My 2008 Buck

Jared and I went out this morning on the Opener. Nothin'! Jared saw some deer over on [Deleted]'s ... a buck and doe. The doe headed into the little draw, and the buck went east, probably to bed down in the open. I went over there, to the draw, but didn't see anything.

Discouraged, and at home, I spent some time with Jesus. Nothin' during early elk season - I just couldn't put it together. No fish this summer. No deer or elk during archery season. And no ducks or geese during the opener last weekend. LONG, DRY SPELL. Really long. Ughhhhhh. But in my quiet time, contemplating whether to go out again, with daughter coming home on college break and all, I felt impressed ... "don't give up, keep trying."

Jared came over and we went back out. He dropped me off low - I would head up to [Deleted]'s from below. He would hunt either where we were in the morning, or head out west.

I got up into the draw before the deer came out. Good. I got in position. Good. I ranged. Anything that would come out of the timber into the top of the draw would be within a 200 yard arc. I waited. And waited. And waited more. It was getting dark. Nothin'. Finally it was getting pretty dark, and still nothing.

With about two minutes of legal shooting left, I decided to pack up. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the flash of tail of a deer bounding up the draw. "Probly a big doe." It stopped at the edge of the field near some bushes. I pulled up my binos. Whoa, the buck! That rascal! ... was he there the whole time? I got to my gun and put the cross hairs on his shoulder. Though I had ranged the area earlier, I considered he might be over 200, so I put the cross hairs a bit high, a bit high of mid-height. I had a good, steady sight picture with the bi-pods. And fired. The report came back of a solid impact. The buck disappeared. But I knew.

In disappearing light I ranged where he had been ... 170 yards. I think he had hoped I couldn't see him between the bushes. So, I overestimated the range. But now I had the distance back to my stuff, in case I had to reverse range to find the deer. I got up to where I thought he was, and no deer. But over to the right I saw a flicker of something. A bird? No, an ear. The buck was lying head away, down, but alive. Due to his angle I couldn't shoot him again, and I was reluctant to go around, as he would see me and possibly get up and run off. (A shot at a bounding off deer is difficult, even at very close range.) But soon enough he sensed me, and started kicking and thrashing about, down into the draw. He stopped. I shot him in the neck below the head. And I shot him again.

I went around ... I looked at him looking at me. I would shoot no more. I waited. Every now and then he would kind of snort. But I did not dare get close - as a kick from one of those legs would bruise and hurt, and being jabbed by the antlers would be even worse.

I called Jared on my cell phone. No doubt he heard the shot(s) ... "I got him."

As Jared made his way over I started to bone the buck. The deer was dead now. I was amazed how rattled I was by the whole thing. A doe might thrash about a bit - but a buck is a whole different matter.

Once Jared got there we worked on the deer together, and after a bit I decided to go down for my pack. On the way back up I was amazed how with what ease I climbed up the draw. The inertia of being a bit overweight was gone. I felt light, free. Then the thing I love happened: just then a shooting star illuminated the sky as it plummeted down across the eastern sky. It was as if my heart was finally open (enough) to receive the miracles of the Universe, unfold to me.

I got up to Jared and we continued boning out the deer. "Dear Jesus, Thank You So Much for the Deer." Jared noted the pun. I asked Jared if he'd seen the shooting star. He said, `no'. How could he have missed it?

The thing I love has happened ... I got a nice Whitetail buck.

We finished and each took about half, and walked out the mile or so to the rig under a full moon - as bright as a well lit parking lot at midnight.

Endnotes:

1. Jared said the one I got was the one he had seen first thing in the morning, go east. That rascal ... he spent all day out in the open, lying between a house and the highway, and at dusk was going to join back up with the doe in the timber.

2. The `dry spell' is over. In just a few hours my daughter will get a buck (here). And after that Jared reports that he also got a buck over on [Deleted]'s. In the next few days I pursue does and the herd `crosses the highway' into country to the east. I get permission there also and fill my doe tag.

References

College Girl on Break, Jeff Filler, Associated Content.