It’s a perfectly reasonable assumption, and many hunters would agree. A buck that hears a nearby twang of a bow string is going to crouch slightly, lowering its boiler room. Chris Eckenrode had seen that posture dozens of times and knew it meant, “aim low to compensate.” But no, the impressive buck standing broadside in the snow-dusted woods never ducked. All Chris’ arrow got was a thatch of belly hair.
“That was the first week of November, 2024,” says Chris. “I sat midmorning, and I watched that buck for 45 minutes while he came within 40 yards. Once I messed up my shot, he hightailed toward a neighbor’s property. I followed his tracks about 400 yards, then had to stop. I was pretty disgusted.”
The following summer, trail cameras revealed that the same buck, now in velvet, had put on a little growth in the form of five or six kickers.
Chris was delighted and relieved that his buck had returned to the scene of a scary experience. Pennsylvania’s bow season arrived, and an upsetting rumor started circulating through Indiana County’s hunting community.
“I heard that a neighbor shot a buck that everyone thought was my buck,” Chris says. “Their racks were really close, down to the same kicker on the P2s. People said I should accept that my buck was out of the running. Lots of people compared photos of my buck with the new buck and ninety percent of opinions were that it was the same buck.”
But Chris’ buck had one extra kicker, a 2-inch hook. That’s what kept his hopes up.
So were the racks similar? Yes. The same? Turns out, No.
On October. 30, Chris got a notification from one of his cameras at the lower stand. To Chris’ relief, there was his buck. Un-shot and alive.
He immediately phoned his boss and said, “Hi. I’ve got to go home right now. I won’t be able to come in tomorrow.”
He didn’t say why.
The 29-year-old truck driver from Hellwood, PA, got ready to bow hunt on his inlaws’ 50 acres on Halloween Day of 2025. The terrain is wooded and steep, almost vertical in some places. “It’s a workout getting to my uphill stand,” he says.
He had to choose between two stands, one uphill of the other by 200 yards. The evening before, he’d sat in the lower location, seen his buck, and grunted to no effect.
“I decided to go to my uphill stand, (a 20-foot hang-on in a cherry tree) because a camera showed more activity there, and I thought my buck was bedded up there in some pines at the top of the hill.”
The day was overcast and the wind was right.
“I was set up by 6 a.m., and I thought I’d see him between 10 and two. I am used to seeing mature buck movement at that time. About daylight, I saw activity to my left. I thought my buck would come from there. I was looking through the woods and instead saw movement to my right. That buck was 30 yards broadside. I saw him through a shooting lane.”
(When Chris found an active scrape, he placed a camera by it and cut a shooting lane out to 30 yards leading to the scrape.)
The buck kept walking until it was at Chris’ 12 o’clock.
“He was walking away from me and jumped two strands of barbed wire at 45 yards. I grunted twice. He stopped walking and stared a hole right through me. He looked over his left shoulder back at me. Then he continued walking,” Chris says.
“I had to make him stop!”
One more good snort-wheeze, and the deer instantly turned around with its whole body. It trotted back toward and around a downed tree, ending up on Chris’ left.
“He was at 25 yards, and I had an opening. I had to shoot because he was about to walk downwind of me. I drew back when he got behind the downed tree. I shot him at 8:05 a.m.”
The buck ran downhill for 60 yards and piled up. Chris’ left shoulder shot went through both lungs and the heart for an immediate kill.
“I had the shakes for a while. When my hands calmed down, I called my wife. I said, “He’s down!”
She said, “Don’t fall out of the tree. I’ll call you back. I’m in the shower.”
Buckmasters scorer Matt Byerly taped the Eckenrode buck in November 2025, placing it in the Regular category.
.png)