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Author Topic: Bucks that forever haunt you  (Read 8757 times)

Offline Seabass

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #30 on: October 31, 2019, 02:10:21 PM »
It's been 5 years.....but it's still too soon.

Offline kellama2001

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #31 on: November 01, 2019, 08:25:28 AM »
Tagging to read through later, cool thread idea!
It must be a poor life that achieves freedom from fear.
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Offline mtn.goat

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #32 on: November 01, 2019, 10:40:14 AM »
Absolutely amazing and GREAT story!  Thank you for sharing.

I never actually fired on my haunt story.....

    My dad has never been much of a hunter, but was very strict with gun handling and ingraining that I be sure of my target(s) especially in regards to not shooting a doe.  It was late October my first year deer hunting. I was doing lawn work after school and the one of the jobs was raking and bagging leaves for a homeowner with several large maples. It happened to be close to a good hunting spot. I had asked my dad if we could go for an evening hunt and he agreed to get off work early which was extremely rare for him to do.

    The area we were going had rumors of a giant buck roaming the area. My best friends dad who was an avid hunter and worked swing shift had seen a buck crossing the county road in the dark and said he initially thought a steer was loose until he saw the ghost white face and giant rack.

   I am sure I was visibly excited as we pulled up to the parking area. Not only was this an opportunity to hunt, but in the discussion on the way my dad had mentioned we should split up to cover more portions of the areas large cut. This would be my first time carrying a rifle solo. As I gathered my gear I realized I had overlooked one piece of equipment in my hurry loading the truck before dad left for work that morning, I had rifle, orange, ammo, and tags. But had forgot binoculars. 

  To this day I'm not sure why my dad didn't insist I hunt with him. Perhaps he figured there was no chance of me "scoping" anyone with an open sighted 30-30, maybe because the binos were only for antler confirmation and he trusted me to not shoot if not sure. Maybe he simply didn't want to dampen the evening by disappointing me. Regardless, after walking to the first split in the road he reiterated his usual wisdom of " as soon as you don't respect that gun it will kill you" followed by "and make sure it has horns." and we went separate directions.

   I moved down the road slowly for few hundred yards. There was a large flat bench below me about 40 yards across ( i figured this all out a few years later) that dropped into a small creek drainage. On the other side of the creek drainage was a fairly steep hill for 40 yards or so before going into the timber. The timber was 80ish yards away. The cut was about 3 years old. As I snuck to the stump I was going to sit next to, I noticed a deer bedded down on the bench near the creek. The deer had noticed me as well and stood up, along with 4 friends. One of those friends sure looked like a forked horn buck but without my confirmation binos I held off shooting. The deer all disappeared into the creek draw and one by one emerged on the other side. Doe, doe, doe, the "maybe a buck", another doe, nothing for minute then another deer appeared. This one seemed to soak up all the real estate on the opposite side of the creek draw, his rack was unmistakable with 4 heavy points per side set atop a ghost white face, shiny black nose and thick neck.  There was no doubt this was a buck, he walked in front of the doe and she disappeared behind his giant body as he stiff legged a couple more steps and as she reappeared he stopped. I raised my rifle and sighted on his massive chest looking back a mere 70 yards away. But I couldn't squeeze the trigger. I lowered the gun and stared at the giant rack again. Then raised the gun again as the buck turned and looked seemingly right thru me. Still I couldn't squeeze the trigger.  On top of my weak knees and rubber elbows were dads words ringing in my head "make sure it has horns". Somehow the loop between brain and finger wouldn't close and let me squeeze the trigger without raising a pair of binoculars to "make sure". The buck took several more slow steps along with the other deer and melted slowly into the timber, vine maple, and ferns. After the shaking stopped and I calmed down, I berated myself for why I hadn't shot. I KNEW that buck had antlers.

   Although a short distance, it was a long walk back to meet dad. After relaying the story he first questioned me why I didn't shoot, but after further discussion he assured me I had done the right thing in not shooting.


    I did manage to kill a buck that first year a fork horn and that first buck took the sting away. But the haunting remained strong as I wondered after that day if I had seen that buck or simply wished him into being. As I continued my hunters journey I also became very aware how rare sightings on truly big  bucks can be and the haunting became even worse. To this day I might be wondering if I truly saw a ghost buck, if not for an event a few years later.

   I was working for a homeowner that lived not far from this particular area. The old man had dozens of nice blacktail racks hanging from rafters and draped over wood piles, but while walking past a large living room window i noticed one shoulder mount on the wall above the recliner. He was everything I remembered. The four thick long points per side along with eyeguards dark and heavy   set atop the brilliant white face with 2 bright patches on the neck. The old man smiled when I blurted out " where did you kill that monster" and relayed my story along with exact location. He was as excited to tell the tale as I was to hear it. As near as we could figure he had harvested the buck the same year and within a couple days in the same timber I saw him disappear into. He had been watching the buck for a several years and had multiple sheds from him, at a time when that wasn't a "thing"  and before trailcams became the norm. He knew the bucks movements, haunts, trails, beds and had nearly given up ever connecting due to declining health and because in three years he had not seen the buck in daylight. He stated he didn't want the buck entered, but his son had insisted on scoring it and it was high 140s.

   My dad still chuckles at the story and chalks it up to buck fever. He gets a kick out of it every time he tells it, and I swear he adds flavor about me coming back pale white and being sick for several days after.  The old man was a wealth of stories and intel that he shared with me and have led to the taking of some nice blacktails of my own.  I would be lying if I said the thought of that buck doesn't haunt me on occasion, a missed opportunity at a monster buck is so rare and even more so on lowland BT bucks. But I like to think that the Almighty Maker of big bucks saw fit to give an old man a gift, by making a dream he had spent years chasing come true.  And giving a young man an even better one by letting that dream live on.

 

 

Offline mtn.goat

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #33 on: November 01, 2019, 10:42:46 AM »

Awesome thread and Great story!  Any chance you’ve got a copy of a pic of that corker?

I,m sure we all have that one hunt, or that one buck or bull that you seen and never got a shot at or just couldn't close the deal, or maybe you did get a shot at and missed.What ever the issue, its an animal that haunts you and always will, for whatever reason, or it may not haunt you but its one you will never forget and you just had to tip your hat to it and move on.

It was the mid 1980,s for me in the Methow. I was out with a buddy and we were taking it easy one day, it was warm and sunny. We had been hiking into several areas every day for 5 days prior(6-8 mile round trips) and decided to kick back a little. The areas we had been going into were excellent areas but the weather and moon were not cooperating and we were seeing mostly does and tiny bucks. The kick back day was about a 2 mile hike in that was nice and easy and any deer killed would be all downhill to a main road, easy peasy although our plans were mostly to just spread out and nap in the sun :chuckle:. It was about 2 in the afternoon when we headed out and it was about 60 degrees with beautiful blue skies. We crested a small ridge about halfway there when across a huge draw out in the wide open something caught my eye, I knew it was a buck without even putting my binos on it, the buck was 480 yards away(my son and I rangefinded the spot about 8 years ago)and its antlers stuck out like a sore thumb. I remember telling my buddy "HOLY SMOKES, look at the size of that guy!" I put my binos on it and everything was confirmed, it was a MONSTER, he was by himself and kind of quartered from me, leisurely walking towards a saddle about 50 yards above him and to the right. I didn't have my pack that day, heck all I was wearing was a t-shirt, a pair of Wranglers and some Pony tennis shoes, we were on a bald ass hill that didn't have anything on it to use as a rest. Well, I didn't have a lot of time before he went into and through the saddle and disappeared when my buddy said "use my back" and he got down on all 4,s and while on his elbows crammed his fingers in both ears. The buck was almost to the saddle and I had him figured at about 500-550 yards away, I had shot on the range at that distance but had never shot at a buck at that distance and have not again til this day. There was just no way to get closer, no time and I was young and confident. I held the 270 at about 3 1/2 ft above his back, let a breath out and gently squeezed the trigger. The buck dropped in its tracks, never took another step, never flinched, just dropped! I watched him through the scope for a few seconds, my buddy stood up and asked"is he down", I said yep and we high fives each other, about 20-30 seconds of celebratory hugs and conversation later I put my binos on him to get a feel of where he was and to plan a route to get to him when through my glasses I seen him standing on all 4,s shaking his body and head like a dog that just got out of the tub, he took about 5 steps and disappeared through the saddle, we were both stunned. We went to the area and searched tin dark, no blood, not a drop. While looking we heard a shot down low by the road but sounded aways off and muffled, we didn't think anything of it. We went back to camp and came up with a plan to go into the north side of the ridge 1st thing in the A.M with 4 other guys and hopefully find him wounded or bedded in the heavy jungle on the other side. We went in the next day and spread out searching the heavy jack pines, 6 of us total, 10 hours not a trace, I was sick, I had never lost a buck before and it was a horrible feeling and as big as he was didn't help, I guessed him at 30'' give or take with the look I had of him with a kicker on his right side. Well, the season ended we all went home to our lives and the grind. About 2 weeks later while out on my route one of my customers asked how the season went, we talked for awhile but I did not mention "the buck", he knew the area where we hunted but not specifics. He said he had a friend that killed a huge buck over by the area we hunt, he said he was hunting way north or our area but was on his way to town to get gas when this buck crossed the road in front of him. He chased it into a field and killed it at about 75 yards with one shot, he told me it was a dandy, 36 1/4 inches wide outside spread, he told me he would get a picture of it from his friend and bring it in and show me the next time I was in. Two weeks later I was there again, he had the picture, 7 on one side 6 on the other, 36 1/4 inches wide outside spread, 32 inches wide not using the 4 1/4 inch kicker, a beautiful buck. I looked at the 4 pictures of the deer when on one of the pictures I noticed a notch gouged out of the base of its left antler, about an inch or so above his skull. It caught my attention, a lot about the buck had already reminded me of the buck I seen and shot at that day and now my mind was working, I asked him if I could have his friends phone number, he said sure and I called him that evening. He said it was a bullet gouge in the horn(a game guy told him that) and it was moving pretty fast when it came down the hill and crossed the road. I asked him where he was on the road when it crossed and about what time he got it, he told me where it was and he killed it at about 3.30 in the afternoon. All the stars lined up and the t,s were crossed and the I,s dotted, I told him my story and told him that gouge was from a shot I had taken about 30 minutes prior, I had rung his bell and knocked him out, he shook it off like a prize fighter and went on to the next round. I still see that buck standing there "shaking it off" til this day.

Offline Elkpiss

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #34 on: November 01, 2019, 11:15:33 AM »
Ok ill play...  It was 2006 i was 22 years old "Bow" Elk Hunting the Eagle Cap Mountains, i was hunting with a group of guys i have never hunted with before, they were all much older then I was.  We hunted as a group for the first 3 days and never saw a Elk. I was getting frustrated hunting with the group of guys and not seeing an Elk, so day 4 i said guys i am going to hunt by myself and go in deep and see what i can turn up and get high and cover ground..  So I set off solo on day 4, and i got about a mile or 2 in and i was on a bull at 50 yards raking a tree he was a huge 5x5 I tried to sneek in on him and get a shot but never made it happen. To make a long story short i got on 5-6 different bulls that morning and couldnt get a shot.. So the time was about 11 am and I decided to sit down and have some lunch on the mountain.  I got my buddy on the radio and told him the good news that I was on alot of bulls and to meet me on the hillside and we will hunt the rest of the day together, I sat down and bugled and had Chit scattered everywhere while i was eating, I heard my buddy bugle right below me so i got on the radio and told him i heard him bugle and im right above him, He says Corey, I dont have my bugle on me.. i said no chit at this same time i see antler tips coming through the trees, and the biggest bull i have ever seen in my life is walking picture perfect right too me, Im shaking like a leaf as these monterious antlers are just getting closer and closer and he walks behind a tree and i draw and he walks out perfect broadside, i didnt have time to range him, so i guess 40 yards i let the arrow fly and it sailed right over his back and the big bull took off, i instantly want to start crying.. I range where the bull was and he was only 27 yards away..  I was heart broken, to this day think of that bull almost everyday..  to this day he was the biggest bull i have every had a chance on. i guessed him to be 350+ chocolate horns frosted tips, long tined just everything you could dream of.. ive missed bulls since that one but nothing that was remotely close to that beast..  i still havent gotten over that bull and that was 13 years ago..   :bash: :bash: :'( :'( :'( :'(
Their going down!!!

Offline Pegasus

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #35 on: November 01, 2019, 11:42:25 AM »
When I was a kid about 14 years old I went whitetail deer hunting with my dad on opening day. My dad dropped me off at a logging road that I could walk up in the dark to where I wanted to hunt. I got to the end of the road and as it was still dark I decided to wait until daylight to enter the forest. I tucked myself up against a tree and waited. About ten minutes later I saw some movement  and a buck stepped out. Within a minute or two he was joined by another buck,then another  buck and another. All told there were about ten bucks all milling around together. Almost all of these bucks had some really nice racks. In the center of the pack was a large buck that appeared to be grey in color in the darkness and his rack was huge and very white in the limited light. This buck had the best rack that I have ever seen in my life, then and now close to 60 years later. It was still too dark to shoot and my iron sights were not visible. I waited while they continued to mill around less than 100 feet from me. Eventually it was light enough to pull the trigger but the monster buck was now protected by other deer in my line of fire. Suddenly they winded me I believe and quickly they dispersed out of sight, never giving me a clear shot at that magnificent buck that had a tall rack with so many stickers on it I could not even guess the point count.

I hunted hard the rest of the day hoping to cross one of those bucks but never did see another deer the entire day. It was almost as if the the bucks had held a pre-season powwow prior to kickoff time for the opener and got out of dodge.

Offline bigmacc

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #36 on: November 01, 2019, 12:28:39 PM »
Heres one from my dad from about 25 years ago, he passed a few years ago but loved telling this story and I guess its up to me and my brother to tell it now. Just a little about my dad that will help add to the story. He had been hunting the Methow since he was 9 years old( late 1930,s), killed his 1st buck that year and went on to kill 74 more of them, all Methow bucks. He hunted moose and caribou in Alaska(grandparents had some interests in some fishing operations up there), he killed elk out of Camp Grisdale on the Peninsula(back when every garage in that town had a huge bull hanging on opening day) back in its hay-days as a logging camp and he was well respected by the old guard of the Game dept back in the day, he was asked his opinion on certain road closers and his thoughts and opinions were picked through and requested when it came to migration trends, timing and routes. He hunted the Methow with Game wardens and Game Mgrs from Alaska and Idaho who purchased out of state tags to come and hunt with him, all were not disappointed. He hunted hard, he took no shortcuts and respected all animals he pursued, especially his beloved Methow herd. He would get up at 1 in the AM and hike 7 miles out of camp to get into certain areas, he would hike into areas that only a big buck would go into let alone another human or even a doe for that matter, he killed bucks in places no one had never seen any deer before, he would go in from different angles and come out with a big non-typical or in one case, a 31 inch perfect 4 by 4 the day after another fella had hunted it for 6 days straight(which he did :chuckle:). The guy was the one that taught us that "you need to know what a buck is gonna do before HE KNOWS what he's gonna do", many joked for years he was a "deer whisperer". He killed 6 bucks that I know of that were over 30"(one was 37), he killed 4 non typicals  that each had over 20 total points . He was not a bragger or a "look at me" kind of guy, he never had a deer scored, all his horns were given away(they hung in my great grandparents shop for years), in fact there are very few pictures of him, he was just a very humble guy who quietly and respectfully went about hunting his Methow mule deer, in fact if he was alive and read what I just wrote my ass would be promptly kicked :chuckle: and it probably still will be one day :chuckle:, thats it.....Now heres the story.

Back in the mid 90,s my dad was suggesting for some of us to go into an area he had "a feeling" about, we were all seeing deer in the areas we were already concentrating on and he couldn't talk any of us young whipper-snappers to go into it. Well one day he got fed up and he took another guy from camp(that already had killed his buck) and off they went, he jokingly said "I,ll show you jack a@#,s". They jumped in the rig about 5 o'clock in the morning and said they would be back a little after dark. The spot they were going to was about a 10 mile drive and then about a 4 mile hike in, most of us had been in there many times and just wasn't that impressed, seen deer but a very few of us had ever seen many or seen bucks, kind of a weird spot for some reason. My dad had his rifle and a buddy for an extra set of eyes, I remember him saying "to keep a spot open on the pole" when they left. They got to the spot, hiked in, glassed and glassed and then glassed again, nothing, I remember my dad saying they "didn't even see a bird or a chipmunk". They started walking out after spending most of the day in there, they got back to the truck about an hour before dark. They got everything into the truck, my dad unloaded his rifle and put his bullets in the front chest pocket of his flannel shirt. Walking out he had taken off his coat and a hickory shirt he had on over the flannel to keep from sweating, when they got to the truck after unloading and BS,ing for a bit he put the hickory shirt back on and put his coat back on(it was about 20 degrees). After talking for a bit they got in the truck and took off. They drove maybe 20 feet and rounded a corner in the dirt road, when they went around, standing in the road was the biggest buck my dad said he had ever seen, his buddy confirmed, It was "a buck you only see in your dreams, it was perfect and pretty". They stopped, the buck stopped right in the middle of the road, not more than 30 feet from the truck, everyone concerned just frozen, starring at each other. My dad finally, SLOWLY opened the door, SLOWLY stepped onto the road, he was SLOWLY reaching for his bullets that were in his front pocket, he fumbled and fumbled trying to get them out of the pocket, he could feel them but everytime he dipped into the pocket they weren't there. This went on for about 10-15 seconds when the monster SLOWLY walked to the side of the road, looked back at my dad and SLOWLY stepped off the road and SLOWLY started walking down the hill. My dad kept his eyes on the deer while still trying to get his dang bullets out of his pocket, my dad SLOWLY walked to the side and looked down, the buck was SLOWLY moving away, almost like he thought no one had seen him and he was just sneaking away. My dad made his way down the hill, STILL fumbling for his bullets that were IN HIS FRONT POCKET while keeping the big buck in focus. The buck walked through a couple small poplar thickets and my dad followed, the whole ordeal lasted for about 3-4 minutes although my dad said it seemed like forever. My dad said "he could have killed the thing 20 times he was walking so slow". The buck, eventually dropped into a jack pine thicket and bolted, my dad said you could here small trees and limbs breaking for 5 minutes as he tore through there, now, it was dark. Dad got back to the truck, his buddy asked "what the hell happened", my dad said "he couldn't get the bullets out of his pocket", he reached into the pocket, still a little baffled by the whole ordeal and said "for crying out loud", the bullits were in the flannel shirt pocket not the hickory shirt, he kept trying to get the bullets out of the hickory shirt, he could feel the dang things but couldn't get ahold of them! They got back to camp, my dad put his rifle in the case and fished for the next 3 days :chuckle:. They said that buck was a perfect 3 by 3 with at least 5-6 inch eye guards and was at least 35 inches wide and 2 feet tall, the horns were black and the bases were as big around as a mans wrist. They figured him at between 400lbs-425. For years he claimed HE MAY even have had a "little bit of the buck fever with that guy" :chuckle:....A few of us went back into that turf and spread out over the last 3 days to see if we would get another glimpse of  the "slowpoke", we should have went fishing :chuckle:
« Last Edit: November 01, 2019, 04:34:45 PM by bigmacc »

Offline Odell

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #37 on: November 01, 2019, 01:22:27 PM »
Heres one from my dad from about 25 years ago, he passed a few years ago but loved telling this story and I guess its up to me and my brother to tell it now. Just a little about my dad that will help add to the story. He had been hunting the Methow since he was 9 years old( late 1930,s), killed his 1st buck that year and went on to kill 74 more of them, all Methow bucks. He hunted moose and caribou in Alaska(grandparents had some interests in some fishing operations up there), elk out of Camp Grisdale on the Peninsula(back when every garage in that town had a huge bull hanging on opening day) and he was well respected by the old guard of the Game dept back in the day, he was asked his opinion on certain road closers and his thoughts and opinions were picked and requested when it came to migration trends, timing and routes. He hunted hard, he took no shortcuts and respected all animals he pursued, especially his beloved Methow herd. He would get up at 1 in the AM and hike 7 miles out of camp to get into certain areas, he would hike into areas that only a big buck would go into let alone another human or even a doe for that matter, he killed bucks in places no one had never seen any deer before, he would go in from different angles and come out with a big non-typical or in one case, a 31 inch perfect 4 by 4 the day after another fella had hunted it for 6 days straight(which he did :chuckle:). The guy was the one that taught us that "you need to know what a buck is gonna do before HE KNOWS what he's gonna do", many joked for years he was a "deer whisperer". He killed 6 bucks that I know of that were over 30"(one was 37), he killed 4 non typicals  that each had over 20 total points . He was not a bragger or a "look at me" kind of guy, he never had a deer scored, all his horns were given away(they hung in my great grandparents shop for years), in fact there are very few pictures of him, he was just a very humble guy who quietly and respectfully went about hunting his Methow mule deer, thats it.....Now heres the story.

Back in the mid 90,s my dad was suggesting for some of us to go into an area he had "a feeling" about, we were all seeing deer in the areas we were already concentrating on and he couldn't talk any of us young whipper-snappers to go into it. Well one day he got fed up and he took another guy from camp(that already had killed his buck) and off they went, he jokingly said "I,ll show you jack a@#,s". They jumped in the rig about 5 o'clock in the morning and said they would be back a little after dark. The spot they were going to was about a 10 mile drive and then about a 4 mile hike in, most of us had been in there many times and just wasn't that impressed, seen deer but a very few of us had ever seen many or seen bucks, kind of a weird spot for some reason. My dad had his rifle and a buddy for an extra set of eyes, I remember him saying "to keep a spot open on the pole" when they left. They got to the spot, hiked in, glassed and glassed and then glassed again, nothing, I remember my dad saying they "didn't even see a bird or a chipmunk". They started walking out after spending most of the day in there, they got back to the truck about an hour before dark. They got everything into the truck, my dad unloaded his rifle and put his bullets in the front chest pocket of his flannel shirt. Walking out he had taken off his coat and a hickory shirt he had on over the flannel to keep from sweating, when they got to the truck after unloading and BS,ing for a bit he put the hickory shirt back on and put his coat back on(it was about 20 degrees). After talking for a bit they got in the truck and took off. They drove maybe 20 feet and rounded a corner in the dirt road, when they went around, standing in the road was the biggest buck my dad said he had ever seen, his buddy confirmed, It was "a buck you only see in your dreams, it was perfect and pretty". They stopped, the buck stopped right in the middle of the road, not more than 30 feet from the truck, everyone concerned just frozen, starring at each other. My dad finally, SLOWLY opened the door, SLOWLY stepped onto the road, he was SLOWLY reaching for his bullets that were in his front pocket, he fumbled and fumbled trying to get them out of the pocket, he could feel them but everytime he dipped into the pocket they weren't there. This went on for about 10-15 seconds when the monster SLOWLY walked to the side of the road, looked back at my dad and SLOWLY stepped off the road and SLOWLY started walking down the hill. My dad kept his eyes on the deer while still trying to get his dang bullets out of his pocket, my dad SLOWLY walked to the side and looked down, the buck was SLOWLY moving away, almost like he thought no one had seen him and he was just sneaking away. My dad made his way down the hill, STILL fumbling for his bullets that were IN HIS FRONT POCKET while keeping the big buck in focus. The buck walked through a couple thickets and my dad followed, the whole ordeal lasted for about 2-3 minutes although my dad said it seemed like forever. The buck, dropped into a jack pine thicket and bolted, my dad said you could here small trees and limbs breaking for 5 minutes as he tore through there, now it was dark. Dad got back to the truck, his buddy asked "what the hell happened", my dad said "he couldn't get the bullets out of his pocket", he reached into the pocket, still a little baffled by the whole ordeal and said "for crying out loud", the bullits were in the flannel shirt pocket not the hickory shirt, he kept trying to get the bullets out of the hickory shirt, he could feel the dang things but couldn't get ahold of them! They got back to camp, my dad put his rifle in the case and fished for the next 3 days :chuckle:. They said that buck was a perfect 3 by 3 with at least 5-6 inch eye guards and was at least 35 inches wide and 2 feet tall, the horns were black and the bases were as big around as a mans wrist. They figured him at between 400lbs-425. For years he claimed HE MAY even have had a "little bit of the buck fever with that guy" :chuckle:....A few of us went back into that turf and spread out over the last 3 days to see if we would get another glimpse of  the "slowpoke", we should have went fishing :chuckle:

Thats an awesome story, thanks for sharing!
what in the wild wild world of sports???

Offline bigmacc

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #38 on: November 01, 2019, 04:14:17 PM »

I have another that I will tell another time, it involves my great grandpa and a certain "tree", those that know me know what I,m talking about. I,m going to be gone for a few days, I,ll type it up when I get back. Keep them coming everyone, all are great stories, we've all been there :tup:

Offline Hockey21

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #39 on: November 01, 2019, 04:31:04 PM »
This year is my year. I had a buck 250yds, in my sights, and I was ready to pull the trigger. It was a beautiful, at least 5x5 (10pt) whitetail buck. I have never seen a whitetail in that area. This is Muley country. There are plenty of whitetail around, just down in the valley. His coat was amazing and he was definitely a wall hanger. I watched him for about 30 minutes just walking around, then he bedded down. There was about 20 minutes of legal shooting left and it was going to get dark soon. It was about an hour trip to get him, straight down and up a ravine. We decided that we didn't wan't to deal with it in the pitch black, plus he got his buck on the first day. We were also a little tired from dragging our buddies buck (who is disabled) a few hundred yards up and down to his ATV. The next day my father in law said I should've shot it and if he didn't have his already he would of!! WTH!!! So now I have another 11 months and 3 weeks to hate myself.

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #40 on: November 01, 2019, 05:09:56 PM »

Awesome thread and Great story!  Any chance you’ve got a copy of a pic of that corker?

I,m sure we all have that one hunt, or that one buck or bull that you seen and never got a shot at or just couldn't close the deal, or maybe you did get a shot at and missed.What ever the issue, its an animal that haunts you and always will, for whatever reason, or it may not haunt you but its one you will never forget and you just had to tip your hat to it and move on.

It was the mid 1980,s for me in the Methow. I was out with a buddy and we were taking it easy one day, it was warm and sunny. We had been hiking into several areas every day for 5 days prior(6-8 mile round trips) and decided to kick back a little. The areas we had been going into were excellent areas but the weather and moon were not cooperating and we were seeing mostly does and tiny bucks. The kick back day was about a 2 mile hike in that was nice and easy and any deer killed would be all downhill to a main road, easy peasy although our plans were mostly to just spread out and nap in the sun :chuckle:. It was about 2 in the afternoon when we headed out and it was about 60 degrees with beautiful blue skies. We crested a small ridge about halfway there when across a huge draw out in the wide open something caught my eye, I knew it was a buck without even putting my binos on it, the buck was 480 yards away(my son and I rangefinded the spot about 8 years ago)and its antlers stuck out like a sore thumb. I remember telling my buddy "HOLY SMOKES, look at the size of that guy!" I put my binos on it and everything was confirmed, it was a MONSTER, he was by himself and kind of quartered from me, leisurely walking towards a saddle about 50 yards above him and to the right. I didn't have my pack that day, heck all I was wearing was a t-shirt, a pair of Wranglers and some Pony tennis shoes, we were on a bald ass hill that didn't have anything on it to use as a rest. Well, I didn't have a lot of time before he went into and through the saddle and disappeared when my buddy said "use my back" and he got down on all 4,s and while on his elbows crammed his fingers in both ears. The buck was almost to the saddle and I had him figured at about 500-550 yards away, I had shot on the range at that distance but had never shot at a buck at that distance and have not again til this day. There was just no way to get closer, no time and I was young and confident. I held the 270 at about 3 1/2 ft above his back, let a breath out and gently squeezed the trigger. The buck dropped in its tracks, never took another step, never flinched, just dropped! I watched him through the scope for a few seconds, my buddy stood up and asked"is he down", I said yep and we high fives each other, about 20-30 seconds of celebratory hugs and conversation later I put my binos on him to get a feel of where he was and to plan a route to get to him when through my glasses I seen him standing on all 4,s shaking his body and head like a dog that just got out of the tub, he took about 5 steps and disappeared through the saddle, we were both stunned. We went to the area and searched tin dark, no blood, not a drop. While looking we heard a shot down low by the road but sounded aways off and muffled, we didn't think anything of it. We went back to camp and came up with a plan to go into the north side of the ridge 1st thing in the A.M with 4 other guys and hopefully find him wounded or bedded in the heavy jungle on the other side. We went in the next day and spread out searching the heavy jack pines, 6 of us total, 10 hours not a trace, I was sick, I had never lost a buck before and it was a horrible feeling and as big as he was didn't help, I guessed him at 30'' give or take with the look I had of him with a kicker on his right side. Well, the season ended we all went home to our lives and the grind. About 2 weeks later while out on my route one of my customers asked how the season went, we talked for awhile but I did not mention "the buck", he knew the area where we hunted but not specifics. He said he had a friend that killed a huge buck over by the area we hunt, he said he was hunting way north or our area but was on his way to town to get gas when this buck crossed the road in front of him. He chased it into a field and killed it at about 75 yards with one shot, he told me it was a dandy, 36 1/4 inches wide outside spread, he told me he would get a picture of it from his friend and bring it in and show me the next time I was in. Two weeks later I was there again, he had the picture, 7 on one side 6 on the other, 36 1/4 inches wide outside spread, 32 inches wide not using the 4 1/4 inch kicker, a beautiful buck. I looked at the 4 pictures of the deer when on one of the pictures I noticed a notch gouged out of the base of its left antler, about an inch or so above his skull. It caught my attention, a lot about the buck had already reminded me of the buck I seen and shot at that day and now my mind was working, I asked him if I could have his friends phone number, he said sure and I called him that evening. He said it was a bullet gouge in the horn(a game guy told him that) and it was moving pretty fast when it came down the hill and crossed the road. I asked him where he was on the road when it crossed and about what time he got it, he told me where it was and he killed it at about 3.30 in the afternoon. All the stars lined up and the t,s were crossed and the I,s dotted, I told him my story and told him that gouge was from a shot I had taken about 30 minutes prior, I had rung his bell and knocked him out, he shook it off like a prize fighter and went on to the next round. I still see that buck standing there "shaking it off" til this day.

No I don't have a picture :bash: :bash:. The very next year we were talking about that day around the fire and how I should ask him for a copy of the picture, the guy that knew the guy that killed it(my customer) had moved away, somewhere :dunno:, no one knew. I didn't have the phone number of the fella who killed it anymore :bash:... dead end. Didn't even think of it at the time, I guess it just didn't cross my mind at the time, I kick myself often for that.

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #41 on: November 01, 2019, 05:14:33 PM »
 First year I did the High Hunt me and a buddy rode into an area he's hunted for years . Next morning we wake up later then he wanted so decide to hunt from a meadow he knows of close to camp , instead of walking up to his usual glassing spot. As the sun is rising he's explaining the area to me and where the deer usually are , sure enough when the sun hits the hill the deer start showing up . Soon enough their is 8 decent bucks spread across the hillside . We're looking them over and I decide I want the 24" wide super tall 4x4 , hes going to wait it out we have 4 more days . I range the buck and he's just inside 700 yrds , get all set up behind my rifle and him his spotter . Safety is off and I'm just waiting for the deer to turn broadside . As I'm waiting I notice the deer keeps looking downhill and kinda behind him . Ask my buddy " You seeing that deer keep looking behind him " he says " yeah wonder why " . Sit there a couple more minutes and he decides to take a step out and check the 1 spot on the hill we can't see .
  He steps out to where he can see the area and says " Holy ×××× grab my rifle , get up here , and range the top of the saddle " . I scramble out there get set up and range the saddle , tell him " 580 why " . He says " follow that draw down and look at those 2 bucks walking up towards the saddle , when they get to the top I'm shooting the 1st one  , when you hear me shoot take the 2nd one ". The bucks never did stop and we never found them again the 4 days we were there. 
 These bucks were honest to God the biggest bucks either of us has seen in our hunting years ( I've got some nice bucks on the wall,  and him a couple pushing 185 -190 ) .
 The 1st was easily a 30"+ 5x5 with eyeguards , the 2nd just as much as wide if not wider,  6 point typical frame on his left and a trashy points everywhere right side.  We figured they would hit the top , stop and look at the other bucks on the hillside and give us a shot . We watched them walk nonstop for probably 3-5 minutes up that draw , tracking them in our crosshairs . Not once did they stop.
 After they went over the top , we sat there in disbelief at what we just saw. He said " that 24" buck is still there , you going to shoot it "? My response was " Nope , not after what we just saw , I'm holding out too " . We both ate tag soup that year , but relive that hunt everytime we hunt together , 7 years later .
 
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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #42 on: November 01, 2019, 05:22:42 PM »
I have another that I actually have photos of.

Hunting Sitka Blacktails on Hawkins Island in Prince William Sound out of Cordova with me best hunting buddy.  We were traveling around the island in my gillnetter, stopping in different locations to hunt. We spent a night at a friend's cabin in Canoe Pass (normally we sleep where ever we are on the boat) and at first light we ran a short distance to a cove known locally as "The Goose Coop". There is a nice trail up the mountain there and we planned on spending the day hunting as far up the mountain as we got.  I dropped Tony off on the beach, then anchored the boat and paddled to shore in my kayak.  We'd gone up the trail about a mile when we spotted some deer including a fair buck so I made a sneak on the buck, only to be busted by a doe.  So we continued up until we were about 2/3 of the way up the mt. There was a nice area for glassing so we split up and did some solo glassing. After a bit, I spotted a very nice fork horn bedded down on a ridge. For the area, he was on the large size. Being about 400 yards off, I decided I could get much closer, probably 75-100 yards from him if I made my approach right.  I glassed the area over and picked my route. As I got closer, I decided to take before photos to go with the after photos I'd take later. I got to the bottom of the small ridge that was going to take me up near the buck. It was really dry at the time so I decided to leave everything unnecessary for the final approach by a log at the bottom of the ridge. I dropped my day pack and binos and even took off my boots after deciding I could be more quiet with just my wool socks on my feet. I then started up the ridge, doing my best Indian sneak.  As I started to crest the ridge I kept looking, but couldn't see him so kept moving very slowly. Then suddenly he stood up about 30 yards from me and stood there broadside staring me down. I raised my gun and....... click. "Oh no, I forgot to jack a shell in the chamber!" He stood there looking at me as I jacked the bolt. Aim....... CLICK! I open the bolt........ Crap, I'd been hunting all day with an empty gun!  He's still standing there looking at me. I reach in my pocket for the bullets I always carry there...... Nothing. Everything was down in my pack at the bottom of the ridge.  I started backing up, hoping I could somehow get to my pack and back up the ridge in time to find him. But he finally whirled around and dropped off the end of the ridge.  When I returned he was nowhere to be seen. I went and got Tony and we hunted back down to the boat in the direction he'd gone, but we never did see him again.  We each got a couple deer that trip, but he was the nicest buck we saw.

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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #43 on: November 02, 2019, 03:24:10 PM »
I have another that I actually have photos of.

Hunting Sitka Blacktails on Hawkins Island in Prince William Sound out of Cordova with me best hunting buddy.  We were traveling around the island in my gillnetter, stopping in different locations to hunt. We spent a night at a friend's cabin in Canoe Pass (normally we sleep where ever we are on the boat) and at first light we ran a short distance to a cove known locally as "The Goose Coop". There is a nice trail up the mountain there and we planned on spending the day hunting as far up the mountain as we got.  I dropped Tony off on the beach, then anchored the boat and paddled to shore in my kayak.  We'd gone up the trail about a mile when we spotted some deer including a fair buck so I made a sneak on the buck, only to be busted by a doe.  So we continued up until we were about 2/3 of the way up the mt. There was a nice area for glassing so we split up and did some solo glassing. After a bit, I spotted a very nice fork horn bedded down on a ridge. For the area, he was on the large size. Being about 400 yards off, I decided I could get much closer, probably 75-100 yards from him if I made my approach right.  I glassed the area over and picked my route. As I got closer, I decided to take before photos to go with the after photos I'd take later. I got to the bottom of the small ridge that was going to take me up near the buck. It was really dry at the time so I decided to leave everything unnecessary for the final approach by a log at the bottom of the ridge. I dropped my day pack and binos and even took off my boots after deciding I could be more quiet with just my wool socks on my feet. I then started up the ridge, doing my best Indian sneak.  As I started to crest the ridge I kept looking, but couldn't see him so kept moving very slowly. Then suddenly he stood up about 30 yards from me and stood there broadside staring me down. I raised my gun and....... click. "Oh no, I forgot to jack a shell in the chamber!" He stood there looking at me as I jacked the bolt. Aim....... CLICK! I open the bolt........ Crap, I'd been hunting all day with an empty gun!  He's still standing there looking at me. I reach in my pocket for the bullets I always carry there...... Nothing. Everything was down in my pack at the bottom of the ridge.  I started backing up, hoping I could somehow get to my pack and back up the ridge in time to find him. But he finally whirled around and dropped off the end of the ridge.  When I returned he was nowhere to be seen. I went and got Tony and we hunted back down to the boat in the direction he'd gone, but we never did see him again.  We each got a couple deer that trip, but he was the nicest buck we saw.

Sounds like something only I could do.  Thanks for sharing.  I believe there is a lot of value in sharing our mess-ups with other hunters.  Though they might be a bit embarrassing, the opportunity for others to learn from our mistakes is well worth the slight humiliation of admitting we're fallible. 

So, just to reiterate my stupidity from five days ago (for those of you who were lucky enough not to read it already), here's my BT hunt from 29 Oct: 
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"0900:  Had a spike chase a doe out into the cut I was sitting on this AM. Cold and windy but they didn't care. She ran like hell and finally lost the little guy.  She came down right in front of my blind and hung out a bit.  Her tail was sticking straight out, horizontal to the ground.  Hot Doe!!!  She stands there a bit, tucks herself into the brush, puts her butt to the wind so that it carries her scent downwind of her and into the sloped, heavy brushed in area farther down the draw.  I"m thinking GOLDEN TICKET!

0915:  I planned on a pretty quick response because of where she positioned herself to the stand of Alder, brush and impenetrable thicket.  I can see her ears working as she's listening for her suitor.  Less than 10 minutes later, mature 3-point massive bodied buck jumps out of the brush and they are in love......

I wish there was a happy ending to the story.  I'd been hoping for the 3 X 4 or the wide forkie thqt I had caught on my cam earlier in the season.  This buck comes in, he's easily five, maybe six years old, and an almost replica (but bigger) of the buck I killed there five years ago.  Just a gorgeous animal.  He was golden in the sun, probably somewhere between summer and winter coats.  I saw the antlers and even though he was pretty wide, I was going to pass on him, but once he stepped out into the clearing, it became apparent that this was not a deer to pass on, even though it was not the ones I'd hoped for.

I grabbed my gun while he was hopping around the doe, seemingly very happy to meet her.  I clicked off the safety and put the crosshairs just behind his shoulder and took the shot.  He reared up on his hind legs, swung around in a 180 and fell to the ground.  He got up after a second ran about 10 feet, and fell again.  He stayed there for maybe five seconds.  He started to get up again, so I jacked another round into my chamber and he hopped  for another 10 yards and fell.  I tried to put another shot in him there.  He fell with his head and antlers facing me and the rest of his body hidden in the brush.  I put my scope on him, but the morning sun at 0930 was reflecting into my scope at the direction he was laying from me. I couldn't see anything clearly, so I just watched.  He tried to get up once more, but didn't get anything more than a struggle to get up before he gave up and lay still.

So, as is the norm for me, I swear that is the last buck I will ever kill, since I really hate killing these beautiful animals.  I suck up my gut and ready myself for an afternoon of hard work (I hate work these days...I'm retired).  While I'm getting my gear ready to get out of the blind, the doe comes back to look for her boyfriend.  I sit patiently and let her look around and once I can no longer see her, exit the elevated blind and head out to get my rig.  I'm taking my time since it's still early and I've got all day to suffer through the work ahead.  I open the forest gate and drive in, find some timbers to lay on the tailgate so I can slide the deer up onto the bed of the truck.  I came back about 45 minutes, plus or minus 5 minutes later to get the buck.

Last summer, I'd bought a deer drag utility sled/toboggan looking thing made out of plastic that seemed perfect to help me get a deer out of this spot, so I emptied my hunting pack except for knives, game bags, etc,  Trying to keep my load light, because I've got a bad back, I left my gun in the truck and headed out loaded only with the sled and the pack with butchering gear.

I work my way out to where I shot the deer, dragging that stupid sled behind me, looking for the buck in the waist-tall brush and blackberries.  I've got a good idea where he is, but from ground level, 30ish feet below my blind, I can't see him like I could from the top of the hill.  I'm working my way back and forth, knowing that I am close, and suddenly the brush erupts!  That freeking buck is up and running up the hill.  He stops 25 - 30 yards up the hill from me, turns, quartering away, and just looks at me over his shoulder.  He's not moving, just looking at me.  I'm standing there with that stupid sled in one hand and an imaginary big swinging **** in the other.  I have no response.  I'm standing there looking at a resurrected ghost of a buck, basically flipping me off, and I cannot do anything at all.  I just mentally mark his location, turn and walk away.  '

I felt sick, since I didn't believe the animal would live.  I couldn't figure out what kind of shot would allow a buck to get up 45 minutes after being shot and run away like it had never happened.  The rifled 20 ga. slug gun was zeroed at 3.5 inches high at 100 yards so that it would be zero at 150  yards, and it was accurate.  Tops, my shot shouldn't have been higher than 4.5 inches high in my mind.  On a deer this size, it should have been a kill shot.  Whatever the case, it was enough to drop it and keep it immobile for 45 minutes, and then the deer was (suddenly) all better.   To be safe, I pulled out and gave the deer 2.5 hours then returned and did grid searches of the hillside of where he was headed when he gave me the finger.  I never found any blood, and quite obviously, never found him.

After the fact, I've got a feeling that perhaps I backstrapped him with the shot, stunning his spinal chord so that he couldn't run. By the time I'd got back to him, He'd recovered enough to get up and go.  I'm now feeling like he was not mortally wounded.  He looked too alive when I saw him, too normal.  He's likely got a bad flesh wound that hopefully will heal without complications.

I totally destroyed the area looking for him this afternoon.  I bumped three does from beds and left my stink all over the spot.  Times like these, I think about taking up a new sport......  What to do tomorrow?????"
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Does this guy still haunt me??  I dreamed about him, seemingly all night long last night.  I still can't quite believe how all this went down so badly.  After the fact, when he ran off, some thirty yards or so and turned to face me, I now believe he was ready to do a death battle with a predator.  He was wounded, in pain, and may easily have been ready to take me on.  With nothing in the area to protect me nor hide behind, (other than that stupid toboggan shaped deer drag), it could have easily turned ugly quickly.  He was a massive animal.  I doubt I would have fared well in the end.  Lesson learned!
 
« Last Edit: November 02, 2019, 03:50:42 PM by fishnfur »
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Re: Bucks that forever haunt you
« Reply #44 on: November 02, 2019, 08:16:45 PM »
Good post fishnfur. And the moral of this lesson? Always make sure your animal is dead before you do anything else.  I had a similar happen in the 80s while blackpowder hunting.  Nice forky jumped up and stood there looking at me. I fired and he dropped like a rock and slid down the hill into a stump head on, flipped over it and continued to slide down hill out of my sight. I've never seen a deer look deader after a shot. I decided just in case, I'd reload before going down into the canyon so I'd be ready if a finishing shot was necessary.  I walked around the head of the canyon to where he'd been standing and the slide trail down was very obvious and streaked with blood. Found where he landed after flipping over the stump and still the depressed grass with streaks of blood. I get to the bottom, and nothing except a few drops of blood. On a trail going up the other side I find a couple more drops of blood, then nothing. I followed the trail out the ridge and still nothing. I go back to the last blood and start doing circles nothing. There were enough fresh tracks in the area that I lost his tracks soon enough.  Spent all the rest of that day and the next searching. And it was in a newly planted clearcut, probably planted the spring before. So it was very open for the most part.  Thinking it over, my best guess is I skulled him and knocked him out. But by the time he hit the bottom he came to.  My stopping to reload gave him just enough time to get away. If I'd gone to where I could see down in the canyon first, I may at least have had an idea right away of where he'd gone.
A man who fears suffering is already suffering from what he fears. ~ Michel de Montaigne

 


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