Rack Magazine

Two years after his arrow shaved hairs off an impressive whitetail’s belly, this Kentuckian tasted déjà vu.

Dave Morgan might dine regularly on venison, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t heard the scrape of a fork across an empty plate or the soft non-thud of an arrow hitting nothing but ground.

The last time the Kentuckian heard failure was about three years ago.

It was a great morning for deer hunting, he recalls. A cold front had moved across Ohio overnight, promising deer movement. Dave was aloft in his treestand, watching a trail that ran through a saddle.

Around 9:00, Dave’s saw a doe slipping silently through the hardwoods. Suddenly, a huge buck burst out of a nearby thicket and stood grunting, looking at the doe.

The buck was 25 yards – broadside – behind Dave, and it looked as if it would start chasing the doe any second. Dave had to stretch out, twist and shoot quickly from an awkward position before the buck took off toward her.

The bowhunter watched helplessly as his arrow flew low, shaving a few white hairs off the big deer’s belly. Unscathed, the huge animal bounded back into the thicket.

“I knew as soon as I shot that it was low, and I hadn’t wounded him,” Dave said, shaking his head.

He nicknamed the buck Slim Shady.

“In the first trail camera photographs we got of the buck, his rack and tines were tall and slim,” Dave explained. “That was the Slim part. The Shady came into play because we had lots of pictures of him, but nobody could ever see him; he was a shady and sly buck.”

The initial pictures showed the buck traveling with an older, more mature buck.

“But we could tell he had the potential to grow into something special,” Dave said.

Dave and several of his family members and friends chase giant whitetails each fall on the family-owned property in Pike County, Ohio. And success comes often. Dave was last featured in the February 2016 issue of Rack magazine with a nice archery buck taken there.

The Morgan family and friends have scouting for deer down to an art form, religiously documenting deer movements on their property through multiple trail cameras. They name every buck with trophy potential.

“The year after my encounter with Slim Shady, I put my brother-in-law, Jason Ford, in the same saddle where I’d missed the deer,” Dave said. “He actually saw the buck two or three times. But the deer was always running does about mid-level on a ridge, out of range for a shot.

“My good friend, Chad Peercy, also had him at about 40 yards, but chose not to take the shot.

“When the season opened in 2015, I had him patterned to a tee,” Dave said. “I had a two-week color coded bar graph of his movements based on trail cam photos. By opening of Ohio’s archery season, he had been at one of my stand sites during shooting hours on nine out of 14 days.

“I felt good about getting a shot at him,” he said.

A week before the season opened on Sept. 26, the game changed when some of the family clear-cut Slim Shady’s bedding area. Management of the farm takes precedent over hunting activities.

“On opening weekend of archery season, a friend, Tim Morrow, and I went up to hunt,” Dave said. “We ran trail cameras the day before we hunted. Slim was a no-show.

“I knew he had been pushed out of his bedding area, and it was going to take an all-out search to find him. That whole weekend, I just moved around on the ridges, watching and hoping to see him.

“After three days, we backed off to regroup and discuss things.

“I had been getting photos of another big deer since June, so I finally decided to hunt it on Monday at noon. About that time, I got a text telling me that particular buck was seen dead in the back of a truck.

“There was a good front coming in, but I couldn’t find Slim, and the other one was dead. Tim packed up and went home.

“I stayed around basically to clean up,” Dave continued. “I went up on a ridge to put out some corn, and it started pouring rain.

“Things were not looking good. I had Slim patterned all summer, but everything was falling to pieces. I went back home to Kentucky, intending to return as soon as the weather broke.

“By noon on Sunday of the second weekend, the rain had stopped, and the weather was perfect. I drove back up that afternoon. I knew right where I wanted to go because I had been thinking about it, and there was only one last logical place the big buck could have gone.

“He had been in there some that summer and had been bumped out of every other place,” Dave said.

“By 2:30, I had climbed a red oak about 30 feet up and was set. The temperature was in the low 70s with a slight, but constant breeze. My stand was on a knoll surrounded by oaks.

“As soon as I got settled and ready to hunt, deer started to move.

“There was a mineral lick and some corn about 30 yards from me. The movement of deer was constant as the afternoon wore on.

“About 5:15, a 130-class buck came in. It was a nice deer, but I was texting, and I just took a photo of it and didn’t even think about shooting it. I knew what I had gone up there to hunt.

“The little buck stayed around for a while, and then it eased on up the ridge about 5:30. As soon as it left, a doe and two yearlings appeared. They were comfortable. Suddenly, I heard a deer crashing through the woods, coming my way, so I stood.

“I had my rangefinder in one hand and my bow in the other.

“The deer was about 25 yards out, and all I could see was antlers.

“I was trying to see if the second point on the right was split, so I could see if it was Slim, but I couldn’t tell. All I could tell was the rack was good enough, that this deer was going to get shot if I had the opportunity.

“I put down my rangefinder, put my release on the string, leaned against the tree and tried to steady my breathing. I watched the buck move toward the doe.

“The two yearlings were picking at the corn. As the buck passed me, I drew and anchored. When he lowered his head, he turned away, and I had no shot. I let the bow down and waited for him to turn, knowing the wind was in my favor. By that time, I knew it was Slim.

“The buck reached the mineral about 30 yards away and started pawing at it. The yearlings moved away, and he quartered. I drew, anchored, put the pin where I wanted the arrow to go and let it fly.

“He mule-kicked, ran about 10 or 15 feet, stopped and stood there. He was still quartering away, just standing there. I nocked an arrow and waited. He started staggering, wobbling, went about 10 yards, lay down, and that was it,” Dave said.

Mission accomplished.

This article was published in the April 2017 edition of Rack Magazine. Subscribe today to have Rack Magazine delivered to your home.

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