Sunday, December 27, 2015

The First Thing in the Morning Buck 2015

Deer season, 2015.  In camp this year are myself, David, Don and new guys Bill with his son, Gabe, age 16.  I am very happy to have a new young hunter here.  Passing it on to new generations is very important to me.

It's also interesting that all these guys at camp this year are motorcycling buddies of mine.  David and Don are from my days of riding a Honda SilverWing and meeting guys via an internet forum of SilverWing riders.  Bill is a Fellow Founding Father of the Fossil Apostles Motorcycle Gang whose adventures can be read about at www.fossilapostles.com.

Don, aka "Blindstich"
David, aka, "Dave from Wisc"













Anyhow, as usual, I got up at 4:30 to make breakfast and then headed out to my favorite stand east of the Blueberry Swamp.  Dave and Don were over across the road near the gravel pit.  I sent Bill and Gabe down to near the railroad tracks on the southwest corner of Charlie's (my favorite bro-in-law) property.  We had the land pretty well surrounded. There were no doe tags again this year, everyone was buck hunting only.

It was a cool morning but not really cold, mid teens above zero as I recall.  Not much wind out of the northwest.  A slight covering of old snow to help in any needed tracking.  I got to the stand at about 6:30 with sunrise scheduled @ 7:30, legal shooting 30 minutes earlier at 7:00.  I climbed up and settled in for a long wait if needed.  Turned out, a long wait was not needed.

I was primarily watching to the west and north down the hill to the Blueberry Swamp.  That was the direction the wind was from plus that is the direction of my shooting lanes and where the deer are most often seen.  But I never restrict my hunting to one direction and am always slowly turning and scanning north, south and even way around me to the east. Of course east should not be the direction where deer would be because the prevailing breeze would send my human scent that way and warn any deer of my presence.   But I've been fooled by deer not following the rules and coming in from the wrong side many times before so I try and keep alert in all directions.

At about 7:30, right at sunrise, I was starting to turn my gaze around to the south when I saw some movement in my peripheral vision further left of me.  I looked directly in that direction and saw a deer moving from the south to the north about 60 yards east of me... and I saw antlers.... a buck!  I spun totally around on my swivel seat and got my gun up while I keep my eyes on him.  He was walking quickly but not running.  He was obviously in a hurry to get somewhere so I had to act quickly or miss out.

As mentioned, east from this stand is not my primary direction of hunting.  I have some minor shooting lanes cut but mostly that direction is overgrown with brush and trees.  I found a narrow spot between a couple of trees to train my cross hairs and suddenly I saw brown but then it was gone.  I remember thinking;  "I should have pulled the trigger right then!".  But I moved the scope over some more and had his body in my cross hairs.  I could tell there was some brush that might interfere but I figured it was now or never so I squeezed a shot off.

At the shot the buck started running and jumped a fence but then he stopped and stood there broadside looking at me.  Obviously my shot had totally missed and he was wondering what the heck all the noise was about.  I had already ejected the spent shell and my Ruger American bolt action in .308 was ready for the follow up shot.  I quickly found his body in the scope, moved the cross hairs to just behind his shoulder and pulled the trigger again.  This time the aim was true and the deer went right over.  I kept my scope on him a bit in case he got up again and needed more persuasion but it was very apparent he wasn't going anywhere.

I texted the other guys that my hunt was over for the weekend and climbed down from my tree.  Normally, if I can't see a deer I shot, I always wait 20 minutes before starting tracking to give it time to die but, as mentioned, I could see him and he was down for good.  I walked over to the buck, and as is my custom, I verbally thanked the Lord for His provision.  It was about an 80 yard walk and I soon realized he was a big bodied deer with a nice wide rack.

After getting closer I counted 8 points.  It was a very similar deer as last years buck "The Bruiser".   I think Bruiser was a shorter but huskier deer, kind of like a football player.  While "First Thing" was a longer deer more like a basketball player.  Comparing later I found that First Thing's antlers were wider but Bruiser's were taller and thicker.   Obviously very similar genetics and both were shot within a couple hundred yards of each other.







I drug the him to a clearing, drove back to the huntin' shack and asked my favorite (only) brother-in-law to help me pick him up with his tractor which he was willing to do:

Dave and Don graciously offered to butcher the deer for me this year which we did.  This was something new for me in that I have always just brought them into a local butcher.  But doing this meant I was able to share meat with the guys right away:





Thus ends another year at deer camp.  Every year is an adventure!






Monday, January 12, 2015

The Bruiser 2014

Opening day, gun season, November 22, 2014.  The week before opener, the weather had been very cold, below zero.  But the good news is that a "warm" front had come in and it was going to be up around 20 degrees.  Plus there had been some nice snow this month so there was a good 9" of snow on the ground.

 This year at camp we had four of us: David, Don (the new guy), Skip and myself.  There were no antlerless permits this year in Northern Wisconsin so we were hunting for bucks only.  This is very unusual for us in that most years we can literally shoot as many does as we see and are willing to buy tags for.  But because of two harsh winters and political pressure, all that opportunity was taken away from us this year.  We'd just have to wait for something with horns or go home sad.  I'm very glad to say that I did not go home sad.

I got up about 4:30, made breakfast for the crew, got dressed and headed out for my favorite Blueberry Swamp stand arriving at about 6:30.  Legal hunting was about 7:00.  I climbed up, settled in and began the wait.  The wind was light out of the west, perfect for this stand on the east side of the swamp.  I always say, "if you spend enough time in that stand you will see a deer".   Fortunately, this was true this year as well.

At about 9:30 I noticed movement through the trees, way out to the east.  Two deer, one bigger than the other moving from the north to the south.  I got my Ruger American bolt action .308 up but never saw them again through the scope.  Since there were two of them and one was bigger it probably was a doe with her fawn. They must have turned and headed away to the east since I never saw them again.

Then the wait continued in earnest.  I sat, and sat and sat some more.  About 11:00 I was getting hungry so was waiting for a train to come through so I could open up my noisy swivel bucket seat where I stowed  my thermos of chicken noodle soup and ham with cheese sandwich.  The stand is a few hundred yards from a very busy train track.  I always wait for the train to come by before opening up the bucket so the noise of the train will cover the "CRACK" of the bucket lid opening and closing.  The trains had come by about hourly today so I didn't think I'd have to wait long for lunch.  Of course there was no train until about 12:30.  But the soup and sandwich really fit the bill and I was renewed for an afternoon of more sitting and waiting.

Three more hours now passed of me just sitting and constantly scanning the woods around me, trying to keep my movement to a minimum.  Finally at about 3:30 I saw some movement to the south and west of me.  Up the hill, south of the swamp there was a deer moving through the trees! The trees were too thick to tell buck or doe yet but I felt confidant I'd get a better look at it soon.  When it's head was behind some trees I got my gun up and actually had the cross hairs on it's chest through a small clearing at one point but I still hadn't seen any antlers yet so I dare not pull the trigger.

After a short wait that felt like forever, the deer slowly moved down the hill towards the swamp.  I was watching through my scope waiting for it to step into the open where I'd be able to identify gender and maybe get a shot if it was a buck.  Well the deer stopped just before stepping into the open and my heart skipped a beat when I he put his head past the last tree and I saw antlers.  It's a buck and a nice one!

I had no shot onto his body because of the trees but I watched as he stuck his nose up into air and sniffed the wind for any human smell.  I was very glad for the west wind blowing my stink away from him and was mentally urging him on: "come on, come on, take a step forward!"  Finally after he felt it was safe he took a step forward and immediately I had the cross hairs on his chest and squeezed off a shot.  He went right down into the snow and never got up again.  After nine hours of patiently waiting, I had my deer down!
 I could see him from the stand and could tell I had no reason to wait the normal 20 minutes for him to die.  He was about 80 yards out and very much dead.  I found out later that I must have pulled my gun to the right because the shot went through his neck and killed him instantly.  I sent a text message to Don to let him know that the shot he heard was me and my hunt was over.  I then climbed down and started the walk that every deer hunter dreams of: walking up on a nice big buck that you just harvested.  I was saying "Thank you Lord, thank you Lord, thank you Lord" as I walked up to him.  I always am very grateful to God for His provision and that He let's us take and eat his creation.  This provision of food is but a shadow of His greatest provision of all of sending His Son as our Savior.  God is good, all the time!







He was a big bodied eight pointer. I field dressed him and then realized there was no way I was going to drag this deer out of the woods on my own.  Every direction from where he was laying was up hill and this was around a two hundred pound deer.  I went back to the hunting shack to get some help, hopefully help on a tractor.  A neighbor, Nate, happened to come by to see how we were doing as I walked up to the shack .  I said; "I have a big buck down at the Blueberry Swamp, and everyone else is still hunting and Charlie is out of town.  Can you help?"  "Sure, be glad to", he said.  His little brother was with him so the three of us climbed on Charlie's tractor and we drove on over.  There was no way we were going to get the tractor through the heavy trees to the swamp so we got as close as we could up on the hill and started the walk down.  When we walked up to the deer, now in the dark, Nate took one look, turned with a big grin on his face, stuck out his hand to shake mine and said, "that's a bruiser of a deer, Wayne!".  I had to admit that he was and that's how this deer got his name; "The Bruiser".  It was quite a workout for the three of us to pull him up the hill to the tractor but we did and got him home.












Weeks later when I got the antlers back to Minneapolis and boiled the hide off the skull I was able to compare the rack with the others on the wall.  I now realize that "The Bruiser" was the second biggest deer I've ever taken.  Not as big as "The Biggest Buck of My Life" of  2003 but bigger in mass than the nine point "West of the Blueberry Swamp Buck" of 2005.  A very good year of deer hunting, I think.

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Stories to Remember




I was recently sitting in my basement room and came to a startling realization. In this room (which my wife calls my “man cave”) I have many items hanging on the walls and setting on shelves. Included are prints, photos, guns, guitars and other items of interest and nostalgia. There is one area on one wall where I have antlers hanging of the bigger bucks I have shot in my last 20 years of deer hunting in Wisconsin. It was while reminiscing about these antlers that I came to a surprising awareness.

Every antler hanging on the wall triggers a story in my brain: “That one was the one I took over across the railroad tracks, that one was the one by the Blueberry Swamp”, etc. To my great alarm there was one antler, however, of which I couldn't remember the story! I had to think for a few minutes before I remembered that the one on the top, left was the bedded down deer shot in the plateau near the pines.

This episode brought me to the renewed understanding that time clouds the memory even as age slows down the synapses between the brain cells. I then and there decided that I had better write these hunting stories down if I expected to save them.

One of the things that I appreciate the most about hunting are the stories which hunting creates after the fact. I love to hear hunting stories and I love to tell hunting stories! The following is my attempt to save these stories for myself and for anyone else who might give a hoot. If you are one of those, enjoy.

Wayne

(And, by the way, you may click on any picture to enlarge it.)

The Outhouse Deer. 2013



The Outhouse Deer. 2013.

This story, unlike all my other buck stories, takes place in Minnesota rather than Wisconsin. My friend, Tim, had acquired his father's country property near Isanti, MN the past summer and had invited me to help him get back into deer hunting. He hadn't deer hunted for a couple of decades and was hoping I'd at least give him some pointers, maybe even hunt with him. I had spent enough time on this property to know that there were many, many deer and our chances of going home with venison was very, very good. I, of course, said yes immediately.

So, with the invite and the excited acceptance we were now in planning mode. I checked the DNR regs and found out that “Tim's Country Estate” (TCE) was in the slug zone of MN. This would be something new for me, although I've deer hunted for over 20 years I had never been required to restrict my firearm to a slug gun. Though I have many shotguns in my gun cabinet, never once had I fired a slug through any of them. With no rifled barrel and with no sights to adjust this was going to be interesting.  A bit like throwing rocks, I think.  The first thing would be to choose our weapons, buy some ammo and see where they might end up on a target. We scheduled a sight-in day and got started. I chose an old bolt action 16 ga while Tim was sure he wanted to try an old side-by-side double barrel handed down to him from his Grandfather. I was sure you couldn't deer hunt with such a gun but he was determined to try it. I also provided our third hunter, Skip, with a semi-auto 12 ga.. The long and short of the story is that my gun was consistently 8” low at 25 yards, Skip's was 2” low and Tim's was right on the money. Who woulda figured!

The other part of our preparation to hunt TCE was to determine where we would hide to try and way lay some deer. I had noticed a major trail down by the river, just east of the house. We brushed in an area between some trees near there where Skip would put his chair. Another site was set up on the ground at the opposite, west end of the property,. Tim would sit there. But the piece de resistance would be the stand Tim built on top of the outhouse. This outhouse was no ordinary rickety plywood structure but is the embodiment of the proverbial brick (blank) house. Made of concrete block and roof trusses this turned into a very sturdy deer stand of treated wood and a railing. Tim had also sheathed it with rough-sawn slabs and tied a ladder to it for access. We were set, everyone had a place to hunt and everybody had a gun, albeit not very accurate ones.

Opening morning came two weeks later and we were ready to go. After breakfast we each found our way to our respective stands. Skip and I easily since they were so close to the house. Tim had a bit more difficulty in the dark since he was actually out in the woods and not in the yard. But we each finally settled in and waited for legal hunting hour.

I was very comfortable up on the roof of the outhouse. The weather was mild and the little south wind was blocked by the half walls of the stand. A half hour after opening bell, right at sunrise, I saw movement to the south. I could see a buck heading into some brush there and would probably come out right in front of me. I got my shotgun up and was ready for him when he stepped into the shooting lane, about 30 yards out. I remembered my site-in lesson and aimed at the top of his back, 8” high. The shot him him hard right through his chest. He turned and slowly started moving away from me. I knew he wouldn't go far but since he gave me another clear shot I took it. This time aiming at the top of his head and the slug hit him right in the spine which put him down and out. It was a young 8 point basket rack. Nice deer, thank the Lord.

That afternoon we all went back into the city for a wedding of a daughter of a previous pastor of ours. We had a good evening of reminiscing with old friends. The next morning Tim shot a nice doe and Skip got the big brother of my buck from the outhouse stand. A massive bodied 8 pointer, his first buck and a nice one. Since we all had venison we decided to clean up and go to a local church. That afternoon I sat in the far south west corner of TCE to try and harvest another doe but none showed up where I sat. Tim saw one while doing yard work but, of course, had no gun in hand.

All in all, we had a great weekend. Good friends, good hunting, venison in the freezer. Thanks for the invite, Tim!


The Last Minute Buck. 2011



On this particular opening weekend we weren't seeing very many deer. Skip had shot a young doe but the rest of us (David, Mike and I ) not so much. Now it was Sunday afternoon, I had spent all day in the Blueberry Swamp Stand (east side) and I was scheduled to go back to work the next day. It kept going through my mind what my work schedule was for the coming week and whether I should postpone work obligations and stay another day at deer camp or just come back the weekend after Thanksgiving and try again. The decisions were not easy to come by but fortunately I didn't have to make the choice:

About ½ hour before sunset I saw a deer moving down by the swamp, about 80 yards down the hill. I noticed antlers and that they weren't large or numerous. However, seeing that we had so little venison this weekend I wasn't going to be particularly picky. I confess, I was in the “if it's brown it's down” mode. If I had seen this same buck early on Saturday morning I probably would have passed on him but on Sunday end-of-day, I was not hesitating.

The buck was walking at a moderate rate from right to left, north to south and I started shooting. The first shot was through some brush and just hurried the buck a bit. The second shot was the same as was the third. My fourth shot was taken when the deer was finally in a clear shooting lane (which I probably should have waited for in the first place) and I finally connected. I could tell I hit him well as he disappeared from sight. I figured he went down and after my self imposed wait of 20 minutes I climbed down to investigate.


He was lying about 20 feet from where I hit him and very much dead. Only one hole in him, by the way. A young six pointer with one broken off point (I wonder how that happened?!). Not a trophy but a provision from God for which I was very grateful.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Your First Buck is Always a Trophy!





This was my first buck. Unfortunately, I'm not sure anymore what year it was. I'm guessing the late 1990's. Probably 1998. I do, however, remember the story:
(edit: found an old journal, it was 1992! much earlier than I suspected)

I was up to the Wisconsin House for opening weekend. This was back in the days of a crowded deer camp when Darlene's Uncles Doug and Dave were there as well as her cousin Dale and other friends of mine; Scott, Dave and Don.

It was a Sunday afternoon and I was heading into the area we call “The Mile Square”. The area is a large expanse of woods which we had been told to never go into without a compass. Because of the lack of landmarks it is very easy to get turned around in The Mile Square. I had been walking along the gravel road which delineates the line between the north end of The Mile Square and the south end of the Beverly Lake state land. I noticed what seemed to me to be some fairly fresh deer sign which had crossed the road into The Mile Square. What made the track even more desirable was that there were blood drops amongst the foot prints. There had been a lot of shooting earlier that day around Beverly Lake that day and I reasoned that some hunter had hit one and had not followed up his shot. I double checked to make sure I had my compass and followed the blood trail in.

I was slowly stalking into the woods and had traveled in less than 100 yards when I came to a partial clearing and some fallen logs. There were a lot of track in the snow around the area, I decided to sit on the log and observe for a while. I hadn't sat there long until I noticed movement. I couldn't believe my eyes, but there was a deer trying to sneak around behind me. I could actually see his raised tail moving along behind another fallen log! I raised my gun up and when he stepped into an opening I put my scope on him and pulled the trigger. The deer humped up and ran off. At this time in my excitement I didn't know if it was a buck or a doe. I had not noticed any antlers.

Being a novice deer hunter I then made some mistakes. I immediately started trying to find that deer. I went to where I thought I last saw him and started following some deer track. As I said, there were a lot of track in the area. I didn't have any tracking tape so I hung my hat in a branch so I could find my way back. I followed a blood trail which probably was the trail of the first deer I was following and not the one I shot at. I followed that trail quite a long way and then it was starting to get dark. I then convinced myself that I must have missed and back trailed back to my hat and then out to the road and back to my house.

When I got back, I told Uncle Dave what had happened, that I shot at a deer, that I never saw any antlers, it must have been a doe, I probably missed. He said to me, “What did the deer do when you pulled the trigger”. I said, “What do you mean?” “Did she hump up, was her tail up or down when it ran off?” “It humped up and ran off, I think her tail was down”. “Wayne, if she humped up, you gut shot her. You hit that deer and it is probably dying in the woods now”.

I now had a dilemma, Scott and I were due to go back to work in the morning and we had traveled together. I wanted to get that deer but I needed to head back to Minnesota. I told the Uncles the best I could about where I had been hunting and they said they'd look for it in the morning, Scott and I packed up and hit the road. I thought about that deer the whole three hour drive back to Scott's house. I dropped Scott off at about 9:00 PM and knew I was heading back to find my deer. I drove all the way back and was in my bed by midnight.

In the morning, we decided that Dave's son, Dale would help me find my deer. We drove down to the area and I followed my tracks in (thank the Lord for snow!). We found where I sat down on the log and I explained to Dale where I was sitting and where I thought the deer was and which way it ran off. Dale looked around in the snow for a minute and started wondering off into the woods in the wrong direction. I said “Dale I think you are going the wrong way”. “Just a minute” he said. I half heartily followed him and then heard him shout: “Wayne, I found your deer.... and it's a buck!”

The buck had laid down after only about 40 yards and died right there. It may have been a good thing I had followed the wrong trail the day before because, being gut shot, if I had followed the right trail I probably would have chased him from his bed and never recovered him. I now know that a gut shot deer needs hours to lay down and die. My ineptness provided those hours.

It was just a fork horn, but a big bodied deer for being so young. And, it was my first buck, a trophy to me!

The Bedded Down Buck 2002





This was the buck that I almost couldn't remember. But, it came back to me. I had built a tree stand a couple of years before in the “plateau” area west of the Pine Plantation and east of the Blueberry Swamp. The first year in that stand I shot a small fork horn there on opening morning. And I think a doe another year.

That stand finally got too old and I took it down last summer. A good thing too, I think. It gave out beneath me as I was unscrewing the deck boards because the lags into the trees had rusted totally through. I found out that the only thing holding it together were the deck boards. Thank the Lord, I was holding unto a screw-in step as it gave way and I was left hanging there by one hand! I was able to then easily climb down. If I hadn't been holding that step there is no doubt I would have went down with the contraption. Who knows what the result of that would have been. Moral of the story: be careful in those tree stands!

Anyhow, back to 2002, I think it was opening day, but am not totally sure it may have been Sunday. I was sitting there a few hours and suddenly saw movement to the north of me. There, about 40-60 yards out were some deer moving west to east, and I could tell that at least one of them was a buck.

I started to get my gun up to watch for an opening when the closest deer, the buck, suddenly laid down into a slight indention in the ground. I was surprised, to say the least. I could still see his head clearly as he moved it back and forth scanning the woods. I also could see the top half of his back from his neck to his tail as he laid there, legs folded under him.

What good fortune, I had plenty of time to plan and take my shot. I was able to slowly raise my gun, rest my left elbow on my knee and decide what my course of action would be. At first I thought about trying to shoot him in his head but decided that I could take him with a spine shot and not have to worry about a moving target. I centered the cross hairs on his back just behind his neck and pulled the trigger. At the shot his head fell over and he never moved again.

The broken spine killed him instantly. I was elated over the fast kill and the nice buck!