It's hard to even kick the story off when you've killed your lifetime deer... Some of you keep up with my live hunts and know the time and effort I put in every year. It's hard. Some years I question my sanity and wonder why I do it to myself. Killing a big deer where they live is a special thing. Killing one where they're not supposed to be killable... It's a challenge most aren't willing to accept. 173 6/8. Still to date that is the biggest deer I've ever killed. That was my Kansas deer in 2013 and I killed him with my bow. Yesterday evening I killed one that blows that one out of the water, he didn't score as high, but is still currently my "biggest deer".
The Davey Crockett National Forest is over 160,000 acres of extremely pressured whitetail deer habitat. Once rifle season begins just seeing a deer should be chalked up to a successful hunt. Orange vests flood the woods, people that know what they're doing and people that don't have a clue are all stomping through the same stuff. To survive long enough to be over 13" in that environment those deer have had multiple experiences that heighten their senses to an entirely different level. They're by far and away the most challenging animal I've ever pursued. When the stars line up and you put one on the ground you can truly be proud of your accomplishment because you have done something special.
I've already had a pretty dang good season. On my MLD lease in Trinity Co I killed a very nice deer that grossed just shy of 140". That's a monster in its own right. After that I was banished back to the Gubment Woods as they're so commonly called around here. In most years I'm totally prepared for that. I've done my due diligence during the summer: ran cameras, scouted from a distance, found productive food sources, and found thickets that they're going to get in once the pressure gets on them. There's no magic spot. This stuff changes sometimes as often as weekly and from year to year it can be completely different than the last. This year with a demanding tournament schedule and working Mon-Fri I just didn't have the time to do what I needed to do.
I've been scouting as I hunt. If you've followed my live hunts in the past you've heard me talk about hunting from the "outside in" or "observation stands". That's what I've been doing a lot of and having some limited success. I've seen some nice deer but nothing that really got me jacked about getting after them. Saturday evening I had been talking to my buddy Burr. He's one of the best deer hunters I know and maybe the best I know in the National Forest. We bounce a ton of info back and forth to each other but we have completely different hunting styles. He asked, "Have you been over to the Cemetery Road this year?" I said, "Not this year." "There's a bunch of deer over there. Hell, just go get on the edge of one of those thickets and get up high. I don't know if you'll kill a big one, but you'll see a bunch of deer."
Shoot, that sounded like a good plan to me. Sunday morning I woke up and decided I'd rather snuggle my babies than freeze to death so I went back to bed. About 6:30 is the latest those heathens are going to let you sleep so I was up but still laying in bed when Steph came in and said, "Are you going hunting today? If you are you need to go on and go. I'm giving the house a deep clean and you're not sitting here watching TV while I do it. If you want to hunt that's fine but you need to go now." Easy enough! I kissed the babies and headed west.
I drove through a lot of woods that morning looking for something to jump out at me. Some stuff I'd hunted before, some I'd never laid eyes on. I rode through to the Cemetery Rd and turned off on one of the little FS roads and there was a truck parked at the entrance to one of the places I really wanted to look at. I debated driving on in but decided that since they were there they could have it. I rode over to my buddy Mark (Downtown44)'s house for a cup of joe and some conversation. I told him my game plan and he felt like it was a pretty good one too. About 12:30 I left his house and headed back where I'd just come from... The truck was still there.
Oh well, one thicket is as good as the next. I drove on down the main road until I found one that I liked. The wind was right so I figured I'd just get comfortable in my climber and sit all evening. I got out and was changing into my hunting clothes when the white truck came driving by. I debated things for a second and threw all my gear back in the truck and went back where I originally wanted to scout. Once I got in there I found an impossible thicket with a finger of timber running through the middle of it. Trails where everywhere and I figured it was as good of a spot as any to get way up in my climber and see a bunch of territory. I walked about 150yds down the edge of the timber and picked out a pine with a small post oak grown next to it to break up my outline. I climbed up, got settled into place at about 1pm.
At about 1:15 I hear something to the east and close. I'm scanning through the brush and 20yds away I see a pigs head rooting around. I hate pigs! I twisted in the stand and put 129gr right through his ear. It didn't take long for him to stop flopping and I sat back down thinking, "Welp... there goes my hunt over shooting a stupid pig." I look back west and see a buck coming out of the hole in the timber. I was pretty excited about that because clearly the noise hadn't messed it up like I thought it would. He was completely oblivious to my presence and milled around for a while before returning to where he'd come from. I started studying the area he'd come from and where it led and there was a very subtle trail leading through the thicket. I made a mental not to scout that better and possibly hang a bow stand there for next year.
Not long after the sun started heading down in the west. It was so bright that I couldn't stand to look that way even with my Costa's on. For about an hour and a half it was blinding bright to the west and all I could do was stare at the thicket. The sun finally started losing the fight with the moon and got behind the tops of the trees enough for me to look back west. That little hole in the brush intrigued me and I kept watching it. Once the sun went down a little more, I pulled my glasses off and hung them on the stand. When I looked up a doe stepped out of the hole.
She wasn't alone. There was nothing to indicate that for a few minutes except her body language. She kept looking back but not in the way a doe looks for her fawns. I began to hear footsteps. Stuff cracking in the timber, it was a pretty fair amount of noise really. I grabbed my binos and stared through the hole when a little bitty doe stepped through. "No way you made all of that noise by yourself." BRAAAAP!!! That grunt made the hair stand up on my neck. The pessimist in me just knew it was the little 8 from earlier, the optimist in me screamed inside, "Come on out here and be Ol Big!" Almost as soon as that thought went through my mind Ol Big did what I asked him to do. (Before God as my witness I have chills typing this now).
His right side showed up at around 40 yards in my binos for long enough for me to know he was big... really big! I got rid of those binos in a hurry and started hunting me some .26 Nosler!
I couldn't see him right away but knew he had to come out on that trail with the doe. My heart was absolutely racing in overload. "Is he as big as I think he really is? OF COURSE HE IS DUMMY, YOU JUST LOOKED AT HIM!" I'm scanning through and looking over the scope trying to find anything that made me think it was him coming through the thicket. The only thing I can hear is my heart pounding through my ears. I have totally lost control of myself at this point, THERE HE IS!!!!!
I could just make out the tips of his horns, then his head. "Shoot him in the neck! YOU DON'T HAVE LONG!!!" All of that racing through my mind and trying to stay focused to do what I needed to do. I was shaking too bad and he was moving too fast for a neck shot but dang it I can't see his shoulder. Geez he's big! There it is, you've only got a second, BOOOOOOM!!!!
When I recovered from the recoil there was blood spraying like a faucet! He was still getting away faster than I like, BOOOOOOOM!!!! His back feet went over his horns and I lost him. I jumped up (not super smart when you're 35' up a pine with no harness) and totally lost control. I was shaking so badly I was afraid to even try and sit down. I picked my phone up and called Mark. "Did you get him?" "DUDE HE'S A MONSTER I JUST KILLED A MONSTER!!!" "You need some help? "YES, I COULD USE SOME FOR SURE! I DON'T EVEN THINK I CAN GET DOWN OUT OF THE TREE!" He hung up and I called GarGuy. "Well... how big is he? If you're calling at this time of day you must have one." "HE'S HUGE! I mean I think he is. Hell, he's big but like... I don't really even know what he is. He's big enough though." "How big is big?" "I don't know man, BIG! Somewhere between 130 and 170!" "Bring him by when you get him."
It was still a little while before dark but I wanted to get to him while it was decent light so I marked where I thought he went down and started through the tangled mess to him.
It must've taken a while to get there too or Mark drove really really fast because he was pulling up by my truck as I walked up to my buck. I climbed up on a fallen pine log, whistled, and waved my orange cap. I looked back down at what I'd done and was totally in awe. I'd never killed a deer with a frame that big.
All of the standard high 5's and man hugs, congrats hand shakes, retelling the story again and again took place. We snapped a couple of pics and drug him through that impossible mess. I can't thank Mark enough. You can't dream up how bad this stuff was. I drove out to the Barclay's to show it to Steve and Mr. David. When Mr. David whistled and said, "My lands what a set of horns!" I knew I'd done something special.
When the tally was done he totaled up to 161 2/8". Not that the score makes the deer, but a 160 in public land? You bet I've got my chest out! I'm more proud of this deer than any 5 others combined that I've killed. I'm blessed, humbled, and thankful. The Good Lord blessed this dumb redneck 1 more time and I thank Him for it.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
The Davey Crockett National Forest is over 160,000 acres of extremely pressured whitetail deer habitat. Once rifle season begins just seeing a deer should be chalked up to a successful hunt. Orange vests flood the woods, people that know what they're doing and people that don't have a clue are all stomping through the same stuff. To survive long enough to be over 13" in that environment those deer have had multiple experiences that heighten their senses to an entirely different level. They're by far and away the most challenging animal I've ever pursued. When the stars line up and you put one on the ground you can truly be proud of your accomplishment because you have done something special.
I've already had a pretty dang good season. On my MLD lease in Trinity Co I killed a very nice deer that grossed just shy of 140". That's a monster in its own right. After that I was banished back to the Gubment Woods as they're so commonly called around here. In most years I'm totally prepared for that. I've done my due diligence during the summer: ran cameras, scouted from a distance, found productive food sources, and found thickets that they're going to get in once the pressure gets on them. There's no magic spot. This stuff changes sometimes as often as weekly and from year to year it can be completely different than the last. This year with a demanding tournament schedule and working Mon-Fri I just didn't have the time to do what I needed to do.
I've been scouting as I hunt. If you've followed my live hunts in the past you've heard me talk about hunting from the "outside in" or "observation stands". That's what I've been doing a lot of and having some limited success. I've seen some nice deer but nothing that really got me jacked about getting after them. Saturday evening I had been talking to my buddy Burr. He's one of the best deer hunters I know and maybe the best I know in the National Forest. We bounce a ton of info back and forth to each other but we have completely different hunting styles. He asked, "Have you been over to the Cemetery Road this year?" I said, "Not this year." "There's a bunch of deer over there. Hell, just go get on the edge of one of those thickets and get up high. I don't know if you'll kill a big one, but you'll see a bunch of deer."
Shoot, that sounded like a good plan to me. Sunday morning I woke up and decided I'd rather snuggle my babies than freeze to death so I went back to bed. About 6:30 is the latest those heathens are going to let you sleep so I was up but still laying in bed when Steph came in and said, "Are you going hunting today? If you are you need to go on and go. I'm giving the house a deep clean and you're not sitting here watching TV while I do it. If you want to hunt that's fine but you need to go now." Easy enough! I kissed the babies and headed west.
I drove through a lot of woods that morning looking for something to jump out at me. Some stuff I'd hunted before, some I'd never laid eyes on. I rode through to the Cemetery Rd and turned off on one of the little FS roads and there was a truck parked at the entrance to one of the places I really wanted to look at. I debated driving on in but decided that since they were there they could have it. I rode over to my buddy Mark (Downtown44)'s house for a cup of joe and some conversation. I told him my game plan and he felt like it was a pretty good one too. About 12:30 I left his house and headed back where I'd just come from... The truck was still there.
Oh well, one thicket is as good as the next. I drove on down the main road until I found one that I liked. The wind was right so I figured I'd just get comfortable in my climber and sit all evening. I got out and was changing into my hunting clothes when the white truck came driving by. I debated things for a second and threw all my gear back in the truck and went back where I originally wanted to scout. Once I got in there I found an impossible thicket with a finger of timber running through the middle of it. Trails where everywhere and I figured it was as good of a spot as any to get way up in my climber and see a bunch of territory. I walked about 150yds down the edge of the timber and picked out a pine with a small post oak grown next to it to break up my outline. I climbed up, got settled into place at about 1pm.
At about 1:15 I hear something to the east and close. I'm scanning through the brush and 20yds away I see a pigs head rooting around. I hate pigs! I twisted in the stand and put 129gr right through his ear. It didn't take long for him to stop flopping and I sat back down thinking, "Welp... there goes my hunt over shooting a stupid pig." I look back west and see a buck coming out of the hole in the timber. I was pretty excited about that because clearly the noise hadn't messed it up like I thought it would. He was completely oblivious to my presence and milled around for a while before returning to where he'd come from. I started studying the area he'd come from and where it led and there was a very subtle trail leading through the thicket. I made a mental not to scout that better and possibly hang a bow stand there for next year.
Not long after the sun started heading down in the west. It was so bright that I couldn't stand to look that way even with my Costa's on. For about an hour and a half it was blinding bright to the west and all I could do was stare at the thicket. The sun finally started losing the fight with the moon and got behind the tops of the trees enough for me to look back west. That little hole in the brush intrigued me and I kept watching it. Once the sun went down a little more, I pulled my glasses off and hung them on the stand. When I looked up a doe stepped out of the hole.
She wasn't alone. There was nothing to indicate that for a few minutes except her body language. She kept looking back but not in the way a doe looks for her fawns. I began to hear footsteps. Stuff cracking in the timber, it was a pretty fair amount of noise really. I grabbed my binos and stared through the hole when a little bitty doe stepped through. "No way you made all of that noise by yourself." BRAAAAP!!! That grunt made the hair stand up on my neck. The pessimist in me just knew it was the little 8 from earlier, the optimist in me screamed inside, "Come on out here and be Ol Big!" Almost as soon as that thought went through my mind Ol Big did what I asked him to do. (Before God as my witness I have chills typing this now).
His right side showed up at around 40 yards in my binos for long enough for me to know he was big... really big! I got rid of those binos in a hurry and started hunting me some .26 Nosler!
I couldn't see him right away but knew he had to come out on that trail with the doe. My heart was absolutely racing in overload. "Is he as big as I think he really is? OF COURSE HE IS DUMMY, YOU JUST LOOKED AT HIM!" I'm scanning through and looking over the scope trying to find anything that made me think it was him coming through the thicket. The only thing I can hear is my heart pounding through my ears. I have totally lost control of myself at this point, THERE HE IS!!!!!
I could just make out the tips of his horns, then his head. "Shoot him in the neck! YOU DON'T HAVE LONG!!!" All of that racing through my mind and trying to stay focused to do what I needed to do. I was shaking too bad and he was moving too fast for a neck shot but dang it I can't see his shoulder. Geez he's big! There it is, you've only got a second, BOOOOOOM!!!!
When I recovered from the recoil there was blood spraying like a faucet! He was still getting away faster than I like, BOOOOOOOM!!!! His back feet went over his horns and I lost him. I jumped up (not super smart when you're 35' up a pine with no harness) and totally lost control. I was shaking so badly I was afraid to even try and sit down. I picked my phone up and called Mark. "Did you get him?" "DUDE HE'S A MONSTER I JUST KILLED A MONSTER!!!" "You need some help? "YES, I COULD USE SOME FOR SURE! I DON'T EVEN THINK I CAN GET DOWN OUT OF THE TREE!" He hung up and I called GarGuy. "Well... how big is he? If you're calling at this time of day you must have one." "HE'S HUGE! I mean I think he is. Hell, he's big but like... I don't really even know what he is. He's big enough though." "How big is big?" "I don't know man, BIG! Somewhere between 130 and 170!" "Bring him by when you get him."
It was still a little while before dark but I wanted to get to him while it was decent light so I marked where I thought he went down and started through the tangled mess to him.
It must've taken a while to get there too or Mark drove really really fast because he was pulling up by my truck as I walked up to my buck. I climbed up on a fallen pine log, whistled, and waved my orange cap. I looked back down at what I'd done and was totally in awe. I'd never killed a deer with a frame that big.
All of the standard high 5's and man hugs, congrats hand shakes, retelling the story again and again took place. We snapped a couple of pics and drug him through that impossible mess. I can't thank Mark enough. You can't dream up how bad this stuff was. I drove out to the Barclay's to show it to Steve and Mr. David. When Mr. David whistled and said, "My lands what a set of horns!" I knew I'd done something special.
When the tally was done he totaled up to 161 2/8". Not that the score makes the deer, but a 160 in public land? You bet I've got my chest out! I'm more proud of this deer than any 5 others combined that I've killed. I'm blessed, humbled, and thankful. The Good Lord blessed this dumb redneck 1 more time and I thank Him for it.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
. I like it. A deer like that deserves it. Congrats Steve!
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