The Peek-A-Boo Spike

Randy and “The Peek-A-Boo Spike”.

Shortly after e-mailing the story and picture of the Buck in “Rattled In” to my youngest son, Randy, he called me and quickly let me know that he wanted me to rattle one up for him. Agreeing just as quick, but reminding him that “rattling” was not a 100% deal and a lot of things wind, time of the rut and deer activity had to come together for success, so we agreed on Saturday, December 2 for our hunt. Randy is a Baptist Minister in San Marcos, Texas, and his hunting time is limited, but since I’m retired, working my schedule into his is not a problem.

The second phase of the rut was about a week off, but for the past several days there had been some buck movement on my place, which is five miles southwest of Goldthwaite, so our timing might be good after all. Randy and I had both gotten in just before midnight, he from San Marcos and me from Stephenville, where Goldthwaite had lost an Area Round game in the Class A state football playoffs. We were in no mood for an early morning hunt and since the moon was almost full, we decided to go out around 1:00 PM and try our luck.

Randy decided that we, Randy, his eleven year old son, Austin and I, would hunt first in the southwest corner of my ranch close to where, the day before around lunch time, I had seen a nice buck. We silently approached “The Tripod Blind” and Randy climbed up on to the seat that was surrounded by lightweight camo netting, making him nearly invisible, while Austin and I chose a comfortable seat inside of the Oak Shinnery. We were 95% hidden and after a fifteen minute wait I began “rattling”. Nothing. Another wait, more “rattling”. Nothing. Austin was fast asleep. Another wait, more “rattling”. Nothing.

It was after 2:00 PM and Randy wanted to try one more place about a quarter of a mile away. I said, “Fine,” Austin said, “I’m going back to the house and take a nap.” Our time was short since we had to be finished and get cleaned up by 5:00 PM so we could go and see Goldthwaite’s annual “Parade Of Lights” and attend the Lions Club pancake supper, which left us with little time to “rattle” up a Buck,

Moving carefully to “Poppy’s Blind”, Randy climbed into the camouflaged tree stand and I squirmed into some thick brush and after a ten minute wait, began “rattling”. Nothing. Another wait, more “rattling”. Randy whispers down to me, and since I had my game ears in, heard him say, “Dad, I see a Deer, grunt and rattle again.” Which I did. Nothing, but I look up and see Randy tense up and Bam! His .243 Remington 660 barked and Randy said, “I got him and he is down and not moving!” I reply, “Good shot! I guess we don’t need Spike (my Dog) this to find this one.”

We waited for five minutes and walked the one hundred yards down to the Deer, and not what I had expected, there lay a dead spike. He had heard the “rattling” and was trying to sneak off with a doe while the two bucks were fighting. I was surprised, having heard of spikes coming in to “rattling”, but had not seen it before. I can only hope I don’t rattle up a big cat!

Walking back to the house to get the Jeep, Randy described the past event, saying, “The second time you “rattled” I was half-dozing and to my left I thought I saw a Deer peeking around a cedar tree toward the sounds. You stopped and it peeked around again. I didn’t see it for a couple of minutes so I told you to repeat the process and then I see him about one hundred yards to my front peeking around some buck brush and I can make out his spikes. He makes a fatal error and steps out from behind the brush and “bam”, down he goes, right in his tracks!”

While Randy is preparing his deer, my wife, Layla, Austin, and his sister, Rebekah, and I get ready in time for the pancake supper and parade. Randy is taking the Deer to a processor in New Braunfels and is having it turned into German dry sausage. He says he will give me some.