The morning was wet. It had rained all night and was a steady drizzle at 7, making the morning even darker. The rain didn't bother me any, yesterdays hunt was a barrage of crunching sticks, leaves, and cones underfoot, not to mention the myriad snowberry, rose, and kinnikinnick branches that reach almost to the knee and stuck to my pant legs, making more noise. I welcomed the rain, despite the slight discomfort of sitting and walking in the wet.
My plan was to greet the sun from a little clearing a few hundred yards up the road. There was a nice deer trail in to the open, guarded by small pines to hide my movement and to decoy my shape. I had scouted it yesterday and had watched a doe and her fawn grazing. Earlier this fall I had scouted the back side of this clearing, found the day bed of a very nice buck. That was my intended target yesterday, but things don't always work out as we plan.
Opening Day was on Saturday but I was busy, so Sunday was my first. I started at noon, that day bed with the gorgeous 8 point (4+4) on my mind. The approach is quite difficult, starting with a walk down the road, almost to the tracks, then slipping into deep woods to the left, working my way back and down a hill to the backside of the clearing. I started walking back on the road, not walking particularly slowly, although quietly, thinking about my approach. A decent sized 4 point (2+2) jumped out to the right and stopped behind a tree. I scoped him as he started walking away. Walking, not running. It was a retreating quartering shot, not an easy one to take but I knew to aim higher than expected. I had hunted all of 8 minutes, I was standing ON the road, this just didn't feel right! To be legal I had to take one step off the road itself, but no, I was simply not ready for this one, so I let him walk away. Then I decided to stalk him; there is a much greater impetus for good stalking and patient movement when one KNOWS that there is a buck ahead, somewhere. I suspect he turned right, I turned left to explore another area I love to hunt. I found a blood spot but could find no others to track, and eventually made it back to the road to attempt my original plan.
I missed my mark to the back of the clearing, coming in too shallow and too close to the road, so I made my way to the road to try the approach to the clearing from the road itself. It was a good approach except the sun which was in my face if I sat or moved on the side with good cover. Still, I got to watch those does and they weren't bothered too much by me. One saw me and stared but I stayed still until she relaxed. But no bucks this time. A short evening hunt to the north only revealed a few does.
The wet made my footsteps silent as I moved in the dark up the well-worn deer trail, crouching low as I neared the end of the little pines, finding a spot to sit in the rain to watch the dawn with the clearing in front.
I only saw two does at a distance, walking pretty quickly with tails at half-alert, but I don't think from me, I had been sitting still for far too long and was well camouflaged where I sat. After sun-up, or at least when the grey was a little brighter, I decided to move to a completely different spot, one that had good cover from the rain but still with graze. I walked back down the road, towards the house, then cut left on a trail I know well. I had gotten a buck near here two years back and have scouted it many times.
The trail starts in deep woods but then opens up into several different types of habitat, cutting through on the edge of a hill. Down to the right is deep deciduous swampland with decent openings. Ahead is fairly open, mature pine forest on the hillside with lots of graze, some groves of little pines for cover. The top of the hill is to the left and over that hill is pretty open grazing land. I decided to make my way slowly to the left. This is a good ledge for hunting with views down into the swamps on one side and down into fairly open grazing on the other, all with good cover.
My movements are good today, muffled by the wet. The rain slows to a drizzle, then stops. I move a little, stop and take it all in, move a little. When I feel like it I kneel and stay still for a long time, listening, watching, smelling, feeling. Ahead I see a large, mature pine with dry under it. The view from the tree is excellent from all sides with lots of open lanes through different habitats and foliage. I slowly make my way there, delicately kneeling down for a rest in the dry. My senses are alive, the trees are still dripping a little, there is no wind so any movement will stand out. Perhaps 10 minutes pass and straight ahead, about 60-70 yards away, a buck steps around the corner. He is spooked, irritated by something, perhaps me. My gun is on my lap but he is looking right at me so I can't move much. He stamps his feet and looks away as I start to slowly, ever so slowly raise my rifle to my shoulder. He takes a step ahead, stamps some more. I scope him, see his horns. He is standing sideways to me, not moving forward. This is the one. I aim for the lungs and heart, and squeeze one. It rings true, he jumps and starts to run but with wounded movements. I stand and load another, picking up my spent shell (I'm no litterbug!). I walk to where he was, move forward about another 40-50 yards and see him lying down, already gone. I would love to say it was a 'perfect' shot but it exited through his shoulder; hopefully it didn't ruin too much of that meat.
He was a heavy one and a hard drag to near the road where I met Indigo after calling her on the radio. He now hangs in the garage, all cleaned and ready for the butcher. This was the first time I have cleaned a deer completely by myself; it seemed to go just fine. Thank you my friend, you will become part of me and I will appreciate and cherish you.
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