Hunting Season 2012
Posted: Fri Jan 25, 2013 12:46 pm
I have no excuse as to why I haven’t been on the forum in months, other than it was hunting season, then the holidays, then I got the flu and I only have a pc at work… blah bah blah.. Its great to see everyone’s successful hunting rendez vous and all the big fishes that have been caught. WTG everyone!
Figured id give a summary of the rest of my 2012 hunting season. It was a long fall. Didn’t do much hunting in VT. Was happy and satisfied with the doe I got during archery and felt that since the deer were sparse where I hunt from lack of food sources, I spent the majority of my time hunting in NY where I knew I would actually see deer in a sit. I had set my hopes high this season. I became disgustingly sickly obsessed with chasing one particular buck. This was my year to get a big one (in my mind). The first time I saw him. It was in Sept. He was grazing in a dusky field. A tall tined 8 pointer. Little would I know I would spend the next 3 months after him. The second time I saw him. I was sitting in my stand overlooking a large field. I just ran in fresh from the ride down from VT. It was quite late by my standard for sneaking into a stand. I could get away with it in this one though. It was 3:00 the last weekend of Oct (right after the return from moose hunting honeymoon). The field was empty. I turned around to secure my harness then turned to sit down and I look up and at 200 yards away he stood with 2 does. They ate for 5 min or so then he nagged on the does sending them scattering into the woods with him in tow.
Then I got a trail cam picture of him.
Then a week later I got another picture sent to me from a neighboring hunter of him.
It’s now the first weekend of Nov. Things are heating up. I situate myself into a new stand in an ambush location. Right away a doe toting 4 skippers comes underneath. Perfect. Not too long after a feisty fork comes around. He checks a scrape on the other side of the scrub brush. I grunt to him a few times then he meanders my way.
He walks under my stand and makes a scrape along the field edge. Around 9am a 6pt comes in. Heads right my way. He stops at 50 yards, browses and smells. I grunt to him. Ill take him if he comes closer. He didn’t. He knew something wasn’t quite right and snuck off in the direction he came from. That afternoon I sit in another stand. At 3:30 a decent 8 comes out. He browses the alfalfa field. He inches closer and closer. I get ready, I draw back, 25 yards oh sick! I release. Thrat! He takes off like a rocket, he zig zags, runs tail down, hit, dead deer runnin! Oh smack! Buck down! Oh wait. Psyche! I realize I see my arrow on the ground and its not bloody. My heart sinks. No way that just happened. I climb down. I inspect my tallow soaked deer stinking arrow. No blood on the ground. Nothing. I wait til the next morning. Nothing. Seriously? Major bummer.
The following weekend was not dull to say the least. I pass up doe after doe, spike after fork. Waiting for my ghost. It was 10:30am on a Sunday. It had rained. The wind was so perfect for my stand. Right from the south. I had waited all season to have this wind for this spot. The sun had just come out. I am overlooking a field where 60 yards in it breaks over a knoll. I open my eyes. I see a giant white rack bouncing methodically over the crest of the knoll. Doop dee doop dee doo in the middle of the day in the middle of a giant field there he wandered. There he stopped at 60 yards and stared in my direction… dead… down… wind… He was going to come right under my stand. Just like I had imagined he would! Now, I buy stock in scent control. Clothes washed weekly, stored in bins, blah blah blah… I even buy scent free conditioner! Lip gloss! Scent Lok clothes (junk). Im serious about stench. When it comes down to it. They still smell you. Period. You stink. What stinks more is what happened next. He turned around, tucked his tail, tucked his head down and tip toed right back to where he came from. Gone. It was SO cool.
The following weekend was rifle opener. Ill get him with the rifle I thought to myself. Ill just get whatever I can with the bow now! So I took more week days off from work to feed my addiction and get a few more bow hunting days in before the deer all get scared nocturnal. Buck were seeking does and grunting up the woods everywhere so I decide to play with a decoy. I call her Miss D. Shes a whole ton of fun. Here’s a spike that came to check her out.
Later on that same day I had a small 6 chasing some does in a field across the hedgerow from me. I grunt a few times and got his attention. He comes bounding over. Stops at the hedgerow and sees Miss D. He comes running over and stops right over her at 25 yards and stares. I draw my bow back and set an arrow flying right over his back. Like seriously? C’mon now. He runs back across the hedgerow and stops. Duh… geeze… what was that? Hmmm.. grunt grunt grunt away after those does he went. Urrrggghhh….
Then the next morning im in my climber. I see nothing until 9:30am. Crunch crunch crunch. You know the sound of a buck. The way that they walk. Theres just something about it. You know. Here comes a nice tall antlered buck. I grunt. He veers my way. He comes to an oh so perfect 15 yard shot. He walks behind a tree, I draw, he stops and looks me right in the eye. His vitals, directly behind that big ol oak tree. Oh…. Hmmmm…. It’s a stare draw down. I hold. He stares. I hold. He stares for what seems as an eternity. I cant stand it. He looks away and I let my bow down. He spooks and runs 50 yards away. He wasn’t too phased by the situation. He browses around then disappears into some pines. About an hour later I hear some grunts. I see a doe and skipper being harassed by him coming out of the pines. She and her skipper are headed back down the same trail he was on. Sweet!!!!!!! I get ready. Im holding a bleat can in my right hand. I grab my bow with my left. I go to put my can in my pocket. Deer are 30 yards closing the distance behind my draw trees. CLANK! Clankity clank clank. I seemed to have missed by pocket. Those things sure are loud on the base of a Summit climber. Off they all go. Now its just bad luck! I shoulda never passed up that buck that was under my stand on day 1. Now I just wanted to throw my bow and cry!
So rifle season came. On the second day I saw that 8 I was after. He was trotting after some does through the woods on the neighbors. He stopped for a brief moment. A moment too brief for me to pull up the gun. Off he went. The season drew on and the bucks grew sparse. Either shot already, nocturnal, on lock down mode. I had doe permits but no interest in filling them yet. What if the buck was going to come out behind them? Ill just wait until later on and tag a doe. That’s all that was in my head. Back and forth I drove to NY. Always leaving with my tags. As the season progressed even the does that always came out didn’t come out. Uh O. Will I eat my NY tags this year?
Muzzleloader season was coming to a close. My last day to tag a deer was looking awful gloomy. There were some does about 300yards away on the far hedgerow. I was waiting and hoping they would meander closer to the middle of the field. Usually they come out, feed in the field and move my way en route to the cut corn field on the other side. Sometimes they just hang up. As daylight faded a scrappy 5 pointer made an appearance into the field. He stopped and looked around and began to wander across the field to where I was sitting on the other side. Oh sweet! He got to all of 40 yards from me and didn’t make it another 20. Victory. Down to the wire in mid Dec. Its not the big buck of my dreams nor is it the ghost I was seeking but hes mine nonetheless.
Still obsessed with bowhunting even after it totally screwed me this season... oh wait.. its really my fault.... Its going to be a long wait until October 2013. Guess ill have to try xtra xtra hard next year for that big one. Practice practice practice! So much can go so wrong when bowhunting but its just so exciting.
Heres a few pix of misc deer from the trail cam and the stand from this past season except for the first one. Thats out my bedroom window at my folks. As far as that 8 goes I heard he was still well alive but you never know. Ill see him next year if he is.
Figured id give a summary of the rest of my 2012 hunting season. It was a long fall. Didn’t do much hunting in VT. Was happy and satisfied with the doe I got during archery and felt that since the deer were sparse where I hunt from lack of food sources, I spent the majority of my time hunting in NY where I knew I would actually see deer in a sit. I had set my hopes high this season. I became disgustingly sickly obsessed with chasing one particular buck. This was my year to get a big one (in my mind). The first time I saw him. It was in Sept. He was grazing in a dusky field. A tall tined 8 pointer. Little would I know I would spend the next 3 months after him. The second time I saw him. I was sitting in my stand overlooking a large field. I just ran in fresh from the ride down from VT. It was quite late by my standard for sneaking into a stand. I could get away with it in this one though. It was 3:00 the last weekend of Oct (right after the return from moose hunting honeymoon). The field was empty. I turned around to secure my harness then turned to sit down and I look up and at 200 yards away he stood with 2 does. They ate for 5 min or so then he nagged on the does sending them scattering into the woods with him in tow.
Then I got a trail cam picture of him.
Then a week later I got another picture sent to me from a neighboring hunter of him.
It’s now the first weekend of Nov. Things are heating up. I situate myself into a new stand in an ambush location. Right away a doe toting 4 skippers comes underneath. Perfect. Not too long after a feisty fork comes around. He checks a scrape on the other side of the scrub brush. I grunt to him a few times then he meanders my way.
He walks under my stand and makes a scrape along the field edge. Around 9am a 6pt comes in. Heads right my way. He stops at 50 yards, browses and smells. I grunt to him. Ill take him if he comes closer. He didn’t. He knew something wasn’t quite right and snuck off in the direction he came from. That afternoon I sit in another stand. At 3:30 a decent 8 comes out. He browses the alfalfa field. He inches closer and closer. I get ready, I draw back, 25 yards oh sick! I release. Thrat! He takes off like a rocket, he zig zags, runs tail down, hit, dead deer runnin! Oh smack! Buck down! Oh wait. Psyche! I realize I see my arrow on the ground and its not bloody. My heart sinks. No way that just happened. I climb down. I inspect my tallow soaked deer stinking arrow. No blood on the ground. Nothing. I wait til the next morning. Nothing. Seriously? Major bummer.
The following weekend was not dull to say the least. I pass up doe after doe, spike after fork. Waiting for my ghost. It was 10:30am on a Sunday. It had rained. The wind was so perfect for my stand. Right from the south. I had waited all season to have this wind for this spot. The sun had just come out. I am overlooking a field where 60 yards in it breaks over a knoll. I open my eyes. I see a giant white rack bouncing methodically over the crest of the knoll. Doop dee doop dee doo in the middle of the day in the middle of a giant field there he wandered. There he stopped at 60 yards and stared in my direction… dead… down… wind… He was going to come right under my stand. Just like I had imagined he would! Now, I buy stock in scent control. Clothes washed weekly, stored in bins, blah blah blah… I even buy scent free conditioner! Lip gloss! Scent Lok clothes (junk). Im serious about stench. When it comes down to it. They still smell you. Period. You stink. What stinks more is what happened next. He turned around, tucked his tail, tucked his head down and tip toed right back to where he came from. Gone. It was SO cool.
The following weekend was rifle opener. Ill get him with the rifle I thought to myself. Ill just get whatever I can with the bow now! So I took more week days off from work to feed my addiction and get a few more bow hunting days in before the deer all get scared nocturnal. Buck were seeking does and grunting up the woods everywhere so I decide to play with a decoy. I call her Miss D. Shes a whole ton of fun. Here’s a spike that came to check her out.
Later on that same day I had a small 6 chasing some does in a field across the hedgerow from me. I grunt a few times and got his attention. He comes bounding over. Stops at the hedgerow and sees Miss D. He comes running over and stops right over her at 25 yards and stares. I draw my bow back and set an arrow flying right over his back. Like seriously? C’mon now. He runs back across the hedgerow and stops. Duh… geeze… what was that? Hmmm.. grunt grunt grunt away after those does he went. Urrrggghhh….
Then the next morning im in my climber. I see nothing until 9:30am. Crunch crunch crunch. You know the sound of a buck. The way that they walk. Theres just something about it. You know. Here comes a nice tall antlered buck. I grunt. He veers my way. He comes to an oh so perfect 15 yard shot. He walks behind a tree, I draw, he stops and looks me right in the eye. His vitals, directly behind that big ol oak tree. Oh…. Hmmmm…. It’s a stare draw down. I hold. He stares. I hold. He stares for what seems as an eternity. I cant stand it. He looks away and I let my bow down. He spooks and runs 50 yards away. He wasn’t too phased by the situation. He browses around then disappears into some pines. About an hour later I hear some grunts. I see a doe and skipper being harassed by him coming out of the pines. She and her skipper are headed back down the same trail he was on. Sweet!!!!!!! I get ready. Im holding a bleat can in my right hand. I grab my bow with my left. I go to put my can in my pocket. Deer are 30 yards closing the distance behind my draw trees. CLANK! Clankity clank clank. I seemed to have missed by pocket. Those things sure are loud on the base of a Summit climber. Off they all go. Now its just bad luck! I shoulda never passed up that buck that was under my stand on day 1. Now I just wanted to throw my bow and cry!
So rifle season came. On the second day I saw that 8 I was after. He was trotting after some does through the woods on the neighbors. He stopped for a brief moment. A moment too brief for me to pull up the gun. Off he went. The season drew on and the bucks grew sparse. Either shot already, nocturnal, on lock down mode. I had doe permits but no interest in filling them yet. What if the buck was going to come out behind them? Ill just wait until later on and tag a doe. That’s all that was in my head. Back and forth I drove to NY. Always leaving with my tags. As the season progressed even the does that always came out didn’t come out. Uh O. Will I eat my NY tags this year?
Muzzleloader season was coming to a close. My last day to tag a deer was looking awful gloomy. There were some does about 300yards away on the far hedgerow. I was waiting and hoping they would meander closer to the middle of the field. Usually they come out, feed in the field and move my way en route to the cut corn field on the other side. Sometimes they just hang up. As daylight faded a scrappy 5 pointer made an appearance into the field. He stopped and looked around and began to wander across the field to where I was sitting on the other side. Oh sweet! He got to all of 40 yards from me and didn’t make it another 20. Victory. Down to the wire in mid Dec. Its not the big buck of my dreams nor is it the ghost I was seeking but hes mine nonetheless.
Still obsessed with bowhunting even after it totally screwed me this season... oh wait.. its really my fault.... Its going to be a long wait until October 2013. Guess ill have to try xtra xtra hard next year for that big one. Practice practice practice! So much can go so wrong when bowhunting but its just so exciting.
Heres a few pix of misc deer from the trail cam and the stand from this past season except for the first one. Thats out my bedroom window at my folks. As far as that 8 goes I heard he was still well alive but you never know. Ill see him next year if he is.