I hunted Saturday morning with no shooter to show for it.


Saturday afternoon found me in the HOT stand that I had seen several bucks in the weekend before with lots of rutting activity as well. I got there about 2pm and settled in. The drizzling rain soon turned to big slow drops so I busted out the Porta Roof and pressed onward. I thought to myself, "self, it is raining, cold and January during the rut...this COULD just become something good.



I took notice out of the corner of my eye around 4pm as a doe BLASTED across the power line. WAY down the powerline I might emphasize. I guesstimated she was about 300ish yards away, but didnt have my rangefinder with me to check my math. As I turned in my chair to look at the doe my hat fell out of my lap and down to the ground. Since the hat was my sole means of keeping my bald head warm as dark approached I decided I better climb down and get it before it got soaked. I climbed down and grabbed my hat and started back up the ladder. As I approched about the halfway point back up I had a thought. I thought "hey dumba$$, why do you think that doe was running?"

At that point I slowly turned left and looked down the powerline. There he stood...some 300 yards away, broadside looking at a retard hanging onto a ladder.

I scurried up, grabbed the rifle and got it as steady as I could and sqeezed off. The mighty 300 mag thundered and he just STOOD there.

I reloaded (in record time for a single shot I might add :shock: ) and brought him back into view...as I started to sqeeze, he BOLTED!! I followed him with my scope and popped off another shot while he was running in a last ditch effort to pin him to the ground. He disappeared into the creek bottom.


I got down and found his tracks where he ran across. No blood, no hair, no nothing. I expected as much. After my search I headed home, cold, wet and heartbroken.

Sunday


I had higher hopes for Sunday as the Mrs. was scheduled to accompany me up for and evening hunt after church. She had only been once this year prior and a horrible cough she had ran the only does off before she got a shot. I felt bad for her as she really took to hunting last year, but hasnt had much time for it this year.

She was pumped as we headed north and so was I. I sat her up in a stand down the powerline on a food plot. I could see her from where I was sitting (that cursed big buck spot :evil:). The first of the activity that evening was a pretty nice 8 point that came in chasing a doe. I let it walk for her to get a shot at it. I could see as the event unfolded from where I was that the buck had a bead on her and would'nt turn away. He finally slipped off before she could get the rifle on him. She then sent me a text message of obscenites (at the deer) that would make any sailor blush.

I love it!! She finally really understood at that point what we deer hunters go through.


She shot a doe a few minutes later and then another "doe" about dark. I got down and found her deer. One was a nice doe that went 87lbs and the other was the smallest 6 point Ive ever seen.

She knew the rules for shooting small bucks, but shot the little one anyways. She promised not to do it ever again, but just got frustrated and a little trigger happy since she only got to technically hunt once this year. I told her she would be punished and Ill be spanking her accordingly.


Here she is...proud as punch...her first double.











Monday

I hunted this morning with nothing to show, deer movement was very little. As I went around the property setting up for tomorrow's hunt and doing some end of the season stuff I chatted off and on with my hunting partner/land owner Shane. He had a feeling in his gut that the deer I shot at had been hit and explained to me how and where I should go to look again.


I reluctantly obliged him and headed back over there. I had little faith the deer had been hit. I made several sweeps with no luck. After running off several deer and stinkin the place up really good I gave up and headed out and back to my truck. (at this point God intervened) I walked around a corner almost tripped over him. MY DEER, the one I shot AT!

I started draggin and got him out. Unfortunately the meat was no good, but I saved the head and cape for a mount. There was definitely some ground shrinkage, but hes still a pretty nice deer IMO.
































Upon further examination and talking with Shane, he and I came to the conclusion that the shot that hit him was the one fired while he was running. We took into account the angles the two shots were fired at and the entrance and exit holes.




I also got the rangefinder out of the truck and checked the shot out. 356 yards.



So, in summary that is 356 yards....RUNNING





Got one more hunt planned for tomorrow morning...wish me luck!!!

Nice way to end the season!
The most fanatical hunter in my family, my 68 y/o Mom, is about to go into her annual deep depression. She miraculously recovers about a week before turkey season. Hog hunting therapy keeps her out of the nut-house between seasons.

Congrats to both of you!!