Memories are one of the best things about hunting. I will throw one out here.
It was the 1973 or 1974 season and my cousin and I hiked up an old overgrown road that ran beside a huge bean field about 20 foot in. The deer had been using the road heavily and there was a lot of rubs and a few scrapes its whole length.
Well I reached my stand which was kind of like a natural bench where two huge trees had fallen over almost on top of each other. I sat on the bottom one and leaned back against the upper one while my cousin continued on further in to his stand. As I sat there the wind started to pick up pretty heavy blowing from behind me straight across the road and out into the field.
The downed trees acted as a great wind block which made staying warm a little easier. As the sun started to rise I slowly scanned and listened up and down the overgrown road the deer used. Nothing! An hour passed and except for the occasional bird and squirrel I saw nothing. I started to really relax now and seemed more in tune with what was around me.
The wind slowed down quite a bit so I sat a bit more erect and could no see over the log behind me. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard something coming, but it was behind me! It was pretty thick back in there, but I was able to make out three doe at a steady trot as they passed. Well knowing it was the very beginning of the gun season I figured there was a good chance a buck may be hot on there trail.
I slowly stood up and turned around to face the travel lane we were unaware of before, the good thing was I could still see both ways up and down the overgrown road, but I concentrated on where the doe had just passed. With in two or three minutes I saw a HUGE rack moving along the does path, the laurels were so thick that was all I could see was the rack! Then the rack dissappeared! I then realized I was shaking like a leaf, I told myself now is no time for buck fever calm down and think!!!
Well the rack popped back up and he trotted forward. I had quit shaking and picked out the only clear opening I could see that he would pass through. The rack dropped again, I pulled the gun up and pointed it in the direction of the opening, everything started to go in slow motion. Once again the rack popped up, I kept thinking man that is a huge rack, I wish I could see him! He trotted forward again and stopped dead square in the opening and put his nose down to smell where the doe had passed! BOOM! BOOM! I shot one barrel after the other knowing that would be my only open shot. He sprung forward high into the air and out of sight!
I am thinking "My God I could not have missed at that range" I jumped into the overgrown road ejected the two empties and slapped in two more loads of double 00 buckshot, closed it up and prayed that he would come out into the overgrown road! My heart was pounding 90 mph, I thought it would come out of my chest.
Nothing!!! Man I missed the buck of a life time, then I heard some rustling over where I had shot at him. I busted through the laurel and when I hit the spot I had shot at him there he was within 6 foot of where I had shot lifting his head for the last time. He lowered his head slowly and I saw his chest expand then drop with a loud rush of air. It was over.
I tapped his eye with the gun barrel and then kneeled beside him, layed my hand on his side and said my prayer. Then I stood up and stared for a minute in disbeleif, what an animal! Well I walked back to the overgrown road, emptied the gun and leaned it against the trees I had been sitting on and went back and started to drag this monster back to the road. Right after I almost busted a gut yanking him over the two fallen trees, Tim (my cousin) shows up. At this point in time Tim had killed more deer in his short 30 years than you could shake a stick at. Tim was amazed at the size of him. Well we dressed him and proceeded on the long drag out.
He dressed out at 175 pounds, the base of the rack was as thick as my wrist and he had a very symetrical tall tined rack with 8 points, he was 21 3/4 inches on the inside of his beam, and measuring from the top of his head to the tip of the g2's was 19 1/2 inches. I had him mounted with a full shoulder mount. I lost him in a house fire on July the 9th, 1982. I have often wondered what he would have scored B&C, but I guess I will never know.
The Tazman