In the end the hunting gods smiled upon me....and all three of my tags were filled. Through the cold winter months I've been reliving in my mind the adventures of the 2020 deer season...quite a welcome one in a pandemic year.
I enjoyed many of my hunts of the season regardless of the outcome. After harvesting an early October doe nearby on public land ten minutes from my front door, I finally made a commitment to hunt long and far and use my mountain bike to travel as far back as possible in my local public land areas. The basic goal was to hit places I'd scouted for years. Places that are so far from parking areas and trailheads that most will not bother at all. Boy, did it work out!
The last week of archery I saw some monster bucks, but never got a good shot for the areas were heavily overgrown and it was hard to get a shot with a bow, because of all the deflection possibilities. The deer seemed comfortable traveling in and out of the bedding cover surrounding me, and the scrub oak provided enough mast to keep them interested as I could hear them crunching appetizers before their twilight strolls or quick bites in the frosty morning before setting up in their staging areas for the day. It was grand live theatre and great fun to watch high octane bucks give chase on every hunt...sometimes the action started not five minutes after I reached my stand. I had plausible chances, but I just never felt good enough to take a clean shot. Sometimes, I was just plain outsmarted or out lucked.
I made a last play for a buck in the closing days of archery by biking out after dark and moving my stand to a better tree with more shooting lanes on a snow spitting Wednesday night. It was crazy, but I got the stand hung and felt better... whooping and smiling at the snowflakes that glowed bright in my headlamp afterglow as I speedily descended ridges back to my truck...kind of knowing that it was just me and the coyotes making noise in the woods that gale filled night.
Two evenings later on the last day of archery I was in my stand by the last hour for one final chance. An opportunity arrived in the final minutes of hunting light, a clopping young buck based on the rapidity with which he walked right into my shooting lane following the faux scent trail I laid for him...but he was a 4-point...or at least I could not see any brow tines in the waning light...I remember leaning out of the stand and willing confirmation of one more tine...one more point..., but I could not take the shot...because there did not appear to be any more points! It was heartbreaking, yet thrilling to have a buck in my midst at the final bell.
A week later on opening day of rifle, I knew hunters would push deer back there, and I woke early and rode my bike out into the darkness and climbed ridges to get to my tree stand. I knew I was in the right area, because I didn't really see another hunter, and that is saying something for public land on opening day of rifle. At 7 a.m. three doe ran right by me, likely spooked. It was still a little dark and I let them go, because it wasn't a great shot with the scope. Then, around 8 a.m. a panting coyote ran by, and I got him in the scope for a fleeting second, but could not squeeze off a shot. Then, a little button buck came out, and it was fun watching him. He definitely reacted to the coyote trail and it was cool observing him follow the backtrack. Around 10 a.m. it was really getting cold, and two doe dropped down off the ridge behind me angling for the thick cover to my rear left, and I snapped off a round at the first one, knocking her down with a solid neck shot at 60 yards. Now, both my doe tags were filled and I could concentrate on a buck. I towed the doe out with a plastic sled hooked to my bike:)
The week between I helped my uncle and dad, and hunted with my brother doing some mini drives and we had a great time. My brother who had taken a buck in archery filled his second doe tag on a stalk with me on a windy day. It was really cool to track the deer in a trace of snow. We had deer running every which way...nonstop action.
The middle Saturday of the season, I was excited to get back to my stand again. Maybe a little too excited. I missed a decent buck chasing some doe around 7:30 a.m. and I felt lower than a cricket's knee. I knew it was my fault for rushing the shot. Ahhh....adrenaline...sometimes a hinderance. But, still thrilling.
It was a lean, young buck. I missed him clean, and I was glad for that at least. I would spend the rest of the day doing drives and pushing deer. Getting one in front of a family friend, Spencer, who harvested a nice doe. It took my mind off the miss, for a little while.
I awoke early Sunday and hit the range just to make sure...yes, I should have removed my heavy wool glove before taking the shot, the rifle was fine.
After Sunday passed, I made some desperate last week of rifle season mountain bike treks on Monday and Tuesday just to get back to my stand and hunt the last hour before dark. On Monday a bitter north wind blasted me and the tree rocked, and all I saw was a little 50 pound doe sneak out right before dark. It was a cold ride home, but I kept my spirits up.
Tuesday, after teaching all day on a screen at the kitchen table and running the school days of my own three kids, I was ready to hit the woods, and I made it a little earlier....just enough time to do a scent drag and climb into my stand for an evening hunt. All was quiet and a zephyr was blowing in from the west, and I was worried it was too much for deer movement. But, I knew that the last 20 minutes of the day were my best hope.
With roughly 20 minutes of shooting light remaining, a nice doe emerged from the overgrown bedding area to my right and crossed with a young doe at her heels. It was awesome just to see some activity, and I turned to see if more deer would come out behind them...and that is when my hunting season changed in a heartbeat.
A magnificent buck emerged. He scent checked and walked right over my scent drag and followed the does out...and I waited and waited for a good shot sans heavy wool glove on my shooting hand while willing myself to quell the adrenaline rush. I remember him looking right at me, just the right angle for me to see that he had nice brow tines and enough points. He moved into a window, and I raised my Remington Springfield Model 700 with Leupold Rifleman 2x7 scope, and wrapped my finger around the trigger and squeezed off a shot in the same fashion I had at the range Sunday morning. He bucked and ran up the ridge, and for a moment, I couldn't believe it. I was sure I had hit him! His tail was down and he stood for a moment, wavering, and I promptly fired off two more shots, but it was the first bullet that found its mark unbeknownst to me, it was a good heart shot. He dropped a few seconds later. And I started talking out loud to myself...in disbelief. Sometimes you work so hard at it...it becomes difficult to imagine that the moment will actually arrive and all the practice will pay off!
My last tag was filled, and I was amazed! A late rifle season buck! He was a hog of a buck. Swollen neck, full rut, heavy bodied, and a nice 6 point rack. A great Pennsylvania rifle buck.
As night fell fifteen minutes later and I dressed him out, I looked up at the now calm, star-filled skies and thanked the hunting gods and my Pop, whose rifle I still use to this day (and still accurate as ever as long as the hunter keeps the adrenaline in check!).
It took me four hours to drag the buck the mile and a half back to the truck (my brother thankfully arrived late in the drag and expedited the whole process). We stood in the darkness of that December night and reflected on a memorable deer season indeed. Between the two of us, we filled all six tags. We both had taken bucks in the same season, and had stalked and driven deer together in snow, wind, and sunlight.
I was home in time to get a Christmas photo with the boys (Katie had already turned in for the night). I wanted to make the last picture our family Christmas Card this year...but....anyhow, I was happy. The freezer is full and the winter months are upon us. Life is good. Hunting...even better.
