nice

Good Luck!!! Think I would call in sick

dawn til dark..... but also dusk til dark.

x2. Cold weather. Sit all day if you can. Good luck.

that neck is probably not the only thing swollen

Nice deer!

Weekend Update (WARNING: Long Read):

There is something about driving into a north wind, getting slightly less miles to the gallon and watching the temperature gauge drop that gets a hunter excited about a road trip. Despite getting on the road two hours later than expected, the excitement was still there for me as I made the trip from San Antonio to Throckmorton. Every downward tick of the temperature gauge is equal to one upward click on the excitement gauge, and it happened exactly 24 times in the four hours that I spent on the highway.

It's now 4:00PM, and I am pulling through the ranch gate. As I open my car door to gear up for the hunt, the north wind smacks me in the face, the smell of mesquites fills my nose and the whistling of quail completes the sensory overload. I stop for a brief second to thank the Lord for a safe trip and a place to enjoy His creation, then it's on to the hunting. In order to not disturb the hunters that have arrived on time, I have to take the north route to the stand where my deer has been seen. The wind is not in my favor, so I make the decision to park 600 yards away and walk in. As I make my way to the top of the plateau that overlooks the opening where the feeder resides, I see movement to the south of the feeder. It's my deer, and I'm late.

I spend a few minutes watching him in the feeder pen, calculating the various routes and methods to get to shooting range and decide that the only way to get to this deer is to go south along the east fence line, cut west at the edge of the clearing, and use the mesquites on the west side of the clearing to make my way back up to the feeder without being caught on his radar. After tip-toeing, crouching, glassing and creeping my way around, I am finally within eyesight of the feeder and there is a big-bodied deer with his head down soaking up the corn on the ground. The next thirty seconds seemingly take thirty minutes as I pull up my binoculars and wait for him to lift his head. He finally takes a break from the corn, lifts his head and showcases a rack of six scorable points that would maybe score 53 Pope and Young. Did I mention I am stalking this deer with a bow?

At this point, I've all but given up on it happening this evening. I have just spent over an hour getting into shooting range only to have the buck I'm looking for disappear. It is now 5:30PM, the sun is setting and I'm running out of time. As I sit down with a brush pile at my back with hopes that my deer comes back to eat before dark, I see some movement to the north on the side of the very plateau that this whole game started. The view through my binoculars confirms that this is the one I'm after, and the lengthening shadows confirm that I am running out of time.

The calculations are again streaming through my brain on how to approach this deer. There's no time to go back around, and there's not enough cover to get across the opening without being detected. Finally, something happens that is in my favor. I see a second body up on the hillside. He's with a doe, and he's distracted. I slowly creep across the opening, crouching to keep below the explosion of broom weeds we have this year. As I reach the east edge of the opening, a covey of quail flushes with a flurry of wings causing a thunderous sound and my heart to start racing. I pause to check the deer. He's not interested in the sound, only the doe that he's tailing.

I start making my way north towards shooting position. With range finder in hand, I shoot the distance every five or six steps. 60 yards, 55 yards, 50 yards... finally I get to 40 yards, a distance I am very comfortable with, but there is one major issue presenting itself, the deer is 15 feet up on top of the plateau. The incline shot is one that I have zero experience with, and I haven't a clue what the affect will be on the flight of my arrow. My range finder reads '40yds, +5 degrees, >40yds' meaning that it thinks I should use the same pin I would on flat ground. Having no experience with this type of shot to create a differing opinion, I opt to trust the technology in my hand. I draw back, step out from behind the mesquite I'm using for cover, and line up my 40 yard pin just behind the left shoulder of the perfectly positioned, slightly quartering away trophy.

As I pull the trigger on my release and watch the bright red illuminock glide toward my target, I can't help but soak in the scenery. The silhouette of the majestic 12 point buck standing up on the flat with his penned up doe, backlit by the west Texas sunset is quite the sight to see. It is moments like these that I wish I had my camera in hand instead of a bow. At least then I would have a beautiful picture to look back on instead of the burning memory of watching my arrow dip low and bury into the hillside a foot below the deer. He doesn't even spook. He simply lifts his head, looks directly into my soul as to say "that's your best shot?", then saunters away to chase the fleeting doe.

Until next time, old friend.

Great, albeit gut wrenching, read! I think we have all been there in some fashion. Good luck - keep after him!

The silver lining is that I was able to rattle in this ancient warrior on Saturday evening and exact some revenge... Freezer filled! He had worn down his molars all the way to the gums. The processor aged him at 8.5 years old.

A couple of good stories to store in your memory bank, and a fine buck collected, even though he's not the one you wanted! Congratulations!!

Congrats!

I defiantly didn't see your hitlister, but I think I have his grandson coming in. I think he's 2.5.