This story has two main parts. The first started just over 10 years ago. My dad used to bow hunt but with a lack of time and life getting busy switched to gun hunting and has been an avid hunter his entire life. He used to have a gun stand that was extremely good to him. The stand was just across the property line and the neighbors gave him permission to hunt there; however, when they realized he was shooting nice bucks most years there they put up their own stand right next to him and he got the hint and left quietly while being thankful for the time he had there. Around the same time we purchased an additional 140 acres on the other side of my uncles farm that would serve as our new deer hunting land. He. Put up a new stand and began searching for big bucks again. For the next 8 years my dad, brother, and I would work on habitat and foodplots. While me and my brother shot some nice bucks dad never had the opportunity until two years ago he had a long running shot at a nice deer. Waiting patiently for a big buck all these years dad took the shot knowing it was a slim chance and we believe he never touched the buck. This is where the second part of the story starts. Two years ago I took responsibility of running trail cameras on our farm and found my new addiction. Pictures started flooding in and we got this buck we named stickers last summer. Never saw the deer again that season although I did find his right shed with the sticker. I knew he made it through gun season. Fast forward through another year without a big buck for my dad and I got stickers on camera again this year. He was slightly smaller yet I was very excited to chase him again after finding his sheds. Fast forward through a early bow season without and bi buck sitings and I hear a shot from dad's stand opening morning. My dad has been know for shooting the occasional little buck but it was rare on opening morning. "Finally" I whispered under my breath as I have been praying for years that he would shoot a big one. Unfortunately everything went wrong from there. He waited 20 minutes and went to track him. (I am not trying to brag at all but with the shotgun set ups we have, when we shoot deer they usually die before the first 60 seconds are up. Feel free to ask about what we use because they are effective.) As fate would have it, this was not one of those times. He jumped the buck and he ran 300 yards directly to my stand. Not knowing anything about him jumping the buck I see MASS coming through the swamp and I get ready. I choose my shot opportunity and looking back buck fever hid some branches that I should have seen. The buck walked in and I pulled the trigger. My thoughts were in order; "Holy S*&% I just shot a big buck" "Me and my dad have bucks on the ground within 20 minutes" "Wait he isnt taking off very fast" "Oh there he goes, get ready for the second shot" "S&*% no second window to shoot in" "He just went down 30 yards from where I shot him" - all of that in about the time my Beretta ejects a shell and reloads another. Before the Adrenaline wears off I see my dad walking over to my stand. I assumed he climbed down to find his buck and heard me shoot so he decided to come check out what I had going on. Come to find out he jumped his deer and was relieved when he heard me shoot thinking I got him. Oh how we were both so wrong. Since he already jumped the buck once we back out for two hours and then took up the blood trail from where dad shot him. (We were thinking he was dead since he went down 30 yards from where I shot him). We found great blood at first and then marginal all the way to my stand. I crawled back in just in case and dad kept following the trail. To my horror I saw the buck get up again and run into our cattail swamp without a shot opportunity. By this point dad was frustrated and had made up his mind that he was going to get the hip boots and just keep following the trail and pushing him until he gets a shot at him again or finds him dead. I knew better than to try to argue with him. Somewhere between 700-1000 yards later dad was exhausted and decided to call it a night. He jumped him a few times and had blood the entire way, ranging from good to bad. He had marked his last blood and came out with a plan to walk up on a dead buck in the morning. The next morning proved to be no less frustrating. My dad and I took up the trail and lost it almost immediately. We began grid searching a think willow swamp while trying not to lose our minds. Was that the same trail I already walked down three times? After a few hours we were defeated. We have spent two days finding this deer and lost the trail. We were going to walk out however we split up as dad was going straight out and I was going back the way we came to get dad's hat that we used for a marker. With dad behind me to my right 40 yards I heard crashing coming through the willows and I saw the buck. He stopped 20 yards in front of me but when I pulled the trigger all I heard was "Click". A piece of bark was in my gun from that mornings tree stand. What luck. We spent three more hours or so grid searching but we couldn't find any blood or the deer again. We were beat. Today my brother calls my saying he is pheasant hunting and needs to go back to his truck to find a saw. I knew instantly. He found it it. It was indeed stickers and was if nothing else closure for a long story on both fronts. Two years of chasing this buck and hours of search. The meat was of course spoiled so my brother took the head to our taxidermist and we are going to get the antler mount for dad for his birthday in January. He still doesn't know that we found him. Bittersweet. Final pictures to come Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
great story! that's why we call it hunting not killing. I'm sure your dad will be excited to see him show up when it's done.
That's awesome. I'm sure that your dad will be so happy. I had a similar experience a few years back. My dad shot a buck many years ago, the biggest buck he had ever shot and it jumped the fence onto the neighbors property where they have a lot of people hunting and have it posted tight. The buck was dead but one of the stand hunters "shot" anyway out of his elevated stand. We walked up to the fallen deer and even though the only hole in the deer was from the side, the stand hunter claimed that his bullet from above had killed the deer. My dad was very dejected. After the season was over I happened to be driving by the house that the other guy, (I won't call him a hunter) lives and he was out in the yard. I stopped and asked him what he wanted for the rack. He told me and I mounted it on a plaque and gave it to my dad for Christmas. It still hangs over his chair to this day.
Thanks and yes I think he will be relieved when we give him his birthday present Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
