The weather forecast said the temp would be around 40 yesterday, morning, but when I collected the SD card out of the game cam, I was bundled up and just knew that the temp was colder than that. The game cam snapped this “shot” of me lumbering up for the card and, sure enough, the temp was 32!

Mickey Donahoo, my neighbor and softball buddy, and I had gone out before sun up yesterday morning on our annual doe hunt. Having lots of doe, we donate one, or more, to needy folks in the County. Layla and I provide the doe and Mickey shoots them with his .204 Ruger, pops them in the head, with no wasted meat!

Around 7:00 AM, two doe had come into the feeder Mickey was guarding, but a big buck with heavy antlers showed up chasing them off. Since my buck ticket had been punched, I had told him to shoot a buck, but he passed on this one.

Over in the tripod stand where last month I shot my buck, see my post of November 14, 2010, “[Cedar Fever vs. Hunting]”, nothing happened until 7:45, then a yearling showed up, just browsing along. Then a big doe came running along, head down and I got ready. Sure enough, she was being chased by a spike and raising my gun, I cross-haired the spike. But, seeing movement in my peripheral vision, I didn’t take the shot, but glanced to my right and saw that I’d been “made” by another doe that I’d not noticed before. She was standing with head up, looking right at me and the yearling spike and other doe melted into the thick stuff.

Frustrated at not taking the shot, I thought I’d try to get the spike to show himself and I issued a challenge series of grunts, grrrunt, grrrunt, grrrunt. No spike, but less than two minutes later, out stomped a huge, 10 pointer, the second biggest deer I’d seen on the ranch and I mean he stomped out, neck swollen, tall rack and all, looking for a fight!

Right away I put the scope on the buck, ready to shoot and up jumped my conscience. Being a Christian and a lawful person, one, my buck ticket had been punched earlier and two, Mickey who is a good, Christian man, would be put in a delicate spot. He is also the best taxidermist around and would have to lie about the buck, so I looked and didn’t shoot!

As the buck was walking away I put my gun down, pop, Mickey’s .204 Ruger, broke the spell and I knew he had gotten a doe. Climbing down out of the blind, I hurried over to Mickey’s stand and he confirmed my thought.

Here’s a pic Mickey, his doe and his .204 Ruger.

My seven deer hunts were spread out over 33 years and my last previous deer hunt, in 1978, had been with Randy, when he bagged a spike on Sapelo Island. When you’ve crowded 7 hunts into 33 years, it’s easy to remember them all! However, over this same time period, my dove, quail, goose and duck hunting had taken me all over the U.S. and even a few stops in Mexico.

Moving back to the Houston Metro area in 1979 and immediately finding some nearby areas that my boys and I took advantage of, see my March 25, 2009 post, “[Woodcock ‘ Lakewood Forrest, Section 5]” and even quicker getting on a 3,600 acre goose and duck lease, see “[A Double, Double]”, February 5, 2008. We had plenty of hunting, but my brother-in-law, Jim Buck, and I wanted to take our boys, Brad and Randy, and his son, David on a family hunt, one problem though, Jim’s hunting lease, a really good one west of Lampassas, didn’t allow family style hunting.

Finally, in 1980, before the season opened, Jim found a place outside of Llano that offered a family style hunt and we reserved the second weekend of the season for our foray. The place, 2,000 acres, on top of a mesa, was limited to two families and shooting areas were clearly spelled out. One problem though, to reach the top you needed four wheel drive and, as you would guess, we didn’t find this out until we were staring up the steep, rocky, some might call it a road, track to the top.

In late October we made all the arrangements that included paying the rancher one-half in advance (no refunds) and, believe it or not, this was still 1980 and the “steep” terms left a little to be desired! Come the appointed date, a Friday afternoon, we found ourselves staring up the steep slope. With a 4WD truck, the slope wasn’t a problem for Jim, but for us, we had grave doubts that our 2WD, Suburban, loaded to the gills, would make the grade?

Huffing and puffing, we made it to the top and figured the big load in the Suburban held the rear end down and gave us the traction needed. Our allotted hunting space was on the east side of the mesa and while driving over to it, with my .22 pistol, I potted 2 quail, “Camp meat,” I told the boys.

While the boys went out to hunt, Jim and I made camp and started supper, steaks, baked potatoes, green chilies and onions and the quail,. Before dark we heard a boom, fairly far off and figured the hunting group on the other side of the mesa had gotten a shot. After dark, our boys came in, followed by a stranger, a high school boy, like Randy.

Very politely, he asked if we’d come over and help them find the deer, a spike, they had shot. We loaded everyone up on to Jim’s 4WD and motored over to the other side of the mesa and within 30 minutes, had found the deer. For our help, we declined the offer of a drink, and went back to our side and had a late, cold supper.

Saturday morning, up before the sun, wolfed down Twinkies and coffee and Jim and the boys, flashlights bobbing, went out to hunt. Me, not being sold on deer hunting, stayed in, with a borrowed rifle, and guarded the camp, reading the latest tom Clancy book, “Patriot Games”. Come sun up, it started to mist, so I pulled in under the tent flap. Soon, it started raining big drops, causing our hunters to come in. It continued raining through lunch and we thought we’d better get a weather report. The news said that the rain, caused by an overriding condition in the upper atmosphere, would continue through Monday, maybe Tuesday.

Based on the weather report, we decided to call it a hunt and get on down the hill before the road washed out. Getting down the steep, incline, with the loaded Suburban, was more difficult this time. Putting the gears in Lo range, and liberally using the brake, I made it down, while the boys, for their safety, walked and yes, they had ponchos on.

My seventh hunt was a wet, flop! For my family, food and hunting rights had cost over $300. 00 and, for me being tight, this was unacceptable. Driving home I thought to myself, If my boys want to hunt deer, I’ll have to find a family lease. Little did I know, less than a year later, that in the fall of 1981, I’d find the perfect hunting lease that we would stay on for the next 11 years!

On my first deer hunt I was 12 years old and for the next 23 years I would only go on a total of 5 deer hunts, but my time in between wasn’t wasted because, some of the time with my two son’s, Brad and Randy, along, we’d hunted dove, quail ducks, geese and fished to my (and our) heart’s content all over our wonderful Country. My last post mentioned that in the fall of 1978, the week before deer season opened, I’d killed a buck in self defense, (see my post [“A Fight To The Finish”]). Then, two weeks later, going deer hunting (my 5th hunt), now I was going again in the same year, because Randy and I had been selected to participate in the Georgia Game and Fish’s, Sapelo Island Youth Hunt.

This was Randy’s hunt and we had a big time, the (State provided) food was good, the fellowship was wonderful and best of all, Randy got a nice deer. These deer on Sapelo Island, are Key deer, mostly found in Florida, that rarely weigh over 110#. However, now I’ve heard that feral hogs almost outnumber the deer with some of them going over 250#. Now both hogs and deer can be harvested!

The whole story of this hunt can be found on my July 24, 2007 post “[Buck Fever]”. In the story, Randy’s lows and highs are the same that every hunter goes through based on hits and misses, but seeing his reactions up close, gave me memories that I’ll cherish for all of my life!

After this hunt, the seed was definitely planted in my mind that, enjoying it or not, I’d better take up deer hunting.

It was 5 years before my next deer hunt and moving to Georgia in late 1974, with the move, my new job and getting settled in, there was little opportunity to hunt much, only a couple of excursions to try and find a few quail, was about all. By the opening of quail season in 1975, I had met new hunting buddies and was immersed in the sport. However, on some of the quail haunts, we would regularly see a lot of doe and even a few, nice bucks.

But by the mid point of deer season in 1977, the pressure was really getting on me to take up deer hunting! Brad, a junior in high school, had just arrowed his first deer, a doe and Randy, 11 years old, and I had applied for, but had not been drawn, for the Georgia Game and Fish, Special Youth Hunt, held on Sapelo, Island.

Hunting season in 1978 rolled around, Randy and I applied for, and were drawn for the Sapelo Island hunt. Brad’s high school football team was rolling toward, what we hoped for was, a State championship. My quail hunting got off to a roaring start, see my October 29, 2009 post, “[A Fight To The Finish]” and I had killed my first buck (in hand to hand combat).

Two weeks after the deer incident, my neighbor and friend, Mark Greenberg and I, both had a day off and we decided that we’d go deer hunting, this would be my fifth deer hunt, but Mark was already very experienced. The week before we had helped Brad set up a tree-stand along a small creek in some real thick cover, outside of Stockbridge, an hours drive south of Atlanta. There was a well used deer trail that ran along beside the small, stream and Brad’s stand was within arrow distance.

Before sun up, Mark and I drove my Dodge Power Wagon, down to the hunting spot and walked in through the woods to Brad’s stand and I volunteered Mark to climb up the stand, while I walked a hundred yards down the creek. He was packing his .243 and I had my 12 Ga. shotgun, loaded with OO bucks. Something told me that this would be a “real” hunt!

By 8:00 AM we hadn’t seen a deer, I was day dreaming a little, and all of a sudden, across the creek, this big doe almost ran over me I thought, not even being able to get my shotgun up, she was heading up the creek at a lope toward Mark and Boom, his rifle exploded! There was all kind of thrashing around, then silence and Mark yelled out, “Got her!”

Taking his exclamation as the “all clear”, I ran down to him and the doe lay between us, shot through the heart. Holding the deer down while he field dressed it, he remarked, “This venison will taste really good!” Both of us got suitably bloodied and not washing the blood off until we dropped the doe off at a processor, got back home before noon.

This turned out to be a “real” deer hunt and I kinda’ liked it!

In the November 24, 2010. Goldthwaite Eagle, Steve Bridges the Editor said, “I have already had quite a few landowners willing to host Wounded Warriors for a doe and spike hunt in January. We are still in the planning phase. But I am proud of all of the Mills County landowners willing to serve our Country!”

This writer was one of the many to sign up and volunteer to provide a hunt. It will be a nice, post Christmas gift to some of our Wounded Warriors. These troopers have made tremendous, sacrifices, many with horrible wounds and amputations, others with wounds that you can’t see, like PTSD, these sacrifices made for everyone in our Country and this is the least that some of us in Mills County, Texas can do to show our appreciation for them.

The Mills County, Wounded Warrior hunt will be held during the State’s Special Late General Session, January 3-16 and antlerless and spike bucks are the only deer that can be taken. The dates for the hunt haven’t been selected, but this hunt will provide benefits to both the hunters and the landowners; excess game can be harvested while, at the same time, providing good, outdoor recreation for our troopers. It’ll be a win-win for everyone!

Leave a comment and let me know what you think about our Wounded Warrior hunting project. Across the country, who else will hold, or is contemplating, holding one of these?

Now, it was only 2 years between deer hunts and as far as I was concerned, the wait wasn’t worth it, but I’d better get with the program. Because, earlier in the deer season, my 8 year, old son, Brad, had shot and helped his Pap-Paw Buck clean his first deer.

Getting a nice promotion with the large computer company meant that I would have a staff that reported to me. At the insistence of one of my staff, who also happened to be a long time friend, Bob Lindsey, I accepted his invitation to drive out to his ranch that was on I-10, between Columbus and Alleyton, Texas and shoot one of the many bucks that, he said, literally infested the place. He also asked Jim Rodgers to come out and get one too. Jim also worked for me so he and I planned to hunt at Bob’s in the morning then drive south on F.M. Road 102 to Eagle Lake and hunt some ducks on another friend, Sonny Simpson’s, place.

Taking the relatively short drive from our homes, in west Houston, out I-10 to Bob’s ranch, we arrived a good hour before sun up. He had a nice breakfast ready for us and after eating we headed out to our stands, or so I thought. My “stand” was seated on the ground against a post oak tree and I thought, Huh, this is no way to treat your boss! Having borrowed my brother’s M-1 carbine, I just knew that I would get a shot at a buck. Bob had cautioned us, since he didn’t have any doe permits left, please don’t shoot a doe.

Bucks only, so I sat myself down and leaned against my tree eagerly waiting for my buck. A lot of doe, a dozen or more, walked by, some as close as 20 yards, but no bucks.
Because I could sit still no longer, finally, an hour and a half later, I gave up,. Getting up, unloading my carbine, I looked up and there stood, I thought I could reach out and touch him, a spike! I’m sure he was wondering what that funny looking lump of something was beside the tree, but finally, after admiring each other we finally turned and walked off.

No deer this time so Jim and I loaded up and drove down Farm/Market Road 102 towards Eagle Lake. The road ran right by Sonny’s property, so we stopped, opened the gate, drove in, shut the gate and took the long way around so we could check the stock tank for ducks, or the lack thereof. There was a copious amount of ducks on the tank so we got out and slipped on our waders. The waders were needed to retrieve the ducks we hoped we’d shoot.

Walking up behind the tank dam, we crept up, peeped over the edge and saw a lot of ducks, mallards, gadwall and widgeons and I whispered over to Jim, “Pick out the big ones.” We jumped up, the ducks exploded off the water and we let loose, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom and the ducks started falling to the water. We counted 4 mallards, 2 gadwall and 1 widgeon, lying still or flopping around. Dispatching the floppers, Jim looked over to me and said, “Boss, I’ll go in and get the ducks, you stay here.” I quickly agreed with him!

Jim collected the first 5 ducks, but the last 2 caused him problems because, walking toward the 2, he was up to the top of his waders. Calling out to Jim I told him I could “chunk” the ducks toward him, but he just walked on out, the water sloshing over the top and down inside. We’d already had two cold fronts so the water was cold, he yelled suddenly when the water hit him, but walked on out, picked up the 2 mallards and walked back, sloshing, up on the bank.

This is one of the times that it really paid off being the “boss”!