muddy
Well-Known Member
It was a cool November morning, with temperatures in the low 20s, when two friends and I took off to south-central Iowa to some hunting ground my wife and I recently bought. This ground is 31 acres of beautiful oak timber containing a large pond.
Paul, Kelly and I arrived at 6:00 am to discuss which stand we would sit in for the morning's bow hunt. Paul said he'd hunt his stand, which was located 40 yards from the pond on a ridge, where 3 different trails, including an old logging road, intersected. Since Paul had already taken a nice-sized doe from that stand in October, he was pretty confident in the stand. Kelly had asked me which of four remaining stands that I wanted to sit in that morning. I told him that I would sit in the new ladder stand that he'd brought down that was set up in the bottom draw. Kelly said he'd sit in his stand that bordered the north side of the property on the fence road.
We were all in stand by 6:45 am with the sun scheduled to rise at 7:15 am. I experienced a lot of squirrel traffic and at approximately 7:15 am two does ran behind my stand. I was looking for a buck to be following the does, but nothing showed. I sounded my bleat call a couple of times followed by a couple of mature buck grunts and a young buck grunt. At 7:30 am, I heard the rustle of oak leaves on the hillside to the east. I thought it was squirrels again but decided to look anyway. I saw a deer through the thick oaks coming in my direction. I couldn't really make out the size of the deer, but he kept slowly walking down the hill with his nose to the ground As he got closer, I could tell he was a definitely a shooter but couldn’t get a shot due to the thick trees. As I considered my options I realized that I had two shooting lanes -- one to the north and one to the west. Fortunately for me, he had picked up the scent of the two does that had run through earlier. As he continued west he suddenly stopped behind a tree. While he was stopped I proceeded to turn completely around in my stand so I could be ready to shoot whenever the buck stepped forward and presented me with a shot. The buck then proceeded to go further west and while I was preparing for the shot a knock on one of the arrows hit the tree with a loud clicking sound.
I thought my chance at this buck was done. I went to full draw on the right side of the tree and the buck was standing behind a tree at 25 yards. I needed him to step forward two steps into a clearing at 20 yards. The buck took those crucial steps and I grunted, stopping him in his tracks. I settled the pin in the crease and let it fly. His side turned in to a big red target immediately and he then ran 40 yards across a dried creek bed and then crashed to the ground! While my heart pounded and my knees became weak, I hung my bow on a bow hook in the tree and sat down. While sitting there I kept watching the buck to make sure he get up and wander off.
Since we decided to call the morning hunt at 9:30 am, I didn't want to get out of stand and ruin the hunt for my buddies. So I waited with my eyes focused on the fallen buck, my bow still on the hook and saw five does come in from the south. They stopped right where the buck had crossed earlier, sniffing and browsing at 25 yards from my stand. Being very confident and not concerned about making any noise after what had just happened, I removed the bow from my hook, knocked an arrow and took aim. Not realizing I had not removed my shooting finger from underneath my shooting mitten, I fumbled around at full-draw trying to release my finger from the mitten. The mitten inadvertently hit my release with my Easton aluminum arrow and my Spitfire mechanical broad head hitting a tree, the size of a pop can, 10 feet above the ground.
The action was not to end as a doe crossed right where the buck had crashed, not seeming to even notice him. Three gobblers came by, right over the top of the downed buck and perched on a log -- all three in a row. I pulled out my range finder and ranged the turkeys at 45 yards. With me having my fall land owner turkey tag, I thought I would take a shot. I took an old arrow with a Razorback broad head and gave it a go, knowing they were out of my standard 40 yard range. My arrow proceeded to take flight in to a dead tree. I watched the arrow bounce off the tree and in to the creek bed with the broad head broken off cleanly.
At 8:30 am, I couldn't take the suspense anymore. I had to climb out of stand and look at my buck. I've been very fortunate over the years to have taken some nice trophy-sized bucks. In 1999, I arrowed a 135-class Pope and Young scored buck. In 2001, I took a 150-class buck during shotgun season. However, after traveling 40 yards to view the buck taken on November 12, 2006, I thought it was by far the largest I would ever take with a bow and appeared to be the buck of a lifetime. After looking him over, I decided to still hunt back towards the pond, hoping to kick something up for Paul or Kelly.
As I approached Paul's stand, he asked me to stop and look for blood on the oak leaves. I stopped, looked left and right, but nothing. I told him I had a buck down in the bottom draw and he told me he'd seen two nice bucks -- one, a tall 8-pointer 135-class; and one real wide racked deer that he couldn't put a number on, being the biggest buck he'd ever seen in this life. He said he'd shot at the wide-racked buck at approximately 25 yards and that the buck had taken off running in my direction.
He excitedly climbed down out of stand and started to describe this deer to me. I was in awe as it sounded like the same buck I had shot due to the description he gave me. I told him I hoped it wasn't because I wanted him to get a trophy deer also. But if it was, I didn't want the deer to die due to injury in the timber somewhere, and I was glad I was able to harvest it myself. Paul walked over to where he thought he'd hit the deer, and picked up his arrow that displayed a broken broad head. After looking at his arrow, I asked him why he was using that kind of a broad head. He explained to me that was the only one of that brand that he had in his quiver and had accidentally knocked that arrow up.
We continued talking about the wide-antlered buck and discussed that another hunting buddy of ours, Neil, had been to our ground two weeks prior and had also seen a wide-antlered deer which he described as “the largest he'd ever seen in his life.” Paul said if he missed the sweet-spot, he was sure he'd hit him in the shoulder. We walked back to the camper and met up with Kelly, who had not seen a deer at all that morning. We shared our stories and started making plans to go out and recover our bucks.
We took our old 4-wheel drive truck down the logging road to retrieve my buck. Paul was first to get out of the truck and look to see if it was the same deer he'd shot at earlier in the morning. As fate would have it, it was. He had missed the sweet spot by six inches -- being the longest six inches of his life. I was disappointed for Paul, but happy for myself to claim the first buck off our ground since we purchased it in May.
We took several pictures down in the draw and are anxiously awaiting the mount to be returned in time for the Iowa Deer Classic to be officially scored. Rick Adams, my taxidermist, from Indianola, Iowa, assured me that it would be ready for me to proudly display at the Classic. Without it being officially measured, and a G 2 out of place, I'm projecting the buck to be a 150-class.
I am proud to share this story with everyone, as it may be many years before I will be able to share this kind of a story again.
Paul, Kelly and I arrived at 6:00 am to discuss which stand we would sit in for the morning's bow hunt. Paul said he'd hunt his stand, which was located 40 yards from the pond on a ridge, where 3 different trails, including an old logging road, intersected. Since Paul had already taken a nice-sized doe from that stand in October, he was pretty confident in the stand. Kelly had asked me which of four remaining stands that I wanted to sit in that morning. I told him that I would sit in the new ladder stand that he'd brought down that was set up in the bottom draw. Kelly said he'd sit in his stand that bordered the north side of the property on the fence road.
We were all in stand by 6:45 am with the sun scheduled to rise at 7:15 am. I experienced a lot of squirrel traffic and at approximately 7:15 am two does ran behind my stand. I was looking for a buck to be following the does, but nothing showed. I sounded my bleat call a couple of times followed by a couple of mature buck grunts and a young buck grunt. At 7:30 am, I heard the rustle of oak leaves on the hillside to the east. I thought it was squirrels again but decided to look anyway. I saw a deer through the thick oaks coming in my direction. I couldn't really make out the size of the deer, but he kept slowly walking down the hill with his nose to the ground As he got closer, I could tell he was a definitely a shooter but couldn’t get a shot due to the thick trees. As I considered my options I realized that I had two shooting lanes -- one to the north and one to the west. Fortunately for me, he had picked up the scent of the two does that had run through earlier. As he continued west he suddenly stopped behind a tree. While he was stopped I proceeded to turn completely around in my stand so I could be ready to shoot whenever the buck stepped forward and presented me with a shot. The buck then proceeded to go further west and while I was preparing for the shot a knock on one of the arrows hit the tree with a loud clicking sound.
I thought my chance at this buck was done. I went to full draw on the right side of the tree and the buck was standing behind a tree at 25 yards. I needed him to step forward two steps into a clearing at 20 yards. The buck took those crucial steps and I grunted, stopping him in his tracks. I settled the pin in the crease and let it fly. His side turned in to a big red target immediately and he then ran 40 yards across a dried creek bed and then crashed to the ground! While my heart pounded and my knees became weak, I hung my bow on a bow hook in the tree and sat down. While sitting there I kept watching the buck to make sure he get up and wander off.
Since we decided to call the morning hunt at 9:30 am, I didn't want to get out of stand and ruin the hunt for my buddies. So I waited with my eyes focused on the fallen buck, my bow still on the hook and saw five does come in from the south. They stopped right where the buck had crossed earlier, sniffing and browsing at 25 yards from my stand. Being very confident and not concerned about making any noise after what had just happened, I removed the bow from my hook, knocked an arrow and took aim. Not realizing I had not removed my shooting finger from underneath my shooting mitten, I fumbled around at full-draw trying to release my finger from the mitten. The mitten inadvertently hit my release with my Easton aluminum arrow and my Spitfire mechanical broad head hitting a tree, the size of a pop can, 10 feet above the ground.
The action was not to end as a doe crossed right where the buck had crashed, not seeming to even notice him. Three gobblers came by, right over the top of the downed buck and perched on a log -- all three in a row. I pulled out my range finder and ranged the turkeys at 45 yards. With me having my fall land owner turkey tag, I thought I would take a shot. I took an old arrow with a Razorback broad head and gave it a go, knowing they were out of my standard 40 yard range. My arrow proceeded to take flight in to a dead tree. I watched the arrow bounce off the tree and in to the creek bed with the broad head broken off cleanly.
At 8:30 am, I couldn't take the suspense anymore. I had to climb out of stand and look at my buck. I've been very fortunate over the years to have taken some nice trophy-sized bucks. In 1999, I arrowed a 135-class Pope and Young scored buck. In 2001, I took a 150-class buck during shotgun season. However, after traveling 40 yards to view the buck taken on November 12, 2006, I thought it was by far the largest I would ever take with a bow and appeared to be the buck of a lifetime. After looking him over, I decided to still hunt back towards the pond, hoping to kick something up for Paul or Kelly.
As I approached Paul's stand, he asked me to stop and look for blood on the oak leaves. I stopped, looked left and right, but nothing. I told him I had a buck down in the bottom draw and he told me he'd seen two nice bucks -- one, a tall 8-pointer 135-class; and one real wide racked deer that he couldn't put a number on, being the biggest buck he'd ever seen in this life. He said he'd shot at the wide-racked buck at approximately 25 yards and that the buck had taken off running in my direction.
He excitedly climbed down out of stand and started to describe this deer to me. I was in awe as it sounded like the same buck I had shot due to the description he gave me. I told him I hoped it wasn't because I wanted him to get a trophy deer also. But if it was, I didn't want the deer to die due to injury in the timber somewhere, and I was glad I was able to harvest it myself. Paul walked over to where he thought he'd hit the deer, and picked up his arrow that displayed a broken broad head. After looking at his arrow, I asked him why he was using that kind of a broad head. He explained to me that was the only one of that brand that he had in his quiver and had accidentally knocked that arrow up.
We continued talking about the wide-antlered buck and discussed that another hunting buddy of ours, Neil, had been to our ground two weeks prior and had also seen a wide-antlered deer which he described as “the largest he'd ever seen in his life.” Paul said if he missed the sweet-spot, he was sure he'd hit him in the shoulder. We walked back to the camper and met up with Kelly, who had not seen a deer at all that morning. We shared our stories and started making plans to go out and recover our bucks.
We took our old 4-wheel drive truck down the logging road to retrieve my buck. Paul was first to get out of the truck and look to see if it was the same deer he'd shot at earlier in the morning. As fate would have it, it was. He had missed the sweet spot by six inches -- being the longest six inches of his life. I was disappointed for Paul, but happy for myself to claim the first buck off our ground since we purchased it in May.
We took several pictures down in the draw and are anxiously awaiting the mount to be returned in time for the Iowa Deer Classic to be officially scored. Rick Adams, my taxidermist, from Indianola, Iowa, assured me that it would be ready for me to proudly display at the Classic. Without it being officially measured, and a G 2 out of place, I'm projecting the buck to be a 150-class.
I am proud to share this story with everyone, as it may be many years before I will be able to share this kind of a story again.