Sunday, December 15, 2013


These are the two words, uttered or spoken, that you live for as a hunter. From October 1st to Dec, 17th you go in the woods and try to put blood on the ground. It's a fact. This year i scored a month before and a month after what would be considered the hot point of the rut. I shot the 7 on Oct. 14th with the bow and I shot the 8 on Dec, 11th. with the muzzleloader. It makes no sense. This is what you gather as the years tick by and the bucks get bigger and harder to kill. You note the weather, the wind, what they are eating, where you are hunting, the time of day, the stand's all tucked away. And in the end it's all luck. You just have to be at the tables to take advantage of your good fortune.
   I question it. Don't think I don't. To kill such a magnificent creature, when it's doing no more than feeding itself, after weeks of fucking. How can i be so brutal? But there is no brutality in the act. It's an ancient struggle that has been mostly forgotten. The obsession for the antlers is hardwired. A 200 lb. buck is worth 3 does. So when I see a big heavy rack on top of the head of the buck pawing at the beech nuts, that I've been hunting for months, my breath quickens. When I kill that buck I sustain the experience as long as possible. I relive it daily. I bask in the glow. I'll answer the question.  It's too good not to experience.

And it starts with that drop of blood on a leaf. Before that is prelude.  Once you spot blood you know the score. If the Gods are willing you find a dead deer. If not, you struggle. This past season I've been able to spend days upon days in the woods, and been able to harvest two of my biggest bucks. One cleanly, one not so much. And this in a year where nobody is seeing much of anything. Savage nor Bird nor Big Bobby have shot bucks. Cooperstown is quiet and even does are hard to come by. But I can't stop. I push my luck. 12 inches of fresh snow has got me hunting until sunset on Dec. 17. I still have two doe tags. Yesterday a yearling doe danced around me in a snow storm. I never had the gun up. It was too beautiful. I love my life. The season is drawing to a close. One more drop of blood....      


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home