Today I write from the library of my university, during the last week before finals. With a crammed schedule, lots of studying and even more consumption of caffeine, I should have spent this past weekend studying for exams, writing research papers and preparing presentations. Instead I spent 10 hours in the car going home and hunting the opening day of Iowa's shotgun season. Leaving Friday from the Twin Cities I arrived at home in time to have dinner with some of the family and arrange all of my hunting equipment for the following morning. Getting up around 5:00 am, my Father and I were on the road half and hour later and by 6:00 we met up with my Dad's friend, Roger, who he has hunted with for years. We headed to the same farm that I tagged the two deer nearly a year ago, (those stories can be seen below).
Upon arrival I dropped Roger and Dad off on one end of the farm and headed to the other. Our plan was to sit along likely travel routes of deer. We would sit for around three hours during the early hours of the morning when deer are still active and moving towards their daytime bedding areas. As I made my way towards my spot I saw half a dozen or so deer feeding on a harvested soybean field on the opposite side of the valley of me. As I began to walk along the draw of timber I saw two white tails bouncing through the timber in the lowlight of the predawn. The deer appeared to be anywhere. I found a place to set my stool under a tree stand we have set up in the area. It is what I would consider a 'pinch-point'. Two creeks and fingers of timber join a large stream and create a relatively large piece of timber. Behind me is a hillside covered in native plants, across the main stream channel is a standing cornfield. Dad sat in between one of the creeks and the cornfield in thick woods and shrubs to the North of me and Roger on the far North fence line.
I was still arranging all of the gear I had drug down to my spot. I got the tripod and camera set up in case I had time to get video of a deer as it came close enough for a shot. I got my binoculars, water, gloves and anything else I might need during the sit spread out around me. I had just put my facemask on and was still making a lot of commotion when I looked to my left. All I could see was the body of a deer. The head was concealed by trees and other brush. Both of us stayed motionless for 30 seconds or so and finally the deer moved. With enough experience with deer, I could tell that the flick of the tail and the body motion that followed meant that this deer was not overly disturbed by what he saw. When he moved I also saw that this was a small buck.
I want to take a moment to talk about something that I have thought about quite a bit lately. I had greatly considered letting bucks of a lower antler size go past me without taking a shot, but considering the very limited time and opportunity I had during this season I opted to go ahead and fill my tag with a deer that had yet to reach its full antler and body size potential. To some, the idea of waiting for a 'big buck' is considered trophy hunting. This misconception and the way that it is used frustrates me on many levels. First, every animal I have ever taken is a trophy. Not because killing something is worth celebrating but because that animal represents the hunt and the journey that I was on that led me to that animal. These 'trophies' are for no one but myself because it reminds me of my experiences. Secondly, the reason that I have passed on younger bucks in the past is to allow myself the possible opportunity of taking a larger deer and also letting that buck hopefully live at least another year and grow to be even bigger. I have been fortunate to take many deer over the years, but two reason that a hunter would wait for a mature buck to shoot is because of the difficulty in harvesting one and the fact that they are amazing representatives of their species. The older a buck gets, generally the smarter and harder they are to kill. For me, and many other hunters, it provides a challenge and often prolongs the hunting experience, allowing us to spend more time in Creation. Back to the story.
As soon as the buck started moving I grabbed my shotgun off my lap and waited for a clear shot opportunity. Knowing I had some time before the deer would come into view again I turned on my camera hoping to film the action. Just as I did this I heard the snort a deer makes when it detects danger in the area. I wheeled around to my left to hear the crashing of brush and see multiple deer scattering in every direction. This is where I originally expected the deer to come from that morning but this buck had distracted me from watching that area. Without a shot opportunity I turned back to where the buck had been standing and saw that he had whirled around, stopped broadside and was about take off. I centered the sights behind his shoulder at 50 yards and pulled the trigger. He ran! Deer were seemingly everywhere, running all over and I was unable to maintain focus on what happened to the buck. I sat down and attempted to refocus.
I waited for the sun to finally light the area up and I headed over in the direction that the deer was standing. I found white hair and immediately my stomach sank. White hair is not found anywhere near where I was aiming and often it means that the deer was hit low. I found blood. At first it was pinkish in a way I've never seen before but as I continued it turned dark red and I was struggling to find much blood at all but a few spots here and there. I decided to go and wait until I met up with Dad and Roger before I tracked it further. Around 9:30 I heard shots come from their directions. I knew both had shot because I could hear the distinction between the sound of the shots. It turns out that the deer that had spooked right before I had shot had slowly made their way to my Dad where he bagged a deer, and then they ran to Roger where he got one as well. Around 10 o'clock I made my way towards them and listened to their stories and told them mine. We headed back to the last place I had seen blood. My dad and I tracked the scarce drops out of the woods and up a hill into a native brushy area. Roger went ahead in case the deer was still alive and bedded and tried to leave. We were about 100 yards from where the deer was standing when I shot when Rogers says "there he is". 20 yards in front of me lay a big bodied, six-point, whitetail buck. All three of us had filled a tag on our morning sit, no doubt a successful one.
After field dressing the buck we went into town, grabbed a bite to eat and headed back into the field to fill the one remaining tag. We slowly walked the property and after seeing lots of deer and a few miscues on where I should have been my dad filled the tag. This was certainly one of the most action-packed days of deer hunting I have been apart of in a while, and the many miles I drove for one day of hunting were well worth it. I can now focus my time and effort on schoolwork until I head home for Christmas break and can look forward to the
muzzleloader deer season.
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