In November 2005, I headed north with my sons Alex and Travis to my uncle’s cabin in the remote town of Barnes. I have been hunting in that area for the better part of 40 years. The cabin is filled with memories of my grandmother’s kitchen, veterans playing cribbage, visiting with the neighbors, and preparing for the early morning hunt. It was great that my grandmother woke us up in the morning for a buffet breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes and toast. Sadly those days are gone and now my children and I are left to fend for ourselves.
opening morning stag
After breakfast we packed up our lunch and grabbed our gear, which consisted of knives, guns, bright orange jackets, and a good pair of warm boots. Walking out the door in the middle of the night on a windy, cold, snowy November morning waiting for the opener gives me goosebumps! If you’re a deer hunter, you’ll understand that we’ve been waiting almost a year to get back into the woods.
As we walked to our deer stands, all I was thinking about was how many deer we were going to see and if this was the day one of us would hook up with the big, elusive whitetail. We made it to Travis’s booth and helped him position himself before continuing our half-mile journey. He was almost at the top of a hill, right on the edge of thousands of pine trees that were planted in the 1940s by CCCs. It overlooks a ravine that has always been a good natural track. To your right is an old railroad right-of-way and a small figure-eight lake that seems to get smaller every year. Travis loves this place!
Alex and I finished walking over to our double stand that was tied around a 12-14 foot cottonwood tree. It wasn’t the best tree for our stand, but there weren’t many options. A lot of the pines were harvested in the last ten years, so we had pretty low visibility. The sun began to rise above the trees as the red squirrels and birds began to wake up the rest of the forest.
As we explored the area, we saw a doe and fawn circling in the brush. Around 10:00 am, we had seen five deer move around us, but nothing too exciting. Then suddenly it happened! About 75 yards behind us was a small deer with eight-pointed antlers feeding. Alex saw the bull, but couldn’t shoot until he stopped on the first trail. With the wind blowing and the tree swaying, it looked like it would be a tough shot. He fired and then I fired and we both missed terribly. About five minutes later we heard a shot at Travis’s post. That sounded like good news!
An hour had passed and our minds were running wild with curiosity. We grabbed our gear and walked over to Travis’s stall where he was cleaning up after taking care of the deer he shot. He was the same eight that we missed before. We were ecstatic because although this wasn’t his first deer, he was Travis’s first good buck. We finished hunting but were unsuccessful that afternoon. We hiked back to the cabin to have some camaraderie with the rest of the boys.
Day two
The next day we decided to hike through some small wooded areas, focus on some stalking techniques, and take a few short trips to our standers. We put some of our hunters in deer stands and the rest of the hunters walked through the woods hoping to get some deer out of their beds. There were a few shots in the distance, but they were so far away that we knew they weren’t coming from any member of our hunting party. As the afternoon wore on, one of my nephews was able to get a good shot and dropped a large doe right in his path. The day was drawing to a close, so we decided to drive through another small patch of forest filled with Scots pines and undergrowth. I told my son Alex to stand at the edge of the pines where it opened up to a little grassy clearing where he could probably get a good wide open shot. He argued with me and said that he was bored and tired of standing around, so I said, “You’re going to be mad, Alex, if I go in there and shoot that white-tailed monster!” He thought about it for a minute, he looked at me and reluctantly walked into the woods. He was standing behind a pile of dead trees that overlooked an opening with scattered aspens, Scots pines, and small patches of brush. The rest of us were a quarter of a mile away when we heard the gun go off. There were two shots! We continue walking through the forest until we find Alex smiling from ear to ear! He explained to us that the stallion came out of the woods, raised his gun, fired his first shot and missed. For some reason, the stallion turned and walked directly at Alex, giving him the rare opportunity for a second shot. That well-placed shot took down a beautiful 175 pound whitetail deer, 19 1/4 inside span! He learned a good lesson about being patient and sitting still. It was worth it!
Both my sons shot a dollar that year, but I was left with nothing. It was still one of my best trips!
For more hunting and fishing articles, visit myfishhunt.com
