An 8 Point at 8:06
11/30/2024
I set up my camper for deer season Wednesday in the ANF along a trout stream. It was suppose to get into freezing weather come Saturday and below 32° 24 hours a day into next week. Turkey Thursday and Friday morning it had snowed some.
Around 10:00am Friday morning I decided to take a walk in the woods to look for recent deer sign in the fresh snow. I also had trimmed some pine kindling and took it with me on my way to where I was going to sit for Saturday. Being it was suppose to be below 32° I figured I just may want a fire to stay out in the frigid weather all day or at least till I get a deer. I didn’t find any fresh deer sign but I did gather up some dry wood for a fire Saturday.
My son Giddeon arrived at the camper Friday evening around 6:00pm. We talked about where we were going to sit come Saturday. We decided what time to wake up in the morning and start our climb up the mountainside. He wasn’t hunting very close to me but I gave him a walkie-talkie anyhow should we be in range to communicate. We packed sandwiches and food Friday night and put them in our packs with water and needed supplies.
Saturday morning we had breakfast and he drove down the road to where he was going to park and enter the woods. I got my stuff on and walked down the road to where I was going to enter the forest. It was well below 32° so we both were dressed warm and I brought extra clothes in my sling pack.
I found my way to the gas line with the help of my headlamp. As I walked up the lane and by the time I got to where I wanted to start up the hill I didn’t need my headlamp on. With the help of the slight snow covered ground I made my way up the mountainside in the dim morning light. I have posted in the same place each deer season for the first day for years so I pretty much knew how to get there without decorating the trees with ribbons. I slowly walked along trying to be as quiet as possible and slow going as not to sweat. The forest floor was covered with dried autumn leaves so trying to be quiet wasn’t all that successful. Anyhow I got to my deer post where I wanted to hunt from and settled down for the time being.
As light started to make the wooded forest more visible I looked around my surrounding. It was as cold as I figured it would be. I hadn’t hunted in cold weather, below freezing, for sometime in the past few years during deer seasons. Gusts of wind would blow through now and then bringing chilling coldness. With the gusts it was hard to hear anything that would be sneaking through the young tree sapling which still had leaves on their thin branches. As the morning got somewhat brighter a wood pecker started to knock on a tree near by. It wasn’t long after he started another came along and they both made it sound like a bunch of Amish pounding nails while constructing a wooden barn. It was if they were trying to see who could make the noisiest pecker noise just to annoy me! Other then them, and a gust of chilling wind, it was pretty quiet as the morning ticked on. I heard some shots far off in the distance but nothing close by to get excited about. I took turns moving my hot seat to look either downhill or uphill. I always kept an eye on the bunch of saplings down to my left, looking down hill, as I have saw deer come through them in the past years. I had got one buck that came out of the sapling cover some years back so I always kept that within my vision.
I was sitting, looking into the wind, when I saw my first sight of movement up the hill to my left. The deer walked as if it was spooked. It was pretty far away and moving so even trying the scope it out wasn’t easy. I couldn’t tell if it was a buck or not but it was too far for a decent shot at a moving deer anyhow. That deer did give me an indication which way other deer would be traveling.
I was more interested in shooting a buck though I did have an anterless deer tag. I still had venison in the chest freezer at home so I really didn’t need 2 deer. If the situation came up in the morning, should I see a doe within shooting range, I’m not sure if I would take the shot. I was more interested in a buck.
I was sitting, watching down the mountainside, when I saw a deer hide slowly walk out of the sapling heading down at an angle across from me about 90 yards or so. I could see antlers but it was a dark rack and not very easy to see how many points with the forest and sapling background. He wasn’t looking my way but I could tell he was suspicious. Once his head got behind a wide width tree I shouldered my rifle for a better look. He took a couple steps forward and I was able to see at least 3 up tines on his right antler, legal where I was hunting. I slid the safe off the lever and pointed the cross-hairs on his front shoulder. A couple more steps and I would be able to get a shot behind his shoulder that was still behind the large tree. I doubt he knew it but he gave me that opportunity with a step or two. With the cross-hairs now aimed for a mortal hit I said good-bye and pulled the trigger. The 300 Savage boomed to life. The buck jumped, I swear at least 3 feet off the ground, came down on all fours and took off in the direction he was headed. He ran like old nitro funny cars on a drag strip. I watched him till he disappeared down the hill about another hundred yards or more. I listened as I heard him run upon the noisy forest floor till it sounded as if he crashed down somewhere below. It sounded like a bunch of kids jumping in a pile of dried raked leaves. I was pretty sure that was his last urge of life. I stood and waited a few minutes listening to any other movement and kept my eyes peeled over the hillside where I could see beyond where I thought he may have ran. It was silent. I must have scared the hell out of the woodpeckers as I didn’t hear a peck out of them after the shot.
After 5 minutes or so I clipped my hot seat to my belt. I put my water bottle back in my sling pack and slung it over my shoulder. I picked up the 300 casing and put it in my pocket. I made sure the lever action rifle was on safe and kept it ready within my grip. I Stepped a few steps at a time towards where the buck disappeared down the hill. Each step, on the dried forest leaves, sounded like elementary children opening their crinkled paper lunch bags at lunch time. Getting close to the hillside I looked for blood but didn’t see any on the snow cover. I looked down the hill to where I thought he would of ran but didn’t see any sign of him. I decided to walk back to where I figured he was when I shot. Back up there I found fresh deer tracks. I tied a piece of TP on a branch and began to slowly follow the fresh deer tracks in the overturned leaves and powdered snow. There was still no sign of blood but I was sure he was hit. He didn’t make it very easy following his tracks and without the snow I’m sure it would have been harder to follow.
Once I got to the hillside I was able to overlook the complete ground below me. I didn’t see the deer anywhere in the distance I thought where he ran. I looked down and saw his tracks. He had turned and went straight down the hill. Still not seeing blood I turned my head and followed the tracks with my eyes. Within 40 yards there laid my quarry. I walked up to him and saw three tines on his left beam of his dark bone colored rack. I lifted his head and saw the brow tine and the 4 points on his right beam. Another 8 point, I thought. I looked at my phone and it was 8:06am. I’m sure this was the earliest I ever got a buck in the morning. I guess I didn’t have to spend time getting cold enough to start that fire which was all right by me.
I drug him over to a level place to field dress him. I took off my orange parka and put it over my rifle I leaned against a tree. I took off my brown button down, exposing my orange ‘T’ shirt, and stuffed it in the back pouch of my parka before field dressing the buck. I saw where the bullet entered behind his right shoulder and exited behind his left. After field dressing him I cleaned the liver off and put it in a big zip lock for a future liver and onion meal. While I was filling out the ear tag I heard rustling leaves up above me. I looked and saw a bone white racked buck slowly moving, as if with caution, through the trees. I was pretty sure he had walked pretty close to where I was sitting this morning. He looked to be an 8 point, like the one I shot, only with a much whiter rack.
Three years ago I was hunting in the same place. I saw 4 different bucks but they were all illegal to shoot. Two were just Y’s without brow tines and they were with a spike. Later on another spike came down the hill. I hunted the following year hoping that they would visit this area again but I never saw them. I wondered if these two bucks were a couple of ones I saw three years ago that grew up?
I roped my buck, gathered my parka and equipment and drug him down to the gas line. From there I drug him upon the gas line to where I entered the ANF. I left him lay while I walked the road up to get my truck. After driving back I had to wait about 10 minutes before help arrived to help me get the buck on the back of my truck bed.
Back at the campsite I got him hung up with my Gambrel. I ate the two sandwiches I had packed with a cup of hot tea. After that I looked at my watch and I was just in time for my 2:00 nap.
Being bitter cold, and really not needing another deer, I stuck around camp and stayed inside most of the time. My son Giddeon didn’t see or get a shot at any bucks that he hunted on Saturday or Sunday till noon.
As I pulled out, with camper in tow Sunday, I lit up a RP Number 6 for the drive home.
Coincidentally, I was born, raised and lived at 806 Park Ave. until I got married. The same time ‘8:06’ when I got this buck. Sometimes I think my grandfather and dad look down upon me from above. My grandfather tests my hunting ability. My dad on the other hand leaves subtle signs to jog my memory…
~doubletaper
