During the second week of Georgia’s bow season, Barry Broadwater and I spent three days hunting a wildlife management area, while my wife Dana drove to Kentucky to visit her parents. She wound up seeing more deer – or at least deer parts – than we did!
Hurricane Ivan interfered with mine and Barry’s plans, and we weren’t able to hunt very much. I called Dana in the midst of the storm to let her know that we were wet, but alive. She happened to mention a 5-point shed antler that her father had discovered on his and her uncle’s farm. She was bringing the treasure home for me to see what had been found within 500 yards of where I normally hunt when I’m up there.
As soon as I laid eyes on the shed, I began making plans for my next trip to Livingston County, Ky.
A month later, I was there with my bow. I saw a couple of does the first day in the woods, and a few more in the two that followed. The only buck I saw was a small 3-pointer that lingered under my stand for a long time. I was tempted to take the “gimmee” shot, but I really wanted a mature buck. Though that trip was a bust, I couldn’t wait to return during the Thanksgiving holidays.
The Monday before Thanksgiving, Dana and I started packing for Kentucky. I knew that my in-laws’ farm was inside Zone 1, which meant that rifles would still be legal. But I packed my bow anyway – only to change my mind several hours later. Out came the bow and in went my rifle.
On Wednesday morning, I went back to the place I’d bowhunted in October. I was in my stand 45 minutes before daybreak. As soon as I settled in, it started raining. I was disappointed, but I stayed put. The rain clouds were gone by dawn.
At the conclusion of the morning hunt, I had seen only two young does and a spike. The afternoon was similarly uneventful.
On Thanksgiving morning, a trio of does passed within 20 yards of my stand. I kept an eye out for a buck on their backtrail, but they were not being followed. That afternoon, I moved my stand to one of my favorite places on the farm: a small stretch of hardwoods between bedding and feeding areas.
I didn’t see any deer that first evening, but I heard gunshots from the adjoining farm.
On Friday, Nov. 26, I was keenly aware that my hunt was drawing to a close. I came to grips with the fact that I might return home to Georgia with an empty cooler.
As I got into my truck long before sunrise, I noticed that it was unusually bright. That’s when I realized, for the first time, that a full moon was shining.
That gave me more hope. Contrary to what most hunters experience during the brightest moon phase, I’ve always seen a lot of deer activity in the mornings.
The day broke partly cloudy and windy. It was a brisk 36 degrees, and the wind was blowing in my face. Just after daylight, around 6:30, I spotted a doe coming across the pasture at about 150 yards, heading toward the bedding area. She was farther away from where the deer normally enter and exit the pasture.
The deer hesitated before stepping through a small gap and into the hardwoods.
Another doe streaked across the pasture at 8:30, and she wasn’t alone. Both she and her antlered suitor passed within 50 yards of my stand – before the doe went under a fence and disappeared in the woods. At that point, I stood and focused on the buck with tall tines, which had its nose to the ground. So preoccupied, it stumbled into the fence.
A tree between us gave me plenty of cover to raise my rifle and gain a steady rest. After shaking off the collision, the buck retreated back into the pasture and then turned around, as if to get a running start before jumping the fence.
It did, eventually taking the same path the doe had christened. I was watching the deer through my scope, hoping it would slow down and pass through a small clearing.
The buck slowed from an all-out run to a slow trot as it approached the opening 150 yards away from me. As soon as the deer was in the clear, I dropped it!
To monitor its progress (or lack thereof), I knelt in the stand and chambered another round. I knew that it was a very nice buck, but I had no idea how unusual and large the antlers were until later. When the buck began to rise, I fired a second time.
Only when I was sure that it was down for the count did I descend the tree – having totally forgotten the doe my buck had been chasing. She was standing a mere 65 yards from me. Able to legally tag her as well, I zeroed in and ended the incredible hunt with bonus venison.
I lost my voice when I reached the buck – probably because my jaws were lying on the ground beside it. When I went back to my truck to exchange gun for field-dressing gear, my father-in-law, James, and brother-in-law, Darrell, drove up. Together, we dressed both deer and loaded them.
On the way home, we decided to stop at Dwayne’s, the local store, to show off the deer. That’s when I found out that the buck had been spotted twice by others in recent weeks.
I drove the deer back to Georgia to be processed and caped. After dropping them off, I returned home and sent a couple of pictures that my wife and brother-in-law had taken to friends.
Barry, Johnny Gulledge and I left for another weeklong hunt the following Monday. During my absence, Shelby Taylor, another friend, forwarded my photographs to Buckmasters. On Dec. 8, I learned that my buck is a new Kentucky state record among Irregulars taken with a centerfire rifle.
Many folks have commented that I don't have a reason to hunt any longer.
Wrong.
I have hunted all my life, and never merely to harvest a trophy. Taking this one-of-a-kind buck simply capped off a season blessed with wildlife encounters. I’m already eagerly looking forward to my next stint in a deer stand!
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