Well our Kentucky whitetail season has finally come to a close. It was tough hunting from beginning to end for me this year. Seems on almost every sit something or someone just didn't want me to succeed. I won’t bore you will all the mishaps but here we go.
Our archery season begins in early September. The weeks before I always start out my year by scouting. This usually consists of sitting and watching soybean fields and determining the outlet paths the deer are using to get to the beans from their daily haunts. Once I find a deer I am interested in, evenings consist of sitting afar a couple nights a week wiping my brow of sweat and swatting skeeters (that's a KY word) until the hot Kentucky day comes to an end all to make sure the pattern is consistent.
About a week before the season arrives I will hang stands at these locations and wait for opening day. This year at one of these fields I spotted a very nice mature 8 pointer I had come to know and another buck that was traveling with him into the fields each evening. A tall very mature eight point I had three years of trail camera pictures of. He was running with a young but very impressive 6x6 buck that we decided to give a pass to just to see what he could eventually be. My scouting found me watching for this guy and his buddy evening after evening and they always seemed to show. This is the first year I have ever picked a certain deer to target. But I had a long past with him and he was at his prime, mean to other deer and ready for the taking. I really don’t recommend this as it is very hard on the ol’ ticker. He was at least five and a half years old and maybe a year older. He is very large bodied and ruled the roost wherever I saw him.
Many years a wrong way wind will keep me from hunting for days at these season opener spots on the bean field and this season was no different. Day one came and found me perched in my spot on the opposite hill watching for them that evening as I had done for weeks prior. Much to my surprise on this night neither of the bucks showed. Evening two came and I was anxious to see if they would come. No big 8 on evening two, but the big 6x6 showed and kept my interest in the spot. Finally on day three I got a good wind and climbed aboard for my first hunt of the year. I sat and waited for the oncoming deer I was hoping would show on schedule. Around deer30 I heard the sound of deer sliding down the far creek bank and I stood and readied myself. Doe after doe and a few small bucks walked under me when all the sudden at the right time I heard more deer dumping down the slope. The sliding leaf sound ended with splashing in the creek as it had all season and the first sighting of the big 6x6 standing and drinking just 50 yards away from me in the creek was a magnificent sight. The 6x6 casually walked right under me and entered the beans. Much to my surprise darkness fell again that evening with no sign of the big 8.
Day four and five found me watching from the opposite hill again and now even the 6x6 had gone MIA. Come to find out a few days later on a recon mission we had a bumper crop of acorns and they were on the ground everywhere. The deer had dispersed into the woods on their new food source. While I can usually adapt to this fact what caught me by surprise was this happened a month earlier than usual. I spent the next month and a half with no sign of the big 8 point. In the meantime I passed up several very worthy deer with the bow but did manage to shoot them with my camera I always pack along with me.
Our late October pre-rut finally rolled around and my first sighting of the big 8 came when he was walking across a field in a small creek bottom opening. I had a stand just inside the woods amongst several acorn trees deer were clearly using. He came across the field headed my way but when he got to the edge of the woods he stood for five minutes just looking around. He finally turned and un-alarmingly walked back the way he came for no particular reason. With our first personal meeting my hopes had been rejuvenated. Day after day went by but with no more sign of the Big 8. This deer had gotten old and smart and never seemed to have any pattern whatsoever I could figure out. I am still convinced that all the acorns were keeping them spread thin.
A week or so later during an evening hunt and with pre-rut in full swing I hear the leaves crunching with footprints. I stood up and grabbed my bow and all of the sudden see a coyote heading my way. He makes his way by out in front of me and stops to sniff the ground. THUNK the sound the Morrison loosing the sting makes and with a well placed arrow the yote bolts for his life. His pumping heart carried him to about 35 yards as he does a barrel roll at full speed. The site of the hit was 24 paces from the base of my tree and was one of the luckiest shots I’ve even made. As I approached the yote I could see the arrow had hit him perfectly through both lungs. This day was the definite bright spot of the season.
Topic: A Long Brutal Season (Read 1979 times)
