I’m sharing the original post I made last year about this deer. I had watched him for 3 full seasons before harvesting him in our 4th season on this lease. I had this deer pegged as a 5.5-6.5 year old and decided that he was my target buck.
Going into November, game camera pictures had grown inconsistent and less frequent as to what we were seeing in September and October. I knew there was a slim chance of seeing him as he had only ever been seen twice by anybody on our lease. Each year he disappeared by November and wouldn’t reappear until late January. I credit that to the surrounding winter wheat fields that I’m assuming he would frequent.
This deer consistently was shown posturing up to other bucks on camera, so my plan was to rattle if the feeder action was poor and it was just that. Opening morning of rifle season was spent at the stand that this deer had been spotted on camera, however, not nearly enough for my liking.
After a very slow morning, I broke out the horns and immediately rattled in an impressive ten point that came bounding in within twenty yards. He was only a 3.5 year old but possibly another good one in the making. Throughout the morning I saw does and other young bucks work the surrounding area without much interest in the feeder.
The steamy afternoon sit in the tower blind wasn’t much different. My optimism was fading and I was fearing that my window to take this buck had already past me by just like the years past.
The next morning tried to remain optimistic. It was so foggy I couldn’t even see the feeder pen eighty five yards away. As the sun rose and the fog slowly burned away, I elected to rattle again, but this time nothing showed.
I waited about another forty-five minutes. I opened the back of the blind, grunted, and slammed the horns together literally as hard as a good for thirty to forty-five seconds. I closed the door and watched in silence.
My phone buzzed and I looked only to see my brother, dad, and grandpa all texting each other about the slow action. When I looked up, there he was, standing on the opposite side of the feeder pen, staring right toward me with his ears back.
At first I thought he was staring at me, but as I raised my Weatherby and settled the crosshairs, I realized he was looking for the bucks he heard fighting. I had no shot through the feeder pen and the waiting game began.
It was the longest few minutes of my life as he stood behind the pen just scanning his surroundings. Slowly, he worked his way out of the brush and around the pen but at an extreme quartering angle.
The big eight was fixing to skirt me. I angled myself as far as I could before he crossed the road. I settle the crosshairs and squeezed the trigger. Off went the shot and I knew it was a hit. The deer hobbled into the brush as I reloaded.
I felt confident about the shot being a hit, but something felt off. After two hours of searching, we didn’t find a drop of blood or a single piece of hair. To say my heart was sank would be an understatement. I blew my shot.
One week later, I headed back to the lease with my grandpa in tow. After the Saturday morning hunt we drove the long way down the road to see if the axis were hanging out around the water trough we could see from the road. As we worked our way down the road and past our lease, we came to another creek bed when my grandpa pointed at a deer floating.
Whether it was him or not I wanted to alert the landowner so it did not rot and taint his cows water supply. Thanks to the game warden in the area, I was in contact with the landowner within the hour. He granted my request to remove the deer and check to see if it was mine. As I walked up to scene, I saw the unmistakable kicker on his G2.
Somehow, this deer had just recently died. That fact upset me quite a bit and as a responsible hunter, I felt ashamed even though I know these things happen.
I felt lucky to salvage the cape on this deer and I wanted to pay my respects. According to the taxidermist, he believes he was in the water less than 24 hours otherwise his fur probably would have been pulling out.
After that long story, here he sits. Not the worlds largest, but a heck of a buck.
Gross - 131 3/8
Net - 128 4/8
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