The buck’s revenge

This buck later gored me in the head as I hung the mount.

My taxidermist had just delivered mounts of both whitetail bucks I shot a few years ago. One was a beautiful typical 8-point that was taken on Oct. 2 at 10 paces with an arrow through the heart and lungs.

The other buck was a 9-point taken late in the firearm season. He had two antler tines broken halfway off during a rutting fight, and one beam had the beginning of what would have made him a 10-point if it hadn't quit growing.

I was particularly proud of the 8-point. It is a lovely rack, and we determined it would look best if hung low (about head-high) on the wall. But, we reached that conclusion only after we tried hanging him high on the wall.

It was one of those times when I should have known better … but didn’t.

A wobbly short stepladder was used, and I had to reach up over my head and hang the mount on a sturdy nail pounded into a stud. After it was hung, we both decided the buck had to be hung lower to show off his rack to its best effect.

There was no cure for it but to scale the wobbly ladder again, stretch way up on my tippy-toes, lift the head off the nail. All good plans, but my balance is bad from my one-eye vision, and just as the mount came off the nail, I began losing my balance.

One hand held the mount by one antler, and as I wobbled around in an effort to keep from falling, the rack spun in my hand. This deer had it in for me for shooting him while he sparred with a 10-point buck.

The buck took some revenge on me while off-balance,

The rack pivoted around, and the G-2 on the opposite side swung and dug a small divot out of my scalp. I muttered, struggled for balance, and Kay was there to grab the mount before I fell and impaled myself on his tines.

I climbed down off the ladder, rubbing my head, and we proceeded to find another location where the deer could be hung lower, show off his spread and tine length to better advantage. He was hung up there, and we stepped back to admire him. Perfect!

The 9-pointer was mounted with his ears back and in an aggressive looking mood. He could go up higher on the wall, but first I was going out to the garage and get a taller ladder so I'd have better control over the mount.

Up I went like an arthritic old squirrel. Kay handed up the mount, and I messed around for five minutes before I could get the nail in the mounting hole. Then, Kay stood across the room offering instructions.

"Move the bottom of the mount to your left," she advised. "No, another two inches to the left. Uh, another inch. Nope, one more inch. That's it."

Me, ladders and mounted critters have always had an odd relationship.

I climbed down off the stepladder, and my head hurt a bit. I rubbed it, and my fingers came away bloody. The antler tine had scraped my scalp and broke the skin.

My head was rubbed a few times, and slowly the bleeding had stopped. The two shoulder mounts had been hung in place, jiggled around until they offered the best view, and we straightened up the furniture.

We stood back, studying both racks, and it was a done deal. Both animals remind me of when each one was taken. The 9-pointer had come out of some tag alders, and was walking across the field at 5 p.m., and his ears were laid back and his neck hairs were sticking up.

He was spoiling for a fight, and the two antler tines that were half broken off, may have felt like a toothache. One shot from Kay's .243 Thompson/Center rifle had anchored him on the spot.

That season had been a good one. It was just about a year to the day though when we started to hang both mounts.

A slip of my grip, and a moment of being off-balance, was enough for the 8-pointer to peel my scalp. That deer ultimately got his revenge.

Somehow the whole experience seems fitting and a bit funny. I thought perhaps you might enjoy hearing about how a buck knocked me around.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors