Buckmasters Magazine

Never shoot a buck on the first day of a Kansas bowhunt.

This story began 19 years ago when John Bowser packed up his bowhunting gear and drove to Kansas in search of giant bucks. With no outfitter, no topo maps or GPS coordinates, John must have looked pretty lost as he sat in a small diner after a fruitless day spent looking for a place to hunt.

The conversation most likely started with a simple, “You havin’ any luck?” Whatever the words, it wasn’t long before a Kansas farmer offered up part of his farm and a lifelong friendship was formed.

Fast forward to 2015 when John’s son Jeremy and his friend Greg Parker were making the drive to that same Kansas farm.

“We had driven all night and most of the second day before arriving at our motel,” Greg said. “We were going to lounge around that afternoon, but after a few minutes of boredom, we changed clothes and headed for the farm.”

It was warm for November 6, close to 70 degrees, but any hunt beats sitting around in a hotel room, especially if you’re in Kansas.

“It was 2 p.m. when Jeremy dropped me off at my walking point, and he told me to shoot a big one,” Greg said. “I told him that I never shoot a buck on the first day.”

Greg’s stand was located in a corner of what had been a 20-acre pasture. It had thick woods to one side, brush on another and a sizeable pond near the another corner about 70 yards away. The pond was one of the few water sources in the area, the primary reason Greg had chosen that location.

“I remember thinking no self-respecting deer would be out at that hour, let alone in those high temperatures,” Greg said. “I glanced at my watch at 3:15, and when I looked up I saw a monster buck trotting across the field toward the pond.”

Too distant for an archery shot, the buck sauntered across the open field like it didn’t have a care in the world. Greg had a video camera strapped to the tree, so he turned it on to have evidence to show Jeremy when they got back to the hotel that evening. The buck went right to the pound, drank and then milled around for 10 minutes.

“I decided to try to call him in if he started to leave the area,” Greg said. “When he turned toward the shelter of the woods, I grunted twice. He stopped and looked my way, and then continued toward the woods.”

Greg grunted again, and although the giant buck looked up, it stubbornly refused to change course. When it was almost out of sight, the hunter tried a desperation snort-wheeze.

Like it was operating on pure instinct, the buck immediately stopped, turned and took two steps toward Greg’s stand. Then, as if realizing what it was doing, the deer put on the brakes and just stared toward Greg. Finally it casually turned back on its original course and disappeared.

“At that point, I thought I had blown it,” Greg said. “I figured that big old buck was smarter than me and knew something was up.”

Dejected but with his heart still pounding, Greg texted Jeremy to let him know about the encounter.

“I figured that was my excitement for the evening,” he said. “I was so deflated I almost got down out of the tree.”

About an hour and a half later, Greg discovered why the buck had been so stubborn when a big doe popped out of the brush with the buck just 20 yards behind. It was trailing the doe and wasn’t going to leave her to fight some unseen rival.

The doe headed for the pond, and her suitor kept pace with her every move. Greg knew she was going to determine how his evening would go from there.

Both deer took a drink from the pond before the doe picked her head up and began walking a fence line right toward the hunter.

“My heart started to pound, and the blood was racing in my ears,” he said. “It was the worst case of buck fever I’ve ever had.”

Greg aimed his video camera again and turned on the GoPro camera that was mounted on his hat.

The doe kept coming until she was right under Greg’s tree. The buck, meanwhile, stopped to freshen some scrapes and rub the overhanging branches.

“He finally stepped away from the licking branches and took three steps into the open where I stopped him with a soft grunt,” Greg said. “It was a 9-yard shot, and as soon as I re-leased the arrow I knew it was a good hit. He ran across the field and up to the fence. When he tried to jump the fence, his legs gave out and he collapsed.”

The first person he called was his wife, Jessica. Then he called Jeremy to tell him he had made an exception to his rule of never shooting a buck on the first day.

The icing on the cake was when Jeremy took a great buck later in the season.

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