Well, he isn't the biggest but it was one of those hunts where everything worked so slick I couldn't pass him up.
I got a LOT (landowners tag) to hunt our farm early muzzleloader season. Our soybeans had been harvested, but all our corn was still standing. I hunted the edges for what seemed many mornings and evenings, saw a fair number of deer, filled my three LOT early muzzleloader antlerless tags, but hadn't seen any decent sized bucks. I passed on numerous 1.5 year olds and a couple of 2.5 year olds. I decided that the big dogs must be holed up in the corn, so I decided to go in after them.
I took a walk through the corn to try to find a trail. I headed down the middle contour grass strip on the west half of a 75 acre field. It basically runs north and south, dog legging west(the dog leg portion runs over the top of a saddle) at the south end, terminating at a brushy draw. Last January, I raised Cain in this draw, dropping tons of box elders with the chainsaw creating a tangled mess. Today was the first time back to the area since January. The fallen trees have been grown over with vines and weeds, an impenetrable tangle, just as I had envisioned it, hopefully a buck bedding area.
When I got to the dog leg heading west, I noticed a pretty decent trail. My initial plan was to go sit in the brushy draw, maybe jump shoot anything I spooked on the way in. When I saw this trail, I figured I could watch it from the edge of the corn. I had already walked part of the way west, backed out, and then headed back north up the contour. I sat down behind a clump of foxtail. The wind was blowing from the trail to me, so the deer shouldn?t scent me. Sitting there, I started worrying about the scent I had left on the trail. If a deer was to head east on the trail, it would run into my scent before I would be able to see it. I thought maybe if I was on the south side, looking west down the dog leg, I would see them before they hit my trail. The corn rows were planted north and south, so I lay down between two and got ready. I had forgotten my camo face mask, so I wetted some already muddy clay soil with some spit and painted my face. The time was now 5 pm. I worried that if anything came from the east, I would be busted. My worries were confirmed, as I heard some movement in the corn, looked over and I was about three corn rows separated from a doe. She wheeled around and tore out of there. This was somewhat good. Now I was sure that anything coming would be from the west. I watched the minutes tick off the clock. My arms were getting tired of propping my torso up and my neck was getting sore from holding up my head. Around 6:40 pm, I saw tines coming from the west. The deer was stopped at the end of the dog leg, looking like he was contemplating whether to go east (by me) or continue down the brushy draw south. He looked to be a 2.5 year old nine point. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, but was surely only a minute or two. I lifted the rifle up and slide it between a couple of corn stocks so that it was pointed his direction. I zoomed the scope to 7X and centered the crosshairs on his throat patch. Being in the prone position, I was steady as a rock. Increasing the pressure on the trigger, the Savage barked and the deer reared slightly up and fell on its right side. The bullet broke his neck and cut the jugular vein, never exiting. I stepped off the distance at 30 yards.
It was one of those days when things just seemed to work as planned and those days seem to be few and far between!
Sorry for the bad pic, my digital camera died and all I had handy was my cell phone. I'm contemplating waiting for Santa to bring me a new camera, but with archery and shotgun seasons before then...
I got a LOT (landowners tag) to hunt our farm early muzzleloader season. Our soybeans had been harvested, but all our corn was still standing. I hunted the edges for what seemed many mornings and evenings, saw a fair number of deer, filled my three LOT early muzzleloader antlerless tags, but hadn't seen any decent sized bucks. I passed on numerous 1.5 year olds and a couple of 2.5 year olds. I decided that the big dogs must be holed up in the corn, so I decided to go in after them.
I took a walk through the corn to try to find a trail. I headed down the middle contour grass strip on the west half of a 75 acre field. It basically runs north and south, dog legging west(the dog leg portion runs over the top of a saddle) at the south end, terminating at a brushy draw. Last January, I raised Cain in this draw, dropping tons of box elders with the chainsaw creating a tangled mess. Today was the first time back to the area since January. The fallen trees have been grown over with vines and weeds, an impenetrable tangle, just as I had envisioned it, hopefully a buck bedding area.
When I got to the dog leg heading west, I noticed a pretty decent trail. My initial plan was to go sit in the brushy draw, maybe jump shoot anything I spooked on the way in. When I saw this trail, I figured I could watch it from the edge of the corn. I had already walked part of the way west, backed out, and then headed back north up the contour. I sat down behind a clump of foxtail. The wind was blowing from the trail to me, so the deer shouldn?t scent me. Sitting there, I started worrying about the scent I had left on the trail. If a deer was to head east on the trail, it would run into my scent before I would be able to see it. I thought maybe if I was on the south side, looking west down the dog leg, I would see them before they hit my trail. The corn rows were planted north and south, so I lay down between two and got ready. I had forgotten my camo face mask, so I wetted some already muddy clay soil with some spit and painted my face. The time was now 5 pm. I worried that if anything came from the east, I would be busted. My worries were confirmed, as I heard some movement in the corn, looked over and I was about three corn rows separated from a doe. She wheeled around and tore out of there. This was somewhat good. Now I was sure that anything coming would be from the west. I watched the minutes tick off the clock. My arms were getting tired of propping my torso up and my neck was getting sore from holding up my head. Around 6:40 pm, I saw tines coming from the west. The deer was stopped at the end of the dog leg, looking like he was contemplating whether to go east (by me) or continue down the brushy draw south. He looked to be a 2.5 year old nine point. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity, but was surely only a minute or two. I lifted the rifle up and slide it between a couple of corn stocks so that it was pointed his direction. I zoomed the scope to 7X and centered the crosshairs on his throat patch. Being in the prone position, I was steady as a rock. Increasing the pressure on the trigger, the Savage barked and the deer reared slightly up and fell on its right side. The bullet broke his neck and cut the jugular vein, never exiting. I stepped off the distance at 30 yards.
It was one of those days when things just seemed to work as planned and those days seem to be few and far between!
Sorry for the bad pic, my digital camera died and all I had handy was my cell phone. I'm contemplating waiting for Santa to bring me a new camera, but with archery and shotgun seasons before then...
