up to him. I was watching it in the back-up camera and when I finally park where I can see the majority of its rack I had that “holy crap, batman!” moment. The deer was bigger than I thought it was. So we got to sit on the tailgate, in no hurry and drink an adult beverage or 2 while admiring the deer and telling my wife the story. So an evening that I expected to be a complete waste of time ended up being fruitful and I can actually tell people I’m so special that a buck over 6yo actually come hunt me down and asked to be shot.