All my life I’ve had a thing for numbers, and my favorite number has always been ‘10.’ So when Gary and I got engaged in the spring of ‘09, I knew that October 10th, 2010 would obviously be the perfect wedding date. But Gary was quick to kick that idea to the curb, exclaiming that there was no way he was going to get married during hunting season 
. He had no interest in a lifetime of trying to fit an anniversary into the midst of hunting plans! So, we eventually decided on another date. And the thoughts of 10/10/10 soon faded.
That was until I was on the phone booking a cabin for the upcoming season. Gary and I had done some footwork and we organized a great group of friends to get together and travel to Kansas. I booked a 12 day hunting trip, starting on October 1st. When I realized that we would be in Kansas on that special day, I immediately sent Gary a text: "Do you realize we are going to be in Kansas on 10/10/10? That's going to be the day I kill a Monster Buck.” He laughed, thinking “there she goes with that date again.”
I was especially excited about this year’s season. It would be my first year of hunting a Whitetail buck. When I met my husband in ‘07 I was completely against killing any "poor little innocent animal.” I tell people I was just shy of being a card-carrying member of PETA
. As I became educated on the sport, I realized that bow hunting was not only very rewarding, but it was also fair. I started with smaller game - hunting hogs and javelina. I sat with Gary and watched him hunt his deer. And this year I was ready to graduate to my own first buck.
The first day of our hunt we were all very optimistic because a cold front had come in and we expected to see a ton of movement. I climbed up into my strategically placed stand that sits in a wood line with a corn field on one side and CRP field on the other. To my disappointment I only saw a couple of does and yearlings. Days 2, 3 and 4 all proved to be the same. The cold weather quickly left and unusually warm temperatures set in. It was more than a little disheartening.
But on day 5 things turned up a notch. I could hear the deer starting to make their way out into the cornfield to my right. I tried as best I could to look through the green leaves still on the tree to see which way they would head. Visibility was awful, but without a doubt I could see the white horns of a Kansas buck that qualified to be my first buck ever. The leaves were too thick to view many details, but I KNEW he was a shooter. As I followed him with my binoculars he walked into a very small clearing in the trees. I got about 3 seconds to see exactly what he was: eight point, long tines, not very heavy mass, but huge mature body. He was about a 130 class deer, an awesome first buck!
My heart began to beat like never before. I couldn't control my breathing. It was impossible to keep my binoculars steady as I followed him through the leaves. What was wrong with me? Was this the infamous "buck fever" everyone talks about? It sounded like Darth Vader was hyperventilating in the stand with me. "Chill Out" I told myself. "He's 100 yards away, you cant see him anymore and he may not even come back this way.”
Despite my attempts to calm down, my heart just got faster right along with my breathing and shaking. At this point I knew the buck had traveled in the opposite direction away from me and would not be returning. I started thinking, “what if he had walked into my shooting hole? Would I have been able to pull my bow in this unfamiliar condition?” I was sure I could. I had faithfully practiced every day for the month before the trip. So, out of curiosity I reached for my bow, took a deep breather and pulled back. It didn't budge. I giggled, rolled my eyes and tried again. It still didn't move. "You have got to be kidding me" I whispered. I hung the bow back up in disbelief. I just needed a few minutes maybe. I spent the next 15 minutes steadying my breath and having a heart-to-heart with myself. Role playing, I said "Ok, this is it" ... "the real deal".... "there's a buck in front of you and you gotta take the shot".... I picked the bow back up, clipped on, took a big long breath and pulled... Nothing! I looked at my bow, completely puzzled. I thought “well maybe there's some sort of locking mechanism on this bow that I never noticed. It's possible I hit it.” Now, I have been shooting this Mathews Bow for almost 3 years and I know every inch of it. And I know darn well there's no locking mechanism. But it was easier to believe that, than to think some silly deer could get the best of me. Nightfall came. I climbed down from the stand and waited near the edge of the field for Gary to pick me up. I was completely over the buck sighting now and decided to try one last time. Shockingly, I still couldn't pull it. As you can imagine I was completely embarrassed to have to explain to my husband why I needed him to turn my bow down. When I told him I got my first taste of "buck fever" he said, "it’s good stuff, huh"? I have to admit, I couldn't wait to get it again.
The weather was getting hot - hitting the 90's. The deer just weren't moving. There was nothing on our cameras and that one buck sighting was not enough to keep the spirits of our fellow hunters up. The morning of day 7 everyone except for me and my husband decided to head back to Texas.
We had traveled too far to not try and make the best of these 12 days. For the next few hunts there was no change. It was getting very frustrating. On the way home on day 8 I said, "well I don't know about you but I'm gonna kill my big Kansas Monster on Sunday"... "oh yeah, why’s that?" he asked.
"’Cause its 10/10/10, remember?!!" He gave me a funny look and said, "I hope you’re right."
It was a cold morning. I put on my lucky undies, my coveralls, and laced up my boots. "THIS IS IT" I said, as I clapped and rubbed my hands together. "THIS IS THE BIG DAY" I made my way over to the mirror to powder my nose. " I gotta look my best!" I said. "What are you talking about?" a groggy Gary asked. "It's 10/10/10," I said. “Today’s gonna be the day I get my Monster Kansas White Tail; I gotta look good for the picture! WooHoo!" I had seen that "you’re crazy" look on his face before. But I was having fun with it.
I got into my stand at about 6am, a full hour before daylight. As soon as I got settled in I could hear movement. First, there was a single deer standing right under me. I imagined it must be a huge buck as I listened to him enjoy his acorn breakfast. Soon after that, I heard the crushing of leaves as another single deer walked by. "Yep, that had to be a buck," I thought to myself. This morning has started like none other. All the movement of single deer traveling. And so close I could hear them breathe. It was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. This teasing was like torture! I wanted more than anything to know what was out there. But it was so dark that I couldn't see my own hands in front of me. Minutes later I could hear more acorns loudly crunching about 24 yards in front of me. At this point I thought there might be just enough light that I could make something out through my binoculars. I slowly lifted them up and strained to make out what it was. You wouldn't believe me unless you saw it with your own eyes. Standing 24 yards away were 2 of the biggest bucks I'd ever seen - other than on TV.
The silhouette on the left had the smaller rack, and I watched as he reached high up into the leaves of the tree and tore away the acorns. The silhouette on the right was the one that really took my breath away. He chose the fallen acorns. I couldn't make his tines but his body was huge, his beams were heavy and he was as wide as the day is long. They each had a half dozen acorns and were on their way. I just sat there in disbelief that this was happening. Was I dreaming? All these days of hunting with only seeing one buck and now this.
I just had 2 buck at 24 yards and couldn't see my sight pins. Was I being Punk'd? Every minute felt like an hour, till it was finally 7:15am. I could clearly see the sight pins and was fully prepared to smoke the next buck that came near me.
Nothing was in sight. At 7:30 still nothing, 8, 8:30, 9.... still absolutely nothing... At 9:30 I picked up my phone in disgust and sent Gary a text.
I told him,"here's the plan: at 10am, get out of your stand and very quietly come to mine. I saw where those bucks headed and it’s possible they bedded up around this bend by the CRP field. Maybe we can put a stalk on them." As the time ticked by ever so slowly and without even a squirrel in sight, I had enough of this torturous morning hunt. I sent another text, " I'm ready when you are." I received a quick response, "getting down now," he wrote. Immediately, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement. OMG! THAT'S A BUCK!! Not just any buck, but the kind that could be 120 yards away with no binoculars and know," Yep, that's a shooter!"
My fingers never moved so fast as I texted, "BUCK!".... "NO"... "STOP"....
I grabbed my bow and got clipped on. I took a quick look through my binoculars, just to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me... Nope, that was without a doubt a shooter buck and he was strolling straight down the trail leading right under my stand. A thousand questions started running though my mind, should I stand up? or should I stay sitting? Should I take the shot straight down as he is approaching or should I do it after he passes? When should I draw? Do I remember what the ranges are to the spots I picked? And most importantly, why am I looking at the ground over my right shoulder if the buck is coming from my left? I took a deep breath and let the air out loudly enough to hear the soothing sound of the breath escape my lips. I turned and looked directly to my left. "YEP! He's still coming" I thought, as a force swung my head back to the right. I knew I should really be keeping my eye on him, but I feared that the "buck fever monster" would creep up again. Every few seconds I would take that loud soothing breath and check the closing distance between the buck and me. I prayed that he would turn and go to the acorn tree that the previous bucks had snacked at in front of me. I didn't want to have to make the straight down shot.
The time had come; he was at 20 yards. I kept my eyes only on his body. Then he stopped. "Why’s he stopping?" I wondered. I sat as still as could be. I watched in excitement as he made a left hand turn to circle exactly in front of me. He slowly strolled, circling at 17 yards. I couldn't have placed a practice target in a more perfect spot. I started to draw back. He stopped; I waited. He started again. As he walked behind the acorn tree I drew; I followed him with my pin, I let out the quietest grunt possible. He stopped and my arrow flew. WHACK! I smoked him!! I saw blood pour as he ran out of sight. OMG! I did it... I smoked him! Perfect shot! I smoked him, I SMOKED him. I grabbed my phone and called Gary. Amazingly, he had seen the whole thing from his stand 100 yards away. "Can you see your arrow?" he asked. "Hold on," I said. I reached for my binoculars to look for my arrow. My hands where trembling so hard I couldn't see a thing. After 2 tries I gave up. "I can't see anything, my binoculars are moving too much! HAHA!!" I said.
I descended from my stand and retrieved my arrow - broken in half and covered in blood. I’d made a double lung/heart shot. I knew with that shot my buck wouldn't be far. After following a thick blood trail we finally stumbled onto my buck over 300 yards away. I'll never forget my husband’s first incredulous words, "what have you done!?" For a split second I thought I had made some sort of awful mistake; my mind raced with thoughts of what it could be. To my relief his next words were, "What have you killed, he's huge!" I put my hands around the horns I couldn't believe it.He had a live weight of 297# and green scored 158 1/8
. After all the hours of practice, all the scouting, setting stands, early mornings, and having to travel with 5 men, I had my hands on a once-in-a-lifetime trophy buck.
So now I hold the record for the biggest buck in our camp. The guys say I'm "spoiled rotten" and "ruined for life.” I tell them it was just my lucky day. Would you believe I took my first buck on the 10th day of our hunt, on 10/10/10 at 10 minutes to 10am?
Coincidence or Des"ten"y? .
. He had no interest in a lifetime of trying to fit an anniversary into the midst of hunting plans! So, we eventually decided on another date. And the thoughts of 10/10/10 soon faded.That was until I was on the phone booking a cabin for the upcoming season. Gary and I had done some footwork and we organized a great group of friends to get together and travel to Kansas. I booked a 12 day hunting trip, starting on October 1st. When I realized that we would be in Kansas on that special day, I immediately sent Gary a text: "Do you realize we are going to be in Kansas on 10/10/10? That's going to be the day I kill a Monster Buck.” He laughed, thinking “there she goes with that date again.”
I was especially excited about this year’s season. It would be my first year of hunting a Whitetail buck. When I met my husband in ‘07 I was completely against killing any "poor little innocent animal.” I tell people I was just shy of being a card-carrying member of PETA
. As I became educated on the sport, I realized that bow hunting was not only very rewarding, but it was also fair. I started with smaller game - hunting hogs and javelina. I sat with Gary and watched him hunt his deer. And this year I was ready to graduate to my own first buck.The first day of our hunt we were all very optimistic because a cold front had come in and we expected to see a ton of movement. I climbed up into my strategically placed stand that sits in a wood line with a corn field on one side and CRP field on the other. To my disappointment I only saw a couple of does and yearlings. Days 2, 3 and 4 all proved to be the same. The cold weather quickly left and unusually warm temperatures set in. It was more than a little disheartening.
But on day 5 things turned up a notch. I could hear the deer starting to make their way out into the cornfield to my right. I tried as best I could to look through the green leaves still on the tree to see which way they would head. Visibility was awful, but without a doubt I could see the white horns of a Kansas buck that qualified to be my first buck ever. The leaves were too thick to view many details, but I KNEW he was a shooter. As I followed him with my binoculars he walked into a very small clearing in the trees. I got about 3 seconds to see exactly what he was: eight point, long tines, not very heavy mass, but huge mature body. He was about a 130 class deer, an awesome first buck!
My heart began to beat like never before. I couldn't control my breathing. It was impossible to keep my binoculars steady as I followed him through the leaves. What was wrong with me? Was this the infamous "buck fever" everyone talks about? It sounded like Darth Vader was hyperventilating in the stand with me. "Chill Out" I told myself. "He's 100 yards away, you cant see him anymore and he may not even come back this way.”
Despite my attempts to calm down, my heart just got faster right along with my breathing and shaking. At this point I knew the buck had traveled in the opposite direction away from me and would not be returning. I started thinking, “what if he had walked into my shooting hole? Would I have been able to pull my bow in this unfamiliar condition?” I was sure I could. I had faithfully practiced every day for the month before the trip. So, out of curiosity I reached for my bow, took a deep breather and pulled back. It didn't budge. I giggled, rolled my eyes and tried again. It still didn't move. "You have got to be kidding me" I whispered. I hung the bow back up in disbelief. I just needed a few minutes maybe. I spent the next 15 minutes steadying my breath and having a heart-to-heart with myself. Role playing, I said "Ok, this is it" ... "the real deal".... "there's a buck in front of you and you gotta take the shot".... I picked the bow back up, clipped on, took a big long breath and pulled... Nothing! I looked at my bow, completely puzzled. I thought “well maybe there's some sort of locking mechanism on this bow that I never noticed. It's possible I hit it.” Now, I have been shooting this Mathews Bow for almost 3 years and I know every inch of it. And I know darn well there's no locking mechanism. But it was easier to believe that, than to think some silly deer could get the best of me. Nightfall came. I climbed down from the stand and waited near the edge of the field for Gary to pick me up. I was completely over the buck sighting now and decided to try one last time. Shockingly, I still couldn't pull it. As you can imagine I was completely embarrassed to have to explain to my husband why I needed him to turn my bow down. When I told him I got my first taste of "buck fever" he said, "it’s good stuff, huh"? I have to admit, I couldn't wait to get it again.
The weather was getting hot - hitting the 90's. The deer just weren't moving. There was nothing on our cameras and that one buck sighting was not enough to keep the spirits of our fellow hunters up. The morning of day 7 everyone except for me and my husband decided to head back to Texas.
We had traveled too far to not try and make the best of these 12 days. For the next few hunts there was no change. It was getting very frustrating. On the way home on day 8 I said, "well I don't know about you but I'm gonna kill my big Kansas Monster on Sunday"... "oh yeah, why’s that?" he asked.
"’Cause its 10/10/10, remember?!!" He gave me a funny look and said, "I hope you’re right."
It was a cold morning. I put on my lucky undies, my coveralls, and laced up my boots. "THIS IS IT" I said, as I clapped and rubbed my hands together. "THIS IS THE BIG DAY" I made my way over to the mirror to powder my nose. " I gotta look my best!" I said. "What are you talking about?" a groggy Gary asked. "It's 10/10/10," I said. “Today’s gonna be the day I get my Monster Kansas White Tail; I gotta look good for the picture! WooHoo!" I had seen that "you’re crazy" look on his face before. But I was having fun with it.
I got into my stand at about 6am, a full hour before daylight. As soon as I got settled in I could hear movement. First, there was a single deer standing right under me. I imagined it must be a huge buck as I listened to him enjoy his acorn breakfast. Soon after that, I heard the crushing of leaves as another single deer walked by. "Yep, that had to be a buck," I thought to myself. This morning has started like none other. All the movement of single deer traveling. And so close I could hear them breathe. It was enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up. This teasing was like torture! I wanted more than anything to know what was out there. But it was so dark that I couldn't see my own hands in front of me. Minutes later I could hear more acorns loudly crunching about 24 yards in front of me. At this point I thought there might be just enough light that I could make something out through my binoculars. I slowly lifted them up and strained to make out what it was. You wouldn't believe me unless you saw it with your own eyes. Standing 24 yards away were 2 of the biggest bucks I'd ever seen - other than on TV.
The silhouette on the left had the smaller rack, and I watched as he reached high up into the leaves of the tree and tore away the acorns. The silhouette on the right was the one that really took my breath away. He chose the fallen acorns. I couldn't make his tines but his body was huge, his beams were heavy and he was as wide as the day is long. They each had a half dozen acorns and were on their way. I just sat there in disbelief that this was happening. Was I dreaming? All these days of hunting with only seeing one buck and now this.
I just had 2 buck at 24 yards and couldn't see my sight pins. Was I being Punk'd? Every minute felt like an hour, till it was finally 7:15am. I could clearly see the sight pins and was fully prepared to smoke the next buck that came near me.
Nothing was in sight. At 7:30 still nothing, 8, 8:30, 9.... still absolutely nothing... At 9:30 I picked up my phone in disgust and sent Gary a text.
I told him,"here's the plan: at 10am, get out of your stand and very quietly come to mine. I saw where those bucks headed and it’s possible they bedded up around this bend by the CRP field. Maybe we can put a stalk on them." As the time ticked by ever so slowly and without even a squirrel in sight, I had enough of this torturous morning hunt. I sent another text, " I'm ready when you are." I received a quick response, "getting down now," he wrote. Immediately, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of movement. OMG! THAT'S A BUCK!! Not just any buck, but the kind that could be 120 yards away with no binoculars and know," Yep, that's a shooter!"
My fingers never moved so fast as I texted, "BUCK!".... "NO"... "STOP"....
I grabbed my bow and got clipped on. I took a quick look through my binoculars, just to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me... Nope, that was without a doubt a shooter buck and he was strolling straight down the trail leading right under my stand. A thousand questions started running though my mind, should I stand up? or should I stay sitting? Should I take the shot straight down as he is approaching or should I do it after he passes? When should I draw? Do I remember what the ranges are to the spots I picked? And most importantly, why am I looking at the ground over my right shoulder if the buck is coming from my left? I took a deep breath and let the air out loudly enough to hear the soothing sound of the breath escape my lips. I turned and looked directly to my left. "YEP! He's still coming" I thought, as a force swung my head back to the right. I knew I should really be keeping my eye on him, but I feared that the "buck fever monster" would creep up again. Every few seconds I would take that loud soothing breath and check the closing distance between the buck and me. I prayed that he would turn and go to the acorn tree that the previous bucks had snacked at in front of me. I didn't want to have to make the straight down shot.
The time had come; he was at 20 yards. I kept my eyes only on his body. Then he stopped. "Why’s he stopping?" I wondered. I sat as still as could be. I watched in excitement as he made a left hand turn to circle exactly in front of me. He slowly strolled, circling at 17 yards. I couldn't have placed a practice target in a more perfect spot. I started to draw back. He stopped; I waited. He started again. As he walked behind the acorn tree I drew; I followed him with my pin, I let out the quietest grunt possible. He stopped and my arrow flew. WHACK! I smoked him!! I saw blood pour as he ran out of sight. OMG! I did it... I smoked him! Perfect shot! I smoked him, I SMOKED him. I grabbed my phone and called Gary. Amazingly, he had seen the whole thing from his stand 100 yards away. "Can you see your arrow?" he asked. "Hold on," I said. I reached for my binoculars to look for my arrow. My hands where trembling so hard I couldn't see a thing. After 2 tries I gave up. "I can't see anything, my binoculars are moving too much! HAHA!!" I said.
I descended from my stand and retrieved my arrow - broken in half and covered in blood. I’d made a double lung/heart shot. I knew with that shot my buck wouldn't be far. After following a thick blood trail we finally stumbled onto my buck over 300 yards away. I'll never forget my husband’s first incredulous words, "what have you done!?" For a split second I thought I had made some sort of awful mistake; my mind raced with thoughts of what it could be. To my relief his next words were, "What have you killed, he's huge!" I put my hands around the horns I couldn't believe it.He had a live weight of 297# and green scored 158 1/8
. After all the hours of practice, all the scouting, setting stands, early mornings, and having to travel with 5 men, I had my hands on a once-in-a-lifetime trophy buck.So now I hold the record for the biggest buck in our camp. The guys say I'm "spoiled rotten" and "ruined for life.” I tell them it was just my lucky day. Would you believe I took my first buck on the 10th day of our hunt, on 10/10/10 at 10 minutes to 10am?
Coincidence or Des"ten"y? .
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