Tagged Out

9 points
14 1/8 inside spread
very nice mass at the bases and throughout
easily my 2nd best deer to date
currently in third place in the Kuneytown Big Buck Challenge

Got a coyote earlier in the morning.

Kuneytown Youth Hunt!

archery buck

Sorry to post over the "Bone Collector" jack-o-lantern, but I needed to chime in with some deer lore too. I'll keep it short. I filled both my archery tags this week... a nice doe on Thurs and a respectable 7 point buck yesterday. The buck was my first left-handed archery buck. I missed the charmed giant (huge 10 or 11 point) earlier in the week, and decided "freezer first," at least this time.

For the full story, go here.

Horse for Sale...

...or target practice.

For those of you that don't know, Moira was thrown from this horse Wednesday night and suffered a severe spine injury. She is in surgery today, and I am suspended in the wash of all that was, is, and will be. There have been some touch and go moments, but if the surgery goes well, she'll be walking again before we know it. Appeals to whatever gods or deities you make offerings to are appreciated.

COYOTE UGLY

I caught this big male crossing a field on the Canoga Creek Conservancy the other day. Since the season is open and I happened to have a .223 in the truck, I decided to take crack at him. He was about 200 yds out, but the 55gr full metal jacket found its mark. He ran to the edge of the field and it was all over.

See you in the field.

Eric

On Suffering- Antlers Come and Go

I had been seeing him since July- the monarch, the twelve point with drop tines (10 pt plus drops). He was the biggest of the "Gang of Four." The others include a wide 9 (Rich's story) a perfect 8 with wide spread(missed at ten yards in archery by one of the guys that hunts here--I saw him twice during archery but too far), and a huge 7 point. I saw these four bucks many times in velvet together, then during hay making season in August and September. Twice while varmint hunting/ deer scouting armed with a scoped .223 I had them at 50 yards or less, inspected every fiber of the big 12's vital area with the cross-hairs overlay-ed...talk about temptation. Anyway, I knew these four well.

Two evenings ago, after having spent countless hours during shot gun and more recently the muzzle-loading season, I found myself once again reveling in the mediation of suspension by deer stand. I have so enjoyed the hours this year, the time to collect thoughts and put them in quiet places for long periods, the time to focus intently on being aware of being totally present. I was in my third "half hour perfectly still" repetition ( I allow myself a five minute break between these to look around) when I heard a muffled sound to my left and a bit behind me. I moved only my eyes and picked up a fast moving doe. She stood out well against the snow in the fading light of the lead sky.

As I prepared to move slowly to take the doe (thus far I have killed a small buck,no antlers to speak of, in archery and the 11 pt "bizzarro" in shotgun, so I still have excess DMPs), she stopped and looked over her shoulder. I froze, and looked with eyes only, further to the left and rear. There with his nose down and snuffling was the perfect 8, looking just like the picture on the "Wanted" poster of the Gang of Four hanging in my mind and robbing me of sleep for months. He was trailing her by only a few yards, and then, he looked back. Through the whip saplings and briers I could see the monarch. He was cautiously trailing the doe and the 8 pt, but was exhibiting signs of nervousness. The other two deer entered the thicket in which my stand was placed haphazardly...the big boy was not so sure. He sniffed the ground where my footprints were in the snow, walked forward, swung his head down and up quickly, suspicious.

I quickly assessed my situation. Clear shot at the 8 pointer slightly quartering away at 15 yards, or, potential shot at the monarch broadside at 25 yards in a few seconds/steps if he stays on his current left to right path skirting my stand thicket, but a very narrow shooting lane. Decision needed NOW. The decision was the monarch, of course. I got the gun up, a New England Firearms "Sidekick" muzzle-loader with fiber optic sights, and swung with the deer evenly. The deer stepped four times and had his vitals in the shooting lane. I whistled lightly and he stopped. I touched the trigger, heard the snap cap go "pop"...and watched the startled deer take two steps to the right before the follow up "BANG" of the pyrodex powder ignition. The deer squatted at the shot. It was chaos...smoke in my eyes, attempting shot follow through but incredulous and panicked at what I thought probably just happened. Two trophy bucks and a doe running in confused circles under my feet. Physiological reactions to the situation manifesting themselves in my body as I tried, futilely, to reload a muzzle-loader while balancing in a tree-stand wearing a f*#@-ing moon-walking suit. Total soup sandwich.

The big deer ran down the logging trail and I listened for any tell-tale crash but heard none. The other buck stood and stared at me loading my gun, at about 100 yards, right up until I finally had the thing loaded and ready to go. Then he bounded away. It was quiet. I had a bad feeling, like I imagine a professional football player feels when he realizes that the Superbowl has just been lost by one point with seconds remaining on a 3 pt kick that was somehow blocked.

I waited for the woods to settle down and for my hands to stop shaking. I realized that light was fading fast, so rather than wait the obligatory 30 minutes, I descended and slowly puzzled through the tracks in the snow to the point where the buck stood when I shot. It was brushy. I could see the impact of the bullet in the dirt, where it had kicked particles of frozen mud into the pure white snow. There was neither hair nor blood. I looked back upwards toward my stand and guessed at the angle of the bullet. There was a twig recently broken, hanging awkwardly, in the path. Damn... very bad luck. Hit a branch, deflected the bullet. Game over. I blew it.

Antlers come and go.

Tonight, and last night I have sat in the same tree-stand, more out of penance than passion. I have been over the scene many times to be sure I didn't miss something; a speck of blood, a hair. Nothing. Nada. The red gods graced me with a consolation prize tonight, unexpectedly. I shall try once, only once, again and finally, on the morrow.

Chances

Deer hunt opener
Rivers of Rain ran through it
Shifting momentum

Started the morning out at “the club” (Kuneytown): I wanted to start getting to know this property better. I know one spot really, really well now. Cagey and I had looked at some maps and found a nice pinch point between an E/W pond and a N/S hedgerow. Deer had to move through there when people were moving them. I hunched down behind a ground blind at 6:15, and waited in the rain. And waited. A smattering of shots in the distance; nothing close enough to raise my hopes. The rain continued. And then it rained some, followed by some rain. Nothing. I waited. Rain. Quiet. Rain. Cagey called. He had a nice 11 pt buck. Yes!! It rained. I saw a squirrel. And then perhaps 45 minutes later, a crow. It rained. I heard one goose honk. I didn’t move. A river ran down my neck and then my pants. Cagey called again. About noon. He was done tagging and dragging, and would I meet him at the club for breakfast. Yes, I would. After some sausage, taters, and eggs, a measure of vigor was restored.

Time to redeploy! Keith took mercy on me and suggested I sit on the new stand (my old portable) at the S end of the gully at Canoga Creek Farm & Conservancy while he took his buck in for processing. Yup! Great spot; not for those afraid of heights. Even loaned me his slug gun, he did. Rifle sights and non-jamming; both good things. Settled in. Still raining some; not as much. What’s this? 2 does trotting up the gully from the south! Justice served from the 6 pointer I passed up last year (as per QDM directions) that died 15 mins later on the self-same property to the south). They stopped in some whippy brush at a bend of what Cagey says is called “Yellow Ck” (a trib to Canoga). I prefer to think of it as the Tidball Fork of Canoga Ck. About 60 yards; steep downhill. But standing, broadside. The bigger deer more open than the smaller. Held on her shoulder, touched her off, and down she went. Stumbled, fell, regained her feet, and lunged through the brush about 30 yards and then was still. Gave thanks, reflected a few moments and called Keith: still at the farm; we now had two deer to take for processing. I floated her down the raging creek—up to my thighs—I could have been swept away in the torrent to certain destruction!!!, but couldn’t really get any wetter—to where Keith took the 4 wheeler.

Time to relax, to bask in the glow of “to have hunted”. A mellow trip to the butcher, some good-natured ribbing by the boys there about the quality of the deer gutting by these Cornell types (fancy tools only work if’n you remember to USE ‘em). Even the rain letting up, beautiful orange glow suffusing the water vapor (the earth is about 98% water rather than 70%). Life is good….hey, what’s this???!!! A huge 9 pt buck in the field?! Cagey had his shotgun, I had 2 random slugs in my pocket. “Do you want him?” asked my Professional Hunter. Uhm…yeah…why wouldn’t I? But I felt strangely detached—transition too abrupt from mellow to predatory. We pulled off the road and did a hasty sneak across leased lands; me fumbling to load a weapon totally new to me. Crab-walked up a fencerow. As my Professional Hunter had known he would be, the buck was in the corner. This was my chance. How the **** do you take this thing off safe and turn on the red dot scope???! Knelt and took aim at about 80-85 yds—a long shotgun shot for me. Touched it off. In replaying this the next morning, I can laugh a little: I jerked my head up from the stock to watch that buck fall—like a golfer looking up to watch his drive and missing entirely—but of course he did not fall. Nor did he run away. Just stood there. I still felt strangely arms-length about the whole thing. This deer was huge, and he was still standing there. Did I have another slug? I did. Should I put it in the gun? I suppose. Why not? I belly crawled another 5 yards, put the dot on the top of the bucks spine, and touched trigger. This time, perfect. And the deer again just stood there and I was out of shells, out of luck, out of time. What a helpless feeling. Off he ambled, and we walked back to the truck, quietly. In thinking about it this morning, I didn’t get that deer because I somehow just couldn’t quite get back into predator mode: it felt too easy somehow, I was too mellow, and I couldn’t yank myself back into the moment. Cagey was very kind to me: he has seen—and felt—this kind of thing in Africa. Chances come quickly, and they go quickly. A very good opening day, and lessons learned.

Canoga Creek Deer Opener 2008 (shotgun)

Rich and I had a great opening day...there are good stories to follow.

Click below on the picture for details on the buck.

Canoga Creek Brookie

My local Trout Unlimited Chapter continues to take an interest in Canoga Creek. We worked hard to get DEC to allow the stocking of Brook Trout in Canoga Creek and succeeded, bringing the fish back to a creek they have been absent from for over thirty years. I was fortunate to catch one on a little bee pattern delicately presented in front of a mini-log jam in about 1 foot of water. Sweet satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment for the Canoga Creek.