After returning from Suzanne’s ranch, aptly named “The Dirty Boot Ranch” and spending Thanksgiving, along with a couple of a couple of days hunting with Wesley, we saw several doe, but no bucks. Checking the answering machine I saw Mickey Donahoo had called, calling with the Boone & Crockett scoring on my big buck.

Calling Mickey, I got the full story from him.  The buck, classified as a “Typical”, scored 142.5, but if both G-4’s hadn’t both been broken off, Mickey thought the buck would have scored over 150.  Two other points are broken off, but had little impact on the scoring.  The age is still unknown, but my guess of 4-1/2 or 5-1/2 is close.

Here’s the “best” picture from Steve Bridges, the owner of the local newspaper, “[The Goldthwaite Eagle]” and click on it to see a very successful, local newspaper!

It took me almost a year, but I finally got the game cam “shots” of a wounded buck, feeding on December 23rd last year. It’s a long story, mostly about my own foul ups, but these “shots” are astounding.  First, on the 23rd, the buck comes into MaMaw’s blind, obviously no one was hunting there and, probably, it had just been grazed in the chest by a misaimed bullet.

Then, on the 25th, Layla doesn’t let anyone hunt on Christmas day, the same wounded buck was chasing a couple of yearlings, one a button buck, the other a doe away from the feeder at the corner blind.  He didn’t catch the little doe because I followed both over the months and she had no fawn.  However, now, she’s chased her brother off, he’s a 4 pointer waiting for next year and she’s out trying to find a buck.  That’s the way things go!

Because of the severe drought last year, antler development was poor and I have no way of knowing, if the wounded buck has survived this long into the new season, but I do know that the big buck that I shot on November 7th, definitely had not been wounded before!

On Monday, November 19th, Mickey Donahoo and I went out to try and get a doe or a spike.  Way before first light, probably before legal shooting time too, I saw a buck come gliding by, this was a really good one and from what I could see maybe neared the big one that I had shot previously.  Grunting, the buck stopped for a moment, then resumed his hunt for a doe.

Right at sun up, Mickey saw a real nice 8 pointer, with tall horns, probably this year a 3-1/2 year old and right now would score over 120 B&C.  It will be a big buck in the years to come!  You know, I really cuss our county’s one, buck limit, but it allows the bucks more time to develop and produce bigger racks!  Maybe it’s not so bad after all.

About an hour into the mornings hunt I noticed a buck just standing behind a mesquite tree, no frosts yet and the trees are still loaded with leaves!

He just stood there for a few minutes then he came out, nice brow tines, good horns, an 8 pointer, probably another 3-1/2, but not the nice one Mickey had seen earlier.

He dawdled around, I took more pictures then he walked on into the thick stuff.

Mickey saw more doe, but no shooters, not the big one he was looking for so our morning hunt drew to a close.  Mickey was interested in seeing a picture first hand of my big buck, he’d seen the one in the newspaper, grainy and all but wanted a real picture.  His remark was, “Wow!”  He’s a taxidermist and will do this buck and he said it would score 140 to 150 B&C.  Just so long as it’s over 130, I’ll be happy!

The last day the hogs showed up was November 9th, that figures because on Tuesday the 13th, I got the hog trap back operating, I replaced the springs on the door and adjusted the trap lever.  Where’d the hogs go, no sign of their further depredations or droppings, where’d they go?

Mills County is currently blessed (?) with Special Antler Restrictions from our Parks and Wildlife Department, ie, a one, buck county, I’ve got a big one and it’s still not scored yet. So, if I want another buck, I’ll have to go behind a high fence or at least to another county, without antler restrictions.

Turning my attention to spikes and doe, we need to start thinning the doe out and there’s only one spike, he showed up at the water trough the last night I had the game cam there, but there’s a very strange horned young, buck that I couldn’t figure if it was a spike or a maybe a deformed buck.  Sending the picture of the buck to the Game Warden, he replied that it was a spike and could be harvested as one.  The ‘shots’ of the spike follow.

For me, my hunting season is about over, but now the fun starts and here come the grand kids!

Getting back from Suzanne’s in Paris, Texas, late on Sunday night, the first time I got to go after the hogs again was on Monday evening.  This time the feeder didn’t go off and, of course, nothing showed up.

Yesterday I went to Marble Falls, this is the same place that produced the marble, tons of it, for our magnificent State Capitol, not sightseeing though, I attended a meeting of the local chapter of the Sons Of The American Revolution, also since I had multiple Grandfather’s that served in the fight for our freedom, this will help me to chose the correct one for membership.

Back to deer hunting, the hogs are back and showed up on the night of November 9th, the hog trap is ready, the feeder has a new battery and my red night light is all charged, so tonight I will be back in MaMaw’s blind for a go at the hogs, here’s 2 of the rascals.

Monday afternoon was a mad house, the Editor and owner of the local newspaper, The Goldthwaite Eagle, wanted me to take some pictures of my big buck for the paper, this week’s edition of course.  Easier said than done though because I didn’t know if the local processor, Mills County Locker, had caped the deer or not.  One call to the locker was all it took for me to go by the processor, pick the buck up and take it to the owner’s house for pictures, but I still don’t have the buck aged or scored.  Pictures made and the results are below.

The passers by, U.S. Highway 183 and Texas Highway 16 (The Texas Forts Trail) are Goldthwaite’s main street, needless to say, the buck created a lot of stares in the back of my pickup!

Yesterday afternoon I went down to MaMaw’s blind to try and get a shot at some pesky hogs, they’re back after I thought they’d gone off my place.  Not having been in the blind for 15 minutes, I saw movement on my left and as I turned I saw it was a doe followed by the biggest buck I’d ever seen.  Scrambling to try and get a shot at him, I had to slide the window open, poke my rifle outside, then the buck, for some reason, turned broadside to me, boom, my .243 exploded and down he went!  Down for the count, shot, as I later discovered, right in the shoulder where I was aiming (of course).  Here’s the buck on the ground!

Then the fun began, not 5 minutes later, up walked another buck, a young 8 pointer that has been hanging around all our feeders, intent on fighting this big one, strangely lying on the ground and not responding to his challenges.  The first picture shows the buck, an 8, walking down the road and the second shows him kicking up dust trying to get the big guy to fight.
   
Finally, deciding that the big one just wouldn’t fight, the 8 pointer walked off into the thick stuff.  Then the doe, the big one had been following, showed up at the feeder and let out a bawl just like the doe call marketed by a large, outdoors supplier.

Her bawl was answered soon by the 8 pointer who walked out and began nibbling at the corn and protein scattered around, both jumped out of the feeder, then the chase began and we all know the ending.  The picture shows both in the feeder area.

Sitting in the blind until dark, my wait for the hogs was in vain, but I still had to take care of the big one.  Walking down to the buck, I snapped this picture of him, all 10 points lying exactly where he fell.   As the picture shows, the big one had definitely been fighting because 4 of his 10 points had been broken off during past fights.

Mickey Donahoo and his wife were gone out to his hunting lease, I called him anyway to let him know that I’d shot a big one that I wanted him to mount, no answer.   Layla and I loaded up the big buck and took him down to the processor and just as we got home, Mickey called, they’d just got back home and I related the story to him.  He told me that he’d both score and age the buck, so for Layla and I, it’s off to Suzanne’s to take care of her, we’ll return Sunday, then probably more deer hunting and stories.

Opening morning of the 2012 deer season found me in the corner blind awaiting sun up.  Sun up came and went, no fusillade of shots, it sounded like the third or fourth day, not very many shots, until around 8:30 AM, then a steady booming.  Finally, a yearling came out then followed by its doe, look carefully the yearling is to the right, inside of the feeder, head down feeding.

Tim went to the Porta Potty blind, missed a doe, while Colton and a friend shot a spike.

They had to get back early, so they cleaned it and left before I could get a picture, but here’s a “shot” from a game cam of the eliminated spike.

Saturday afternoon I went out to a feeder that had only been feeding for the past 2 weeks, for a while nothing, then a yearling came out and fed, then an overly cautious doe, obviously the mom, came out and fed too.  The doe kept looking over into the thick stuff, she’d feed, then quickly glance up, repeating this process several times until she and the yearling trotted off, exactly to where to she had been glancing.  No pictures of course.

No hunting Sunday morning and I went out to MaMaw’s blind that afternoon and got eaten up by mosquitoes, only saw 2 doe and a yearling, one of the doe and her yearling are pictured below.

Monday morning I was up early and walked to a stand away from any feeders, by 8:30 I hadn’t seen anything, then a buck walked right below where I was sitting, stopped, looked up, as if he didn’t see me and kept walking on, checking his rub line.  He stopped, turned his side toward me as I got the .270 up and on him, right in my scope, then I didn’t shoot.  He was so close that I couldn’t risk getting up the camera.  He wasn’t “Big Daddy”, but the 8 pointer in the “shot” below.

Back on rub lines, bucks will check them occasionally, rub lines are territorial and they are always in a straight line around the bucks territory.  Below are 2 pictures of rubs, the first is by the stand I was using and the other is 150 yards away, in a straight line.

Deer season is starting this coming Saturday and thinking back over my years of blogging, it keeps coming back to me about the dove hunt with my dad, the hunt where we didn’t get many birds, even though conditions were good and a lot were flying. This particular hunt Dad passed on to me some very sage advice that has buoyed me over the years, “Boy, don’t worry about today’s bad hunt. Just remember, if it was easy each time out, it would be called shooting instead of hunting” and I’ll pick up the story there.

Being retired and having a ranch smack dab in the center of our fine State, gave me plenty of time and sufficient opportunity to be in the field hunting and I had planned an afternoon hunt in a tree stand, in very thick cover, on the south side of my property, to try and “rattle” up a nice buck.

As I left my house, the phone rang and a very close friend was calling from Houston just to check up on me. Talking for a while I finally told him that I was on my way out to shoot “Bambi”, he laughed and said “Good luck.” Hanging up, the phone rang again and it was one of my daughters, Suzanne, calling from Paris, Texas, looking for Layla. I couldn’t just brush her off, so we talked for a few minutes and finally I told her that I was on my way to hunt. She said, “Isn’t it kinda’ late, but good luck anyway.”

Yes it was late, almost 5:00 PM, (CDT), so I decided to hunt a special “hide” of mine, 10 yards off from several well used deer trails, also I reluctantly decided not to take my deer horns with me, so there would be no “rattling” this trip. The “hide” was cut into a cedar tree, with a copious amount of buck brush sprinkled liberally around so I snuck into it and pulled my camo face mask down, this turned out to be mistake one of several I made that afternoon! Quietly chambering a round into my lightweight .270, I slipped my grunt caller over my head and I was ready for the deer, I thought.

Not 5 minutes later, looking down the trail, I saw a doe was running along about half speed, toward me and she was followed by a beautiful 10 point buck, tall horns, at least 6 inches past his ears, over a 20 inch spread for sure, not being a good B&C scorer he must have been at least a 150! Boy, was I ready for him, I thought. The doe flashed by and I could hear her hooves pounding (or was that my heart) as I raised the rifle with my left hand and tried to slip my “grunt” caller under my face mask, thinking that when I “grunted”, he would come to a stop, giving me a shot, but the caller tangled in the face mask as I tried to blow into it. Nothing happened and the buck, nostrils flared and mouth half open, as if in a mocking smile, flashed past me, and both deer turned into the brush.

Wow! What a sight! Not to be outsmarted by the buck, I finally untangled the caller from the face mask, I was very frustrated now, and blew a defiant challenge call to the apparently, long gone buck, “Grunt, Grunt, Grnt, grnt, grnt, grnt.” Barely a minute later, looking down the trail, here came the buck trotting back looking for this unseen challenger. He was more interested in fighting and now I’ve got him now I thought.

Facing me, a large cedar tree blocked out a portion of the trail, and my mind, in overdrive, quickly calculated he would clear the right side of the tree, and I shouldered my rifle and prepared for the killing shot. Waiting, for what seems like an hour, no buck and cutting my eyes away from the scope, I looked to the left of the tree and there stood the buck, not 15 yards from me, behind a knarly, dead mesquite.

Moving my rifle slowly, ever so slowly, from the right side to the left side of the cedar tree and moving the safety to fire, I saw there was no killing shot available. Maybe a head shot between 2 limbs, but I choose not to as the buck wheeled and moved off, masking me with the cedar tree.

Where was my “grunt” caller, I deduced it was still around my neck, so instead of fumbling with it again, and my “store” teeth prohibiting me to whistle, I yelled “HEY” several times. The buck didn’t even acknowledge me, no stride breaking, no tail flashing back and fourth, he just trotted back into the thick stuff.

Thinking to myself, Well Jon, you really blew this one. The buck has “made” me at this spot, so I eased out of my “hide” and began, at high port, slipping toward a new one about 300 yards away. After slowly moving about 50 yards, I rounded a curve in the trail, all the while looking through the heavy cover and I spotted my adversary again, watching me from behind a mesquite that hadn’t shed its leaves. The buck was approximately 75 yards away and I slowly moved the rifle from high port to my shoulder and slid off the safety, along with several mesquite limbs he was in the cross hairs. My mind was racing, can this 115 grain bullet traveling at over 3,100 FPS, break through the brush and score a killing hit, or will it be deflected. Should I shoot? Not taking the chance of wounding and loosing this fine buck, I lowered my rifle, the buck turned and walked back into the thick stuff.

Walking back to my Jeep, my thoughts were in a jumble, I really screwed up a good opportunity to bag a trophy, but on the other hand, I choose to pass on a marginal shot. There will be another time for both of us and in spite of my earlier well wishers, my luck wasn’t good this hunt.

Like my dad said, “If it was easy, it would be called shooting, instead of hunting.”

On Monday afternoon, I met Mickey Donahoo, on the left, for a last minute dove hunt, because the season ends today, October 24th.  While waiting for Mickey, the landowner told me, which I already knew, that the season ended Wednesday and he thought our pickings would be slim.  He had hunted this past weekend and didn’t score too well.

We spent most of the afternoon looking at an empty sky, but there were a lot of dragonflies, and no, we didn’t shoot any.  However, passing the time Mickey told a funny story about an opening day dove hunt outside of League City, Texas.  Mickey and 2 of his friends opened the season along a power line, his friends walked several hundred yards to down the line and set up shop.  Soon there was a literal fusillade of shots coming from his friends, the shots kept popping, so finally Mickey moved down closer to them and yelled over, “How many you got”, “Eighteen” came the reply, funny he thought because he hadn’t seen any birds.  Both of his friends, into the beer, yelled back, “Dragonflies, there’s hundreds of them!”

Back to our hunt, we shot several holes in the sky, but along came a single white wing, pow, both guns roared at once, needless to say, the bird fell not 10 feet from us.  Mickey pitched the bird on to my fold out chair, saying he didn’t want to clean it.  It stayed on the chair until I looked down at it, a real pretty bird set off by the white stripe along its wing and it turned out to be the only one of the day.

So the season ended, a lot of holes in the sky, but only 11 months to go until next year!

It’s getting to be that time, the time of the rut, when doe go into their estrus and the bucks start chasing them and let their guard down, my time of year and the same for millions of other hunters.  This year, maybe, just maybe the rut will start a little early and I’ve heard some folks around here saying that they’ve already seen bucks chasing doe.

These 2 “shots” of a nice 8 pointer, good brow tines, good height on his spread, well outside his ears and his neck is swollen.  Maybe it’s early for this, but anybody can see his neck is large and he’s ready for a fight!
    
November 3rd can’t get here soon enough!