Born with Buck Fever

First, in order for anyone to appreciate this achievement, I think I need to start with a little bit of background on my life long quest for my first antlered buck.

When I was a youngster growing up in St. Louis I didn’t have anyone to take me hunting. No one in my family hunted and I had no idea where to start. My interest in hunting was born from my attraction to guns. As a kid I confounded my parents by asking for gun magazines. This was when I was really young–still in the single digit age.

Sadly around this time in my life, the tragedies of school shootings like Columbine occurred and my parents were reluctant to introduce me to gun sports; especially considering the fact that they didn’t have any experience with guns.   However, they said that my passion couldn’t be dismissed and agreed to support me. Eventually this passion grew to include whitetail hunting.  I began to hunt them when I reached high school.

During high school I was very involved with sports. I was wrestling team captain and started varsity on the football team. These obligations really hurt my time spent in the woods. However in my senior year I got the chance to hunt opening deer weekend in northern Missouri.

Talk about “saving the best for last”. In the last 30 minutes of the last day remaining in the season I harvested a button buck at 10 yards.  He just happened to be running through a grass field directly in front of me. He appeared so quickly, just as I was trying to scare up anything due to the time ticking down. There’s just nothing like your first deer! I was so proud of that deer that I didn’t stop smiling for weeks.

The next big step in my life was college. I enrolled here at Mizzou and that was when I really got hardcore about hunting and got a bow.

Even with the strides I’d made on my own in hunting and now as a big college student, those first few years hunting while at college were difficult to say the least.  I was still in the same jam and had no one to teach or mentor me to improve my hunting skills.   It was all trial and error. I hunted almost every day of the season passing in and out of my room at the dorms to hunt.  I would walk out of the dorm at 4am in full camo as the drunk frat boys and sorority girls were attempting to stumble back to their beds. I had many a laugh at their conditions and I’m sure they had a few laughs at me. To this day, I still think I had the better idea.

Working on my own and committed  as ever, those first three years at college brought about success with a few more gun kills but in my heart I  still had not achieved the goal…I had no bucks and no bow kills.

You know what they say about timing; finally in early October 2009 I found myself in the right place at the right time. I set up on a tree line where there was a transition area between a bedding spot and a corn field.  My mind was wandering as I sat contemplating the career fair I had to go to the next day which of course would interfere with my day in the field.  Just then, I caught movement headed my way. A few does slipped out of the brush like ghosts at 50 yards. It amazed me how quietly and gracefully they moved as I watched them head my way. After debating as to whether or not to take my shot, a big doe stopped broadside at 15 yards. This made the choice very easy for me. My Rage broad head tore through her and stuck in the ground on the other side. “I had done it!!” but it wasn’t going to be that simple with rain rolling in, but no matter, I began to track. After a few hours and 300+ yards I finally found her. Again I felt the overwhelming pride that only a hunter can know.  One of my goals had just been fulfilled.

Now, forward to November 4^th 2011, where the excitement really begins.  The day was not the best for hunting. I was desperate to get to the field to have success in the kill but wasn’t very optimistic.

It was over 60 degrees as I put on my camo and headed to the stand. I was hoping it would cool down early and justify the full body suit I chose to wear, but that was not the case. I was sweating “like a pig” by the time I got to my stand. To cover my stink, I chose to spray down a second time with de-scent and placed my deer decoy in the best spot.  Then I drenched a generous amount of buck urine to the decoy hoping to anger the nearby “Booner”  (Boone & Crockett) and make him come on in. (I thought to myself if I smelled like that buck urine I would be mad too… back to the story.)

After over an hour of sitting nothing had wandered out and frustration was nearing an all time level.  Just about the same level that I have been experiencing this season as a Mizzou football fan!  

Suddenly the hour seemed short as an 8 pointer popped out of the brush at about 200 yards. My blood ran with a renewed vigor as I reached for the buck growl. When I called to him he began to trot my direction. When he got to 100 yards he stopped like he had seen a ghost. Huh?  He stared at my decoy for every bit of 20 minutes before moving off to my left.  Curious?  As I glassed him it all began to make sense as I noticed another shape back in the draw moving towards him. It was an even bigger buck.

When the new buck on the block moved forward and out of the brush my heart just about gave out. He was a much bigger deer. His beautiful 8 point frame glistened in the sun as he moved. I again reached for the grunt call and began a slightly aggressive dialogue with the bruiser. I snort wheezed at him. Then he put on a show as he walked to a nearby tree and began to rake it mercilessly with his rack then with a snort he walked away.

 I was as excited as a 13 year old girl at a Justin Bieber concert! He began to walk out of sight and I thought my hunt was done. Just as I was trying to calm down and think of moving on, I heard something coming at me. At first I thought it was a squirrel. But when I heard the “squirrel” start to work a scrape and rub a tree I knew it had to be “him” returning. (It’s funny how much I pray to God when a big deer is involved; I asked for just one chance to shoot.) I got it under control. He stepped out of the brush in front of me at 25 yards. I didn’t hesitate. I drew my bow as I saw him start to clear and let the arrow fly.

Success! I was so excited I lost it! I threw my fist in the air like a conquering general and desperately looked around hoping to see that someone had been watching. Alas no luck there. No crowds, no applause, no touchdown…just my dream fulfilled!

The next morning came and I had the adrenalin going to look for him. Long story short I tracked for 200+ yards following sparse blood but finally found him in a cedar thicket. The shot had been perfect, just behind the shoulder with a double lung hit. It’s amazing what a rutting buck can take during early November. He wouldn’t be a “Booner” nor a potential “Pope and Young” deer, but he is my first buck EVER, and I got him with my bow. He is the 4^th bow kill of the year for me including 2 does and a turkey.  I couldn’t be more proud!