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!

The Biggest Buck of My Life 2003

The biggest buck of my life was “only” an eight pointer but it was a thick, wide antler. Also, it's body was big and heavy. I wish I would have weighed it but I guess that it came in at 200 lbs if it weighed an ounce.

It was a deer hunt that almost didn't happen. I had just gotten back from elk hunting in Montana and because of the expense of that trip had decided that I would not spend money on another non-resident license. So, I showed up at deer camp just to hang out with the crew determined to be the camp cook. My uncles-in-law, however, had a different idea. They decided to pool their resources and pay for my tag. I was very happy to receive this kind gift. However, since I had long missed the application date for a doe tag I was buck hunting only. Because of this restriction the opening weekend came and went with no venison on the pole for me.

This left the next, final weekend. For reasons which I don't remember now, my schedule only allowed one half of a day available to try and tag a buck. Also, I had already winterized my cabin so if I did go I'd be relying on the hospitality of brother-in-law and sister-in-law, Charlie and Rachel. I got there Friday night and was shown to my room for the night. As I laid my head on the pillow I realized that Rachel was a fan of Snuggle fabric softener. The aroma was strong and pervasive. I thought, “Man am I going to smell up the woods in the morning!”.

I got up before the sun in the morning and headed to the same tree stand I wrote about in the story of 'The Bedded Down Buck'. I sat for a couple of hours there but I didn't like the unusual east wind that was happening that day which was blowing my Snuggle scent towards the best bedding area. That, plus my need to make something happen because of my limited schedule convinced me to try a walk about.

I decided to sneak over towards the southeast end of the Blueberry Swamp. In the past I had been able to get up to the edge of the area and scare up a deer bedded there. I was hoping that if that happened again to be able to get a quick shot off. My plan actually worked well in that there was a deer there except for the part about me getting a shot off. I watched the deer's white flag run straight up the other side of the crevice and then head to the left.

Coincidentally, I had just read an article by Gary Clancy about what a hunter should do in such a circumstance. He said you should determine which direction the deer turns (to the right or left) and then head that direction yourself and try to catch him circling around on you. So, I determined to give this method a try.

I walked about 100 yards to the left and then slowly hunted my way towards the direction I saw the deer run. When I got to the far end of Charlie's property I was sneaking around and peaked around the left side of a pine tree over towards the direction of the Blueberry Swamp. Suddenly I saw a deer moving quickly down the far hill into the valley below between us. I remember saying to myself: “there's a deer, it's moving towards me and it's a big buck!”

I got my gun up and moved the cross hairs unto his body as he passed left to right in the valley below me, probably 80 yards out. At the shot the deer suddenly spun to the right and started running up the same hill I was on but I lost sight of him. I ran to the right around the pine tree to try and get another shot off and was almost run over by the buck! He and I were extremely startled and I shot again as he slammed on the brakes and did a 180. That shot was so rushed, however, that I doubt if I even got my rifle up to my shoulder. I quickly ran the lever of my Savage Model 99 another time and shot a third time as he disappeared over the far side into the woods.

Wow, I could not believe all that had just occurred in the last minute and a half! I checked my watch, determined not to push the deer until at least 20 minutes had passed just in case one of those shots had connected. I did, however, walk down to where the deer stood when I took my first shot. I was able to find his track in the nice fresh snow and also found some fur and blood. I did get a bullet into that deer!

I waited there the allotted 20 minutes, then started following the blood trail, and followed and followed. I could tell he was hit well, a good amount of blood and foot prints that were obviously stressed. I kept expecting to find him crumpled up at any time but I tracked that deer for nearly ½ mile until his trail went into the Pine Plantation on the opposite end of Charlie's land. Fortunately, I only walked a few steps into the Pines when I finally found him lying dead in the snow. What a great sight!

Normally, a shot deer will bed down somewhere within 100 yards and watch his trail, then die in his bed. But I think that when we had our near collision, he felt motivated to get as much space as possible between him and me. When I found him it was obvious that he had never bedded down, but just fell over dead in his own tracks. When I field dressed this big buck I was very surprised that while none of my other shots had connected, my first trigger pull was a perfect shot and had passed clean through his chest cavity. I could not believe that he was able to run full speed up one hill, turn and run back down and up another, then walk half a mile before expiring. What a strong, bull of a deer, … the biggest buck of my life!

The West of the Blueberry Swamp Buck 2005

The opening weekend of the Wisconsin 2005 deer season was very snowy. This is often a good thing but the fog and snow on opening morning was so heavy that most of the day we could hardly see a thing. I was sitting in a stand I had built the previous year west of the Blueberry Swamp, up the hill in the NW corner of Charlie's land. Uncle Charlie used to poke fun at me about that stand because I built it between two dead poplar trees. I didn't notice they were dead at the time. He said that only a city boy would build in dead trees. I suppose he was right. I did heed his advice though, and took it down the next year in favor of a new stand closer to the swamp. As he predicted, the trees fell over on their own accord shortly afterwards.

But anyhow, the 2005 season saw me deerless through the opening weekend. I then decided to stay another day, Monday, and see if my fortune would change. I remember that Skip and I had gone to a pizza joint, Coops, in Hayward for supper on Sunday night.

Monday morning I got up early to make breakfast as is my custom. Then Skip and I jumped in my truck and drove down to the SW corner of Charlie's property and parked in what the Warners call the Allen place. There is the foundation remains of an old cabin there, apparently Mr. Allen's cabin.

We then walked along the fence line in the dark. I dropped Skip off at the old tree stand on the west fence line that is south west of the Blueberry Swamp. I then continued on to my new stand in the dead popals, about another 100 yards through the woods. Climbed up and settled in to wait for the sun to come up.

I was primarily watching to the west that day because that was the direction of the wind. The theory is that no deer will come up behind you when you are facing the wind because they will smell and avoid you before you would ever see them. That's the theory, but that's not what happened that day.

I had set there for a couple two or three hours when I heard a “snap” behind me. I looked back there and saw nothing and was about to turn back to my windward gaze but thought to myself; “Hmm, things don't just snap in the woods for no reason” (duh). So I keep looking back and down there and soon I noticed movement from behind some brush. There was a deer!

As he slowly moved through the brush I got my body turned around on my swivel seat, raised my gun and noticed the antlers, a nice rack. “Oh boy, oh boy!” He stepped into a slight shooting lane as I centered the cross hairs behind his front leg. “Boom” and he went down. I levered another shell into the magazine as I watched him laying there, about 40 yards away. Then I noticed he was starting to struggle to get up so I targeted his back and shot him again through the spine. No more movement after that.

I watched him for a little while before climbing down just to make sure he was down for the count. Then climbed down, walked over and started counting the points. Nine! About then Skip came over because he had heard the racket. He was sure that this was the same deer he had seen on opening day but didn't have an opportunity to shoot at. We field dressed him, then went back to borrow one of Charlie's tractors for the drag out. A nice deer, a nice end to a weekend of Wisconsin hunting.

The After My Nap Buck 2006

You're right, that's not a picture of me on the right. I don't seem to have a picture of me with this buck so I posted a picture of some ancient deer hunting Warner relative. Deer hunting in this area has been a tradition for many generations and I am blessed to be a continuing part of it. (edit): I've found out that this is a picture of my wife's grandfather; Merritt Warner. The picture was probably taken in the 1930's.

The story behind this buck is that I had already shot a small doe on opening morning. After lunch I decided to try for another at a spot to the west of the railroad tracks on the Beverly Lake state land. This is a very picturesque area overlooking Swift Creek that I always enjoy hanging out in. I found a nice comfortable tree to lean against, ate some candy bars and fell asleep.

I slept for maybe half an hour, woke up and had a look about. I was still kind of groggy when I noticed movement down across the creek. It was a buck moving through the brush and then he crossed the creek to my side and started up the side of the hill. I raised up my gun and when he got to the top with me I blasted him at about 30 yards.

He was gone from sight at the shot but I was pretty sure he would not have gone far, if at all. But, just to be sure, I checked my watch and sat at my comfortable tree for another 20 minutes. When the time was up I walked over to where I last saw the deer. There he lay, very much dead. It was a smaller rack but still counted 8 points. As I was field dressing him I noticed why this deer was on the move. Traveling across and along the creek, walked a hunter whom undoubtedly my buck was running from. Thanks for the help, bud!