Opening day of the whitetail deer gun season makes me feel 10 years younger. I’ve watched the sun come up on 49 seasons straight. For years, I hunted Jefferson County but now hunt close to home.
Last Saturday morning, I parked behind a landowner’s barn and walked a long lane to my tree stand. The morning before, the big buck I shot at on opening day of archery finally showed himself again.
He exited standing corn about 120 yards from my position. I used a grunt call to turn the 10-pointer my way, but he wouldn’t close the deal. All I could do is wish it were gun season. The buck stood broadside at 50 yards, then turned and walked away.
The big buck came back through awhile later. I tried rattling fake antlers and blowing the grunt call again. The deer looked my way, and then melted back into the standing corn. This was the only deer I saw from my stand.
My truck was parked at the edge of an open woodlot. The only cover was where a tree had fallen. At that spot, weeds and a few briars had grown. The area was no larger than the average living room. It turned out to be a bedroom for a big buck and doe.
Rather than try a running shot, I took a chance the buck would stop. He did stop for a second. I shot, and the buck and doe ran across the road. I watched them run the length of a plowed field and enter a woods.
I was pretty sure my slug missed its target, but I went the distance of the open field looking for blood. I found no sign the buck had been hit.
If I made a mistake, it was using Jourdan’s youth model Remington 870. It is more accurate than my 12-gauge with a lot less kick. The shorter stock on her gun would not have been a problem shooting from a rest in my stand, but in this situation it didn’t fit.
That evening, I hunted another woods down the road.
Squirrels kept me from getting bored until the deer showed up. One squirrel buried a nut and then neatly covered dirt over his tasty treasure. I watched a piney squirrel chase a fox squirrel from one tree to another.
At 4:40 p.m., movement caught my eye. A small doe came from my right and stopped. She kept looking over her shoulder. I saw a deer cross behind her. The doe stood almost motionless for 10 minutes, occasionally browsing the tips of a small tree.
Something was holding up the doe. Two woodpeckers next to me were making a lot of noise, but the doe paid them no mind. She kept staring straight ahead.
Finally, a small buck appeared and slowly walked toward the doe. Her tail went up, and she ran off. It was if to say, “I’m not ready for you yet — stay away.”
The buck slowly walked in the direction the doe took. He was very relaxed and browsed along the way.
I reasoned the deer were headed for a cornfield on the other side of the woods. I fought my way through heavy cover and eased into the edge of the picked corn. My gaze covered 400 yards of wood edge. There was not a deer in sight.
I keep telling myself, I enjoy the hunting more than the harvest. To that, I’m glad to still be looking for a nice buck.
Contact Rick Bramwell at rickbramwell@aol.com.
