Back To Where It All Began

Cold doesn't come close to this morning's hunt. I hunt in Bama & when you're talking single digits in terms of the temperature, you're talking Yankee to this good ol' boy. The frost was so heavy it looked like four inches of snow on the ground. I was dressed with so many layers I couldn't raise my arms over my head... this made climbing up into my stand quite an experience. I was hunting a power line that had been planted in green as far as the eye could see. It's the exact same spot where I killed my first deer. I was in the fourth grade, sitting with my dad & an eight point ran out right on top of us. I dropped him with a .410. I've been addicted to hunting ever since. Almost 20 years later, it's still one of my favorite & most sentimental places to be. I've always seen lots of deer from this stand, but that first 8 point was the best I had taken to date. This was the third year in our "6 points or better rule" and I was hoping to better my best this season. But this morning it was COLD! COLD! COLD! I had been sitting about an hour questioning my sanity & pining for my warm bed & a stoked fire when a doe stepped  into the field. It really shocked me to see a deer in the field that early this morning as they usually wait until the sun starts melting the frost & then pour into the fields. I thought it was strange, but I was very interested in seeing how she was going to eat a frozen breakfast. She didn't even nibble. She walked out,  stopped, looked left down the line away from me, looked right up the line toward me, then looked behind her & bolted straight up the line toward me. I warmed up quickly! I shouldered my rifle expecting 'big boy' to be right behind. Instead, a yearling stumbled out looking very tired & confused. I watched her run in the woods right beside my stand & the little one followed her, struggling to keep up. I was deflated & starting to feel the cold creep back in. I looked at the spot where the two came into the field, then looked left to where the sun was just starting to hit the field. When I looked back down the line I saw him... a large buck standing in the edge of the field where the doe had stepped out. I raised my rifle, but before I could get him in my scope, he jumped back into the woods the way he came out. I blew it! I should have kept my eye on that spot & my rifle shouldered. I had just started kicking myself when I caught movement low to the ground from the same spot. I quickly shouldered my rifle & my heart jumped into my throat. It was my buck coming back out with his nose to the ground. He had simply lost the doe's scent & back tracked to make sure she came that way. He stepped out slightly quartering toward me & I dropped the hammer on him. He ran about 70 yards & piled up. He was a perfectly symmetrical 8 point. As corny as it sounds, I almost teared up when I got to him. 3 years of letting spikes & 4 points walk had payed off big time. Proper management, backed with dedication & determination, had brought the magic back to a magical place where it all began.

Written By Donny McCaa