Have just returned to civilization after a great weekend with great friends. For the past 4-5 years, I have hunted a friend's ranch east of Amarillo. It's an enormous low-fenced ranch with tremendous potential for big deer. Over the years, I have seen many good bucks, but until this weekend I had not been presented the opportunity to harvest a mature buck.
Over the last month we have been watching two really good bucks, both easily patterned this early in the season. We had buckets of rain coming down Friday night as the front passed through the Panhandle. Saturday morning, we woke to strong north winds and a temperature in the 40's...unlike any opening morning I had ever experienced. I left the Thermacell at the house!
I was headed to hunt in a creek bottom where I had just set up my quadpod the day before in a terrific spot with incredible cover. As everything around me began to wake up and sun crept over the trees, I could see a good-sized deer running down the fence line to my right. As he stood atop the bank of the creek, I tried to get a peek at him through my rangefinder but there was not enough light. As he stood there, I knew he was a big buck. We had seen a giant 10 with a kicker off of his G2 at this setup, along with a nice 9pt, and I knew it had to be one of them. Sure enough, this buck hustles down the bank and is headed straight at me. The only problem is that I'm facing him with no way to draw on him without getting busted. I thought about swiveling my chair, but did not want to spook him. He turned broadside at about 15 yards, but with no shooting lane and no way to draw on him I let him continue towards the feeder...or at least I thought that's where he was headed. I had my bow upright and ready to draw. Trees and undergrowth clouded my vision of him, but I thought for sure he was headed to eat. I was wrong. He circled the feeder and was headed away from me. Having had time to look back on it, he was probably headed to his favorite rub and/or scrape and was gonna come back to the feeder. Unfortunately, he got downwind of me and bolted. My heart sank. I just knew that he was going to present me with a shot opportunity and that I was going to harvest what would have been my best buck ever...and all of this in the first 10 minutes of the season. It was not to be. Frustrated with the situation, I knew we still had several more hunts ahead of us before it was time to head home.
After putting in some work around the ranch, we headed out Saturday afternoon about 4:30pm as I thought the feeder was set to go off at 5:45. About 5:15 four toms came in and fed for a bit. I tempted to pop one, but did not want to disturb the area. 5:45 came and went without the feeder going off, then 6, then 6:15, then 6:30 and nothing. It was just me and a few quail, that I actually enjoyed watch feed. I was frustrated, especially given my missed opportunity that morning. See my texts with bdphunt...my source for all of my bowhunting advice and thoughts and boredom:
6:45 comes and goes and still no corn or deer. Then, just a tick after 7:00 the feeder throws. With just 30 minutes until sunset, I positioned myself for the only shot I had, a small window through the trees. I set my bow upright and rested my lead hand on my left let so that all I had to do if a shooter walked out was draw.
Within minutes two good looking young 8's appeared, followed by a yearling buck and a doe. I knew there was a big, old 10 who frequented this spot. As the 8's milled around, I had the thought that maybe this was the crowd that the old 10 was running around with. Sure enough, it was. As I was watching the group feed around me, I looked up and the old 10 had appeared out of nowhere. Man, was he huge. I took one look at his horns and knew he was a shooter...and that was the last time I looked at those horns. I focused in on his body and he fed to my right, just out of my shooting lane. He was a horse...giant build and belly. I knew he was old and mature. Now, I just had to wait for the right opportunity to draw. He fed to my right for what seemed like forever...long enough that I began to wonder if I was going to be on the short end of the stick two hunts in a row. He would turn to come into my shooting lane and then turn away at the last minute. My wind was great and I knew I just had to be patient. Finally, he headed right to left. He needed to take two more steps before he would open up that left leg and give me the shot I wanted. When he did, I drew back without a sound and let her fly. Here is the text exchange that followed:
I tried to wait as long as I could stand it. I could see the arrow on the ground, covered in red blood and knew right away it was a good shot.
The deer came back and I let out my turkey call. I couldn't stand it. As soon as they left again, I hopped down out of my stand and went to look where he was standing to see if there was any blood...and there was.
I knew he was dead, but after some coaxing from bdphunt, I decided to give him some time. In the midst of our texting, I heard "the crash". I called my buddy and waited for him to drive over. By the time he arrived it had been about 20 minutes. We decided to walk to that last place I had seen the old 10, about 50 yards from the shot. I began looking for blood and it didn't take long to find it. The Slick Trick had done it's job. I had double-lunged him and he was pumping blood out of both sides. It was the best blood trail I have ever seen and made the recovery an easy one. We found him approximately 60 yards for the shot. He was dead and I had my best buck ever on the ground. Boy, he looked big laying there. As I drug him out of the brush, the ground shrinkage began or so I thought. I began having doubts as to whether it really was the old 10.
Bdphunt was right. It was the old 10. His massive body size threw me off. This was not the Bosque County deer I am used to. He was easily 200+ pounds of big, old buck. From looking at game cam pics of him, I thought he was 145+, with a chance to be 150.
That big body had me fooled again. Here he is, all 161 inches of low fence age and nutrition. I could not be more excited. Blessed and humbled by the opportunity to harvest such a deer. He is in great hands now, with TBH's very own Chance Love.
It was a long drive back to Waco, but it was awfully fun to look in the back seat and see this...
Over the last month we have been watching two really good bucks, both easily patterned this early in the season. We had buckets of rain coming down Friday night as the front passed through the Panhandle. Saturday morning, we woke to strong north winds and a temperature in the 40's...unlike any opening morning I had ever experienced. I left the Thermacell at the house!
I was headed to hunt in a creek bottom where I had just set up my quadpod the day before in a terrific spot with incredible cover. As everything around me began to wake up and sun crept over the trees, I could see a good-sized deer running down the fence line to my right. As he stood atop the bank of the creek, I tried to get a peek at him through my rangefinder but there was not enough light. As he stood there, I knew he was a big buck. We had seen a giant 10 with a kicker off of his G2 at this setup, along with a nice 9pt, and I knew it had to be one of them. Sure enough, this buck hustles down the bank and is headed straight at me. The only problem is that I'm facing him with no way to draw on him without getting busted. I thought about swiveling my chair, but did not want to spook him. He turned broadside at about 15 yards, but with no shooting lane and no way to draw on him I let him continue towards the feeder...or at least I thought that's where he was headed. I had my bow upright and ready to draw. Trees and undergrowth clouded my vision of him, but I thought for sure he was headed to eat. I was wrong. He circled the feeder and was headed away from me. Having had time to look back on it, he was probably headed to his favorite rub and/or scrape and was gonna come back to the feeder. Unfortunately, he got downwind of me and bolted. My heart sank. I just knew that he was going to present me with a shot opportunity and that I was going to harvest what would have been my best buck ever...and all of this in the first 10 minutes of the season. It was not to be. Frustrated with the situation, I knew we still had several more hunts ahead of us before it was time to head home.
After putting in some work around the ranch, we headed out Saturday afternoon about 4:30pm as I thought the feeder was set to go off at 5:45. About 5:15 four toms came in and fed for a bit. I tempted to pop one, but did not want to disturb the area. 5:45 came and went without the feeder going off, then 6, then 6:15, then 6:30 and nothing. It was just me and a few quail, that I actually enjoyed watch feed. I was frustrated, especially given my missed opportunity that morning. See my texts with bdphunt...my source for all of my bowhunting advice and thoughts and boredom:
6:45 comes and goes and still no corn or deer. Then, just a tick after 7:00 the feeder throws. With just 30 minutes until sunset, I positioned myself for the only shot I had, a small window through the trees. I set my bow upright and rested my lead hand on my left let so that all I had to do if a shooter walked out was draw.
Within minutes two good looking young 8's appeared, followed by a yearling buck and a doe. I knew there was a big, old 10 who frequented this spot. As the 8's milled around, I had the thought that maybe this was the crowd that the old 10 was running around with. Sure enough, it was. As I was watching the group feed around me, I looked up and the old 10 had appeared out of nowhere. Man, was he huge. I took one look at his horns and knew he was a shooter...and that was the last time I looked at those horns. I focused in on his body and he fed to my right, just out of my shooting lane. He was a horse...giant build and belly. I knew he was old and mature. Now, I just had to wait for the right opportunity to draw. He fed to my right for what seemed like forever...long enough that I began to wonder if I was going to be on the short end of the stick two hunts in a row. He would turn to come into my shooting lane and then turn away at the last minute. My wind was great and I knew I just had to be patient. Finally, he headed right to left. He needed to take two more steps before he would open up that left leg and give me the shot I wanted. When he did, I drew back without a sound and let her fly. Here is the text exchange that followed:
I tried to wait as long as I could stand it. I could see the arrow on the ground, covered in red blood and knew right away it was a good shot.
The deer came back and I let out my turkey call. I couldn't stand it. As soon as they left again, I hopped down out of my stand and went to look where he was standing to see if there was any blood...and there was.
I knew he was dead, but after some coaxing from bdphunt, I decided to give him some time. In the midst of our texting, I heard "the crash". I called my buddy and waited for him to drive over. By the time he arrived it had been about 20 minutes. We decided to walk to that last place I had seen the old 10, about 50 yards from the shot. I began looking for blood and it didn't take long to find it. The Slick Trick had done it's job. I had double-lunged him and he was pumping blood out of both sides. It was the best blood trail I have ever seen and made the recovery an easy one. We found him approximately 60 yards for the shot. He was dead and I had my best buck ever on the ground. Boy, he looked big laying there. As I drug him out of the brush, the ground shrinkage began or so I thought. I began having doubts as to whether it really was the old 10.
Bdphunt was right. It was the old 10. His massive body size threw me off. This was not the Bosque County deer I am used to. He was easily 200+ pounds of big, old buck. From looking at game cam pics of him, I thought he was 145+, with a chance to be 150.
That big body had me fooled again. Here he is, all 161 inches of low fence age and nutrition. I could not be more excited. Blessed and humbled by the opportunity to harvest such a deer. He is in great hands now, with TBH's very own Chance Love.
It was a long drive back to Waco, but it was awfully fun to look in the back seat and see this...
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