Send us your best whitetail stuff (and don't forget to attach pictures!)
Russell Graves - Believes whitetails shouldn't be photographed in the back of a truck with their tongue hanging out.
Location - Texas
Brian Strickland - Has 369,518 acres of land that you can hunt on. Call him at (555) 281-HUNT.
Location - Colorado
Tony Hansen - Is pretty confident Michigan will release at least 300,000 archers into the woods this fall.
Location - Michigan
Jake Fagan - He's really just here to hang out, so don't mind him.
Location - Georgia
Will Brantley - Loves hunting in a dorag because it makes him look Ramboish. Some may call it Little Man Syndrome.
Location - Tennessee
Friday, October 30, 2009
Buddy's Nice 8-pointer
Last season, I was hunting a large buck on public land that was jumping a barbed wire fence onto a private cattle pasture. The bow season was short on this particular tract of Ozark National Forest. I came up empty after two weeks of hunting this area.
I took a copy of a county plat map and aerial photo to the cattle ranchers’ house. I politely introduced myself and pulled out those maps. We poured over the maps as I explained my hunting predicament.
I had been hunting near his property for eight years and needed his permission to continue my deer season. I was shocked when he said “yes” and overwhelmed when he offered me a key to the gate. He told me that most people jumped the fence and trespassed on his land. Some of them even stole deer stands. I was the first to ask permission.
The 2009 muzzleloader season in Arkansas opened the morning of Oct.17th.
I decided to hang a lock-on stand in a lone hickory tree that sits in the middle of the pasture. I would be able to watch deer on three different hillsides from 100 to 400 yards.
This idea paid off quickly. I spotted three does behind my stand to the south, then four more to my right walking from a neighbor’s property. Bucks began to appear in the clover patches on the western hillside (out of range). I watched two small bucks feed for 10 minutes, and then a shooter buck walked out 20 minutes later.
Later that afternoon, I returned to my stand around 3pm. It only took an hour for the big 8 point to make his way back into the clover on the far left hillside. I glassed him again for several minutes, but a group of does winded me and snorted, causing him to leave the field.
I didn’t hunt Saturday morning due to frustration and fatigue.
There was heavy frost on the ground and the wind was calm. I watched college football and cooked out until mid afternoon. The weather had warmed into the mid 60’s with a 10-mph wind. I was debating on staying home, but something told me to go out anyway.
I unloaded the 4-wheeler and packed my warm clothes in the backpack.
I decided to hunt from the ground in the funnel-draw where deer had been entering and leaving the pasture. There were 3 different rub lines in the funnel. I sat on a cushion near the top of that funnel. Numerous fallen trees and busted limbs covered the hillside. I found a spot under a small red oak to set up and cleared a couple shooting lanes.
By 5:30, it began cooling down. Squirrels began making their usual racket as they scurried the forest floor for acorns. I heard some blue jays chime in as well. This tipped me off that something was approaching from a big tangle of trees at the head of the draw. I spotted movement in my right eye a few moments later. It was that big 8-pointer walking slowly on the opposite hillside.
I bleated at him, and he stopped. He froze at 120 yards with his head behind an oak and his body broadside in the biggest shooting lane that was available. I shouldered my muzzleloader and looked into the scope. The crosshairs were centered on his front shoulder. I took a deep breath and began to slowly exhale as I eased back on the trigger. The muzzleloader fired and smoke filled the woods in front of me. I didn’t know if I had missed or not, but I heard a faint crash in the distance.
I searched for a while, but couldn’t find anything—no blood, hair, bone—nothing. It was getting darker by the minute so I tried not to panic. I made a semi-circle on the deer trail and noticed the direction of the rub line where that buck once stood. I followed the rustled leaves and rubs for 10 yards. At this point, I dropped to my knees, looked to the sky, and prayed. I then stood up and looked at the fencerow; there he was. His antlers were tangled in the barbed wire.
Great buck, man. Proof positive that leaving your treestand for a quick and stealthy ground hunt can be the best way to fill a tag. It also goes to show that even in this day of expensive leases, knocking on a farmer's door and politely asking permission can still pay off.
-Will
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