A Great Day To Be Afield

I counted 30 rifle shots by 10 a.m. today, and perhaps it wasn't like the old days when the fields and woods sounded like a war zone, but it was very nice day to be on stand.

A firearm deer hunter couldn't have ordered a better firearm opener than this one. It was cool at daybreak but not cold, and there were enough people moving around to suit me and my wife.

My wife hunted from an elevated coop in the morning and a pit blind in the evening, and saw only two does. My hunting site was down next to a funnel between two dense thickets in the morning. Getting there was all I cared to do.

Hunting with a sore back.

The five bulging discs in my back from a fall last month ago was kicking my backside with every step I took. Physical therapy starts tomorrow, and one part of me looks forward to it. The other part remembers when I went through physical therapy almost 40 years ago, and I'm not anxious to go through another round of it.

My Hunter Orange camo suit was plenty to wear in the 37-degree temperature. I kept it unzipped while walking in, and never had to zip it up all morning.

Dawn spread a golden-yellow glow over the swamp. Normally, I check out my hunting sites ahead of time but this year didn't offer that luxury so I spent 30 minutes familiarizing myself with the area after sun-up. Two deer trails exited the adjoining property, and there were some fresh deer tracks in what remained in the mud left behind by last week's rain.

I studied what could be seen from my vantage point, paid particular attention to any horizontal lines in the vertical growth. Next came picking out holes in the cover through which a shot could be fired should a whitetail buck come easing down the trail, stepping lightly and softly in an effort to avoid detection.

I'd bumped three deer just as I eased off the road and entered the woods. I could distinctly hear three different animals explode from their bedding area and then each one crossed the road in the dark.

I quickly found my spot, sat down, leaned my aching back against the tree, and listened. I heard a deer walk behind me but it was still too dark to shoot. I contented myself with listening as the deer walked off to the south. Ten minutes later I heard two fast shots but had no clue whether that person could tell a buck from a doe in the darkness.

I learned many years ago that two or three rapid shots nearby usually means the hunter has missed, and is throwing up a wall of lead hoping one will hit the animal. Most often the shots miss, but I've found that many such shots just send bucks heading for nearby heavy cover.

There was no heavier cover around than where I sat today. Visibility was limited to 20 feet in some areas and 75 yards in other locations. Nearby shots often send bucks scurrying for thick cover like where I patiently waited.

Getting ready for a possible shot.

About 8:30 this morning, three shots came from a distance of about 200 yards, and I kept my eyes peeled looking for movement. There was nothing for 10 minutes, and then I spotted moving horizontal lines, and there were two deer moving steadily.

They were moving slowly, stopping often, and looking around. They kept their heads down much of the time, and even though my 2.5X10X Swarovski scope has superb optics, it was impossible to grow antlers on either deer. It could have been a buck and doe, a doe and yearling fawn, two bucks, two does, take your pick ... I couldn't determine what they were.

It was a time to hold my fire, and positively identifying one of the animals as a buck before shooting. Something off to their right spooked the animals, and they bolted and headed north.

Another deer, unseen until now, came out of the thick cover. His/her head was down but it had the fattest rump of any deer I've seen in years. That deer was 65-70 yards away, an easy shot for my .264 Winchester Magnum, and the bolt-action rifle came up.

The deer was running directly away from me with its head down, and everything about the animal silently screamed "Buck!" in my brain, but without a good look at the antlers, there was no choice except to not shoot. I picked another hole ahead of the deer, hoping it would turn broadside or quarter-away and offer a look at its antlers (if they existed), but the deer simply turned left into even thicker cover.

Some deer were heard and seen but no bucks.

That was the extent of my four hours of early-morning hunting. Three deer heard and seen, and all were of an unknown sex. The last deer probably was a buck and perhaps a very nice one, but it didn't matter.

Of more importance was getting out of the woods without falling down. My balance is bad because of my injuries, and walking on uneven ground was a daunting task. One awkward step or a slip, and down I'd go with the great risk of further injuring my back. I moved slowly, walked back to the house,  and kicked back in my easy chair. I didn't hunt this evening.

This morning had been a great time for me. No deer were taken but everyone saw some deer, and in the end, it will be a fine thing to remember while someone cranks my legs around tomorrow.

I wish each of you good luck in the days to come. It's unknown how much hunting I'll get to do in the future. I'll know more after tomorrow about how much I'll be able to get out.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors