Antlers: Beautiful headgear

A buck with good mass is a sight to behold
photo Dave Richey ©2012

Granted, it’s only mid-June. A buck’s antlers are really starting to grow but we’ve got two months to go before we have any idea whether the buck will wear a small or wide rack
It's not that a basket-rack 8-point isn't pretty, because it most certainly is, but beauty is always in the eyes of the beholder. Some whitetail bucks simply have a great deal of class, and others do not. And now is the time to say it: what turns me on may not turn your crank.

Two things that make for a beautiful rack include overall mass and points. A buck with good mass is a sight to behold. Some people favor a typical rack, and they can be stunning with high points and a wide spread, but I really enjoy seeing a non-typical buck.

It’s a personal issue for most hunters, but for me, bucks that have antler bases that most bow hunters can't get their hand around are truly breathtaking. Such animals are old, and it’s the sheer massiveness of their antlers that makes us gasp in amazement.

Hunters all appreciate the majesty of a big rack of antlers.

Locating, and hunting nothing but one big buck, is one of bow hunting's greatest challenges. Finding the buck's home range is important, and then trying to pattern the animal can be a lengthy and time consuming effort, but when properly done and with some luck, the end result is a thing of wonder.

I will hunt any big buck I find. Some years are better for big bucks than others, but often I’ll locate at least one nice buck and sometimes I shoot him. A good buck avoided me two years ago, and the same happened again last fall when I fell off my back steps, but seeing a buck with that much mass and so many points, puts a fire in my belly.

Seeing the animal within bow range is the frosting on a bow hunter’s cake. Making a successful shot is nothing more than the icing on the cake.

I look for classy looking bucks. There is something about a symmetrical rack that is delightful to see, and there is something about those freaks of nature -- the non-typical -- that capture my attention as well. I also like really high racks as well.

Non-typical bucks have so much going on with their rack that it is difficult to make a really adequate assessment of size on short notice, and can lead to disappointment. I look for drop tines, kicker points, sticker points, out-of-balance racks with one side higher than the other. To me, deer with drop tines are really something special, especially if the drop point is long and/or thick.

One fairly common non-typical is one with double brow points on each side, and one look at such a buck gives the impression of Richard Nixon giving the peace sign with both hands. Double brows on one side are fairly common, and there are always a few bucks with double brow points on each side.  A fairly common non-typical may have a third main beam on one side but I’ve never seen one with two main beams on both sides.

A buddy saw a non-typical last year that was much higher on one side, had more points on that side, and he was an impressive looking animal even through his rack wouldn't have scored very high because the rack was so far out of balance.
There are a fair number of big, heavy, high and wide typical bucks that offer the viewer a huge thrill. These bucks have excellent mass, 10 or 12 points with very large G-2s and G-3s, a wide spread and there is little doubt among viewers that they are looking at a very special buck.
Most truly large-racked bucks are large bodied as well. The neck on some look as big around as a barrel. See one of these huge bucks, and the skin seems loose around the neck, and when the animal turns its head, the rolls of skin move with it.

Three-beamers have three main beams rather than two
photo Dave Richey ©2012

Good herd management give bucks more time to grow larger racks.

Time is the major reason why big bucks grow to such a large size. In reality, most hunters shoot the first buck with antlers they see. These 1 1/2-year-old bucks have tiny racks, and once they've been killed, there is never a chance for them to grow any larger.

Many hunters can feel free to disagree with me, but if most of us passed on these small bucks every year, and other hunters in the area did the same, within three years they would be seeing and shooting massive bucks.

Sportsmen who are content with shooting a small basket rack and continues  to shoot them, will never see a big-racked buck. Those who instead choose to shoot a doe are doing the right thing, but it's right only if everyone plays by the same rules. It is one reason why Quality Deer Management rules are effective; only large bucks qualify to be shot. That allows smaller bucks more time to grow high-quality racks.

Shooting a real trophy is a difficult thing to accomplish in this or any other state. One must either be very lucky or very good at hunting to pull off this trick more than once or twice during a lifetime of hunting.

And contrary to what the hosts of television hunting shows may say, a deer does not have horns. They have antlers, and they should know better.

Antlers begin growing in the spring before shedding the velvet and turning hard in the early autumn, Horns, such as those found on cattle and sheep, continue to grow through the life of the animal. There is no excuse for calling the headgear of whitetail deer by something can’t and don’t have. Deer have antlers, not horns.

Q & A about deer hunting

Green woods or snowy terrain, feel safe when drawing on a buck.

Over many years, readers have asked me countless questions about deer and deer hunting, and they are often duplicated. Each one is answered in some detail, but seldom is this information shared with other readers of my daily weblog.

Here are several questions asked of me in the past couple of weeks as we prepare for the end of the archery and muzzleloader deer seasons soon.

I could fill a book with questions I’ve answered in recent years.

Q. - Are you happy when all the deer seasons finally end after three months?

A. - No, I'm never happy to see the season end. But then, I often go out and sit in the woods and watch for deer providing they aren't yarded up. There is no bow or firearm with me, but I'm studying deer habits, travel routes, and it is all a necessary part of hunting. I'll spend an average of 87 of the 90-day season hunting, and watching it end feels like I'm losing an old friend.

Q. - What kind of a tree stand appeals to you?

A. - I enjoy an open tree stand where playing the wind is necessary. I use the Gorilla brand ladder stands made by Eastman Outdoors. They go up easy, come down easy, and put me about 15 feet off the ground. They are safe, stable, easy to climb, and work for me.

I like these easy questions.

Q. - Name your favorite trees for a tree stand? And why?

A. -- C'mon, that's too easy: Cedars. I prefer to sit back in the shadows of overhead boughs with heavy limbs on both sides. The only place I need to shoot is out in front and a bit to my left. I prefer deer to pass the stand from behind me and to my left, and that angle provides me with an easy broadside or quartering-away shot.

Q. - Do you cut shooting lanes for bow or firearm seasons?

A. - No, and here's my reason why. Remove a bunch of small trees, branches and other cover such as leaves, and it removes the reason why bucks travel in that direction. I note where deer travel, pick a hole in the brush to shoot an arrow or bullet through, and do as little to disturb the area as possible. I hear most deer before I ever see them.

Q. - How often (days in a row) will you sit in the same stand?

A. - Much depends on the circumstances, but I try to sit in a different stand every evening or morning. If I've got a a big buck coming through on a regular basis, and if the wind is in my favor for two days in a row, I will probably sit in the same spot both days. The big problem is it is very easy for deer to pattern a hunter, and it becomes easier the more often you hunt a particular stand. I get bored sitting in one stand, looking at the same trees day after day, and when we leased land, we had several tree stands and several coops or box blinds scattered around. It was easy to hunt a different stand almost every day. It paid off with good bucks.

Q. - What is your biggest fear associated with deer hunting?

A. - Getting spotted climbing into the stand or being winded. Each location has a minimum of two routes in and two out, and I always rotate how I approach a stand. Even if I hunt the same stand twice in eight days, the second time I walk to the stand is by a different route than I used a week before. I always leave the stand by a different route than when entering it. Some of my stands have three and even four ways into and away from them.

I’m now obsessed with personal safety while treestand hunting.

Q. - Any other fears?

A. - Oh, sure. I have a healthy fear of falling. I've fallen several times in the past, but was never injured. As I get older, and as my vision worsens in my remaining good right eye, I've become more obsessed with insuring greater personal safety. I began wearing a Rescue One 'CDS'  (Controlled Descent System) full-body harness from Mountaineer Sports <mountaineer-sports.com> every time I hunt from a tree.

It affords me much greater protection while climbing up a tree or ladder, climbing down, and while in the stand. I’d rather be out without my bow or firearm than be without this safety harness, ascend-descend line, and Lineman’s Safety Rope and Treestand Anchor Strap. There is a much greater peace of mind when knowing you are safe at all times.

Q. - What is the biggest problem for most archery deer hunters to solve?

A. - Playing the wind. The hunter must be downwind or down and slightly cross-wind whenever they hunt. How you avoid having deer wind you is up to you. Simply hunting only when you can have deer upwind of your position is great. Some hunters believe in Scent-Lok suits, as I do, and others believe in sprays that help eliminate human odor. Being downwind of deer offers a great advantage. If the wind switches, leave that spot to avoid being winded and blowing a good stand.

Q. - Do you wear rubber boots? Are you that fanatical?

A. - Yes, I am that fanatical. Most of the time I wear knee-high rubber boots, but if I must walk through tall marsh grass I'll often wear hip-boots or rubber waders. Years ago, when I wore leather boots, more than one deer trailed me to my stand. They don't trail me now. I also try not to touch any vegetation with my clothing or skin.

Q. - Why do you pass up bucks that others would shoot?

A. - That's easy. I've shot over 270 deer during my lifetime, and no longer derive any satisfaction from shooting small bucks. I'd rather hunt for an old doe because they offer more of a challenge than a young buck. Hunting doesn't always mean a kill for me, and if a wee 6-point comes by, I draw and aim as if I'm going to shoot, and then ease off and let him walk. I no longer need to kill a buck every year, and I didn't shoot one during last season, but passed up numerous bucks I could have shot. Passing up bucks can be more fun than shooting one because it means you've completely fooled them.

Stay tuned and we'll do this (answering questions) again soon.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors

Fritz, my best bird dog

Today marked the opener of the 2010 pheasant season, but it was one I missed. Many reasons kept me closer to home: one-eyed vision, no dog, far fewer birds now than back in the 1960’s, and a lack of enthusiasm for what once was my favorite field sport.

Now, although there are still some roosters, their numbers are far fewer than back in the 1950s and 1960s. In those halcyon days, pheasant numbers had peaked, and a short one-day hunt would feature more flying roosters in a day than a hunter could see now in a season of hunting.

For me, it was never about shooting a two-bird limit. It was about hunting the fallow and weed fields with a fine dog.  Here’s a few things about my old pointer and my hunts back in those good old days.

Fritz, the wonder dog

Know this: There is really something very special that happens to your heart when a solid-as-Sears pointer slams to a stop, lifts a front foot and his stubby tail goes rigid.

It has happened to me many times. I’d walk in behind a great point, shotgun at port arms, and look in front of and over the dog and 10 yards away.  Too many people study the ground  immediately in front of the dog, and a pointer may be on a bird that is 10-20 yards ahead or to either side. Fine field work is what endears good dogs to their owner.

The pleasures of owning a dog died with my German shorthair, Fritz, who came with some truly great bloodlines and who died many years ago at 13 years. There were many reasons why no others have entered my life, and losing my old friend was the major one.

Fritz, like many shorthairs, was bullheaded and stubborn to a fault. He could get into more trouble than a fox in a hen-house, and in his early years he always seemed to think he was hunting for himself. He didn’t realize that he was supposed to hunt with me in return for his daily meals and in respect to the man who brought him to the dance.

He was a terror, and his idea of hunting was to be a half-mile and three fallow fields ahead of me. I’d work him on a long leash, and he’d sit, heel and was steady to wing and shot as long as the rope snugged him in at about 25 yards. Take the lead off, and he attempted to set a new speed record for crossing three open fields and blindly busting one pheasant after another along the way.

Finally, in dark desperation after finally catching him after a long sprint, I loosened his collar a bit, stuck one of this dark front paws through the collar, and turned him loose. He made one step and fell over whining. I got him back up on three legs, and he tried to run off again. He was scolded and told to hunt close.

Training Fritz to hunt close was a humbling experience

An hour later, feeling sorry for the dog, I pulled his foot out and off he went like he had a booster rocket under his tail. Another long-winded sprint, and my feelings of regret changed to one of quickly solving this problem. The next two days he hunted on three legs, and wasn’t happy about it but he stayed within 25 yards of me.

He worked the cover slow and cast from side to side, and we put up hens and roosters over his rather lop-sided points, and I’d praise him in person and to anyone who would listen, and after two days of punishment, we went out the third day.

We had a heart-to-heart chat about his past behavior, and more recent ways of staying close, and he seemed to pay attention. It was a gamble worth taking, and I slipped his foot from his collar. He looked at me, and I patted his head and said “Hunt close,” and he began hunting into the wind. He cast back and forth, and never exceeded the 25-yard maximum. A soft “Whoa” was all I needed to steady him.

He locked onto point, and I whispered Whoa to him, lifted his tail, and he looked like a granite carving. I stepped in front, saying “Steady now,” and he was rock solid. The ringneck pheasant lifted into the air with a raucous cackle, his long-barred tail streaming out behind, and I swung with the bird and down he came.

Fritz, after his introduction to a lead rope and the foot through the collar, never gave me another problem. He hunted grouse, pheasant and woodcock, and his expertise was superb. He would hunt with the neighbor kids, and there were only two rules for the kids who hunted him: hunt safely and don’t shoot at low-flying birds.

Nothing a vet could do would cure mt beloved friend

The last year of his life was a painful ordeal. His hips were shot from arthritis, and he always begged me to take him. We’d hunt near home, and he would gimp through the fields. His hips were bad but it didn’t affect his hearing or nose.

He’d zero in on cackling roosters at dawn, and we’d move on them when shooting time opened. With luck we’d take two quick roosters, and then it was a slow and painful walk home for a dog in great pain. I’d pat his head, tell him I loved him, and he’d wag his bobbed tail enthusiastically.

Our last hunt came a few days later. A magazine deadline was met, I grabbed my shotgun, got Fritz up and headed out. He slowly worked two different birds, both were roosters, and my shooting was better than what I deserved. Fritz pointed, and I shot both birds, and then he sat down. I kneeled beside my old friend as he whined and shivered with pain, and I picked him up and carried him home, knowing that he’d  run has last bird through thick pheasant cover.

Two days later, in late-October as cold winds blew down from the north, Fritz left me and went to that area where  all good bird dogs go when they die. He was buried along a fencerow that often produced ringnecks, and on occasion I still think I hear him snuffling the scent of a big rooster 10 feet in front of his nose.

It isn’t, of course, but there is the memory of a bird dog that never knew the meaning of the word quit. He could out-hunt me in his prime, and it’s the biggest reason  I’ve never owned another hunting dog. A new bird dog could never measure up to Fritz, and it would be unfair to expect him to.

So I live with my many fond memories of Fritz. He was the finest bird  dog I’ve owned, and I’ll never see the likes of him again. There’s a place tucked back in the corner of my mind where lost friends and bird dogs go, and whenever the memory machine registers a hit on man or dog, I reach up, dust off a fond memory and trot it for the world to see.

You’ve just read one of my favorites.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors