My best hunt came from one where I killed a doe one on November 5th, 2005. I had been hunting a 130" 8 point the last 2 days. I had missed him the afternoon before and climbed in a stand not far from where I had sat the day before. Right at dawn a doe came walking in to about 10 yards and put an arrow through her. As I am watching her die on the hillside, a massive 150 class 10 pointer ran through right on her trail, but I couldn't get another arrow nocked in time. Not a minute later a fork walked under me, and a few minutes later a little 6 point came in on the same trail. I sat tight and then a 2.5 year old 10 pointer came through about 30 yards away, and following him was another 2.5 year old 8 pointer. All of this happening within the first 30 minutes of daylight! About an hour passed with no more deer sightings, so I made the bonehead move of packing my stuff up and going to start the process of taking care of the dead doe. I lowered my bow to the ground, and looked up to see none other than the wide 8 pointer I was hunting walking right towards me. I hurried and got my bow back in the tree and an arrow nocked while he was at the long distance of 7 yards. I tried to draw and he busted me without me ever getting a shot. I had this same buck the following year at 40 yards in October, but he caught my wind before I got a shot. A few weeks later I watched him chase a doe around my stand as I was walking in for an afternoon hunt.
This is still my favorite hunt: The 400 Pound SLOB: by Dan Infalt It was a full two hours before dark, when I heard the 1st deer coming through the cattails. Slurp, Slurp, his feet made the unmistakable rhythmic, sound only feet getting pulled out of muck can make. It kept getting closer, till finally a 140 class ten pointer emerged into a creek that separated me from the bedding area. The buck crossed the creek right where I expected, the turned and headed right at me. I was a mere 6 feet of the ground in a natural blind formed near the union of several huge limbs in a gigantic willow tree that sat alone in an otherwise treeless environment, I got nervous, as I looked directly into the eyes of the beast. It felt like he was starring me down even though I new he did not know I was there. Finally at 7 yards from the tree he turned with the trail and quartered away He stopped at 10 yards to work over a primary scrape offering me a perfect shot. As he walked away, I questioned my decision to let him go. Just a few days earlier I had seen a much larger buck cross the creek on the same trail, and work this same scrape, as a matter of fact I had seen him several times since the summer. I could not put my tag on a lesser buck, until I gave this buck a worthwhile effort. I could still see the ten pointer working over some unlucky dogwood bushes in the distance, when a ripple in the creek caught my eye. The buck had slipped in while all my attention was focused on the 10 pointer. I felt foolish for momentarily loosing my concentration enough to lose the ability to hear this one coming. It only took a glance to recognize the buck that had filled my thoughts and dreams since the 1st day I seen him. His massive 9 point rack was dwarfed by the biggest body I had ever seen. He crossed the creek and turned facing me, my nerves and emotions were going nuts. If it was hard to look the ten pointer in the eyes, this was nearly impossible. I kept focused as the slob buck hit spot 7 yards away where the trail finally turned away from me. He stopped facing me head on, put his head down, smelled the ground, then raised his head starring right at me. I wondered if he was hearing my heavy heart beat, but after a short look he just flicked his tail and followed the trail, When he started working over the same licking branch the earlier ten point had worked, I eased my bow back. The arrow was perfect. The buck jumped, looked around then just fell over with a loud thud, and a little kicking. The 162" score did not do justice for this monarch. His main beams were nearly 30 inches long, and carried there mass all the way to the blunt tips. His tines had circumferences as big around as most bucks bases. You can't just throw a score onto a buck like that. When a friend and I, finally got the monster out of the swamp and back to camp, we were amazed when it bottomed out my 300 pound weight scale after field dressing. This buck had to be near 400 pounds alive. I have crossed paths with a few unlucky bucks that scored higher, but this would be my best buck, the one that meant the most. The moral of this story is not just to brag about my favorite buck, Instead, I would like to share the scouting that was involved in getting this buck. First of all, it should be said that I believe a hunter seeking a mature whitetail should spend far more time scouting than hunting. Scouting for me, never really starts or stops, its kind of always going on. Its funny how your ears tune into anything hunting related or having to do with the where abouts of the next monarch. Any way, after hearing about some great bucks some people had seen in a certain area, and seeing some huge sheds another guy had found, I decided to check out this new property. It started at home, looking over plat books to determine land borders and owners, and viewing aerial photo's to find starter points. I started driving around this particular swamp, looking at the trails and tracks in the snow, and also looking at how the local hunters accessed there hunting spots. I walked the land completely, starting in January and completing in march. I looked for the food sources, buck bedding areas, doe bedding areas, travel funnels, rubs, significant tracks, etc. I learned how the bucks traveled this land. However, even more importantly, I learned how other hunters hunted the land, I found the trees they hunted out of, the permanent stands, there parking spots and travel routes to and from there stands . This was then mapped out, and when I compared the travel and bedding of the bucks to the travel hunting of the hunters, I was then able to find overlooked areas where big bucks could find some peace on this property. As usual, one of the best spots was right next to the road only a few hundred yards from the main parking spot. The bucks were bedding in cattails mixed with small trees and dogwood bushes on the other side of a creek within a stones throw from the road. All the hunters walked down the path a way then some turned off and set up, some went to the middle of the swamp and set up. But nobody, walked along the road and set up near the parking lot. It was one of the few spots these bucks had not felt human invasion. The best part was that if I parked my truck just right, I could see into the staging area, and view the bucks as they staged after leaving there bedding area just before dark. Of course this had to be done covertly. I would make believe I was reading the paper and never wear hunting cloths or have hunting stickers on my truck as I did not want to tip off other hunters to where the bucks are. Occasionally all summer I would glass the bucks seeing all the bucks that came out of the bedding area and how they moved around the staging area. At the same time I was watching other bucks in other areas as back ups. I needed a good wind in order to hunt this spot, and once the season came, it was a waiting and watching game until everything was perfect. By watching deer like this, I had learned that a good wind is not necessarily a wind blowing away from the bedding area. This is because the deer would naturally come out much later, or use a totally different exit when the wind was not in there favor, but with the proper cross wind, that was close to being in there favor, I could slip in and get the job done. Moral of the story. 300 hours scouting 1 hour hunting. There are no magic gizmo's, no pixie dust, no easy way to consistently produce huge bucks. You just have to do the work. You have to do the scouting..
buckmaster that buck is absolutely huge!! I would love to see let alone shoot something like that. Congrats
This one means the most, I put a ton of time into this deer once I found his shed antler..lots of long nights glassing till dark, driving 40 miles each way.. home well after dark to a very understanding wife, then finally getting him on video from an observation stand I put in just to try to find him when I first found that shed ... the first time he ever appeared near where I found the shed, I knew it was him.. those short g2s were a dead give away.. anyway, he to this day and all the work and prep to kill him means the most..
I'm with you on this one. I thought long and hard about it and it's really tough to narrow it down. They are all unique in their own way, and I think that's why they are all very special.
