Its backstraps tonight, boys! (Pictures)Story added.
#1
Its backstraps tonight, boys! (Pictures)Story added.
Oh man, what a day.
Not only did I fill my tag, so did my dad!
I put my tag on a nice 4x2 (cull buck). He met my self-imposed standard of having at least four points on one side (Washington's minimum is three), so I'm more than happy. Did I mention its my first buck?
My dad tagged a 4x4.
Sorry about the pictures of my deer being... not amazing, but by the time we got to my buck, he had frozen pretty much solid. We couldn't do much about moving him around into a better position.
Man oh man, whaaaat a day!
They say one sign of insanity is talking to yourself, but what if the dialogue is completely internal? I’m sure if anyone had heard the conversation I had going on with myself this morning, they would have thought I was nuts. I’ll try and repeat it here as best as I can remember.
“Man, its cold. Maybe I should get down and move around a bit, warm up.”
“The cold will make the deer move.”
“Yeah, but I’m freezing.”
“So are the deer, they’ll move through about 10 minutes after you get down.”
“Probably right. Fine, I’ll stay another half hour.”
I looked at the digital clock on my cell phone. 7:32.
Thirty bone chilling minutes later and the dialogue picks up again;
“Been about a half hour, better get down.”
“Wait, was that a deer?”
“Oh crap, it is!”
“Just a doe, calm down.”
“Calm down? I can’t calm down, that’s the first deer this morning!”
“Sure, sure, but we’re hunting bucks here, not does.”
She moved through, slowly as she possibly could. As her rear faded from view, I hunkered down further into my layers of clothing, only to sit back up again as I spotted another deer.
“Here comes another one!”
“Oh man, better get ready.”
“Wait, just another doe.”
As soon as her behind disappeared into the trees, I hear grunting.
“Was that grunting?”
“Could have been, better grab the call and talk back.”
I grunted a couple times, and wouldn’t you know it, here comes a little 1x2. He moseyed around my stand for about 20 minutes, kicking up the snow, munching on the grass beneath it. All of a sudden his head jerks up and he snaps to attention, looking behind my stand. Slowly as I can, I turn around and look behind me, and as I do, I start talking to myself. Again.
“Antlers.”
“Buck.”
“Shooter?”
“Maybe, keep watching.”
He lowers his head and starts my way, grunting all the while. As he passes below me, I notice how weird his rack is. He’s got four points on one side and only two on the other.
“Weird buck.”
“I should shoot him.”
“He’s not a monster.”
“I’m not a trophy hunter.”
“You’d rather shoot a big buck.”
“He’s got four points on one side; I’d be more than happy with him. Besides, that’s bad genetics.”
“True, cull deer?”
“Cull deer.”
“Gonna take him?”
“Gonna take him.”
As his head goes behind some brush 20 yards out, I draw. He steps behind the brush and I hold. And hold. And hold.
Finally he steps out and stops, slightly quartering away. I release and know the shot is good. 45 minutes or so later I get down and follow the blood he’s left straight to him.
This day couldn’t have been any better. Not only did I tag my first buck, but my dad tagged his first deer in two years. Neither are monsters, but we’re both pleased. We’ve got meat in the freezer and antlers for the wall.
Not only did I fill my tag, so did my dad!
I put my tag on a nice 4x2 (cull buck). He met my self-imposed standard of having at least four points on one side (Washington's minimum is three), so I'm more than happy. Did I mention its my first buck?
My dad tagged a 4x4.
Sorry about the pictures of my deer being... not amazing, but by the time we got to my buck, he had frozen pretty much solid. We couldn't do much about moving him around into a better position.
Man oh man, whaaaat a day!
They say one sign of insanity is talking to yourself, but what if the dialogue is completely internal? I’m sure if anyone had heard the conversation I had going on with myself this morning, they would have thought I was nuts. I’ll try and repeat it here as best as I can remember.
“Man, its cold. Maybe I should get down and move around a bit, warm up.”
“The cold will make the deer move.”
“Yeah, but I’m freezing.”
“So are the deer, they’ll move through about 10 minutes after you get down.”
“Probably right. Fine, I’ll stay another half hour.”
I looked at the digital clock on my cell phone. 7:32.
Thirty bone chilling minutes later and the dialogue picks up again;
“Been about a half hour, better get down.”
“Wait, was that a deer?”
“Oh crap, it is!”
“Just a doe, calm down.”
“Calm down? I can’t calm down, that’s the first deer this morning!”
“Sure, sure, but we’re hunting bucks here, not does.”
She moved through, slowly as she possibly could. As her rear faded from view, I hunkered down further into my layers of clothing, only to sit back up again as I spotted another deer.
“Here comes another one!”
“Oh man, better get ready.”
“Wait, just another doe.”
As soon as her behind disappeared into the trees, I hear grunting.
“Was that grunting?”
“Could have been, better grab the call and talk back.”
I grunted a couple times, and wouldn’t you know it, here comes a little 1x2. He moseyed around my stand for about 20 minutes, kicking up the snow, munching on the grass beneath it. All of a sudden his head jerks up and he snaps to attention, looking behind my stand. Slowly as I can, I turn around and look behind me, and as I do, I start talking to myself. Again.
“Antlers.”
“Buck.”
“Shooter?”
“Maybe, keep watching.”
He lowers his head and starts my way, grunting all the while. As he passes below me, I notice how weird his rack is. He’s got four points on one side and only two on the other.
“Weird buck.”
“I should shoot him.”
“He’s not a monster.”
“I’m not a trophy hunter.”
“You’d rather shoot a big buck.”
“He’s got four points on one side; I’d be more than happy with him. Besides, that’s bad genetics.”
“True, cull deer?”
“Cull deer.”
“Gonna take him?”
“Gonna take him.”
As his head goes behind some brush 20 yards out, I draw. He steps behind the brush and I hold. And hold. And hold.
Finally he steps out and stops, slightly quartering away. I release and know the shot is good. 45 minutes or so later I get down and follow the blood he’s left straight to him.
This day couldn’t have been any better. Not only did I tag my first buck, but my dad tagged his first deer in two years. Neither are monsters, but we’re both pleased. We’ve got meat in the freezer and antlers for the wall.
#5
RE: Its backstraps tonight, boys! (Pictures)
Thanks for the congratulations everyone!
Greg, I bet you can guess what I plan on buying him for Christmas this year. He said when I bought mine that he wished he would be able to afford to pick some up himself, well, little does he know...
Greg, I bet you can guess what I plan on buying him for Christmas this year. He said when I bought mine that he wished he would be able to afford to pick some up himself, well, little does he know...