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    If a little is good a lot is better... at least when referring to corn piles


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      Originally posted by Yelladog View Post
      Decided to try some vanilla corn on a narrow trail I cut during the summer. Can see it from the same stand I can see my feeder. Figured they might like that area as it’s pretty narrow and really thick all around. Have seen this one a few times at the feeder but not consistent. He seemed to like the vanilla corn a lot. My son passed him yesterday thinking he would come around to the feeder and instead he left when the feeder went off. He was 2nd guessing that decision. So this morning he had a 9 at the feeder that has some age on him also he was getting ready to shoot the 9 and took 1 more look at the corn pile and the 8 was standing in it. He didn’t pass him again. This is a great thread with great info thanks everyone for keeping it going. Corn pile and tailgate pic for garguy [emoji1]
      ,



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      Yeah BUDDY!

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        I seen you posted and my heart got to pumping


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          Originally posted by ethic1 View Post
          I seen you posted and my heart got to pumping


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          X2!


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            I posted this story over here written by Southerncamo

            Thumbs up Late Season East Texas archery personal best whitetail


            Anyone who has followed Garguy’s(Steve’s) running thread “Pressured Deer are Easy to Pattern” knows he is engaged in a multi-year quest for a giant buck called Fiddy. I have been fortunate enough to follow his quest for the past few seasons and one thing I can say is that his pursuit of an absolute giant he calls Fiddy has if nothing else kept a good number of solid mature deer alive as he opts to pass them. Two deer that frequent the location of this multi-year quest is an 11-year-old ancient wide buck he has calls Longbeam https://imgur.com/a/kBomiVs, as well there is a beautiful 5.5-year-old 8pt he named Passer https://imgur.com/a/7udswn8 as in the deer comes in all the time and it’s become a joke because he continues to pass it. I think Steve’s wife and Dad made a single attempt at them but the desire to not shoot anything at the location knowing his giant mature target deer frequents the property inclined him to limit the hunting.

            All that said after last week’s rain Steve pulls the cards and was covered up with bucks but no pics of the giant he is after, Fiddy. Understanding that flooding tends to remove his primary target deer from the area I ask if I can take a shot at Longbeam and Steve said to go for it. He was kind enough to meet me out at the property to help me hang a lone wolf tree stand and properly brush in the leaf-bare tree with cane to break up my silhouette, we did this in advance of the next round of rain knowing that after the weather hit the wind would be perfect for the setup. I must say that the twin throw corn pens he has set up with cut down hog panels liken to the setups I used to run in South Texas minus any form of feeder apparatus, he opts instead for throw corn every 3 or 4 days to avoid the stress associated with East Texas feeders that tend to deter mature bucks, especially late season. The defined game trails going to each of these feed spots are telling, he had put out 250lbs of corn three days before and when we show up the ground is devoid of corn, solid hoof prints and the general smell of deer are all that are left in the pens. We put out another 200lbs of corn between the two pens in advance of my hunt. Steve walks me back to the tree, he makes some final recommendations for adding the cover to the late season barren tree then looks back to the woods. The edge of the clearing is a dense mix of shrubs and chinaberry trees, I dare to say better than 4 dozen of these trees show the scars of intense and recent horn rubs, on a scale that literally causes me to wonder if something other than deer were making the rubs. As I look at them questioningly Steve smiles and assures me they are from bucks hooking them, and I focus on what he is telling me. Last minute stand adjustments made he explains the direction deer will likely approach and how the amount of groundwater will likely have them make a broader approach that should lead them straight to me. Having come midday to set the stand and refresh the feed Steve instructs me on how to approach the stand and then we go our separate ways.

            Leading up to this hunt it had been a slow year for me, I had spent the pre-season scouting public land and put in several serious hunts in the National Forest but had come up empty handed with the bow. I had in years past killed some incredible deer with a rifle and scores of does and modest bucks with a bow but I had never connected on anything over 120” with a bow much less a mature East Texas buck. Fast forward 24 hours and 6” of rain later and I slip into the stand for an afternoon hunt. Steve shoots me a text says he checked the cards from the day before and both Longbeam and Passer were on camera, he said I was welcome to pursue Passer as well if the opportunity arose. I am settled into the tree by 3 pm, the sky is clear, the moon is still in my opinion too bright, and I mentally prepare for what I believe will be another last light movement of East Texas deer. Not 20 minutes after I am in the stand an enormous boar is on the edge of the feed pen, he roots at some corn, I debate shooting him but I prefer to not risk spoiling hunts by shooting pigs and coyotes when I am otherwise focused on deer. Not long after showing the boar eases over to a power pole and after a little wallowing and rubbing heads on his way. About 30 minutes later another boar appears from my left, swings by the corn pen, then proceeds to spend a solid 10 minutes wallowing in the mud and rubbing on a power pole, I am annoyed but entertained and again opt to not shoot as the boar heads off into the woods. Not 10 minutes later from my front right I catch a glance of a wide buck easing past in the chinaberry trees into dense brush, I immediately move to a standing position and get my bow in my hand. I can vaguely see some movement in the brush but it’s a good 80 yards away and after 10 intense minutes of focused attention nothing materializes so I slowly sit down keeping the bow in hand. No sooner than I sit the buck pops back out but I opt to stay seated. It’s Longbeam the ancient 11-year-old wide buck. He is incredibly deceptive, if you didn’t know who he was you would think you were looking at a skinny late season 2.5 to 3.5-year-old buck, he is pacing back and forth, smelling the air, and hooking trees left and right. Closer observation and the benefit of knowing Steve’s history with the deer the rigidness of his movement betrays his youthful profile. His nose is straight, his back is straight, no potbelly, but he is stiff and his aged front legs form an outward triangular pose as he stands, his eye rings enlarged by time, and ribs outlined by a slack hide, he is an antique especially by East Texas standards and the best part is that it’s almost as if he is oblivious to his age again hooking trees and pacing. About the time I think he is going to work my way he glances back into the woods and I see the glowing orange profile of another deer, one glance and no question it is Passer, he has lost weight from his early season prime but is nonetheless a striking symmetrical buck with a beautiful frame and confident disposition.

            The two bucks converge, exchange some form of mysterious acknowledgment, like two friends who don’t require the formality of word or gesture and immediately begin to visually inspect the feed pens. At this point they are side by side and appear to be put off by what I can only assume was the recent presence of the boars. The wind is perfect, straight into my face, and the sun has forgivingly dropped just below the canopy of the large trees that surround me removing me from the blasting light of the clear sky. The two deer spend every bit of 20 minutes pacing left to right, more concerned is Passer the obvious Alpha of the pair, he faints several head drops as if he intends to feed followed by quick alert head lifts to try to flush out any predators or unwelcome parties, all the while the ancient Longbeam has deferred all responsibility and concern and continues to hook trees like a teenager hitting the pull-up bar and eagerly awaiting Passer's approval to move towards the feed. At this point, I decide to shoot a little video on my phone of the pair. https://youtu.be/ToQCOJgvIsA I decide that they are both awesome deer that I would be proud to take and decide the first deer to give me a shot will the one I take but for the moment they are 80 yards away.

            After what felt like hours Passer blesses the feed pens, he begins his approach, somehow Longbeam got distracted in his wait and was browsing away on rye as Passer walked through a large puddle of groundwater walking on a beeline straight towards me. In an instant Passer has gone from 80 yards to 60, to 50 to 40 to 30, to 20 to 12 yards…he has entered the danger zone where deer get too close and I am forcing myself to not make eye contact with the buck fearing eye contact would betray my position giving him immediate insight into my DNA level desire to kill him. After a brief pause with him at 10 yards glaring through my position he casually turns toward the feed having satisfied his systematic wind flank and begins walking away. As soon as he turns I begin what I call my steps, my series of actions that I rehearse in mental and physical preparation for the most intense moment of bow hunting, the draw. Pointing my arrow at my target I locked my left arm forming a solid wall with my open left hand seated in the handle of my bow, I lock my eyes on my target elevating my left hand then squeezing my shoulder blades, pulling straight against my locked arm, allowing the peep sight to naturally fall in front of my eye. Using a single pin setup my range setting pre-confirmed I make one last glance at my level on my sight providing the appropriate open hand torque with my left hand to move the bubble to the center, trigger finger at a 90-degree angle to the release trigger just forward of it but not touching it, my steps are complete and the deer is oblivious to what has transpired, he is a dead deer walking in my mind but he is not giving me a shot. In the meantime, Longbeam had become aware of Passer’s approval to approach the feed and quickly covered the ground from the trees through the water towards the feed, he is a solid 12 yards further away but is clearly on a mission to get to the corn, this aggressive action triggers Passer to stop and step out with his front left foot in a brief posture of dominance halting Longbeam and providing me a quartered away shot at 22 yards. I exhale, provide back pressure on my release, and touch off the shot. The shot is true, the arrow enters behind his ribs at a steep forward angle penetrating the diaphragm, lungs, and heart-stopping with just the fletching hanging out, the QAD 100 grain Exodus having just emerged forward of the right shoulder. Immediately passer bolts for the woods showing full faculty but he is strained, he is intensely labored, and at 75 yards I lose sight of him briefly only to watch him collapse motionless. I lift my binoculars and I can make out his beautiful rack among the undergrowth, the eye that I can see is open and glazed he is stone dead.

            I hang my bow up and replay the events in my head, I am excited but strangely calm. I am out of my element a bit, I am used to having history with my deer, I am used to watching them for years or aggressively taking them out with a gun because they don’t meet some certain criteria, and I feel a little out of place drawing blood on a friend’s property where I know he has for two years so intensely quested for a giant, I take a deep breath glancing another look at the buck in my binoculars and I block out all that bull****. I allow myself to be excited for having made a good clean shot, I allow myself to enjoy the humility of having a friend who would let me come hunt a deer like that, and I climb out of the stand and put hands on the best archery whitetail of my life. The deer is not a giant but to me, he is a stunning mature East Texas buck with beautiful horns that carry mass like a Midwest deer and a score that will make Pope and Young. I tag the deer, text Steve, and drive toward the Barclay’s in Kennard to celebrate over a home cooked meal with Steve, his wife, Mother, and Father.


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              ...
              Last edited by GarGuy; 12-30-2018, 04:18 PM.

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                What an awesome write up. Congratulations

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                  Originally posted by Hix View Post
                  If a little is good a lot is better... at least when referring to corn piles


                  Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk Pro
                  And so, we now know the secret to patterning pressured deer 👍👍👍👍🤡

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                    Great deer and Great storytelling

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                      Originally posted by rocky View Post
                      And so, we now know the secret to patterning pressured deer [emoji106][emoji106][emoji106][emoji106][emoji1782]
                      How did your season go, any luck?

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                        Originally posted by Johnny View Post
                        How did your season go, any luck?

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                        My season has been good. Thanks for asking.

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                          Originally posted by GarGuy View Post
                          I posted this story over here written by Southerncamo

                          Thumbs up Late Season East Texas archery personal best whitetail


                          Anyone who has followed Garguy’s(Steve’s) running thread “Pressured Deer are Easy to Pattern” knows he is engaged in a multi-year quest for a giant buck called Fiddy. I have been fortunate enough to follow his quest for the past few seasons and one thing I can say is that his pursuit of an absolute giant he calls Fiddy has if nothing else kept a good number of solid mature deer alive as he opts to pass them. Two deer that frequent the location of this multi-year quest is an 11-year-old ancient wide buck he has calls Longbeam https://imgur.com/a/kBomiVs, as well there is a beautiful 5.5-year-old 8pt he named Passer https://imgur.com/a/7udswn8 as in the deer comes in all the time and it’s become a joke because he continues to pass it. I think Steve’s wife and Dad made a single attempt at them but the desire to not shoot anything at the location knowing his giant mature target deer frequents the property inclined him to limit the hunting.

                          All that said after last week’s rain Steve pulls the cards and was covered up with bucks but no pics of the giant he is after, Fiddy. Understanding that flooding tends to remove his primary target deer from the area I ask if I can take a shot at Longbeam and Steve said to go for it. He was kind enough to meet me out at the property to help me hang a lone wolf tree stand and properly brush in the leaf-bare tree with cane to break up my silhouette, we did this in advance of the next round of rain knowing that after the weather hit the wind would be perfect for the setup. I must say that the twin throw corn pens he has set up with cut down hog panels liken to the setups I used to run in South Texas minus any form of feeder apparatus, he opts instead for throw corn every 3 or 4 days to avoid the stress associated with East Texas feeders that tend to deter mature bucks, especially late season. The defined game trails going to each of these feed spots are telling, he had put out 250lbs of corn three days before and when we show up the ground is devoid of corn, solid hoof prints and the general smell of deer are all that are left in the pens. We put out another 200lbs of corn between the two pens in advance of my hunt. Steve walks me back to the tree, he makes some final recommendations for adding the cover to the late season barren tree then looks back to the woods. The edge of the clearing is a dense mix of shrubs and chinaberry trees, I dare to say better than 4 dozen of these trees show the scars of intense and recent horn rubs, on a scale that literally causes me to wonder if something other than deer were making the rubs. As I look at them questioningly Steve smiles and assures me they are from bucks hooking them, and I focus on what he is telling me. Last minute stand adjustments made he explains the direction deer will likely approach and how the amount of groundwater will likely have them make a broader approach that should lead them straight to me. Having come midday to set the stand and refresh the feed Steve instructs me on how to approach the stand and then we go our separate ways.

                          Leading up to this hunt it had been a slow year for me, I had spent the pre-season scouting public land and put in several serious hunts in the National Forest but had come up empty handed with the bow. I had in years past killed some incredible deer with a rifle and scores of does and modest bucks with a bow but I had never connected on anything over 120” with a bow much less a mature East Texas buck. Fast forward 24 hours and 6” of rain later and I slip into the stand for an afternoon hunt. Steve shoots me a text says he checked the cards from the day before and both Longbeam and Passer were on camera, he said I was welcome to pursue Passer as well if the opportunity arose. I am settled into the tree by 3 pm, the sky is clear, the moon is still in my opinion too bright, and I mentally prepare for what I believe will be another last light movement of East Texas deer. Not 20 minutes after I am in the stand an enormous boar is on the edge of the feed pen, he roots at some corn, I debate shooting him but I prefer to not risk spoiling hunts by shooting pigs and coyotes when I am otherwise focused on deer. Not long after showing the boar eases over to a power pole and after a little wallowing and rubbing heads on his way. About 30 minutes later another boar appears from my left, swings by the corn pen, then proceeds to spend a solid 10 minutes wallowing in the mud and rubbing on a power pole, I am annoyed but entertained and again opt to not shoot as the boar heads off into the woods. Not 10 minutes later from my front right I catch a glance of a wide buck easing past in the chinaberry trees into dense brush, I immediately move to a standing position and get my bow in my hand. I can vaguely see some movement in the brush but it’s a good 80 yards away and after 10 intense minutes of focused attention nothing materializes so I slowly sit down keeping the bow in hand. No sooner than I sit the buck pops back out but I opt to stay seated. It’s Longbeam the ancient 11-year-old wide buck. He is incredibly deceptive, if you didn’t know who he was you would think you were looking at a skinny late season 2.5 to 3.5-year-old buck, he is pacing back and forth, smelling the air, and hooking trees left and right. Closer observation and the benefit of knowing Steve’s history with the deer the rigidness of his movement betrays his youthful profile. His nose is straight, his back is straight, no potbelly, but he is stiff and his aged front legs form an outward triangular pose as he stands, his eye rings enlarged by time, and ribs outlined by a slack hide, he is an antique especially by East Texas standards and the best part is that it’s almost as if he is oblivious to his age again hooking trees and pacing. About the time I think he is going to work my way he glances back into the woods and I see the glowing orange profile of another deer, one glance and no question it is Passer, he has lost weight from his early season prime but is nonetheless a striking symmetrical buck with a beautiful frame and confident disposition.

                          The two bucks converge, exchange some form of mysterious acknowledgment, like two friends who don’t require the formality of word or gesture and immediately begin to visually inspect the feed pens. At this point they are side by side and appear to be put off by what I can only assume was the recent presence of the boars. The wind is perfect, straight into my face, and the sun has forgivingly dropped just below the canopy of the large trees that surround me removing me from the blasting light of the clear sky. The two deer spend every bit of 20 minutes pacing left to right, more concerned is Passer the obvious Alpha of the pair, he faints several head drops as if he intends to feed followed by quick alert head lifts to try to flush out any predators or unwelcome parties, all the while the ancient Longbeam has deferred all responsibility and concern and continues to hook trees like a teenager hitting the pull-up bar and eagerly awaiting Passer's approval to move towards the feed. At this point, I decide to shoot a little video on my phone of the pair. https://youtu.be/ToQCOJgvIsA I decide that they are both awesome deer that I would be proud to take and decide the first deer to give me a shot will the one I take but for the moment they are 80 yards away.

                          After what felt like hours Passer blesses the feed pens, he begins his approach, somehow Longbeam got distracted in his wait and was browsing away on rye as Passer walked through a large puddle of groundwater walking on a beeline straight towards me. In an instant Passer has gone from 80 yards to 60, to 50 to 40 to 30, to 20 to 12 yards…he has entered the danger zone where deer get too close and I am forcing myself to not make eye contact with the buck fearing eye contact would betray my position giving him immediate insight into my DNA level desire to kill him. After a brief pause with him at 10 yards glaring through my position he casually turns toward the feed having satisfied his systematic wind flank and begins walking away. As soon as he turns I begin what I call my steps, my series of actions that I rehearse in mental and physical preparation for the most intense moment of bow hunting, the draw. Pointing my arrow at my target I locked my left arm forming a solid wall with my open left hand seated in the handle of my bow, I lock my eyes on my target elevating my left hand then squeezing my shoulder blades, pulling straight against my locked arm, allowing the peep sight to naturally fall in front of my eye. Using a single pin setup my range setting pre-confirmed I make one last glance at my level on my sight providing the appropriate open hand torque with my left hand to move the bubble to the center, trigger finger at a 90-degree angle to the release trigger just forward of it but not touching it, my steps are complete and the deer is oblivious to what has transpired, he is a dead deer walking in my mind but he is not giving me a shot. In the meantime, Longbeam had become aware of Passer’s approval to approach the feed and quickly covered the ground from the trees through the water towards the feed, he is a solid 12 yards further away but is clearly on a mission to get to the corn, this aggressive action triggers Passer to stop and step out with his front left foot in a brief posture of dominance halting Longbeam and providing me a quartered away shot at 22 yards. I exhale, provide back pressure on my release, and touch off the shot. The shot is true, the arrow enters behind his ribs at a steep forward angle penetrating the diaphragm, lungs, and heart-stopping with just the fletching hanging out, the QAD 100 grain Exodus having just emerged forward of the right shoulder. Immediately passer bolts for the woods showing full faculty but he is strained, he is intensely labored, and at 75 yards I lose sight of him briefly only to watch him collapse motionless. I lift my binoculars and I can make out his beautiful rack among the undergrowth, the eye that I can see is open and glazed he is stone dead.

                          I hang my bow up and replay the events in my head, I am excited but strangely calm. I am out of my element a bit, I am used to having history with my deer, I am used to watching them for years or aggressively taking them out with a gun because they don’t meet some certain criteria, and I feel a little out of place drawing blood on a friend’s property where I know he has for two years so intensely quested for a giant, I take a deep breath glancing another look at the buck in my binoculars and I block out all that bull****. I allow myself to be excited for having made a good clean shot, I allow myself to enjoy the humility of having a friend who would let me come hunt a deer like that, and I climb out of the stand and put hands on the best archery whitetail of my life. The deer is not a giant but to me, he is a stunning mature East Texas buck with beautiful horns that carry mass like a Midwest deer and a score that will make Pope and Young. I tag the deer, text Steve, and drive toward the Barclay’s in Kennard to celebrate over a home cooked meal with Steve, his wife, Mother, and Father.


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                          No pics?


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                            Originally posted by gigem95 View Post
                            No pics?


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                            Pics are on the original thread

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                              Originally posted by rocky View Post
                              And so, we now know the secret to patterning pressured deer [emoji106][emoji106][emoji106][emoji106][emoji1782]

                              [emoji38]

                              Don’t forget the vanilla.

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                                Originally posted by TxDispatcher View Post


                                Ah ok. Thanks [emoji1360]


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