Finally...Success Saturday Evening 12/11/10
Posted: Fri Dec 17, 2010 9:03 pmMade my way to a latter Saturday afternoon only to be greeted with a drizzle. Not caring to get wet, I opted for "Plan B"...a tent ground blind with a feeder about 70 yds. to the north. Rain stops and I decided to spray a little Tinks around the blind. Within about 15 minutes, my first visitors show up...
After convincing them to move on, I figured the scent they managed to leave left me with little chance of even seeing a deer let alone harvesting one! About 1 1/2 hours later a shot rings out about 600 yds. to my south. Get on the radio and ask Bob Lee what he got. Bob had just set up his climber that afternoon and dropped a nice doe.
About 40 minutes go by and the woods have settled. Mosquitoes really starting to get hungry now! About 100 yds. to my north I spot movement. Slowly, I raise the trusty old Winchester Model 70 to get ready and get a better look only to see part of the antlers disappear into the woods. I feel my heart drop just knowing the deer either caught movement or scent of dogs, me or just maybe to much Tinks 69. Sun starting to settle more and the woods fade into that darkness that tells you the minutes are coming to an end. The woods where I first picked him up are barely visable now. All of a sudden I see movement again...now at the feeder that is in front of me. I raise my rifle again to scope the crafty animal and can clearly see he is a fine deer. Carefully counting antlers, time and shakey nerves are now becoming a factor. He has been at this feeder before and knows he should not walk out into a clearing, but the rut is near and battles have left him hungry and the sweet lure of golden grain calls him. Thinking I'll have to really test my marksmanship, I train the crosshairs on his neck and as darkness continues to creep, the corn on the very edge of the thicket providing his concealment thins forcing him to take that crucial step exposing the shoulder. Slightly moving the crosshairs to the shoulder, I gently squeezed the trigger and felt the recoil then seen fire fly from the muzzle. Looking through the scope I could see one leg sticking up in the air. The 270's Remington 150 grain Core Lock had done it's job and dropped the magnificent animal in his tracks.
He by all means is not a trophy deer by many hunters' standards, but he is my best deer yet. More importantly, I took him hunting with friends and the memories are life-long. Thanks for the hunt Bob.
After convincing them to move on, I figured the scent they managed to leave left me with little chance of even seeing a deer let alone harvesting one! About 1 1/2 hours later a shot rings out about 600 yds. to my south. Get on the radio and ask Bob Lee what he got. Bob had just set up his climber that afternoon and dropped a nice doe.
About 40 minutes go by and the woods have settled. Mosquitoes really starting to get hungry now! About 100 yds. to my north I spot movement. Slowly, I raise the trusty old Winchester Model 70 to get ready and get a better look only to see part of the antlers disappear into the woods. I feel my heart drop just knowing the deer either caught movement or scent of dogs, me or just maybe to much Tinks 69. Sun starting to settle more and the woods fade into that darkness that tells you the minutes are coming to an end. The woods where I first picked him up are barely visable now. All of a sudden I see movement again...now at the feeder that is in front of me. I raise my rifle again to scope the crafty animal and can clearly see he is a fine deer. Carefully counting antlers, time and shakey nerves are now becoming a factor. He has been at this feeder before and knows he should not walk out into a clearing, but the rut is near and battles have left him hungry and the sweet lure of golden grain calls him. Thinking I'll have to really test my marksmanship, I train the crosshairs on his neck and as darkness continues to creep, the corn on the very edge of the thicket providing his concealment thins forcing him to take that crucial step exposing the shoulder. Slightly moving the crosshairs to the shoulder, I gently squeezed the trigger and felt the recoil then seen fire fly from the muzzle. Looking through the scope I could see one leg sticking up in the air. The 270's Remington 150 grain Core Lock had done it's job and dropped the magnificent animal in his tracks.
He by all means is not a trophy deer by many hunters' standards, but he is my best deer yet. More importantly, I took him hunting with friends and the memories are life-long. Thanks for the hunt Bob.
