Ok guys and gals bare with me because this is going to be a little long-winded. Well I took close to three weeks off so I could hunt the rut and also do a little firearms hunting with my father and some other friends. On Nov 9th, my close friend Mike and I hit the ground running. We finally got into the woods on Veteran's Day, Nov 11th. 30 minutes into our morning sit I here that oh so familiar sound of the crack and echo of his muzzle loader well over a mile away. Around midday I make my way to his stand. He shot a really nice 16-17 inch spread 8pt. He said the buck was hot on a does trail. So we get back to the house and get his deer situated and hung up and we hit the woods again. Along about 3pm I'm good and set in one of my primetime rut spots which consists of an oak flat which runs into a steep hill, a parcel of loblolly pines, a cut corn field, and and a super-thick creek bottom. It's basically a whitetail hunter's dream, it's where 5 major terrain features come together. Around 345pm I catch movement out of the corner of my eye...... it's three does moving at a trot coming right to me. And just as soon as I focus in on the does I catch antlers coming right in behind them. It's a good buck!!!!! I have to sit tight and commence to watch him run these does around this oak flat for about 30 minutes before I get a good shot at him. Finally he gets broadside and I drop him in his tracks. He was a really nice 6pt with a little over an 18inch spread (pic sucks). Looking back, I probably would have passed him up had it not been for the fact that it was my first time in the woods all year so I let him have it. So I spend the rest of ML season passing up everything I saw holding out for a big boy which there are several on our property. However it wasn't in the cards for me to kill another monster this year during ML season.

So we get to the firearms opener, and yes we run dogs.....very good dogs. The firearms opener is always special for me because most of the time it is the first time during the holiday season that I see my father. My father has been skunked for the last few years. Don't be fooled though, when he was a younger man I saw him make some absolutely spectacular shots on deer(and doves too). Well this year was the end of his dry spell. The dogs pushed a 4pt to him first thing in the morning and he dropped it. Normally we like to shoot bigger bucks but, hey, this was my old man and no one said a word to him. I was so proud of him. He dropped it in one shot and he was tickled pink and I was so happy for him. So we get to the last hunt of the day and my buddy, mike and I are beside each other over looking a big cutover bottom. A decent 6 pt comes barreling through the bottom. I light him up and he falls twice and gets back up and kind of staggers off and Mike kills him about 100 yds away from me. That was probably one of the best days of hunting I've had in a while. The last pic is my mount of the giant I killed last year. Boy, he was a lot bigger that I remembered. Hope this wasn't too painful to read.



VA