By Sgt. G. A. Sinclair
New spot yields surprise wallhanger for West Virginian.
Here is the story of my buck of a lifetime. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did LIVING IT! It would be nice to see this in the “Buckmasters” Magazine or at least in print someplace!!
I had hardly seen any deer the first four days of the buck firearms season in West Virginia. I was having a very discouraging week, so I decided to change things up and go to a different location. Thank God I did!
The day started off like any other. I got in the stand before daylight in a cold, 25 degrees and sat to await shooting light. I had heard about a monster buck in the area, but I never thought I’d get to see it. Still, it was nice knowing there was a big buck roaming the woods.
Shortly after 7 a.m., the action started. Three does came out of a little patch of woods into an opening I was watching. They grazed around for about 10 minutes before I decided to take one for the freezer.
All went according to plan, and I got down to field-dress the doe. Just as I was getting to where I had seen her fall, I heard something over the hill behind me. When I turned to look, I saw movement in the brush.
Soon the blur of motion materialized into a dandy buck. All I could think when he broke from the brush was, Wow!
I started to look for an opening where I might get a shot when I realized I had left my rifle by the treestand about 25 yards away.
I scooted back to get my rifle and then turned back toward the buck. By then, he had taken off. A few seconds later, a gunshot cracked from the opposite hill.
Well, at least someone got him! I thought.
Not entirely dejected, I turned to begin the chore of field-dressing the doe. Just as I was getting my knife out, I heard something in the brush. When I looked down the hill again, another buck came crashing through the brush into a small opening at about 50 yards. It was a giant!
Although at the time I did not know it was the monster buck, it was certainly worthy of my gun tag. When it stopped in the path, I took aim with my Browning .270 and shot.
The buck took off and then stopped approximately 25 yards from where I first shot. I knew I hit him, so why didn’t he fall?
The buck stood there for a few seconds, and then looked up at me as if to say “What was that?”
I took aim again, and this time, he dropped instantly.
It took some time to gather my composure, but I eventually walked down the steep bank to the deer. As I got closer, all I could see was HORNS!
When I finally got my hands around the bases of the rack, I realized it must be the monster buck everyone was talking about. I was floating on cloud nine.
I never dreamed I would see the monster buck, let alone be the one who got it. The only thing I could think of was my dad, who passed away 16 years before. He must have been in heaven smiling down on me that day, Friday, Nov. 24, 2017. I am still floating on that cloud, just as I believe my dad is, too.
I had the deer unofficially scored at 165 7/8. The numbers aren’t important, though. That deer is my buck of a lifetime.
– If you have a story for Smalltown Bucks, send a text or Word file with pictures to firstname.lastname@example.org. Please include Smalltown Bucks in the subject line.