Let me start by saying that I have been blessed with a great hunting experience....a small moment, captured forever. It was an unbelievable opening weekend!
I have been hunting religiously for the past 28 years. Scanning the treelines, always hoping for that big buck to pop out. After seeing many of my family member take 10 pointers...I started wondering if I would ever have my time. For the past ten years or so, I mostly shot what I considered as "cull" bucks...spikes or mature bucks that would never develop. Still, the 10 eluded me. Thus, i dedicated my hunts to spending time with family and helping them....it's the one time of year I get to spend 1-1 time with my father.
Enter 2014. I'm traveling all over the place. I got back from overseas on Oct 25 and launched a new program the week of Halloween. Add to it, that Halloween was on Friday night (the night before opening), and the odds were against me on being able to go hunting at all. I have to spend some time with my little man...right? So I did the right thing, and put family first. Then, Saturday morning, I headed to meet up with my mom and dad. As soon as I arrived, we had our pleasantries and then departed for the stands to see what we could find. My dad hinted at wanting to hunt with me...but I was so caught up in the moment...I let it slide and wasn't really paying attention. Once I got to the stand, I remembered...."oh hell, he modified the stand to fit two people comfortably". I felt horrible...as I remembered in the Spring when I was traveling for work, he told me about the modifications.
Saw a good buck that evening, but he was young. Two more years buddy...two more years. I also found my shooter! A good 6" spike. Ohhh yeah, got my sights on you buddy. Saw a good amount of does, and yearlings. Weather was great. Wonderful afternoon hunt to let my worries melt away. Only one thing was missing...my dad.
Back at camp...we broke into the Knob Creek. Reminiscing on days past. Looking up to the stars, toasting Pappy Ed (my grandfather who loved to hunt with us and is no longer with us). Enjoying the moment.
Sunday morning came too quickly. Mom was sick as a dog. Oh no! "You're not going hunting"?!?! "Dad, let's go together this morning". It was my last chance to get some time in....as I had to fly to California that night for work (and I still needed to get home and organize before heading out). Dad agreed and we headed to the stand.
Beautiful morning. Deer running everywhere around us. Small bucks and a smothering of does. In and out of the tress...hard to keep track of. Then my dad put his hand on my knee....that moment where you "stop", and realize you are being told not to move. I look slowly to the right...nothing to see. My Dad's pointing deep up into the treeline on the right. He says, "Son, there's a good deer up there....he's staring right at us". I pulled up the binoculars hoping to catch a peak...all I could get was the mass...and the deep dark coloration. "yeah, good buck...going to get ready just in case". The does dance around, I'm creating chaos in the stand with mass buck fever...and finally he steps out into the right of way. Not a beast by most standards...but for where we hunt...he was a boss, and he was obviously in control of the situation. I'm just glad I got to experience it with my dad. What a dream...and a moment captured forever.
Finally got my 10. It's been a long hunt, ole boy. He grossed 131...for a low fence, his mass was extraordinary...~4.25" around between the G2 / G3's.
Sorry, no pics of Busses. I had my SOB with me and used it to crack the breast plate....but the Gene Ingram got the call on this particular day for most of the blood work.
