So Long, Hunting Season '25!

[Dougfirtree]

Another season come and gone. It was a fun one and I thought I’d share some highlights.

My season started with the youth bird hunting weekend. My middle son and I got out once and after a couple misses, he was able to connect on a pheasant. He learned a lot about hunting with the dog and putting himself in the right spot. Pretty cool!



Next up was youth deer weekend here in NY. My youngest(12) and I had been practicing and preparing for his first hunt. I’d gotten permission to hunt a small field that had good deer movement in the evenings. I’d set up a pop up blind ahead of the season, that covered most of the field with good wind. We hunted another spot earlier in the day and didn’t see anything.



About 45 minutes after getting set up in the blind, two does magically appeared in the field. We needed them to feed another 30 yards to our left to have a good, safe line of fire. My son got the rifle ready and we waited, watching the deer feeding calmly in the right direction. When the lead doe was in a good spot, I told my son that he could put the crosshairs right behind her shoulder and fire when he felt solid. At that moment, the deer stopped, perfectly broadside and looked at us. She was 30 yards away. You couldn’t ask for an easier shot. I said, “that’s your shot. Just squeeze the trigger carefully.” He looked like he was really concentrating, or nervous. He didn’t shoot. The deer stood there, looking directly at us; directly into his soul as it turned out. It took me a moment to figure out what was going on, but when it came down to it, he didn’t want to shoot her and he was worried about how I would feel about that. Once I realized, I just told him it was totally fine. “Let’s just put the rifle down and watch them.” That’s what we did. It was humbling and a little uncomfortable to think that he was worried I’d be disappointed. Truly, what I was, was extremely proud of him, and I told him. I said that I was so glad that he didn’t do something that felt wrong and that he would regret. I think that was brave of him. He’s got plenty of time to be around hunting and decide if it feels right and if it doesn’t, that’s ok with me.

 

[Dougfirtree]

From there, I left for a week-long hunt in northern Maine. One of my oldest friends drew a bull moose tag there, for the October season. I was the sub-permittee and I was really excited. If you’ve never been to the North Maine Woods, it’s an experience. To get to where we were staying, on a weekend day, I had to drive up through Quebec, around the top of Maine, then down in and south about 80 miles on logging roads. Logging roads that are infamous for blowing tires, as they’re made of crushed shale. Logging roads where you can encounter an overloaded tandem log truck going the other way on a narrow road. And they will not stop. It’s up to you to get out of their way… 13 hours later, I had made it to our camp and I’d seen two moose on the way in; one cow and one small bull. Things were looking up!





My buddy was joined by his 13 year old son and another friend and the four of us spent the next 5 days hunting moose hard (and hunting grouse on the way to and from moose spots). None of us had ever been to the unit before, but moose sign was everywhere. I’ve never seen a place with such an obviously dense moose population.



That said, while we would sometimes jump moose with our scent, we were having no luck getting a shot at one. Unfortunately, it seemed as if the rut was mostly over and bulls seemed uninterested in coming in to calls. Success seemed to be more determined by our knowledge of moose and especially, our knowledge of the area. Both were lacking… As the week was drawing closer, we really zeroed in on some prime spots and finally had one morning with a bunch of calling. There were several cows and at least one bull calling around us. We got in there, but it seemed the bull was glued to the tail on one cow and we could not turn them around, or get ahead of them. We quite nearly shot a small bull on the side of the road on the drive out, but that opportunity was missed by a few seconds. It’s a strange feeling to eat tag soup on a tag that is so rare and with such a high success rate. That’s a new one for me and I didn’t love it. I think if we had gone into the week knowing what we knew at the end, we’d have gotten one, but in the end, we had a fantastic time and hunted hard. I’m really glad I went and I hope I get the chance to do that again some day!

 

[Dougfirtree]

The early part of deer season here was spent taking my middle son out, trying to find a buck for him. We had some great hunts in beautiful areas, but the bucks weren’t cooperating. The real joy of this time for me, was seeing (and testing) my son’s independence with navigating and hunting alone at times. We would separate and agree on a meeting place and he did great!



I was holding out for the main event. My brother and I made plans for spend a few days camped out in a remote hot-tent camp in a beautiful part of the Adirondacks. We scouted out a spot that we’d been to 20 years ago, or so, and found a good tent site there, over the summer. We spend a few hours putting up a good supply of nice dry hardwood, cut to length for our wood stove.

 

[TX Trophy Hunter]

you’re a good dad!

 

[Dougfirtree]

A snow storm dropped 4 or 5 inches of snow right before our trip and I was pretty much vibrating with excitement heading in. Getting to our spot involved paddling across a lake, then hiking in about a mile through the woods. As we approached our takeout in the canoe, we saw a boat pulled up on shore nearby, then a canvas tent. Shoot. It was a buzzkill to see other people in the area, but the tracks in the snow seemed to show no one was around and knowing most hunters in this area, we figured we’d be back further than most of them would be hunting. We put on some big packs and headed in. When we reached the area where our tent site would be, we looked around for the woodpile. “I’m pretty sure this is the spot…” Right after saying that, we noticed a tree stand in a tree about 50 yards away. Crap. We looked around a little more, thinking that we were pretty sure our woodpile had been under the branches of this little fir… Then I noticed a ziplock bag attached to the little fir. Inside was a note written on paper. It read, “I see that you guys plan on putting a camp here this fall. I respectfully ask if you can relocate. My tree stand is 50 yards away. I also found a couple cameras around mine. We have a group of 7 guys around this area. Thank you and good luck.” He signed with his first name and his phone #.



Now, I will acknowledge that it was cool of him to leave a note and to include his phone #. That said, his tree stand and his cameras (now obvious) were not there over the summer, he clearly put them up later on, seeing our campsite. This is public land and he “respectfully” got rid of our woodpile to help ensure we would relocate.

We were bummed that a group was hunting the area and bummed to lose a good tent site and good firewood. But at this point, we were committed. We knew of a spot a little further in that had a flat place big enough for the tent. We hiked in there and set up. All firewood would have to be collected as we went and it would be wet.

We lost a few hours to the relocating, but did get out for an evening scout/sit. I found a good crossing that deer were clearly using to traverse a swamp. I didn’t see anything that night. I may have muttered some dirty words back in the tent, while trying to get the fire established in the stove, but we got it and were able to dry our clothes off and eat dinner in the heat.



The next morning, we got up early and headed off in separate directions. I spooked a small buck and a doe on my way and finally found a good looking set of buck tracks. I followed them up the hill and they meandered a fair bit, weaving in and out of other deer, as we kept climbing the mountain. I eventually bumped that deer off a ridge and what followed was a fun and maddening day of tracking, with numerous good buck tracks and lots of other tracks too. It was difficult to move fast because there were just a bunch of deer in the area and you had to sort out tracks all the time. Eventually, I came down off the mountain, soaked and tired from walking in the deeper snow up high. I figured I’d still hunt back to the tent and get there about dark. On the way, I passed a really fresh, nice buck track that had just crossed a stream and was heading uphill. It was fresh enough that I thought it might be worth following. I took it a few hundred yards and decided it was not a deer I’d be apt to catch in the remaining hour or so of daylight. But, I realized that I was now in an area I’d passed through that morning, where there was a lot of deer activity. I figured even though my clothes were wet, I would be warm enough to sit for a little while and see if anything came along. I did some grunting and rattling and waited. It had been probably 15 or 20 minutes since I last grunted when I caught some movement. A deer was walking downhill, angling in front of me. I saw antlers through the brush. That part of my brain that decides whether a deer is one I’m interested in, sent an emphatic “yes” to the rest of my body and I brought the rifle up. It would be about a 70 yard shot if he came out in a little opening. I was standing and there was no rest. He made it just shy of the opening and stopped. I was oddly calm about it. I just waited. He started walking slowly again and when he hit that opening, I fired. I could tell that I hit him from the little mule kick and his front legs buckling under him, but it looked a little low to me in the scope. I cycled another round in and tried to get off another shot, but he ran out sight. I radioed my brother and waited 5 or 10 minutes, but daylight was getting short and I did not want to run out if this was going to require another shot.

No blood at the shot site. A few bounds later there were a few drops. My heart began to sink. I walked along the track pretty quickly. There would be a few drops here and there, occasionally a decent spurt, but I was getting more and more convinced that the shot wasn’t good. Judging from my view through the scope I figured that meant a brisket shot.

On the bright side, the deer was slowing down and heading a little closer to where my brother should be. There was only about 15 minutes of shooting light left, so I radioed my brother and told him to move towards where the deer was heading and that I was going to try to catch up to him. I started basically jogging along the track, occasionally getting off on another one, as my deer had almost completely stopped bleeding. I was fighting that sinking sensation that was only getting worse because it had started snowing and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to follow this deer very far in the morning. He took me down to the stream and across. There was about 5 minutes of light left and I was running up the slope on the other side, when I looked up and saw a deer standing broadside, about 50 yards in front of me. It looked pretty big. I had a clear shot at its vitals, but it was getting really dark. I couldn’t tell if it was my deer. I couldn’t see antlers, even through the scope. I was breathing hard from all the jogging. Frustration was high at this point, when suddenly I had the thought, “Hey dumbass, your scope is adjustable!” The deer was still standing there. I reached up and turned the scope up to 8x. There were the main beams of his antler and I now also noticed that the deer was holding one of its front legs up in an awkward way. That was him! I moved the crosshairs to his chest and fired. I remember seeing the muzzle flash and thinking that the shot looked a little high, but decent. He ran out of sight to the right. Just a few minutes of light left, so I ran up to where he’d been standing. No blood. No hair. You’ve got to be kidding me! I ran after him. He sidehilled for 40 or 50 yards, then angled up the hill. My hope was really fading here and I felt like shit. Then something caught my eye up ahead; a dark blob. There was a deer laying on its back about 20 yards in front of me. I could now see the track in the snow from where he slid down the hill, to a little hollow in front of me. He was dead.



That was an intense wave of relief that I experienced just then. I had to take a minute to catch my breath and let that relief pass. I walked towards him and I heard my brother call from about 100 yards away. I let him know the deer was dead. When my brother joined me, we pulled him out and admired what a beautiful buck he was. Deep dark brown antlers that wrapped around close, with tall tines. I didn’t think his body was terribly big, but my brother thought it was. We taped his chest, which I’ve never done before. According to that formula, he would have been about 190 pounds dressed. I’m not sure I believe that. His haunches looked a little narrow to me, but regardless, a really big buck for the Adirondacks and one that I was extremely lucky to shoot and even luckier to recover. To add to the fun, my brother got an in reach message as we were pulling out our knives; his wife had just shot her first buck, literally within minutes of mine (though she was hours away). She got a beautiful 8 pointer and we could not have been happier for her. I’ve never seen a newer hunter work so hard and show so much persistence. It took her a bunch of years to kill her first deer and now she had a gorgeous, mature buck.

Her buck:



We’d both run out of water a while ago and that was a thirsty quartering session. I was tired too and carrying the deer back to camp in my pack was more painful than I wanted to admit… Did I mention that I turned 50 this fall? Anyway, I made it with minimal whining and I slept well that night.

We cut the third day short so my brother could go help butcher his wife’s deer. We did two trips out to the canoe, then paddled back to the car. It was a beautiful, cold day and we did have to break through a little bit of ice here and there by shore.



That was a really fun trip and while I was frustrated by having to collect wet firewood along the way, I loved the hot tent! The ability to carry something like that on your back and be able to dry your clothes out and hang out in camp while warm, is just awesome!

 

[Dougfirtree]

My middle son and I did some more hunting later in November and early December and he had a close call or two. We had one memorable evening together. We’d tracked some bucks that day and he’d gotten really close, but we decided to sit at my parents’ place for a couple hours to close out the day. My brother had gotten some nice bucks on camera there, including this guy.



Deer like this are just not something we see often around here… He didn’t show up that evening, but a beautiful little bear did. It walked right up to the bluff we were on and I eventually yelled at it so it didn’t come up with us. Pretty cool. Neither one of us had a desire to shoot a bear, but we loved seeing it so close!



Nothing came together for middle son until the last weekend of our late muzzleloader season. I had taken a few days to go tracking early in the week and had followed some great bucks and jumped a few, but no shots fired. I saw the biggest buck track I’ve ever encountered in the Adirondacks. That’s my size 13 boot in the pic. His hoof is a solid 3+ inches wide. As usual, I found the fresh, huge track on my way out of the woods and couldn’t follow it!



Back to the kid…we sat on a small hill that evening, hoping for a deer to come by. It would be his last time hunting this year. Any deer was good for him. He wanted meat!

We only sat about 10 minutes before a small doe just appeared 15 yards to our right. She knew something was up, but couldn’t smell us, so we stayed still. She did a big circle around us, that was going to take her into a nice opening he could shoot down. I bleated at her when she hit the opening and he fired. She gave a little hop and ran off out of sight. We found a good blood trail and followed her about 80 yards to where she’d dropped. I let him do the tracking and for once, I remembered to get my camera out and I filmed him following and then finding the deer. I’m glad I did, it’s a cool memory (and my wife got to see, for once)! Our doe turned out to be a button buck and my 16 year old son did the dressing and dragged him out of the woods like a champ.




Great season and lots of fun had! It will be a long wait until next year. I hope yours was good too and good luck to those still at it!

 

[Hem]

Another season come and gone. It was a fun one and I thought I’d share some highlights.

My season started with the youth bird hunting weekend. My middle son and I got out once and after a couple misses, he was able to connect on a pheasant. He learned a lot about hunting with the dog and putting himself in the right spot. Pretty cool!

View attachment 396436

Next up was youth deer weekend here in NY. My youngest(12) and I had been practicing and preparing for his first hunt. I’d gotten permission to hunt a small field that had good deer movement in the evenings. I’d set up a pop up blind ahead of the season, that covered most of the field with good wind. We hunted another spot earlier in the day and didn’t see anything.

View attachment 396437

About 45 minutes after getting set up in the blind, two does magically appeared in the field. We needed them to feed another 30 yards to our left to have a good, safe line of fire. My son got the rifle ready and we waited, watching the deer feeding calmly in the right direction. When the lead doe was in a good spot, I told my son that he could put the crosshairs right behind her shoulder and fire when he felt solid. At that moment, the deer stopped, perfectly broadside and looked at us. She was 30 yards away. You couldn’t ask for an easier shot. I said, “that’s your shot. Just squeeze the trigger carefully.” He looked like he was really concentrating, or nervous. He didn’t shoot. The deer stood there, looking directly at us; directly into his soul as it turned out. It took me a moment to figure out what was going on, but when it came down to it, he didn’t want to shoot her and he was worried about how I would feel about that. Once I realized, I just told him it was totally fine. “Let’s just put the rifle down and watch them.” That’s what we did. It was humbling and a little uncomfortable to think that he was worried I’d be disappointed. Truly, what I was, was extremely proud of him, and I told him. I said that I was so glad that he didn’t do something that felt wrong and that he would regret. I think that was brave of him. He’s got plenty of time to be around hunting and decide if it feels right and if it doesn’t, that’s ok with me.

Some kids just dont take to it. My daughter liked shooting, but communicated before the first youth hunt she really didnt want to shoot a deer. I respected that she voiced her opinion.
We introduced her to our lifestyle at a young age... skiing,hiking, backpacking, fishing, paddleboarding, mountain biking, the whole shebang. Maybe we over did it, she shunned most of it, except skiing. Low and behold she asked me this past summer if I would take her fly fishing.
Highlight of the summer....and she caught fish.
you just never know.

 

[Hem]

That was a GREAT write up of your adventures. Thanks for sharing.
I especially love the canoe picture with the buck onboard. Something extra cool about using a waterway to access hunting ground.