Well, after a 2012 season filled with torment and complete frustration the Angry Squaw entered the 2013 deer season with two new eyes and a commitment to tag a nice mature buck. Archery season was filled with nice bucks just outside of her comfort zone and as rifle season approached she felt a little concerned. The installation of a nice new and bright Leupold VX-III on her favorite little Bob had used up her supply of Hornady ammo and no replacement ammo was available - Anywhere!. While she prepared herself to use my 270 WSM, of which she shoots well, I set out on a mission to find some powder and bullets to get her Bob back in business. Wasn't easy, but thanks to the internet and UPS we had all the components to work up a load the day before the opener. As luck fell on our side the first load performed better than the factory stuff With no time to set the BCD we sighted for zero at 250 yards and she was filled with confidence and hope once again. She was reunited with her trusty friend "The Bob" and ready for business!
After an opening morning of expectation we left our first choice of hunting spots. It had become a pumpkin patch and road sloth breeding ground over night
We knew we would have to compete for ground, but this was unbelievable! So off to higher ground and fewer deer. Our experience with the new spot was that while it held few deer it also held almost zero deer hunters and the buck ratio was good. And it holds some BIG grand-daddy bucks if you are lucky enough to find one during daylight. Week one we saw eleven does and not a single buck. Week two we saw not one single deer period. I tried to keep spirits high by reminding her
and I that we see a buck for about every twelve does...so we should be finding ourselves on
"the right side of half a boy" soon!
Thank goodness for the rut!! We had been noticing the pre-rut rubs increasing in numbers and knew it was only moments before these high bucks started to looking for does into the daylight hours. Arriving in our area at first light it just had a sense of being that perfect day. Frost on the ground, a five point bull and his herd fed in the open at the first place we glassed, and the air had that crisp snap of winter. As the sun began to rise higher I knew it was time to glass the open patches in the Christmas trees so we pointed the truck north to descend in elevation and glass those warming south facing hill sides. The fog came and went at these lower
(2,600') elevations, but the sun was working hard to bust holes in the cover.
At 10:30 we get the first good break in the fog and I noticed a large spot in the trees with different texture. If it was a deer it was a big one! As the binoculars focused clear the single word "BUCK!!" escaped from my mouth without warning. Lorraine's body language immediately changed from
"What a glorious day to be in the woods" to
"Full native hunting warrior". When I told her, "
He's a Good One!" I could feel the desperation in her voice when she responded,
"WHERE!!!"I lined her up and she immediately found the buck in the scope. As I got the binos on him I barely got the words "258 yards" out of my mouth when BOOOOM. He took one enormous leap forward landing with a solid face plant in the dirt. He gets up as I hear the little Bob's action slamming back then forward. Before she could get back on him again he stumbles over the ridge about 18 yards away. "I think you hit him hard", I say, but I didn't want to get her hopes too high even though I was sure I had seen his back end give out just as he was disappearing from view. With no hunters to be seen we decided to just stay cocked and locked for a while glassing for any movement coming out the bottom of the far draw.
The excitement and need to find blood is too great and she heads for spot of impact after only about 15 minutes. I stay back to give detailed direction if necessary. As she arrives at the spot there is no call to me on the radio as none was needed. I could tell from the transformation of her stance she had gone from
"seek and confirm" back to
"native blood hound". I quickly grabbed the small camera, some Baby Ruths', water and a knife and headed down to her. Seeing me coming she held up and waited for me. A return of favor as I had waited for her before the final approach of my archery buck earlier in the season. No more than five yards from where I thought I had seen his back end give way...
There He Was!!!
As we sat on a stump just looking at the marvelous beast I could hear and see an emotion taking over this often tough and angry little squaw. A year ago we thought she may never be able to see again let alone hunt. And here we sat five yards away from an absolutely fantastic blacktail buck, taken at a reasonable long range, on one of the more beautiful days one could spend in the hunting woods, and with her trusty little Bob whom she thought just weeks before would have to be left at home. It was a triumph I myself can not fully comprehend. But, I could tell there was something just a bit more special about this buck than her others. It was a sign that everything was going to be ok!
