The Buck of the Year – Part 2

The season had been a rough one up until bow season ended.  I only let one arrow fly, and because of some tall weeds I made a bad shot on a really nice deer.  Luckily I didn’t let my head fall too far down because I was able to get back motivated to hunt.  I had to remind myself a few times about why I hunt.  I had to remember that antlers don’t feed families, and that it didn’t matter if it was a doe or a buck.  I was just happy to be back in a stand after my 2-year deer hunting hiatus.


Bow season came and went, and it was the night before the gun opener. I was excited to get out because my wife was coming with me.  It’s something we do traditionally on opening day of gun season.  In years past she had only shot at one deer, and a tree stood in her way.  The first time she ever hunted was in 2006. I put her in a climber, and I continued on to hunt a different spot.  She said she didn’t really care for the climbing stand, and she seemed a little lost and confused about what to do.  Hoping to help her a little more this season, I decided I’d sit with her instead of separating.

Amanda and I with her first deer.

The morning of November 12th was brisk, and quite windy.  We pulled into our spot, and geared up.  We had made really good time, and I knew we’d be in our stand well before daylight.  Wade and I had two two-man ladder stands on the property. Amanda (my wife) and I went to a stand that stood at the top of a tall hill.  It was open weeds in front of us, to our left was a freshly cut cornfield, and to our right was a 4-wheeler trail that led down to a creek bottom. We watched as some does moved into the field shortly after daylight as Nature painted the sky.  They were about 200 yards out, and too far for our slug guns. The deer, the field, the cool air, and the array of colors in the sky made me feel so free. Plus I was with great company. Amanda was cold, but she seemed to be enjoying sitting with me this time. A young coyote made his way past us, and Amanda just thought that was the neatest thing.  As soon as he passed I noticed movement about 45 yards in front of us in the woods.  It was a deer’s head. It was a buck! He was just laying on the side of the hill.  I wondered how long he’d been there, and how I hadn’t seen him. However his camouflage was quite better than my own.  I pointed him out to Amanda, and we watched him for over an hour.  He wouldn’t get up.  We called, we made noise, and ever debated on taking a shot where he laid.  Almost and hour and a half after we first saw him I hear a crashing noise on past him.  I was excited thinking it may be a bigger deer.  It wasn’t, it was Wade coming to get us. He nearly walked on top of the deer not knowing where it was. The buck finally jumped up, and ran diagonal in front of us.  He ran right to our shooting hole. I told Amanda to “Shoot Him!” Amanda pulled up her gun, and BANG! The young buck dropped in his tracks!  She was so excited she started to cry.  The wave of emotions came over me also, and I could barely breath I was so happy for her.  Shortly after, we were down standing over him. He was a young 1-1/2 year old basket 7 point; her very first deer, and one my favorite memories.  Hopefully this would change my luck, too.


I’ve taught Amanda almost everything she knows about hunting.  However she kneeled down to him, and thanked the deer for his sacrifice, and that’s something I didn’t teach her.  I then had a reminder of why I fell in love with this girl.   She shed a tear, sad about taking a life, but happy to provide the most organic meal available.   She thanked Mother Nature and the deer again. Shortly after she got to learn the task of dragging a deer!  Even though this will stand the test of time for being one of my best days ever in the field, it still wasn’t quite the buck of the year.


We spent the next day or so butchering Amanda’s buck.  She always loves the task of cutting up the meat.  It’s great to have the help, and from a girl that isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.  We just put on a DVD, get the TV trays out, and start cutting.  We decided to take half of the deer to the processor for some of their famous summer sausage.  The other half was still quite a bit.  I forgot how much meat is on a buck compared to a doe. I still managed to get out those couple of days that we were butchering, but with no luck. The rut was in full swing, and the weather was shaping up nicely.  Everyone around me was harvesting deer, and it was looking to be a great season for a lot of folks.  Monday came and I was back to work.  The place I work is very lenient on time off, and I am able to leave at 2:30 each day to hunt the evenings.  I only missed about 4 days total in bow seasons, and I hadn’t missed a single day of gun.  I hunted every day that week, and gun season was slowly coming to an end.

Keeping warm doing gun season.

Thursday, November 17 came and now I was knocking on D-Day’s (Duck Day) front door. That’s typically when the deer gear gets put up, and the waterfowling gear comes out.  I figured I’d hunt over the weekend, and then call it quits to start focusing on ducks.  That day I was out of work a little later than usual leaving at 3:00pm.  I picked up Wade and we headed for our spot, the same spot Amanda shot her deer.  However, I went for my normal stand about 100 yards from where Amanda and I sat.  I was basically on a creek bottom in a funnel of hills.  I hunt these funnels a lot.  This particular spot is the same stand where I wounded the buck in bow season.  It was cold, and we had a slight wind from the north.  Conditions were perfect.  The night was fast approaching, and I was dug into a pretty good John Connely book.  I finished the chapter I was reading, and closed the book.  As soon as I unzipped my pack I heard a fast paced crunch.  I looked up, and running right down the trail was a nice buck.  My first thought was that I had to make quick action if I was going to harvest this deer. He was headed right down the main trail.  I pulled up, clicked the safety off, aimed and BOOM!  He stopped. Looked my way, and ran again.  Collecting my thoughts… and then BOOM… shot number two…  He jolted, kicked, stopped again, I expected him to fall, but he looked back at me while swaying like he was woozy.  “Screw it,” I thought. BOOM! Shot number three. With the third shot he sprinted away, but he again stopped, looked back at me, looking even more like he was hurting.  “What the heck is going on!?" I asked myself. "I know I definitely hit him on shot two, maybe one, and most likely three.”  This was the wildest thing I’d ever encountered.  “Screw it,” Reload.  BOOM…. Shot number four.  He ran again, but with a lot less intensity. He made it out to a grass field, and was looking back through the woods at me. He staggered and swayed, and I started to wonder if he'd fall right there. Remembering all the bucks that got away, I thought again. “Hell, I’ll try... Not going to hurt anything now”  Through the woods  “BOOM” shot number five, and with that he finally was out of sight.  My phone was vibrating from Wade texting, he thought there was a war going on at my stand.  I texted him back, and as soon as I put my phone up…. CRASH.  I heard the deer fall.


Now if that isn’t the wildest thing you’ve ever read, just wait.  Wade got to my stand and made some wise crack about my buck fever and awful shooting.  I told him I knew I made a good shot, but it wasn’t enough to drop him.  Then I made several more trying to seal the deal, but I knew shot number two was good. In all honesty I probably could have stopped shooting after number two. I didn't want another deer wounded, and wanted to seal the deal. Number one was taken so quick I wasn’t sure.  This was a running deer after all.  What I couldn’t believe is that the shots seemed to stop him each time. That was what I couldn’t comprehend.

Follow the trail.

We walked to where he was and we found blood.  We also found gut matter, so I knew I had made a fatal, but hard to track shot. Shooting full speed running deer is tough, but I knew I hit him.  We followed blood about 40 yards to where he was in the grass field.  That’s where our property ends and another owner’s property begins.  Luckily our good friend owns and hunts the adjoining property, and he decided to come help track it.  With permission, Wade and I followed the blood up to the woods.  We walked in, shined our lights, and there he was lying in snake grass.  He wasn’t quite expired, and he stared right back at us. I got a good look at him then. He was a decent 8 pointer with a rack taller than wide. I was happy with my decision. We backed out hoping he wouldn’t get up. This boy was hurting, but I couldn’t maneuver to get a shot in him on the ground.  So we back out and went to the truck hoping he’d die and not suffer too much. Wade said he thought he heard him get up, but wasn’t sure.  He was only about 75 yards from my stand at this point.

My buck of the year.

We ran to town, got a soda, and met up with the other landowner.  We took an easier route back to the last spot we saw him.  He was so close to death we thought the extra time was plenty. With rain in the forecast we had to go that night, otherwise I would’ve just gone back in the morning.  When we got back to the last spot we saw him…. Wade was right, and the buck was gone.  He managed to get up and move out. Even more respect for this tough creature was gained then. We searched the area for about 45 minutes, we couldn’t find any blood past where he was laying down. In the back of my mind I again knew I wouldn’t find him. Such an awful feeling.  Every buck I’d shot and harvested from this point and before had dropped on the first shot. Every buck that has run after the first shot has gotten away, so I almost expected not to find it.  We were talking about leaving because darkness was coming quick.  I decided I’d take the next day off and look for him. Wade and I were about to head back when the other landowner hollered “I’ve got blood!”  It was about 45 yards from where the deer was laying.  We followed that blood over a creek, and to hill that was basically straight up. There was really good blood headed up the hill. I went around to a cut out in the hill that was a little easier for me to get up. I peaked over the hill and shined my light, and there he was.  Again looking at me, and still not expired.  He wasn’t moving though.  He was hurt, and I felt bad for him.  I looked at my phone to see the time, and I had less than two minutes before shooting light ended.  I hollered to make sure everyone was clear, and I pulled up the gun.  Finally shot number six was the fatal blow.  It was about time that my luck had changed, and this bionic deer made me work for it.  He put me through an emotional roller coaster, but I was glad to finally harvest my buck of the year. I honestly wouldn’t have had it any other way. This was one tough boy, and he did everything he could to survive. Again I have an immense amount of respect for this animal.

My buck of the year.

After getting him home and skinned, we found four holes in him.  I figured I missed on the first and the fifth. The first was hard since he was in a dead sprint.  The fifth was through the woods.  I know the second was the best shot. He was a tough deer to run the way he did with three shots in him. All four shots were in about the same place. One was a little high, and two were back around the first rib on his rib-cage. I probably didn't lead enough when he was running. The fatal and last shot from when he was on the ground was diagonal through the lungs into the heart. I learned a lot from this deer, and mostly to BACK OUT if you know it’s a gut shot.  With rain in the forecast I had to make a tough decision, and I didn’t want to chance it on this deer.  Hopefully in years to come I’ll have a smoother story to tell. For now this deer isn’t just the buck of the year, but the buck of the decade, that ended an era for this Indiana outdoorsman.                     
(Joey W. Buttram – Willowpine Outdoors)