Cody Glasgow was 18 when he shot the largest (semi-irregular) buck ever to come out of Lawrence County, Alabama, one of five nice bucks he’s hauled out of his beloved Bankhead National Forest over the years.
“I couldn’t wait to get my driver’s license, so I could hunt there,” he said of the picturesque 181,230-acre forest.
While the 34-year-old aerospace welder has private land to hunt, he and several friends still spend a lot of time on the forest. Back in 2009, he frequently — about 90 % of the time — hunted with two or three other guys. They had four really good spots, and they’d park, follow a horse trail together and drop off along the way.
On Dec. 5, however, Cody was by himself. He hiked for about 2 miles to where several ridges converge at a creek.
He chose to sit atop a pine-studded knoll in a sea of oaks, a vantage point offering a 100-yard view of one of the hollows. He’d seen a lot of does there, and buck sign was plentiful along the nearby transition areas.
“It had snowed the night before, and was still spitting snow when I got out there,” he said. “The temperature was in the 20s that night, but it had risen to about freezing by sunup. The snow would turn to sleet, then back to snow, then sleet again.
“I love hunting in the snow. You can see deer forever, from far away,” he added.
Because he knew how far a hike he faced, Cody didn’t lug a stand. Instead, he planned to hunt from the ground. The tight group of pines he chose were about 6 to 8 inches in diameter, and he thought they’d help break up his silhouette.
“When hunting the national forest, you don’t really have a solid plan. You just go and hope for the best,” he said. “You might hunt there 10 times and never even see a deer, but the 11th trip might be the one when you win the lottery.
“A lot of people get discouraged. They give up before that 11th time,” he added.
At daybreak, he spotted a doe exit one of the adjacent hollows, drink from the creek, and then continue up another low area. Squirrels and birds were very active that morning, at least until 8:00, when things grew eerily quiet.
About 9:15, he heard something and saw “tight-horned” antlers rise above the creek bed.
“I still can’t figure out how that buck got so close to me without my seeing or hearing it until it was only 23 yards away,” he said.
As soon as the whole deer was visible, he shot it.
A few minutes later, Cody was standing over and admiring the deer. He counted the rack’s points three times, each time arriving at a different number.
“I was over the moon,” he said.
When he thought about the daunting task of dragging the buck for 2 miles, he realized he’d need help. Since there was no cell phone service that deep into the forest, however, he’d have to return to where he’d parked.
“I was so excited that I ran all the way back to the truck,” he said. “I called daddy first, and then I called a buddy, who was already on the road with some other friends.”
The full crew helped.
A crowd was waiting when they reached the parking area. Everyone in his friend’s entourage had called others to share the news, and everyone wanted to to the giant.
The Bankhead, equally loved and scorned by those hunters venturing into it, has long yielded enormous deer. Within it lies the Black Warrior Wildlife Management Area. Cody and his friends rarely hunt the WMA portion because the hunts are limited to certain days, whereas the forest offers every-day-of-the-week access.
“Plus, if you happen to get on a buck on the WMA, you have to walk away from it until the next hunt,” he said. “You can’t stick with it.”
Sixteen years after Cody hung his personal best on his wall, Michael Perry measured the 16-pointer for Buckmasters. The rack tallied 180 5/8 inches, No. 1 among rifle-harvested Semi-irregulars recorded from Lawrence County and No. 18 for the state.