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« on: November 08, 2023, 09:56:15 AM »
I really enjoy reading y’alls hunting stories on this forum so I thought I would share this deer hunting story. I started hunting whitetail deer in 1994 at the age of 14. This deer season (2023) marks my 29th deer hunting season. If memory serves me correctly, I haven't missed hunting at least once during a deer season in that time. Nearly all of my deer hunts have been in the state of Texas; the only exception being a hunt on a friends land in Arkansas back in the late 1990s. I have hunted all over the state. We started off just south of I-10 near Ozona. I shot my first buck there on opening morning. It was a small 8-point but I was proud. The next season we were in Val Verde County, 50 miles from Mexico. The following couple of seasons we were between San Angelo and Eldorado. That was a neat place. It wasn't big but there were deer all over. Then we moved to a lease near Cross Plains for a hot minute.
After that and during my college years, I worked for hunts... filling feeders, fixing pens, filling holes... mostly manual labor. Most of those exchanges took place on a 6,000 acre ranch near Throckmorton. There were some really nice bucks on that place as I recall. The deer were just bigger there than all my other hunting spots up to that point (bigger bodies, bigger antlers, just plain bigger). I took a couple of deer off that place before we lost access to it in 2003. During my last couple of years in college, I hunted with a buddy on his brothers land near Sulpher Springs out east. There weren’t very many deer around and we never shot anything there but at least we were hunting.
After I graduated college, I got offered a spot on a family lease in Seymour. This was an area I was familiar with because it was 30 mins or so north of Throckmorton, and my family had brought me out there a couple of times prior to work in exchange for a dove hunt or two. November of 2006 was my first official deer season there. I’ve been fortunate enough to still be on that lease with the same family members today.
In all my years hunting the aforementioned places, I’ve never really taken a “great” buck. I’ve taken some small, some average, and a few nice bucks, but nothing in that amazing category. I’ve seen others on our lease get some great ones occasionally, which has always kept me optimistic. I’m not really the kind of guy who wants to go pay $10-$20k for a high-fenced, custom bred trophy. I have nothing against folks who do that; it’s just not my thing.
This past Saturday, which was opening morning for rifle season here in Texas, all the years of hunting and looking for a real trophy paid off. I was up early around 4:30 AM and started cooking breakfast for our gang. After we were fed and watered, I started to get ready to head out to my spot. We have 7 different feeders on our place with corresponding blinds and/or tripods. Each spot has an earned nickname and number (1-7). We draw those numbers out of a hat the night before, which we had done. I drew #4, which is a 60-70 yard (close) shot between the tripod and feeder. It’s on top of a small mesa and backs up to a few hundred acre wheat field, which is planted with winter wheat for cattle grazing. This particular spot is one of the highest elevations on the entire property. I brought 2 rifles with me, which I normally do when deer hunting just as a safety valve (ie: drop a rifle and bump the scope, or forget to grab the right ammo, etc.). The first rifle brought was my Mark V 7mm Weatherby Mag. The other rifle was my 1903 Springfield custom rifle chambered in 35 Whelen. I decided to take the Whelen with me to the #4 stand since I didn’t need the range of the 7mm at this spot.
I got up in the stand a little before 7 AM. Keep in mind, daylight savings would hit early the next morning so at 7 on Saturday it was still dark. Shortly after I got settled, I heard the feeder go off. I thought to myself, “that’s too early; will need to fix that after the hunt”. 10 minutes later, 3 doe showed up. By this time I can see a little with my binoculars but it’s still too dark to shoot. I wasn’t looking for a doe anyways. Another 10 minutes pass and the doe are still in and around the feeder. I see another deer walking towards the feeder. I can tell this deer is bigger and I catch a glimpse of antlers so I know its a buck. I’m glassing the buck with my binoculars but it’s still pretty dark and I can’t tell much other than he appears to be pretty nice. A few more minutes pass. At this point, he’s jumped in the feeder pen. It’s starting to get light enough to see better, but still not great. I’m still glassing him when I catch him lift up his head. That’s when I realized this was a special buck. He was tall and wide and appeared to have decent mass. The adrenaline started kicking-in and my heart rate shot up. I grabbed my rifle, which I had already chambered a round and put on the safety after I got safely in the stand. I put the cross-hairs on him and quickly realized there was no way I could take the shot. I was so amped-up with buck fever and it was still a touch to dark.
It was about 7:25 at this point. I remembered my cousin-in-law telling me before we headed out that morning that sunrise (according to his phone app) was at 7:58. Legal shooting hours in Texas are from 30 minutes before sunrise to 30 minutes after sunset. That meant, legally, I needed to wait another 3 minutes, which was fine because I needed to settle down anyways. I kept thinking to myself, man I hope he doesn’t jump out and leave.
I put my rifle down and continued to glass him for another few minutes. It was now 7:30 and I had calmed myself down enough, got to the legal shooting window, and had slightly better daylight to work with, though it was still dark-ish. I picked up my rifle again and acquired him in my scope. Then he walked right behind the feeder, but only for 30 seconds to a minute. He popped right out on the other side but was kinda quartering away from me so I waited. I took the safety off and put my finger on the trigger. A few seconds later he gave me a perfect broadside. There were no deer behind him and no brush or objects between my rifle muzzle and him. I put the crosshairs right behind his right-front should and squeezed the trigger.
I saw the muzzle flash off the old Whelen and immediately after the report, heard that familiar thwack of the bullet hitting the deer. That buck went down right where he stood, reflexed for a few seconds, and then was still. I quickly cycle the bolt, grabbing my spent round to put in my pocket and chambering another. I put the scope back on him and watched him laying there motionless for a few seconds. Then I put the safety on and put the rifle down. I glassed the buck for a few minutes, but I already knew he was dead. 5-10 minutes after pulling the trigger I climbed down out of the stand. As I approached him, I realized this was going to be the best buck I’d ever taken. Just as I suspected, he was dead so I unloaded my rifle and just took in the whole situation.
Anytime I harvest an animal, I always say a prayer to God, thanking him for allowing me to take the animal. This time was no different but I did add a special praise thanking him also for allowing me to take such an amazing buck. I spent some time with him before I field-dressed him, then got him loaded in my cousin’s truck and took him back to camp so I could get him hung up. A few hours later I was able to get him skinned and quartered. Later that night, we all ate mesquite-grilled ribeye steaks followed by whisky and cigars by the campfire. We toasted my buck. He was the only deer taken throughout opening weekend. I started thinking about it and realized I haven’t shot a deer on opening morning since my first buck all the way back 29 years ago. I hope he’s not my last, good lord willing but I’d be just fine if he ends up being my best of all time.