I guess it's time to tell the story even though I'll upset the guy not liking us talking about ourselves. We went into this season feeling very optimistic, having run trail cameras all spring and summer and through October during my hanging rope project. I got photos of multiple great bucks ripen to "come of age." We like to actually get into the woods, unlike most of today's modern bowhunters who often restrict their hunts to food plot edges. Everything was going as planned until right around Halloween, when the acorn crop depleted. Several neighboring farms still have standing corn and beans. Many of the deer, especially the does, moved to the buffets. We were seeing less than half of normal deer numbers with a very high percentage of immature bucks, very few does, compounded by warm temps, high winds, east winds, etc. On November 9th, I chose to sit a stand we call "Side Saddle." I rattled in two immature bucks but both came in from behind me, not the direction I expected. The wind was not as predicted so about 9am I climbed down to check the wind at another stand we call "Crossfire." Not good there either, so I moved over the ridge to a stand we call "Ashes." That was good to go. About 9:30 I was settled in and rattled the antlers. A one antlered forkhorn came running in. I filmed him walk past. Ten minutes later, I heard what I like to hear in November, the chop/chop of running deer with a tending grunt. A doe came past followed by a nice heavy 5x5 buck. They passed broadside at 20 yards but the buck never stopped to offer a shot. They finally stopped at 30 yards back in some brush. I watched the buck mount the doe once, then a minute later, he bred her a second time. Obviously these whitetail bucks "heal up" after sex a whole lot quicker than I do! I was in the middle of trying to decide whether to name this doe "Juicy Lucy" or "Sweaty Betty" when she went into the "honeymoon pose" with her back arched, doing whatever they do to move the love juices from the "play pen" up into the "baby carriage." She then walked down the ridge to bed down 15 yards crosswind from me while the big guy stood guard back in the brush for 8 or 10 minutes. About then, I saw the forkie arrive back on the scene. Suddenly the big buck decided to leave. I guess he was done with her and started up the ridge. I wheezed. When I did, the doe jumped up, the forkie charged in and she actually allowed the teenager to mount her when the big guy had second thoughts about the deal and came back to intervene. When he cleared the brush at 15 yards, I shot. I saw blood instantly and knew he was in deep trouble. Everyone in the party departed in three different directions. I sat back down to soak in the moment, planning on waiting an hour or so before taking the trail. This is what I live for. About 20 minutes later, I heard more running deer. It was the same doe followed by the forkie and a new 5x4 they had picked up along the way. The 5x4 ran off the forkie, then mounted the doe right in front of my stand. I had the camcorder going by then. A minute later, they came right under my stand and he mounted her again. That made five times she had been bred by three different bucks! We need more slut does like her! They moved up the ridge, she bedded again and the 5x4 stood guard duty. By then, I needed to climb down so I dropped my rattling antlers and lowered my bow. They both moved off. I had a good blood trail that lead right to my buck. He is a nice heavy ten point, probably 5 1/2 years old according to his teeth. I found it interesting that I had no trail camera photos of him, meaning he was either camera shy or just passing through the area. I shot him with my old 55# 58" Morrison Dakota that Bob built me in 2000. I used some sort of three blade broadhead named after my daddy. Another great memory. I am blessed.
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