Rack Magazine

Rumors of this buck’s demise by vehicle were greatly exaggerated.

After booking my first hunt with Sunfish Valley Whitetails in 2013, I have returned every year to enjoy the hospitality, great food and lodging. Theirs is a family-run business in Latham, Ohio, and the guides work diligently to ensure the best possible hunting experience.

This fair-chase outfitting facility is situated on 15,000 privately owned acres.

Prior to my 2016 trip, I reviewed trail camera photographs and spoke to my guide, Anthony, almost daily. I took hundreds of target shots and purchased an Ozonics unit and several deer lures, among other things. I was as prepared as I could be.

As I watched bucks grow over the summer, I knew I’d have an opportunity to harvest a quality deer and have a special trip.

While I was preparing for prime rut week in Ohio, my wife and I were also hunting our farm in Pennsylvania almost every evening and weekend. She harvested a stud.

I had a good feeling about the upcoming Ohio trip, not only for me, but also for the 10 guys in my group.

When we finally arrived in Ohio on a Sunday, we were concerned about the 80-degree weather. But Anthony continually assured us we would have a good week, despite the temperature.

Monday evening, one of our guys, Jacob Miller, harvested a 10-pointer, which encouraged the rest of us. Several deer were seen the following day, but no shots were taken.

On Wednesday morning, Anthony and Jacob checked trail cams and retrieved several images of shooters, including a drop-tined buck we’d heard had been hit on a nearby highway.

That photo was a game changer for all the hunters in camp. Everyone wanted that buck.

While afield that day, Anthony and Jacob took the time to hang another stand at the edge of a field. I sat in it that evening and saw a few deer. After sunset, deer began streaming from the woods to feed. I didn’t want them to know my location, so Jacob drove through the field to create a diversion.

I woke at 2:30 a.m. Thursday, Nov. 3, ready to make something happen.

Anthony wanted me to go back to the same stand, but I was reluctant. I didn’t want to bump deer out of the field. In order to minimize the disturbance, Jacob dropped me off two hours before sunrise, and I made my way across the cut cornfield to the stand.

As I sat there in the dark, I saw two shooting stars across the horizon and thought they might be good omens.

As dawn began breaking, I heard something walking in the leaves behind me, making its way to the field. I couldn’t tell what the deer was while it was in the woods, but once it got into the field, I looked through my binoculars and realized it was the drop-tined buck.

I didn’t want to concentrate on the antlers, so I put down my binoculars and grabbed my crossbow while the deer fed across the field. When it was at a ranged 35 yards, I pulled my crossbow’s trigger. I didn’t know where the arrow hit because my nock didn’t glow like it should’ve.

I immediately called my wife, then Anthony, to tell them what happened. I thought I was dreaming!

When Anthony joined me at the stand, we decided to give the deer more time before we started tracking it. We returned around 11:00.

A decent blood trail led us to a bed about 500 yards distant. After that, we decided to stop searching. Anthony, another guide (Cody), Jacob and I resumed that evening. We followed the trail for a few hundred yards before it started raining.

After talking to the owner, Matt Brewster, we decided to get the tracking dog in hopes of finding the deer before dark. Anthony took the dog and followed the blood as the rest of us stayed back so as not to interfere.

As he and the dog continued ahead through the timber, Anthony eventually yelled. We all thought he’d found the deer, so we took off running through the woods to join him.

To our dismay, however, he hadn’t yelled because he’d found the buck. He’d jumped it.

Crushed, we left with plans to return after breakfast the following morning. Mine was a sleepless night.

Friday morning, we took our time returning to the last place Anthony had seen the deer. We set the dog on the blood, while Jacob made his way through a block of timber. The dog took us down to a 3-acre CRP field.

Everyone was losing hope as I made my way through the head-high grass. I eventually stumbled upon a bed that had a pool of blood in it. Knowing we were at least on the right track, we mounted a grid-search.

Soon, I caught a glimpse of rack. The buck was lying down, looking at me. I told everyone to stop moving, and then we devised a plan.

Jacob snuck around to a road through the field so he could come up on the deer from the rear. Every time Jacob moved, drawing the deer’s attention, I inched forward. I was trying to get close enough to get a clear shot.

When I was within 15 yards, I aimed behind the deer’s shoulder and fired a bolt. The buck leapt up and ran 50 yards before finally expiring.

We all spent a few minutes high-fiving, hugging and cheering.

The initial shot was a pass-through, but farther back than expected.

Anthony and I went back to the truck to unload the ATV, while Jacob and Cody dragged the buck to another field that was accessible. I called my wife and all my friends as I was walking to the truck.

Everyone was amazed at how big the buck was. Photographs don’t do it justice.

It has been my lifelong dream to harvest a 200-inch whitetail. I’m thrilled I was able to do it with some of my closest friends. Next to my daughter being born, this was one of the greatest moments of my life.

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

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