Good Memory Bucks

[baldopepper]

Decided to put up a few sets that have good memories for me. One is the first buck I ever shot, one the last my father shot, one is one of two twins my brother killed with one shot. All are nice bucks, but now I can sit and recall all those hunts which brings on memories of other good hunts. Hope I've got a few more in me

[Buckhunter24]

Looks really nice, some dandy bucks too  wish I still had the first buck I shot still, woulda made a nice hat hanger for 2 hats 

[redi]

Looks great. A lot of character on those racks. Enjoy the memories.

[elksnout]

That's what it's all about right there. You have a fantastic collection of "trophy memories" to be damn proud of.   

Elksnout

[bigmacc]

Well I have a few, the one that stands out the most is probably the big one my dad killed back in the 60,s that a bunch of game guys got wind of and came to our camp to weigh him and look him over. I remember sitting there with my dad freezing with hours to go before shooting time, fog rolling in and out, about 6-8" of frozen, crusty snow on the ground and somewhere in the single digits, miserable. We were in a spot that my dad loved to sit when migrations were in full tilt. He would sit there and see nothing but does and small bucks come through by the hundreds in a 2 day spread, he would then let it rest for a couple days and get right back in there and here would come the big boys, like clock work. Well that particular year was no different, we had seen plenty of does moving through a few days prior, we layed off and on the third day dad said lets get in there. Its a couple hour hike getting to the spot, all up hill, we left camp at about 1:30/2 o'clock in the A.M, got there and sat for what seemed like forever. I remember a bunch of does and small bucks moving through the draw at a 150 yards or so away, in and out of the trees. My dad said to sit tight, more were coming, out of the trees came a group of some real nice bucks and more does, I couldn't figure out why dad wasn't shooting, a couple of the bucks were dandys. I can't remember actually how many deer moved through there over about a 10 minute period but it was a lot, probably 10-15 bucks of all shapes and sizes, then it piddled out, they all eventually worked their way through a saddle and disappeared. I whispered, why didn't you shoot, Dad said there was more coming, he "had a feeling" he said, those on here that knew my dad know exactly what I'm talking about. Maybe 10 or so minutes had passed, fog rolling in and out when at the bottom of the draw we could see deer in the fog, moving up towards the saddle, in and out of the trees and fog, we could see horns on a few but could not make out the size. My dad still whispered, don't move. After a dozen or so more deer (along with a couple more dandys) had moved out of the fog and were headed towards the saddle another lone deer was coming out of the trees, we could only see a shape and movement with another fog patch moving through. The buck got to where he was almost straight across from us when he came out of the fog, it looked like an elk. It was huge, looked twice as big as the other deer who had moved through that exact spot earlier, its head was down, swaying side to side as it walked, very slowly, all I could see as far as horns was a huge birds nest of antlers, too many points to count before he eventually would disappeared into the saddle. Dad raised his rifle and put a round right behind the shoulder, the buck didn't even flinch, just dropped, a kill shot we all hope to make every time out, the buck never knew what hit him. The buck had over 20 countable points and bases that a grown man couldnt get his hand around, ill never forget that hunt or that buck, some on here know what the Game department weighed him in at, I will decline to comment, it was big to say the least.


And yes, I did post a picture of him on here with my great grandma standing next to it, its the only set of antlers my dad ever saved. He always said, "hell, ill shoot another one" . I think he knew he could never top that fella so he kept those

[Griiz]

My most memorable buck was a non-typical drop tine blacktail. My late grandpa had given me a Savage model 99 300 savage that belonged to his brother Fred. Fred had bought 300 savages for his dad, two brothers and himself while working in Alaska. The bluing was all worn off mine from Fred's many hunts in Alaska. I can only imagine how many animals he harvested with it. I was honored to get one. The year after my grandpa died, I set out to harvest a mature blacktail with it. I ended up harvesting a big black bear and that buck two weekends apart and both were under 30 feet when I shot them. I felt like grandpa was there with me that year.
My second memorable buck was a mature 3 point blacktail. My other grandpa had given me his old grandpa mountain bike. The year he passed, I decided to use his bike so I could pack my buck out on it. I harvested my target buck the 2nd weekend, put it on the bike whole and pushed it the 3 miles out to the gate. I knew grandpa would be proud and laugh at that sight. Again I felt like grandpa was on the hunt with me.
Third most memorable, was hunting with my brother a few years ago and we both harvested 25" mule deer. I shot mine in the morning and my brother got his in the evening. I heard my brother shoot as I was getting my butt kicked packing my boned out buck out. I then dropped back into the canyon and helped him. It was a long memorable day. My dad was pretty worried when we got to camp so late.

Great Memories!

[bigmacc]

Another memory of a big buck was one we actually didn't kill but was probably one of the biggest bucks(rack size) I've ever seen, at least in the top 3.

It was back in the early 70,s I think, the season was over and dad and I went over to do some post season scouting and get some 8mm film and take some pictures. It was the week before Thanksgiving and we went into an area my great grandma actually named, some on here that know me know the spot and I have shared this story with another person on here in more detail so that person knows exactly where this happened.  There was a foot or so of fresh powder on the ground and we went to this spot that acts like a funnel for migrating deer, they will enter into this area from 3 different migration routes and this spot draws them all in to one. Back in the day before the Methow went in the crapper it was nothing to see hundreds of deer in a couple hour time frame funnel into this spot and then a couple hours later another wave, this is a spot I seen over 800 deer move though by 11 o'clock in the morning and the biggest Bucks were spikes and 2 points. A good friend of my great grandmas went out there the next day and killed a monstrous 5 by 5, that was traveling in a group of around 60 and 9 of those were big bucks. A lot of this information was written on the backs of pictures, my great grandma was a stickler about writing on the backs, details etc, she also wrote in journals, a lot of them are faded or smeared but some are still readable.

 Anyway, my dad and I got to this spot to see what was moving through and to hopefully get some pictures. The snow was cut up with tracks coming into this "funnel" from 3 different directions. We stopped by an old snag and I threw my binos up and immediately seen a lone buck slowly making his way into the funnel, all by himself, not another deer around, it looked like the majority of the migration had made its way through days prior. The buck was about 100 yards away give or take and it was walking straight away from us, IMHO bucks always look bigger in this position but this one looked dang near unreal, almost cartoonish it was so wide and heavy. It was quiet, no birds, no chipmunks, just cold and quiet with all that powder on the ground, eerie. My dad threw out a whistle and we had the camera rolling, the buck stopped, turned and looked directly at us while my dad filmed, it stood there just looking at us. After 3-4 minutes it quarters from us and started into the funnel(which was actually named something else by my great grandma 100 years ago and is still called by that name today), it lowered its head and slowly walked, head swaying, big white face, roman nose and a sway back that made him look like he had been rode for far to long. Some who know of this buck know he was well over 30" wide, my dad guessed him at over 3 feet and I would agree. The buck would stop from time to time and just look at us, never panicked or ran, like it could care less about us. I remember his body being way past its prime, he looked as old as I've ever seen a deer, old and broke down, his back left leg had an injury because he had a limp, I remember my dad saying "I'm glad we are seeing this, he won't make in through the winter, this may be the biggest buck you'll ever see, remember this"

I had a private conversation with a member on here, we were sharing stories of deer that keep us up at night, or deer we see in our dreams. Ive seen this buck in my sleep more than any buck I've killed or seen, I've often wondered where he died and how long he lasted. We went into the area for a few years after, its vast country with jack pine thickets and rock bluffs, we never found him.

[JakeLand]

Another memory of a big buck was one we actually didn't kill but was probably one of the biggest bucks(rack size) I've ever seen, at least in the top 3.

It was back in the early 70,s I think, the season was over and dad and I went over to do some post season scouting and get some 8mm film and take some pictures. It was the week before Thanksgiving and we went into an area my great grandma actually named, some on here that know me know the spot and I have shared this story with another person on here in more detail so that person knows exactly where this happened.  There was a foot or so of fresh powder on the ground and we went to this spot that acts like a funnel for migrating deer, they will enter into this area from 3 different migration routes and this spot draws them all in to one. Back in the day before the Methow went in the crapper it was nothing to see hundreds of deer in a couple hour time frame funnel into this spot and then a couple hours later another wave, this is a spot I seen over 800 deer move though by 11 o'clock in the morning and the biggest Bucks were spikes and 2 points. I good friend of my great grandmas went out there the next day and killed a monstrous 5 by 5, that was traveling in a group of around 60 and 9 of those were big bucks. A lot of this information was written on the backs of pictures, my great grandma was a stickler about writing on the backs, details etc, she also wrote in journals, a lot of them are faded or smeared but some are still readable.

 Anyway, my dad and I got to this spot to see what was moving through and to hopefully get some pictures. The snow was cut up with tracks coming into this "funnel" from 3 different directions. We stopped by an old snag and I threw my binos up and immediately seen a lone buck slowly making his way into the funnel, all by himself, not another deer around, it looked like the majority of the migration had made its way through days prior. The buck was about 100 yards away give or take and it was walking straight away from us, IMHO bucks always look bigger in this position but this one looked dang near unreal, almost cartoonish it was so wide and heavy. It was quiet, no birds, no chipmunks, just cold and quiet with all that powder on the ground, eerie. My dad threw out a whistle and we had the camera rolling, the buck stopped, turned and looked directly at us while my dad filmed, it stood there just looking at us. After 3-4 minutes it quarters from us and started into the funnel(which was actually named something else by my great grandma 100 years ago and is still called by that name today), it lowered its head and slowly walked, head swaying, big white face, roman nose and a sway back that made him look like he had been rode for far to long. Some who know of this buck know he was well over 30" wide, my dad guessed him at over 3 feet and I would agree. The buck would stop from time to time and just look at us, never panicked or ran, like it could care less about us. I remember his body being way past its prime, he looked as old as I've ever seen a deer, old and broke down, his back left leg had an injury because he had a limp, I remember my dad saying "I'm glad we are seeing this, he won't make in through the winter, this may be the biggest buck you'll ever see, remember this"

I had a private conversation with a member on here, we were sharing stories of deer that keep us up at night, or deer we see in our dreams. Ive seen this buck in my sleep more than any buck I've killed or seen, I've often wondered where he died and how long he lasted. We went into the area for a few years after, its vast country with jack pine thickets and rock bluffs, we never found him.

wow ! You should seriously think of writing a book WITH pics and stories of the experiences you and your family ! Please

[Buckhunter24]

I remember some pics you've posted bigmacc, a book would be cool I would buy one

[bearhunter99]

Another memory of a big buck was one we actually didn't kill but was probably one of the biggest bucks(rack size) I've ever seen, at least in the top 3.

It was back in the early 70,s I think, the season was over and dad and I went over to do some post season scouting and get some 8mm film and take some pictures. It was the week before Thanksgiving and we went into an area my great grandma actually named, some on here that know me know the spot and I have shared this story with another person on here in more detail so that person knows exactly where this happened.  There was a foot or so of fresh powder on the ground and we went to this spot that acts like a funnel for migrating deer, they will enter into this area from 3 different migration routes and this spot draws them all in to one. Back in the day before the Methow went in the crapper it was nothing to see hundreds of deer in a couple hour time frame funnel into this spot and then a couple hours later another wave, this is a spot I seen over 800 deer move though by 11 o'clock in the morning and the biggest Bucks were spikes and 2 points. I good friend of my great grandmas went out there the next day and killed a monstrous 5 by 5, that was traveling in a group of around 60 and 9 of those were big bucks. A lot of this information was written on the backs of pictures, my great grandma was a stickler about writing on the backs, details etc, she also wrote in journals, a lot of them are faded or smeared but some are still readable.

 Anyway, my dad and I got to this spot to see what was moving through and to hopefully get some pictures. The snow was cut up with tracks coming into this "funnel" from 3 different directions. We stopped by an old snag and I threw my binos up and immediately seen a lone buck slowly making his way into the funnel, all by himself, not another deer around, it looked like the majority of the migration had made its way through days prior. The buck was about 100 yards away give or take and it was walking straight away from us, IMHO bucks always look bigger in this position but this one looked dang near unreal, almost cartoonish it was so wide and heavy. It was quiet, no birds, no chipmunks, just cold and quiet with all that powder on the ground, eerie. My dad threw out a whistle and we had the camera rolling, the buck stopped, turned and looked directly at us while my dad filmed, it stood there just looking at us. After 3-4 minutes it quarters from us and started into the funnel(which was actually named something else by my great grandma 100 years ago and is still called by that name today), it lowered its head and slowly walked, head swaying, big white face, roman nose and a sway back that made him look like he had been rode for far to long. Some who know of this buck know he was well over 30" wide, my dad guessed him at over 3 feet and I would agree. The buck would stop from time to time and just look at us, never panicked or ran, like it could care less about us. I remember his body being way past its prime, he looked as old as I've ever seen a deer, old and broke down, his back left leg had an injury because he had a limp, I remember my dad saying "I'm glad we are seeing this, he won't make in through the winter, this may be the biggest buck you'll ever see, remember this"

I had a private conversation with a member on here, we were sharing stories of deer that keep us up at night, or deer we see in our dreams. Ive seen this buck in my sleep more than any buck I've killed or seen, I've often wondered where he died and how long he lasted. We went into the area for a few years after, its vast country with jack pine thickets and rock bluffs, we never found him.

wow ! You should seriously think of writing a book WITH pics and stories of the experiences you and your family ! Please

[blindluck]

Dang, this is Awesome

[HntnFsh]

Bigmacc, when you start telling a story I need a heads up beforehand so I can get a campfire going!

[bigmacc]

Another that stands for me was a buck I killed  while my brother was with me, he had just retired from the military and if he wouldn't have been with me, I would have probably not found this buck. I have been very blessed to have never lost an animal but this particular day would have been the day if he was not with me.

We had went into another area that is a convergence of small migration routes, deer will stage in here for awhile then move on to winter range. We had spotted a couple nice bucks on the way in and one was a buck I would have taken in a heartbeat but all we got was his silhouette going over a ridge, don't know how many points but a big, wide rack. We kept going and got to the spot, the migration kicked in about 2-3 days prior, weather had been dumping snow and wind in the summer range for about a week and I figured this particular spot may start to have some visitors. We weren't there more than 5 minutes when I spotted a group of does about 300 yards out, watching them through the binos you could tell they very skiddesh. About 2-3 minutes later a big 4 by 4 came out of the aspen thicket chasing a doe, he was big. He turned broad side and I took the shot, had a good rest, waited for the does to clear, he turned, cross hairs on his shoulder, my brother watching through the bino,s, BOOM! buck drops out of sight, about 14 does bust out in all directions, we both got or binoculars,s on the chaos, watching the does to make sure we don't have a wounded buck, nothing, just does bouncing off. We watched the area for a good 10 to 15 minutes, getting our bearings where the buck dropped etc.

We walked up the ridge to the exact spot the buck was standing when I shot, there was tracks everywhere because of all the deer that had been milling around in there for who knows how long, we looked and looked, no blood, not a drop, we fanned out, did circles, did criss/crosses, stood on our heads, crawled on the ground, you name it, we spent over 4 hours in that area and covered every inch of about a 2 acre chunk of ground, no blood, no dead deer. We stood there trying to figure out what the hell just happen, we both seen the buck drop, we watched all the escape routes to see if he came out, we waited and glassed all around to see if he was still alive. We went back to the spot where he stood when I shot, we replayed it over and over, the buck turned broadside, offered a good shot, I squeezed the trigger, buck drops into the brush, one thing that happened that I will mention later that is a one in a million circumstance that resulted in this ordeal.

We started walking to an area we figured he would have tried to get to if he would have tried to give us the slip, we seen a few of the does go this direction but not the buck, we gave it a shot anyway. We crossed a big meadow, looking for blood, walking in and out etc. etc., nothing, we kept going with ours eyes to the ground looking for something. Another couple hours had passed and we came to the bottom of a draw that skirted a big hill, we stood there for awhile at an old game trail that came out of the draw and went around the hill. We were about to accept the fact that I had just lost my first animal, I was gut sick, no tracks, no blood, no nothing. My brother who is retired SF, looked down and by his boot was a drop of blood the size of a pencil eraser on a small aspen leaf, dry, but not to dry. We started fanning out again, I got about 20 yards out onto that old game trail and found another drop, we walked about another 50 or so feet and another drop, just a drop every once in awhile and spread out 20 - 50 feet apart. We got a few hundred yards out around this hill, still on the game trail, now it was starting to open up, we were getting out of the rock and gravel for the most part and the trail was becoming more dirt. We could see where he was trying to go up the hill, he would go up 5-10 feet or so then looks like he would slide down, we could see what looked like someone dragging sticks in the dirt, we figured he had a bad leg . We kept following, more and more attempts to go up hill, then a disturbance in the dirt/gravel like he couldn't make it. We had went a good mile and a half or so around this hill when we came to a huge rock outcropping, we had still only seen a drop of blood here and there, but lots of attempts to get up the hill. We stopped, I told by brother, "I got a feeling he's right around this corner, in front of this bluff, he obviously can't get up it". I took my rifle off my shoulder and slowly went around the corner, there laying about 20 feet from me was a huge 4 by 4 with a head and face like a herford cow , just laying there looking at me, I raised my gun and the buck reared up on its haunches , I fired, hit him dead center in the chest, he dropped, I walked up to him, his nostrils where still flaring, I put another shot at close range into where I figured his heart was, dead. My heart was pounding, we both couldn't believe that thing had stood up like a horse, his hooves pawing at us, what the hell. Thats when my brother said, "look at his back legs", both back legs were gone at the knees, each still attached by a piece of hide! What had happened we figured was when I shot, the buck jumped up to mount a doe, just as I squeezed the trigger I seen him lunge forward, it was just enough to where my bullet hit both back legs(sawed them both off at the knees, chances of that?), it didn't bleed much because the bullet just went through bone and hide I guess. That buck had dropped into that  rock and tall brush that was maybe 3 feet tall or so and totally gave us the slip, while we were glassing all those does busting out in all directions, he must have been crawling on those stubs, he had went out a totally different way than we figured but eventually got to the spot we figured he would have tried to get to if we had wounded him. He had dropped into a swell in the ground and actually came down it almost straight towards us about 100 yards then hung a right behind a big bench, we never would have seen him and we never would have guessed him to go that way, we never noticed it until the next day when we went in to try and figure how that thing got from point A to point B without us seeing him, it had us both completely baffled. We got it figured out all right, we re-inacted the whole ordeal, topography can play tricks on the eyes when all hell is breaking loose, throw in rocks, thickets and benches and swells along with a will to live and thats how it all happened. If we hadn't have ended up at that exact spot where our paths came together and If my brother hadn't of found that little drop of blood in that spot that big ole buck would have been coyote food and I would still be sick about it to this day. We figured he crawled about 3 miles on those stubs, in a small swell  that was a totally unnoticeable from where we took the shot but it was enough for him to get out in a direction neither of us thought of or would have guessed. Thanks brother, thats a hunt I doubt either of us will ever forget

[baldopepper]

Good example of "memory bucks". You look at that rack on your wall (no matter how big or small) and those past trips start flashing back. Doesn't matter if it's one you got or one someone close to you got. As you get older and some of those close to you have passed on those memories can be bitter sweet, but mostly sweet.

[bigmacc]

Good example of "memory bucks". You look at that rack on your wall (no matter how big or small) and those past trips start flashing back. Doesn't matter if it's one you got or one someone close to you got. As you get older and some of those close to you have passed on those memories can be bitter sweet, but mostly sweet.

Absolutely... ..... One more of my favorites then I'm done. Your post just flared up another memory.

My great grandpa hunted into his 80,s, I was with him when he killed a few bucks in those later years of his life but one stands out. Grandpa had a spot he had found back in the 1920,s, he killed many deer in this spot(those on here that know me know this spot), once again a migration route that to this day only a few know of, its not easy to get to and even if you did stumble into this area you would walk right out as fast as you went in, you can't see anything! The spot has a vision area ofless than 30-50 yards in any given direction with thick jack pines that go on forever but, it just happens to be in a hell of a migration corridor, deer know they can pass through for miles, unseen, it truly is an amazing place.

Well, I took grandpa in there when he killed his last buck, his hands had increasingly become crippled by arthritis and this was going to be his last trip to "grandpas tree". We got in there a couple hours before sun up, started piling old limbs and brush around us where we sat at the base of the tree, something grandpa had did at least once or twice every season for over 70 years, building a blind. We got situated and had time to let things settle. It was about 20 or so minutes before shooting time when we started to hear limbs snapping in the jack pines below us. There are over 4 different routes that meet up to make up this particular corridor, some merge about a mile or so away then come in together in the jack pines, some converge in the jack pines and another comes in about a mile or so behind us then they all become one and end up in a winter range about 6-7 miles away as the crow flies.

We sat tight, grandpa had an opening in the makeshift blind to shoot through, we could hear the deer getting closer as they were getting ready to come out of the trees about 30 yards in front of us. About 12 or so does came out first along with a few small bucks, they split and went around us on both sides about 40-50 yards away, then more, and more, somewhere around 70 or so had made their way around us and disappeared again into the jungle when we heard more limbs cracking and snapping, although this sounded a little more serious this time. Out walked 2 big 4 by 4,s, both slowly went to the trail to the right of us, grandpa readied for the shot and dropped the trailing buck with a shot from his 270 and his old Redfield 4 power scope that he had used for what seemed like forever (I still have that old 270 and the scope).

That was the last buck he ever killed, I posted a picture of him with that buck on here and his hands looked like claws, it was a dandy of a buck for sure. I wasn't there when he killed his first of many, many bucks, but I was honored and blessed to have been there for his last....Thanks for conjuring up another great memory for me baldopepper

Once again for those that know me, this is the place my dad took my mom when they were first married, those that know me know the story well, my dad used to love to tell it, dad said a group of deer with a big 6 by 5 had come out of the jack pines, mom was set with her 30-30, she ejected 5 rounds on the big fella as he bounded off into the thick, never once pulling the trigger , its also the spot my dad had a doe come in behind him, sniffed him through the blind and blew snot all over the back of his neck , lots of old memories revolve around that tree, all are priceless.