Rack Magazine

Off the Beaten Path

Off the Beaten Path

By Dale Weddle

Why does a buck cross the road? To get shot, of course … which is why it might be best to hunt deep within the woods on one side or the other.

The large snowflakes fell silently to earth, brushing Ricky Roy in his deer stand tucked among the limbs of the skinny little tree he’d climbed. Twenty-five feet below, the ground was already white.

In the distant mixed stand of oak, poplar and cedars, Ricky could see at least a dozen deer shapes snuffling up acorns. He shifted a bit to get a better view of one through his scope.

There was no need to hurry.

He was hunting a piece of property that he and some friends own. Everybody knew where everybody else was, so there was no danger of another hunter wandering in and spooking the deer he was watching.

“Six guys threw in and bought the Todd County farm in 1985, just for deer hunting,” Ricky said. “The owner sweetened the pot by promising access to an additional 500 acres, so we ended up with around 800 in one of the best deer counties in the state.

“The other five owners were Kenny, Vince and Zack Wilson, Art Roy and Shane Russell. The place was all hardwood ridges except for one quarter-acre sized piece of flat ground, where we built a cabin,” he added.

The property is just a few miles from where one of the most famous Kentucky whitetails of all time was harvested in 1964 by C.W. Shelton. The massive Typical — later nicknamed Big Red — had an inside spread of more than 30 inches!

Shortly after the men acquired the farm, they all pledged to harvest only mature bucks. The rule was loosely enforced, but shooting a substandard one could result in good natured ribbing and wrist slapping.

In 1989, for instance, Kenny Wilson shot a buck that was below their self-imposed minimum antler size. When the group convened in 1990 to discuss the situation, they “punished” Kenny by restricting his hunting to a portion of the farm nobody else wanted to hunt.

The following year, when the state’s early muzzleloader season opened, Kenny-the-outcast went to the “sorry” piece of land to which he’d been banished and shot a 200-inch brute. The deer was the BTR state record in the blackpowder/irregular category until Troy Wilson killed his velvet giant in 2001.

Ever since, members of the gang think twice before dismissing less-than-desirable places.

By the time the 2011 season arrived, Kenny and Vince Wilson were not hunting the Todd County property much. They either didn’t have time or were hunting closer to home. That left the other four guys, Ricky, Art, Shane and Zack.

Pre-season scouting had revealed some huge rubs on their farm, so all four were excited. Their anticipation escalated when Art and Shane were driving away after an evening of early-season bowhunting and glimpsed a couple of bucks that made them gasp.

The two deer were silhouetted against the fading light, in a grass field on the adjoining farm they could hunt. The closer one wore an extremely wide rack.

“Generally, I don’t shoot anything if it isn’t 130 inches or better,” Ricky said. “Seeing those big ones helped alleviate any temptations to settle for less.

“In addition to the sighting, we started seeing some huge rubs, too,” he continued.

“While bowhunting the rainy weekend before gun season, I decided to check out an area everyone else had sort of abandoned. I found several smoking-hot scrapes and big rubs, one after another. Bunches of poplars and cedars were really worn out, but the area was mostly second-growth beeches.

Off the Beaten Path“Most places, you couldn’t see 40 yards,” he added.

The hunters had always had good luck during gun seasons hunting along a power line, which required a good scope and flat-shooting rifle for long pokes. Watching the cut was a lot easier than hiking back into the thick stuff, even with all the rutting sign.

Ricky chose the path of least resistance on the first morning of modern rifle season. He saw 10 or 12 bucks on the power line, but no shooters.

None of the men tagged a buck those first three days, and they skipped Tuesday altogether.

“On Wednesday, I hunted the power line again and saw three or four small bucks and a few does,” Ricky said. “The next morning, Art and I went to the thicket. He hunted along the bottom of a ridge where we’d seen quite a few deer in the past. I went to a bench on a hillside.

“It couldn’t have been a better morning,” he continued. “About 30 minutes before daylight, it started snowing these huge flakes. It was really quiet. The leaves were dry, and I could hear deer that I couldn’t see. When I did, they were brown spots weaving through the trees. Mine was this little skinny tree, the only climbable one in the vicinity.

“About 8:00, deer came in from every direction. I didn’t know it at the time, but Art, hunting down below me, wasn’t seeing a thing,” Ricky continued.

“I eventually spotted a promising buck about 100 yards away. When I got the scope on it, I saw five points on one side of its rack. If the other matched up, it had to be a pretty good 10-pointer.

“I had to hunker down a little bit, but as soon as I moved the scope to the deer’s vitals, I squeezed the .30-06’s trigger,” he said.

The buck disappeared after the boom, but, strangely, the other deer in the area resumed converting acorns to cud. Content not to disturb them, Ricky just settled back to wait.

Pretty soon, Art’s voice spilled out the two-way radio.

“What did you shoot?” he asked.

“The side I could see was pretty good, but let’s wait awhile,” Ricky told him.

Thirty minutes later, Art radioed again.

“How much longer can you stand it?” he asked.

“I’m afraid I didn’t hit it,” Ricky admitted, adding that he’d start looking in another 15 minutes.

When Art arrived, they began scouring the hill for signs of a hit. The first attempt yielded nothing. But when Ricky went back to his tree to get a second bearing, he realized they’d been looking in the wrong place.

The tracking was easy once they found blood.

After they’d covered about 300 yards, they jumped the buck, but Ricky managed to shoot it again before it got very far.

Hunter: Ricky Roy
BTR Score: 184
Centerfire Rifle
Typical

– Photos Courtesy of Ricky Roy

This article was published in the July 2014 edition of Rack Magazine. Subscribe today to have Rack Magazine delivered to your home.

Read Recent RACK Articles:

Eh, Y’all Check This Out! From Alabama to British Columbia is a long way to go to hug someone who doesn’t want to be hugged.

Listen to the Locals: The man told them all the big deer were shot during rainy-nasty weather . . .

Four Shots, One Buck and a Very Dead Phone: Typically speaking, Jeff Sims’ Franklin County, Ind., buck is but an average mature 5x5. Add the nine irregular points worth nearly 40 inches, however, and average becomes world-class.

Copyright 2024 by Buckmasters, Ltd.

Copyright 2020 by Buckmasters, Ltd