11-12-05 - Saturday

Deer hunting season opened last weekend (11-5-05) with 8 of us at the shack (dad, Donn, Jess, Marty, Mark, Tom, Missy and me). Dad shot six times at three deer on Saturday, wounding one. After searching for several hours, we could not find the wounded deer. While dad walked back to the truck to procure more ammunition, I sat in his ground blind and ate my lunch - it was about noon. Not more than fifteen minutes after he left, I was panning the woodline with my scope and noticed some movement. Wouldn't you know it, there was a deer. It was about a 150 yard shot, but I downed it (poor shot - I hit it in the hind quarters). I was pretty frustrated when I found out that the deer was a yearling doe weighing no more than 80 pounds. Oh well, it was my first deer in several years. In fact, last year I only saw one deer while hunting, and never got a shot.

Fast forward to the second weekend of deer hunting - this time there were 7 of us at the shack (dad, Marty, Donn, Jess, Laura, Evan and me - Tom and Clay came for the day on Saturday, and Mark showed up late Saturday night). I dashed out of class at a little before noon on Friday and about two hours into the trip north I realized that I forgot my wallet at home. Nice. What do I do now? Thankfully my hunting license was in my fanny pack. Also thankfully, I had won at cards last weekend at the shack, so I had about $12 in quarters in my bag. I would need that money for fuel to make it up to Hoyt Lakes, where I stopped in to see mom and ask her for some more gas money (she also gave me $5 in quarters so I had card money to lose in a pinch…). I refueled in H.L. at about 5:00pm Friday, and was at the shack by 6 or so.

It was a calm evening. Temperature was in the low-50's, which was unseasonably warm for mid-November in northeastern Minnesota. It was supposed to cool down on Saturday with a chance of rain, which may turn into snow by Sunday. I thought this was a perfect forecast, as animals are often active prior to weather changes, particularly storms. I was excited. My plan was to sit in my portable stand Saturday morning until 9 or 10am and if I hadn't seen anything by then I was going to take the stand down and move it to another location where I had always seen a lot of deer sign, including scrapes and rubs. The portable was in a good spot, but the woods were thick and I only had a couple of areas where I could shoot if deer came along. It was the same place I had sat both weekends last year and the whole time last weekend (except for when I shot the deer from my dad's blind) having only seen one deer last year and nothing so far this season - so I was growing tired of this particular spot.

We played cards (cut-throat smear) until about 11pm or so on Friday night (I didn't win a single game), and dad and I were up with the alarm at 4am, ready to hit the woods. We were out the door of the shack by about 4:30, drove to our hunting area (about a mile from the shack), parked the truck, and walked for about 15 more minutes in the pitch dark to my dad's hunting blind. We arrived there about 5:30. I wished him luck and walked the few hundred yards further to my portable stand. My dad's blind is in the middle of a recent clear-cut where he overlooks the edge of the woods about 100-150 yards away. The deer commonly feed in the clear-cut and along the edges. He has had good luck in this area. My stand was about 75 yards deeper into the woods that he was overlooking. The deer that do not poke out into the field are supposed to walk by me in the woods - at least that is the theory. Certainly there is a lot of deer sign in my area, the problem is that it is difficult to actually see the deer; especially since there wasn't any snow as a white backdrop for the brown deer. In the two years I have hunted here, I have always seen a lot of deer sign and heard a lot of noises that could have been deer - but only once did I see a deer (last year). By the time I saw that forkhorn, it was so close that when I shifted to get into position, it heard me and ran off in a blink.

I got settled into my stand by about 5:50am, and rested my eyes for a bit. It would not be light enough to shoot for almost another hour. It was very dark and extremely quiet. As I started to dose off, I was startled awake at about 6am or so by some rustling leaves. I didn't know what it was because I couldn't see anything. My mind started playing tricks on me as I began to imagine a pack of wolves surrounding my stand. Thankfully I am about 18 feet above the ground in a pine tree. I settled back down and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds slowly increase in volume. By about 6:15 or so I could make out the treeline. About 6:30 the squirrels announced their awakening. They seemed to be everywhere. I saw two or three once it was light enough by about 6:45. I also saw a couple of field mice jumping over logs. Since deer hunting is 99% boredom, I actually enjoy watching these little animals going about their morning routines. Last year in this stand, I watched a pine martin frolic around for several minutes. Very enjoyable.

I was keeping track of these sounds and movements, because that is what deer hunting is all about. When I hear something, I slowly turn in that direction and stare until I see movement. When I see any movement, I stare at it until I can identify the animal. Usually, it is a squirrel or a mouse or a bird. If I am lucky, it is a pine martin. Maybe some day I'll be really lucky and it will be a deer.

At about 7:20 or so, it was getting lighter and lighter outside. It remained very still in the woods so I could hear everything. I like this kind of hunting. I noticed the typical sound of a meandering squirrel off to my right in some thick brush in a slight valley. I was struck by this particular sound because every few minutes I would hear a twig break. It is unusual for a small rodent to break a stick like that, so I sort of prepared myself - just in case. I stood up and positioned my body in that direction. I followed the sound for probably 25 minutes, all the while thinking: "maybe it is a pine martin…that would be cool!" Finally, out from behind the thick balsam's came not a martin, but a deer! And it was a big bodied deer. Bigger than any deer I had ever seen while hunting in the woods before. Its head was down and it was moving fast from my right to in front of me. Even though I could see the animal, it still sounded like a squirrel to me. I didn't see any antlers, but I knew this was a buck - it was so big! It was pretty far away from me - maybe 75 yards through pencil poplars and young balsam pine trees. I leaned my back against my tree and pulled my .30-06 rifle up to my shoulder. I found the meandering animal in my scope. I though to myself that this was a difficult shot, but I didn't have a lot of time to think any longer. BOOOOM! The shot pierced the cold and quiet peacefulness of the woods. I trained my scope on where I had shot and thought I saw the deer shaking its leg on the ground. Had I actually hit it? No way. I didn't see or hear anything running off - so I must have. I took several deep breaths and looked through the scope again. Is that an ear? I wasn't sure. I turned on my walkie talkie and waited. After about 30 seconds, sure enough my dad's voice came across the radio: "Was that you?" He said. "Yes," I replied, "I think I got one down." He advised me to wait a few minutes and then go to check it out.

So that's what I did. I checked the area with my scope once again - "that has got to be an ear" I told myself. I put the sling back on my rifle, checked to make sure the safety was on, and slowly walked down the stairs on the tree. I marked the deer by a couple of tall pines. I gradually eased my way through the now even quieter woods toward the area. I didn't hear or see anything. Finally I arrived to where I thought I shot the deer and there was nothing. No deer. No blood. No hair. Nothing. I stood still for a few minutes and thought through the chain of events. Did I miss? All of the sudden off to my right I heard a crashing sound. Oh no, I thought…did I jump my deer? Did I scare off my wounded animal, or did I miss completely? I looked and saw the deer about 40 yards away, struggling to run away. I leaned my rifle up against a tree and looked through the scope at it. It wasn't moving. I walked around some brush, and there was the deer - about 20 yards away. It was trying to get up, but it couldn't. Instead of watching it struggle, I pointed the rifle at the vital organs and pulled the trigger. It didn't move again. This isn't exactly the highlight of any hunt, but it is something that has to be done. I paused briefly, then became excited again - holy smokes that is a big deer. The walkie talkie squawked again - "was that the killing shot?" dad asked. "Yup," I responded, "I've got one down - and it is big!" "How many points?" he asked. I told him that I didn't know, but it was a big bodied deer. He said he was on his way over.

I didn't approach the animal, but slowly walked back to my stand to remove some of the warm winter clothing I was wearing and waited for my dad. I took a swig of Gatorade. Wow, I thought - I finally got a big deer! My dad arrived shortly and we walked over to the animal. As we walked, I replayed the events for him: "I heard him for 20-25 minutes - thought he was a squirrel - he came from over there and walked over here…" When we got to the deer, we were both excited. It was an 8-pointer. The only other buck I had shot was my first deer ever, a spike buck back in 1993. This was a much bigger animal with a respectable rack. I was very happy. My dad and I exchanged high-five's, then we got down to the dirty work. We gutted it, and dragged it the few hundred yards out into the clear-cut near my dad's blind. We finished dealing with the deer by about 10am. I told dad that I was going to sit in my stand for a couple more hours, then I was going to walk in the woods a bit to explore. He was going to go back into his blind.

I got back into my stand and was thoroughly enjoying the hunting experience. I was now a deer hunter. I had shot deer before - but nothing like this. I ate a peanut butter flavored Power Bar and slammed down a Gatorade. Life was good. "Thank you God for giving me this awesome experience." What a great morning. The sun was shining, it was in the upper 30's - quite comfortable actually, and within a few minutes the birds and squirrels were back at it.

Within minutes after finishing my snack, I started pinpointing sounds again. Then, I heard a twig snap behind me. I jokingly said to myself: "Here we go again!" and smiled as I slowly stood up and turned around. I followed a squirrel from behind me to my left to behind me to my right. I lost sight of it, but heard it for several minutes. Then I saw it again, and it was only about 20 yards behind my stand. It started yelling (chirping, barking) at something. They do this sometimes when they see me and know I don't belong in their woods. But this was different - this squirrel was not looking at me, but at something that was behind him. I thought that was strange, but maybe he was barking at his mate. I could hear something back there, but, again, being that it was so thick I really couldn't see anything. I half paid attention to that location for several more minutes, learning from my experience from only a couple hours earlier. Sure enough - out of nowhere, and only about 40 yards away from me, a HUGE buck was walking briskly from behind my stand on the left heading south - right toward my main shooting lane. For the hours and hours I sat in this stand last year and this one, I always prayed that a deer would walk exactly where this deer was walking. It would be the easiest shot in the world. The problem was, the buck was so close, all I could see was his massive rack! It was like nothing I had ever seen before (except in magazines or on a hunting TV show). It all happened very quickly - it was probably a matter or 20 or 30 seconds. I followed the body of the deer with my scope toward my shooting lane. I was shaking like a leaf. As he stepped out into the open area, I shot. The buck really didn't react - he just picked up the pace a bit and was invisible within 2 or 3 steps. By now I was shaking uncontrollably. I can't believe I missed!!! It was the easiest shot in the world - walking relatively slowly, broadside at about 35 yards. The shot I had made only a couple hours earlier was much more difficult! I can't believe I blew this opportunity. Thank you God for giving me this opportunity, but I think I blew it!!!

Within seconds my dad was on the walkie talkie. "Did you get it?" he asked. "I'm not sure," I responded, "but believe it or not it was bigger than the other one!" He advised to wait 20 minutes or so and then go to check it out. So I spent the next 20-30 minutes second-guessing myself. Maybe I should have grunted or somehow gotten the buck to stop before I shot. I always thought I would never be able to shoot a big buck, because I get buck fever even when I hear a squirrel! After about 30 minutes I dejectedly got down from my stand. I walked the very short distance to where I shot at the deer. Nothing. Well, I thought, this adds to the story: I got a nice deer and missed a monster. On my way up to the shack I prayed that everyone would be safe and that I would have a good story to tell when I got home. I guess this was part of it. After looking for about 5 minutes, I almost gave up. I was literally on my hands and knees looking through the dead leaves trying to find any sign of distress. And there it was: a small drop of blood. Holy smokes, I hit the deer! I got on the walkie talkie and told my dad that I had some blood and that I was going to look for more. I found a little more blood - not more than what could come from a paper cut, so I still wasn't too overly optimistic. I searched high and low for about 20 minutes and didn't see any other blood or hair or anything. Now I was getting even more frustrated: I wounded a monster buck, and I will never be able to find it. That's worse than missing it completely! I had visions of my dad's experience of a couple years ago in this area where he shot at (and thinks he hit) a huge buck but was never able to find it. Since he threw his back out that night, he was never able to go back out and look for that one. Coincidentally, last weekend he stumbled upon the skeleton of a big 10-point buck - exactly in the area where he shot at that monster 2 years earlier. It is more than likely the deer he killed. Was this going to be my fate as well?

I called my dad and asked him to come over and help me look. He arrived within 10 minutes and I again replayed the events and pointed in the direction that the deer was headed. We spread out and searched for any sign. After about 15 minutes, seeing nothing, we couldn't see each other in the woods. He yelled out to me to see where I was in relation to him. I responded. He suggested that we head further north. As soon as he yelled that to me, we both heard a crashing sound off in that direction. He yelled over to me: "Was that you?" I responded "no," and we both slowly walked in that direction, thinking that we may have just pushed up my wounded deer. After a few more minutes I heard my dad yell for me again: "Justin!!!" "What!" I answered. "There is a huge deer here dead in front of me - holy shit that is one big deer!!!" I pumped my fist and started walking toward his voice through the thick woods. As I was walking, he got on the walkie talkie to the other guys in our party and relayed the news: "We just found Justin's deer - and it is huge - at least a 10-pointer, maybe more! We'll need some help getting this brute out of the woods!" Evan and Laura said they would be on there way. I found my dad and saw the huge deer. Much bigger than the first, with a massive rack. If the first deer was big - this one was humungous. We high-fived again. What an amazing experience. We looked at the rack - turned out it was a 13-pointer (8x5 nontypical rack, complete with drop tine). Unbelievable. It was stone dead, so we think the noise we heard was a different deer.

Turns out I hit the deer right where I was aiming - right in the lung behind the shoulder. The bullet went right through the deer and he didn't even know it. It also turned out that he only ran about 50 yards from where I shot it. We walked around it during our initial search. After catching my breath, dad and I struggled to budge the beast so that I could start gutting it. I used up my disposable rubber gloves on the first buck - this time I had to use my bare hands. Not fun - but I was smiling the whole time. After we had finished gutting it, we walked back to my dad's ground blind to drop off our guns and other hunting stuff. Evan and Laura had arrived on an ATV to help us drag out the deer. It was heavy, but we dragged it into the clear-cut and Evan drove the ATV into the clear-cut and we threw the beast on the rack and him and I drove it back to my dad's truck. Then we came back and hauled the first buck back to the truck.

By the time we got done dealing with both deer, it was about 2pm. My dad and I told Evan and Laura that we were done hunting for the day, and that Laura could sit in my dad's ground blind and Evan could sit in my portable stand if he wanted. So they did, while dad and I walked back to the truck - both of us beaming from ear to ear. What a wonderful hunt. And it was especially special because I could share it with my dad. After dealing with the deer and taking a couple of pictures, we celebrated (me with Miller Lite and him with MGD Lite.) As we started to relax it started raining. Slowly our shack-mates returned to see our prizes. First Jess, then Donn, then Marty, and after dark Evan and Laura returned, unfortunately having not seen anything. As each returned, my dad and I relayed the story - each time more excitedly than the previous.

That night both dad and I lost at smear, but we were still high on buck fever. It rained all night. Jess got a call from his grandmother that a storm was coming in. I called mom and she said they were expecting 5 inches of snow and 50mph winds. When we went to bed at about midnight, it was still raining hard. We woke up at 7 or so on Sunday and the entire landscape was covered in about 2 inches of wet, slushy snow. And the wind was howling at least 30mph. We packed everything up as I was heading home that morning. Dad and I went to Butlers Sport Stop to have the deer weighed for the "Big Buck" contest we were entered in. All of us (except for Marty) estimated the weight of the big deer to be over 200 pounds. Marty thought it was slightly smaller. Turns out the big one weighed 180 lbs and the smaller one weighed 140 lbs. It's hard to estimate when you haven't seen anything that big before. Big deer nonetheless. We registered the deer at the Lucky Seven store where they took our picture with both deer and pasted it on the wall next to the register. It was the second biggest one up there. We brought the deer over to Tom's place and hung the big one up in his garage for butchering. He is going to try to mount it for me. His son, Lee (also a shack regular) got a 16 pointer when he was hunting opening weekend with a friend near Babbitt. Tom is going to mount that one as well. All in all, it was a hunt of a lifetime. Sameer and I like to talk about Holy Mojo. I think I used up decades of hunting Holy Mojo this season. God was definitely present in this experience. Now I am even more excited about next years hunt!!!