Buckslayer1993
New member
- Joined
- Jan 14, 2020
- Messages
- 3
The first time I encountered this buck was Halloween 2010. At the time he was a 2 1/2 y/o wide 6 which I named "Almost". He earned the name that fall as I had three more encounters with him but never sealed the deal. We collected his sheds during the off season and I immediately went to work setting cameras with my fathers guidance in his main area during summer 2011. Nothing produced until father sent me trail camera photos of him he collected the week before my birthday (Nov 2nd). I knew then that the hunt was on!
My anticipation grew that week and I arranged to spend my birthday weekend at my dad's hunting this deer. We live in NW Pennsylvania and as you know November is the magical month to be hunting whitetails no matter what state you're from. I left school that Friday and my mother drove me down to meet my dad. He was just as anxious as I was to get in the stand the next morning. Finally, the morning of November 5th hit. It was brisk and clear at 545am when I set out to gobblers knob where I set a ladder stand months prior. On my walk in I freshened a mock scrape my father made that week and pulled a scent stick coated in doe estrus behind me. Once I was 30 yards from my stand I set the stick on a limb and proceeded up my stand to get settled in. The sun just peaked the horizon and behind me came loud grunts along with trotting. My heart started racing and I could barely contain myself as Almost was following my drag trail. I waited for what seemed like hours for him to make his way in range. He stopped at my scent stick and grunted again. In my mind I was saying don't blow it! He made his way out to the ridge line and I drew my bow. I bleeted at him as he hit my shooting lane. Perfectly broadside at 20yds i rested my pin on his vitails. It was perfect shooting light. I released my last breath and sent my arrow flying. Things took an ugly turn as he bucked turned and slowy walked away. I knew he was hit but his body language said it wasn't a great shot. He was hunched over and his tail was fluttering. Quickly as I could I knocked a second arrow in an attempt to put a finishing shot on him. By the time I drew back he made it over the ridge and out of sight. Adrenaline took over and I couldn't believe what just transpired. I got on the phone and called my father who was hunting from his blind across the valley. I whispered "Dad, I just shot Almost. It doesn't look to be a good hit but I need you to come up here." Once off the phone I climbed out of my stand and investigated the point of impact. No arrow but there was good blood for 40 yards. My first thought was it passed through and ended up down the hill. We met up at our normal spot. Since I was not sure of my shot and I couldn't find my arrow we backed out. 4pm rolled around and we set out to take up the blood trail. I took my dad to where I shot him and he was convinced we'd find him dead just down the hill in the CRP. The blood was dark and looked like a liver shot. We followed it to the CRP. I took the lead into the field and not ten feet into the CRP up jumped my buck with the arrow sticking out at center mass slightly high. My dad and I were both stunned he wasn't dead. We watched him run to the wood line and out of sight yet again. Soon after losing sight of him we heard him crash. I walked up to his bed and a decent pool of blood was what I found. At this point it's about dark and I have to head back to Erie come sunday morning. I pled my case to dad saying lets just wait him out and continue on after dark. He shot it down as he is a seasoned hunter and knew if we pressed on we'd bump him again. It was difficult for me to agree but I was still learning the ropes. In my eyes he was gone forever and that my worst fears just played out in front of me. It was the worst feeling ever to leave for Erie and my dad comforted my the entire drive up saying "I'll gather the neighbors neighbors in the morning and we will recover your buck." I was still upset and didn't sleep a wink that night replaying the days events in my head like a bad dream. The next morning I was up and eager to contact my dad to get him moving. He went to his neighbors and they set out on his four wheeler to the wood line where I got my last look at the deer. Not twenty minutes after we ended our second call he sent me the second picture in this email with a caption "Here's your buck Joshy boy! He never made it out of the second bed." I teared up and was overwhelmed with joy knowing "Almost" was dead and in good hands. I gave thanks to the lord and to everyone who took time to help my dad recover him. It was three weeks later and the weekend before rifle season that I finally got to wrap my hands around his rack. To me it was by far the most memorable hunt I've had in my 14 years of hunting these magnificent animals. It could've came with a lot less agony but that's how things go sometimes. That day came with many valuable lessons that I use in every hunt I go on. When in doubt back out and never assume the worst. Thank you for bearing with me as I just couldn't leave any detail out. The journey was a nail biter to read im sure and I hope you enjoyed reading about my "Birthday buck". I'm just a small town hunter from Northwest Pennsylvania.
My anticipation grew that week and I arranged to spend my birthday weekend at my dad's hunting this deer. We live in NW Pennsylvania and as you know November is the magical month to be hunting whitetails no matter what state you're from. I left school that Friday and my mother drove me down to meet my dad. He was just as anxious as I was to get in the stand the next morning. Finally, the morning of November 5th hit. It was brisk and clear at 545am when I set out to gobblers knob where I set a ladder stand months prior. On my walk in I freshened a mock scrape my father made that week and pulled a scent stick coated in doe estrus behind me. Once I was 30 yards from my stand I set the stick on a limb and proceeded up my stand to get settled in. The sun just peaked the horizon and behind me came loud grunts along with trotting. My heart started racing and I could barely contain myself as Almost was following my drag trail. I waited for what seemed like hours for him to make his way in range. He stopped at my scent stick and grunted again. In my mind I was saying don't blow it! He made his way out to the ridge line and I drew my bow. I bleeted at him as he hit my shooting lane. Perfectly broadside at 20yds i rested my pin on his vitails. It was perfect shooting light. I released my last breath and sent my arrow flying. Things took an ugly turn as he bucked turned and slowy walked away. I knew he was hit but his body language said it wasn't a great shot. He was hunched over and his tail was fluttering. Quickly as I could I knocked a second arrow in an attempt to put a finishing shot on him. By the time I drew back he made it over the ridge and out of sight. Adrenaline took over and I couldn't believe what just transpired. I got on the phone and called my father who was hunting from his blind across the valley. I whispered "Dad, I just shot Almost. It doesn't look to be a good hit but I need you to come up here." Once off the phone I climbed out of my stand and investigated the point of impact. No arrow but there was good blood for 40 yards. My first thought was it passed through and ended up down the hill. We met up at our normal spot. Since I was not sure of my shot and I couldn't find my arrow we backed out. 4pm rolled around and we set out to take up the blood trail. I took my dad to where I shot him and he was convinced we'd find him dead just down the hill in the CRP. The blood was dark and looked like a liver shot. We followed it to the CRP. I took the lead into the field and not ten feet into the CRP up jumped my buck with the arrow sticking out at center mass slightly high. My dad and I were both stunned he wasn't dead. We watched him run to the wood line and out of sight yet again. Soon after losing sight of him we heard him crash. I walked up to his bed and a decent pool of blood was what I found. At this point it's about dark and I have to head back to Erie come sunday morning. I pled my case to dad saying lets just wait him out and continue on after dark. He shot it down as he is a seasoned hunter and knew if we pressed on we'd bump him again. It was difficult for me to agree but I was still learning the ropes. In my eyes he was gone forever and that my worst fears just played out in front of me. It was the worst feeling ever to leave for Erie and my dad comforted my the entire drive up saying "I'll gather the neighbors neighbors in the morning and we will recover your buck." I was still upset and didn't sleep a wink that night replaying the days events in my head like a bad dream. The next morning I was up and eager to contact my dad to get him moving. He went to his neighbors and they set out on his four wheeler to the wood line where I got my last look at the deer. Not twenty minutes after we ended our second call he sent me the second picture in this email with a caption "Here's your buck Joshy boy! He never made it out of the second bed." I teared up and was overwhelmed with joy knowing "Almost" was dead and in good hands. I gave thanks to the lord and to everyone who took time to help my dad recover him. It was three weeks later and the weekend before rifle season that I finally got to wrap my hands around his rack. To me it was by far the most memorable hunt I've had in my 14 years of hunting these magnificent animals. It could've came with a lot less agony but that's how things go sometimes. That day came with many valuable lessons that I use in every hunt I go on. When in doubt back out and never assume the worst. Thank you for bearing with me as I just couldn't leave any detail out. The journey was a nail biter to read im sure and I hope you enjoyed reading about my "Birthday buck". I'm just a small town hunter from Northwest Pennsylvania.
