It was 24 degrees this morning when I left home and headed down to our lease.  I bundled up in my new Polartec fleece inner-wear, then topped it off with a fleece sweatshirt, my heaviest insulated overalls, and my big hunting jacket.  Not wanting to bother with my ATV this morning, I drove straight to Doug's house, signed in, then took the Jeep over to the power lines.  I stayed in Arnold's tower until 11:30am, but saw nothing.

By the time I got out of the tower it had warmed up a good deal, so I decided to swap the Jeep for the four wheeler, then go give the predators a try.  I drove over to Arnold's house to make the swap, then spent a few minutes chatting with Arnold.  He suggested that I take his shotgun and go down to the pond and try to pop a merganser or a wood duck.  I thought this was a great idea, so I grabbed the Mossberg and some steel shot shells and headed down to the water.

I parked my ATV a good ways away from the pond, not wanting to scare any waterfowl that might be down there.  Easing my way down the road, I paused often to look through the trees at the water to see if I could make out any ducks.  I saw nothing until I got to the top of the hill that looks down over the pond.  Then I noticed something black in the far corner of the pond.  Examining it with my binoculars, I was sure that it was a merganser.  I saw the right colors and the right bill shape, and I began to shake with excitement as I thought how good he would look mounted on the wall in my office.

I spent several minutes debating how to make a stalk.  He was on the same side of the pond that I was on, and there was no cover between me and the dam.  If I could make it to the dam, I would then be ok, since the tall grass would hide the rest of my stalk.  Seeing no other choice, I got down flat on my stomach and began to belly crawl down the hill, stopping every few feet to make sure the duck hadn't spooked.

As I got closer to the water, I saw movement off to my left, at the headwaters of the pond.  Using my binoculars, I saw that it was five large Canada geese.  I debated switching directions and moving over to take one of them, but then I decided that I would rather have a merganser mount than a goose.  Having made my choice, I moved on.  As I approached the place where the merganser was, I slowly rose and got ready to shoot as soon as the bird lifted off of the water.  He never spooked.  I stepped loudly into the brush at the edge of the water, trying to startle him into flight.  Then I saw that my merganser was nothing but the stump of an old log floating quietly in the water.

Blast, I thought.  An awesome stalk on a real wood duck: a stump.  Shaking my head in laughter, I started back around the pond to where the geese were.  As I got close they came alert, then finally flew.  Rather than take the shot, I merely watched as they took to the sky and flew away.

I spent the next three hours sitting in the canebrakes hoping that some wood ducks might come in, or maybe even a teal, if I was lucky.  Nothing came, and finally I heard Ted's four wheeler drive past the pond on the other side of the woods.  I headed back to my ATV and then on to Arnold's shop where I switched out the shotgun for my rifle.    I drove back up on to the lease and met up with Ted.

We decided to do a couple of predator calls.  We tried 30 minutes of rodent squeals at two different locations, but had no luck with that, so we finally headed to our evening deer stands.  I chose the power lines once again, while Ted went over to the wheat field at Stand #2.  Neither of us saw a thing as our season came to an end.

Today I hunted back out on the power lines in the climbing stand.  It seemed like such a well set-up hunt... the wind was perfect, I entered the woods quietly after having parked the four wheeler a good distance away... but it just didn't work out.  Although I sat in my stand for several hours, nothing came out into the field.

Looks like I'll have one more day in the woods, and then we'll have to wrap the year up.

I thought for a few minutes, and decided that it might be time to clean my rifle.  Generally, I clean it at the end of the season, sight it in, then never touch it again until the end of the next season.  I began to wonder if I cleaned it last year after the deer season, and it occurred to me that I had gotten busy on some things and may not have made time to do it.  Thinking that, I went ahead and gave it a good cleaning, then fired again.

You can pretty much always throw away the first shot with a clean barrel.  Mine was high right, and I discarded it and moved on to the next target.  After letting the barrel cool for ten minutes, I fired at the fresh target and was almost dead on the bull's-eye.  Another ten minute break for the rifle to cool, then a second shot was right next to the first.  The rifle's fine. 

I decided to give Stand #2 a try, the wheat field in the middle of a stand of pines.  I saw nothing, but got in some good reading and just enjoyed the time to relax and think about things.  Doug hunted on the power lines, and he didn't shoot, so I don't believe he saw anything either.  I think I'll try the power lines again myself tomorrow...

Ted hunted up on the power lines, but saw nothing.  After we met up, we did a quick loop around the property.  We saw that the deer had been active in several places, so there's still the possibility that we'll tag a couple more before the season ends.

In the afternoon, I decided to hunt up in the wheat field at Stand #2, while Ted hunted nearby in the cutover at Stand #3.  I climbed high in my tree, then sat quietly to await the coming of the deer.  About 15 minutes before dark, I totally blew it.  I heard a deer walking in the woods behind me, exactly like the spike that I shot earlier this year.  As I turned to get a look at the deer, the vinyl seat of my treestand let out a loud squeeeek, alerting the deer to my presence.  It took off running before I got to see it.  Nothing else came into the field.

Ted saw nothing in #3, but as he walked out of the woods he saw a deer feeding down on the power lines.  He tried to point it out to me as I emerged from the woods, but it was too dark for a shot, so we both were forced to pass the deer up.

As I drove my four wheeler along Walker Road heading to our lease, I decided to check around the box blind, Stand #10, to see if anything was crossing.  I found a set of big tracks in the road about 50 yards past the stand... a fairly decent deer has been crossing here!  Not a monster by any means, but definitely a heavy animal.  Wouldn't you know it, as I was examining the tracks that the deer had made, I somehow managed to roll my ATV tire across every single mark that this deer had made, obliterating them all.  A pity, really; now no one but me will realize that a big deer is working this area.  I don't know how I could have made a blunder like that, but oh well, if I remember, I'll mention it to the other guys when I see them.  Maybe in January.

I went back to the stand and quietly made my way up the tree, but didn't see anything at all today.  With only a couple more weeks to go in the season, I really hope I start seeing some more deer soon!

By the time I got situated, I was really pleased with this setup and was sure that I would see a deer.  At about 9:30 or so, I saw movement in the woods down toward where I hard started making the scent trail.  I raised my rifle, then snorted in disgust as a big black dog appeared and began to sniff at the doe urine.  A spotted white dog came in behind the first one, and they began to follow the trail up toward my stand.  I tried to wave the dogs off, but they couldn't see me in the blind.  I finally managed to scare them off by sticking my hands out the window of the blind and flapping them at the dogs, but I knew my hunt was over for the morning.

Ted had been hunting down in the box blind on Walker Road and reported that he also had seen nothing.

I really like the stand that we call the "pallet blind", but the food plot that I planted just didn't take.  I decided to hunt it anyway, but nothing showed up.  I think next year I'll try to work this field really good with fertilizer and lime and try to get something growing in there. 

Ted hunted back behind me in Stand #13, looking out over our cutover, but he saw nothing.

After I got down from my stand, I scouted around the area a little bit.  I found a small homemade bench under an oak tree that I was unaware of, and not far behind it I saw a really big rub.  Yep, there has been a buck moving around in this area for sure.

For the afternoon hunt, I decided to go back to the ridge, but this time I took Ted's popup blind and walked in.  I set a few scent bombs out in front of my stand hoping to attract a buck, then set the blind up looking down the path.  Although I had what I felt was a great setup, nothing was moving tonight.  Ted, hunting on the lease, also saw nothing.

Having seen nothing most of the morning, I took a short snooze as time wore on.  I woke from it with the sun on my face, warming me nicely.  My watch was broken, but the sun was moving high above the trees, and I figured it was about 9:30.  I was really feeling fine in the stand, and decided that I would stick it out for another couple of hours.

After about a half hour, I noticed movement in the brush about 150 yards away.   Just branches moving in the wind, I thought to myself.  No, wait!  That's antlers!  As I watched, a big deer came into view.  Buck!  Without time for more thought, I raised my rifle and centered the crosshairs.  I saw that I had the scope's magnification selector set to 3, the lowest setting, and was about to change it when the buck looked right at me. 

I squeezed the trigger.

The buck jumped into a sprint, heading down the road, away from me as fast as he could go.  As he disappeared behind a brush pile, I jacked another shell into the chamber and pushed the rifle ahead of the brush, anticipating where the deer would emerge.  He appeared exactly as expected, and, moving with him, I fired again.  He continued his run, through some more brush, and across one of our food plots.  I had a brief second to notice that his tail was down as he was running, a possible sign of a hit.

I started to shake.  Wait 30 minutes on this guy?  No way.  I had to know if I hit him or not.  I lowered my backpack to the ground, climbed down from the stand, got my trail marking tape out and stashed my pack in a brush pile.  I reloaded my rifle, then walked down the road to where the buck first appeared.  I found his tracks immediately.  Big ones.  This was a hefty deer for our area.   Looking carefully around, my spirits sank when I found no blood.  How could I be so stupid?  Why didn't I take the single second to crank the scope up to 9 power for such a long shot?

I followed the tracks down the road to where I took the second shot.  I found a big scuff mark where the deer had turned and crossed into the food plot, but still no blood.  Moving through the brush pile into the wheat field, I continued on the trail.  In the field it took me a couple of minutes to find his tracks, but I finally saw where he had entered the woods.  Still no blood.  

I looked carefully at the tracks on the edge of the field.  What were those dark spots?  I put my finger into the deep tracks, and it came up red.  Blood!  I moved to the wood line, now seeing blood a bit more frequently.  As I approached the thick woods, I heard something moving down in the gully below me.  Stopping in my tracks, I tied a piece of marking tape to the tall grass, then quietly made my way back to the four wheeler.  Time to go get some help, I thought.

As I drove back to Arnold's house, the shakes began to hit me.  By the time I was standing on his front porch, I could barely speak.  "Can you help me," I asked as he answered my knock on the door.  "Of course, " Arnold said.  "Have you shot a deer?"  

"Yeah, I think he's a big one.  I saw antlers, and you should see his tracks."

"Did you find blood," Arnold asked?   I replied that indeed I had.   "We'll get that deer then," he said.

While Arnold changed clothes, I walked back to the shop and took my cold weather gear off.  I knew we would be in for some hard work, and the day was getting warmer.  I changed into a t-shirt and sweat pants, then loaded my gear in the Mule.   "Do you want us to take Lady?" Arnold asked as he walked up the driveway.

I considered.  "No, we better not.  The deer may still be alive, and the last thing we need is for the dog to push him." 

I was somewhat nervous about finding the deer, deathly afraid that he had gotten away, and it was a long ride back to where I had left the marking tape.  Arnold's assertion that we would find him did lighten my spirits a bit, but not enough to stop me from offering a prayer to ask that we retrieve this buck.

We soon found my marking tape, and got back on the trail.  Walking downhill into the gulley, the blood got brighter and more frequent.  As we moved apart, each trying to find where the deer had run, I heard a noise below me.  A flash of brown.  Antlers.  "He's up!" I shouted, then raised my rifle and took a wild shot at him.  No way I could have hit him.  We should have brought a shotgun.

As the deer ran off, we walked down and found the spot where he had been laying.  He was about 30 yards down from the field, and there was a good patch of blood where he had rested.  "Ok," Arnold said.  "Let's give him an hour or so.  We'll go back to the house and eat, then come back."

An hour.  An HOUR.  Man, how can I wait an HOUR.  I'm shaking now, imagine how it will be in an hour.  But I knew he was right, so we loaded up the Mule and drove back to his cabin to get some lunch and watch a little bit of the Outdoor Channel.  While we were waiting, Arnold called Doug to ask him to come help.

At 12:30 Doug and his son Clint showed up on their four wheelers.  Arnold and I piled into the Mule, and we headed back into the woods.  We picked the blood trail up, then began walking, Clint and I spread out in the lead, with Arnold and Doug taking the dregs, staying on the trail.  About 200 yards along the way, Clint hollered at me, "There he is, he may be headed your way."  I ran up the hill, trying to get a glimpse of the deer.  Although I could hear him running, I never saw him at all.

I walked down to where Clint had jumped him, and we found a good bit of blood there on the ground.  The smell of the buck was fierce, he was obviously rutting.  When Arnold and Doug caught up with us, we decided to wait another 15 minutes before pushing on, hoping that this last burst of life from the buck would help him expire quickly.

We sat quietly, talking of this and that, and I was feeling good about the deer.  I was sure that we would get him now.  When the required time had passed, we spread out again, Doug and I taking the lead this time.  "Don't look for blood," they said to me.  "Keep your rifle ready and watch for the deer; we'll stay on the trail."

"Yep," I said, "good plan."   Although it was hard not to try to follow the blood trail, I soon found that I didn't need to.  I was on an obvious deer trail at the bottom of a valley, and with the buck tired and wounded, he could either go straight or go uphill to his left or right.  Straight it had to be.  We pressed onward, and suddenly I saw the buck laying on the ground 30 yards in front of me.  "Doug, I see him!" I shouted.  I had hoped that the deer was dead by now, but as he tried to stand, I put him down for good with another shot.

As the footsteps approached, I got ready to shoot.  I've been after a fox for years, and was hoping that this would be my chance.  The animal emerged right behind me, and to my surprise it wasn't a fox after all.  As it passed under my stand, I snapped the safety off my rifle, let it get about ten yards out, then fired.  The coyote dropped in it's tracks, never even flinching.

This is the second time I've seen a coyote on our lease, though I have heard them often.  These animals are not native to South Carolina, and are a major problem for game birds such as turkeys and quail.  I won't hesitate to shoot every one of them that I see on our lease.  After shooting this one, I left him lay on the ground, choosing to remain in my stand in the hopes that a deer would come by later.  The coyote was the only thing I saw.

For the evening hunt, I chose the tower out on Arnold's power lines.  The power company smoothed the hills on the lines out recently, and the seed that they planted is beginning to emerge, in what I hope will soon be a deer magnet.  Nothing showed up tonight, but as the deer finish eating the acorns and start moving into the food plots, I think we'll start seeing them out here.

At first I was regretting the decision to walk in.  The forecast mentioned rain, and not wanting to get soaked I went ahead and wore my rain pants into the woods.  As hot of an afternoon as it was, I was drenched in sweat by the time I reached the stand and climbed the tree.  At one point I had almost convinced myself to turn back and just go hunt in the tower blind, or somewhere else where the deer couldn't smell me.  In the end, I decided to stick it out.

I got in the tree pretty early; around 2:30, and settled in with a book.  I figured nothing would happen until the sun went behind the trees, so I was prepared for a good long wait. 

As the shadows lengthened across the field, I began to hear movements in the woods behind me, away from the field.  Squirrels, for sure, I thought, returning to my book.  Once the entire field was in shadow, I put the book away, got comfortable, and sat as still as possible.  Almost immediately, I heard something else walking in the woods, something bigger than a squirrel.  It sounded like it was actually kicking things out of its way as it walked.  Ok, that's either a deer or a person. 

The sound was behind me to my right; the worst possible place for a shot.  I twisted as far right as I could, trying to get a glimpse of it.  Nothing.  I shifted all the way back around to the left; much better.  I can get a shot from here.  A flash of brown, and I saw that it was a deer.  I started to raise my rifle when I heard a squeaking sound, lowered it quickly, stopping the noise.  I looked down.  Binoculars.  The rubber coating on them was rubbing against the synthetic stock of my rifle.  My heart was pounding now.  I shoved the binoculars to the side and brought the rifle back up. 

The deer was in the crosshairs for a second, but it wasn't a safe shot.  Wait just another minute; he's headed toward the road.  He stopped behind a tangle of brush, giving me time to get into good shooting position should he come out into the open.  I aimed the rifle at the place I needed to be, and in seconds he was there.  He wasn't going to stop moving, and my shot was clear.  I fired.  After the shot I quickly lowered the rifle so I could see where he went.  He jumped, and I knew he was hit.

The deer turned in a semi-circle, stumbled, then ran.  I only heard his footsteps for a second.  I looked at the little pocket watch that I carry with me.  5:00pm.  I'll give it until 5:15, then get down and look for blood.  5:03pm.  I couldn't wait any longer.  No sounds around me, and I was sure he was hit hard.  I got down, gathered my gear, and walked over to where he had been.  Immediately I found a huge amount of bright red blood.  That deer is dead, I thought.  It was a simple trail to follow, and in moments I found him laying 15 yards from where he was when I shot. 

Having seen nothing by 9:00am or so, I decided to head up onto the main lease, so I drove my ATV up to the power lines, parked, and began a goodly hike down to the pallet blind.  On the way, I saw that the new wheat patch at Stand #3 was looking fantastic, so I decided that later on this week I'll have to hit that stand pretty hard. 

To get to the pallet blind, you have to go up a hill, then wind your way halfway back down the other side.  It sits part way down the hill, looking over a small food plot.  As I approached the top of the hill, I heard a deer moving around in the woods quite close to me.  I tried grunting several times at him, but he never showed. 

I saw nothing from the blind, but did choose to try a little bit of rattling.  When nothing responded, it came time to head back to town, and as I was leaving the blind I think I heard a deer blow, just once, from down near the food plot.  I may not have waited long enough after rattling..

For the morning hunt, I went back to "my" ladder stand... funny how when you hunt a stand often it becomes "yours".  I remember Ted's first year on the lease, when he took four deer from the same stand (and another deer close by).  That stand became known as "Ted's blind".  Though the ladder that I am hunting belongs to Ted, I somehow have gained ownership of it's location simply due to the fact that I hunt there so frequently.  I saw nothing, as expected.  Ted hunted at the top of the power lines in his popup blind, and he also saw nothing.

As I've stated before, we're cooking our lunches in the camp this year rather than going out to eat.   It's saving time, money, and calories.  Plus we get the benefit of eating some of the things that we tell each other we like to cook... Ted's chili, my pork ribs...  Today it was my ribs, which I've been telling Ted about for some time.  The recipe is available on the recipes link from the Wingshooters.net main page.  Go there.  Now.  Read.  Cook.  Eat.  Between us I think we ate about 8 or 10 ribs... and man, were they good.

"We eat good around here!"

Knowing this, I packed light today, opting to leave my rain gear at home and save room in the truck.  No heavy jacket needed... left that behind too.  It was pleasantly warm when Ted and I met up on this first hunt after daylight savings time ended.  I told Ted that I was going to #3, and he decided to hunt in #5, the ladder stand where I have spent many mornings this year.

As the morning progressed, I watched the sky above me go to a dark grey color, and I felt the chill as the temperature dropped.  When the first misty rain began to fall, I looked to the southwest, hoping to see blue skies behind this rain shower... surely this was a fluke and wouldn't last.  The temperature continued to drop, and I began to wonder what I would do when the first snowflake fell. 

The light rain persisted all morning, and I was starting to get a bit wet when it came time to get out of the stand.  "Surely," I said to Ted, "this will pass pretty quickly.  I mean, it can't rain all day.  Can it?" 

It did.  All morning.  All afternoon.  All evening.  The weatherman really missed it today.  As we sat there glumly eating our lunch, I thought about all of my expensive rain gear, and how lucky I was to be able to afford it.  I thought about how nice it must look right now, hanging there in my closet back at home, dry as can be, ready to be taken out and worn.  I thought of how stupid I am not to bring it with me every time we go hunting, regardless of what the weather forecast looks like.

It was so wet this afternoon that as the time to get back in the woods approached I looked at Ted and said, "Hambone, there ain't no way I'm going to drive my ATV out into that mess.  We'll be soaked by the time we get to our stands.  I think I'll drive the Jeep out onto the lease instead.  Want a ride?"   Ted agreed that this was a good idea, so when we headed back out, I dropped him off at Stand #10 on Walker Road, shifted into low lock, and drove out onto the mud flats of the lease's cutover. 

I've owned a few four wheel drive vehicles over the years.  Supertruck, my first, a Toyota 4x4 pickup, was built to take it.  With a lift kit and 33" mud tires, there weren't many places it couldn't go.  It has set the standard for what I expect from my vehicles.  In the mid 90's, it came time to get a new truck, and I opted for a Ford Explorer, or Exploder, as I like to call it.  Man, what a piece of junk.  It got stuck in the sand at Cape Hatteras the first time I took it out.  Later, on another Cape Hatteras trip, the four wheel drive unit broke when I was trying to get out of a sand hole.  The transmission went out so many times that I couldn't wait to get rid of it. 

I'm currently driving a Jeep Grand Cherokee with bald tires, and this thing has yet to let me down.  From the soft sands of the Outer Banks to the gumbo red clay of South Carolina, this truck will go.  I made it to the top of the lease with no problems at all, driving through mud so soft that I could barely walk in it without falling down.  

I drove most of the way to our pallet blind, which looks out over a small, newly planted field out in the middle of our cutover.  I was able to stay dry in the blind, but unfortunately, saw no deer.  Ted also saw nothing down in his blind.

One of the things that has been nice this year is that we're bringing lunch with us rather than going into town to eat.  Today I brought along a little charcoal grill and some hamburger meat, while Ted brought the fixin's.  The burgers that we grilled had to be some of the best that I have ever eaten, and I look forward to doing this again.

In the afternoon, I chose Stand #2, that beautiful wheat field that we refer to as the "little loading dock".  I saw nothing, but later found that Doug was hunting just past me, and that could have accounted for the deer staying away from my field, since last time they came from the area that he was hunting in today.  Just before dark, I heard Ted shoot, just over from me on the power lines.  He took his second doe of the year, and his first from his new popup blind.

The two fields that we planted back in August had done nothing, so I decided to go plow them up and replant them.  I borrowed Arnold's Massey tractor and harrow and went to work.  I spent a good bit of time in each field, really working hard to get them turned over and scraped clean of logging debris.  I was quite pleased with the end result.  I also decided to plant a little strip along the road header up where Stand #3 is.  The deer are moving through there quite frequently, and I thought that a little bit of wheat and oats might make them pause for a critical moment or two.

I decided that Stand #3 looked so good that I wanted to hunt it.  Probably a mistake, since I had spent a good bit of time working there just a few hours earlier, but the view is fantastic, and I couldn't resist.  I saw nothing, but that won't stop me from going back there the next chance I get.

After the hunt, we ran a few errands in town, mostly looking for me some new rain gear.  When we returned to Arnold's, there was a note from Michelle, Ted's wife, telling him that she was sick and needed him to come home. 

For my afternoon hunt, I decided to give Stand #2 a try, where our food plot is starting to look beautiful.  As darkness approached, I noticed movement at the far end of the field, so I checked it out in my binoculars.  It was a deer, but from the looks of it it wasn't a big one.  Not being able to accurately judge the deer in the dim light, I decided to pass.

When I arrived back down at Arnold's house, he was waiting at the shop with bad news.  His Cocker Spaniel, Misty, had been having serious health problems these last few weeks, and it was time to put her to sleep.  Misty was a great dog.  In the early days, Arnold, his brother Gerald (who is now my father-in-law), myself, and another guy named Frank used to hunt on Arnold's property.  Arnold used to bring Misty, then a puppy, along, and she used to love spending the night with us all in the small trailer that was on the property.

She would lay down on the chest of one of us, sleep awhile, then walk over and lay on someone else.  As long as she had one of us to sleep beside, she was happy.  And I mind well the day that I shot my first deer.  The story is told elsewhere on this website of how after searching in vain for the deer for some time, I went back to the camp and got Arnold, and he brought Misty along to help find the blood trail.  Misty found the deer quite quickly, and even gave a little bark to let us know where it was.  And then there was the way that if Arnold was napping on the couch, Misty would lay quietly on his chest, guarding him.  If you took a step in his direction, she would growl at you to let you know to keep your distance.  Man, that was a great dog, and she will be missed by many of us.

There was no sign of him where we had talked about meeting, so I headed on down the power lines toward his box.  When I was a couple of hundred yards away from his stand, I parked my ATV and did a little bit of still hunting, just walking around in the rain hoping to jump something.  There were no deer to be found.  Ted finally noticed me, waved, and headed over my way.

When we met up, he told me that he had seen a hunter climb a power pole on the adjacent lease, and the hunter was looking right down into our best wheat field.  We drove down in our four wheelers and made a big to-do about looking at him through our binoculars, letting him know that we were there.  He waved and pointed off to the side, acting like he wasn't watching our field at all.   At least now he knows we're on to him.

The rain had let up by afternoon, so I decided to get back in the ladder on the secondary lease road where I had seen the three bucks a couple of weeks ago.  Ted was hunting in his old standby, #3, just up the road from me.  Neither of us saw a thing.

While I was waiting for Ted to come out of his box blind up on the main lease, I decided to walk out into Walker Road and see if anything was happening back behind me.  Almost as soon as I stepped out, I saw a doe cross the road a little over a hundred yards away.  Knowing that a fence would prevent her from going anywhere, I got down into shooting position and waited for her to cross back.  She soon reappeared, heading away from me up the road.  "Hey!" I yelled, but she didn't flinch.  I finally made a "Waahhhhh" sound to imitate a loud grunt, and she stopped dead in her tracks, turned, and presented me with a perfect broadside shot opportunity.  As I switched off my safety and squeezed the trigger she saw me, turned again, and jumped into the woods. 

I couldn't tell if I had hit her or not, so I ran over to my ATV, loaded up, and drove up to where she had been standing.  I found her tracks, but no sign of a hit.  I was still looking when Ted drove up, unaware that I had taken a shot.  As I told him about it, I glanced down and said "What's that?"   It was my bullet, mushroomed and flattened, laying in a groove in the road.  We inspected it carefully, found a bit of meat on it, and decided that it was a hit.  Looking further, we found a couple of small bone fragments.  This immediately put a knot in my stomach.  Bone fragments generally mean a leg hit. 

We searched the woods for over an hour, finding only one small drop of blood 30 yards from where we found the bullet.  There was no sign of the deer.  This is always the hardest part of hunting, and you never get used to it.  You have to learn from it and do better next time.

For the afternoon, I hunted in Ted's new popup tent blind, overlooking a new growth of wheat and beans.  Ted was hunting back in his box blind, just 50 yards up the road from me.  As darkness approached, Ted radioed me to say that there might be a small button buck headed my way.  I watched, knowing I would not shoot such a small deer.  It never appeared, and as night began I heard a deer to my right blow hard, winding me. 

Shortly after that, I looked to my left and saw another doe standing in the thicket not 20 yards away.  I decided that she was a shooter, so I got in position for the shot.  Unfortunately, she moved behind some trees, and though I was able to see her through the brush for several more minutes, she never presented me a good, safe shot.  As she moved out of view, I glanced into the thicket again and saw a spike buck standing where the doe had been.  I put the crosshairs on him several times, but knew that I would not shoot such a young buck.

While watching him, I kept seeing a flicker of movement off to the right; something raising up and down with some regularity.  I tried to find the movement in my binoculars several times, but at first I failed to zero in on it.  What in the world is that,  I thought.  It looked like a turkey's head bobbing up and down, but I couldn't be sure.  Finally I managed to get a glimpse of it through my binoculars, and saw that it was the antler on another buck.  It didn't have much mass, and it could have either been another spike or a small forkhorn; I couldn't be sure.  Whatever it was, it also wasn't a shooter.  As I watched, something startled the first spike, and he jumped back towards the woods about 10 feet.  Standing there for 30 seconds or so, he looked around carefully, trying to determine what it was that had spooked him.  He finally bolted back into the woods, taking the other buck with him.   As they ran, I got a brief glimpse of a third buck that had been there, this one possibly a decent deer.  I saw the well-developed tips of his antlers, but didn't have time enough to determine his full size. 

Seeing seven deer from the stand this morning put me into a really good frame of mind about the state of deer on our lease.  I really feel like we're loaded with them, and having seen four bucks now with the season only a few weeks old makes me believe that our doe-to-buck ratio has greatly improved.  I'm optimistic about the possibility of one of us taking a good buck this year.

Ted hunted down at Stand #7, the ladder overlooking the bottom field, and though he saw no deer, he did see several turkeys.  I also feel really good about our turkey population, and am looking forward to the season next April.

Over the lunch break, we ate some venison chili that Ted had prepared for us, then went over to Elgin to get some chain to try to tighten up the stand that I had been hunting in.  We got that fixed, then headed back to Arnold's for a nap.

In the evening, I hunted in Stand #2, a wheat field up at the top of our lease, while Ted took his popup blind over to Stand #4, another wheat field in the middle of the power lines. 

Sometimes you do everything right and it still doesn't come together.  I parked my four wheeler a good ways away from my stand, shutting off the engine and coasting as far as I could to keep things as quiet as possible.  I was as silent as ever on my approach to the stand, and also climbed the tree without even scaring off the doves that were feeding in the field.  The wind was perfect, right in my face, and the new crop of wheat and beans was looking beautiful.  The doves would serve as an early warning for me; I knew they would fly the moment a deer appeared.  I sat quietly, watching for the sign of the doves. 

When they finally did fly, my heart started pounding, and I got in position for a quick shot if a deer came into the field.  I sat there, waiting.  Nothing happened.  I waited more, and still nothing happened.  There is one corner of the field that is not visible from the stand, and if a deer was in the field already, it was probably right where I couldn't see it.  As I watched, I heard a deer blow a ways off behind me, back where I had parked.  I bet he saw my ATV and took off running.  I waited more, but still saw nothing.

When it was finally too dark to see, I started to come down, and another deer blew from off to my left.  He had probably been standing there on the edge of the woods the whole time, never quite daring to emerge.

Meeting up with Ted, he told me that he had seen two does down in his field, and had heard a buck sniffing off in the thicket.  Although there were no deer taken today, seeing 9 deer between us is not bad, so we'll count this day up as a victory.

I entered the woods at about 4:30pm, choosing to hunt in our new ladder stand overlooking some clover plots (which haven't started to come up yet).   I got into the stand and got settled, then started looking around, admiring the view.  To my surprise, I noticed a doe standing in the road about 50 yards below me.  I got my binoculars out and saw that there was another doe standing with her.  As I watched, they ran off together.  It was surprising to see two deer so early in the afternoon, and unfortunately, they were the only two that I saw.

Leaving the woods at dark, I use my new Surefire flashlight to make my back to the four wheeler.  Surprisingly, the little light is much brighter than even my big Maglight.  With it, I easily find my way back and strap my equipment to the rack on the ATV.  The last glow of the sunset peaks over the top of the power line right of way as I ease my bike into gear.  Wanting to get back home to my wife, I decide to cut through Arnold's back gate rather than follow the trail back down the main road.  This saves me a mile and a half of travel, and as I approach his shop I see his dog Lady waiting to greet me.  She runs around to the back of my four wheeler, hoping that there is a deer there that she can smell.  "What kind of hunter are you?" she laughs, as she sees that the rack is empty.  "Just wait till next time," I respond, smiling as I scratch her head. 

When I got to Arnold's house, he was smiling broadly, so I knew something was up.  I soon found out, as he told me about the hunt he had had the day before on his own lease.  While hunting a food plot, he had seen seven bucks at one time, four of which were eight pointers.  He took the biggest of the lot, and is shown below holding his antlers.

I stopped by Doug's house on the way into the woods to talk about getting something planted in our big fields so that we would be ready for rifle season.  We made tentative plans to do some planting on Tuesday of next week, after my scheduled morning bowhunt.

After that, I headed up into the lease, wondering where in the world to hunt.  I checked one of the small fields that we had planted a few weeks ago, and nothing was coming up yet.  Seeing lots of tracks in the field, I decided to hole up in some of the large growth hedge that was around the edges of the field.  I made myself a little blind where I would have a decent shot at anything in the fields, then sat back and began my long wait.  To my left, two hundred or more yards away, I had a clear view of a large ridge, and I just knew that sooner or later I would see deer on it.  I was right; about a half hour before dark I got a quick look at two fawns as they sprinted across the opening.  Nothing came into my field.

On the way out, while making the 2 mile four-wheeler ride back to camp, I jumped another deer out on the dirt Walker Road.  A yearling, she jumped in and out of my way several times before crashing away into the underbrush. 

I sat in silence, waiting, watching for a deer to appear.  None did.  At one point I heard one blow at me as he came from downwind, so all hopes of seeing that one were lost.  I heard another deer blowing about 300 yards away a little bit later.  Aside from that, the only excitement I had this morning was when a bobcat briefly appeared about 40 yards from my stand. 

In the afternoon, I hunted on Arnold's ridge, where I shot my first deer so many years ago.  I always get at least one bow hunt in this stand, and I usually see a deer from it, but this year... nothing.  Ted also saw nothing all day, nor did Doug. 

A slow start to the season.

The only thing I've had time to do to get ready is to spend about an hour each day for the last week practicing with my bow.  I can say that I'm pleased on that front... I'm hitting the target right where I want to out to 30 yards. 

At about 10:30pm tonight I finally sat down and went through my backpack, removing bullets, rut scents, and the like.  I added in all of my bowhunting gear and changed the batteries in three of my four flashlights with the sound of Eddie Reasoner singing the Buckmasters theme in the background. 

There's an interesting story behind that Eddie Reasoner song.  I've always loved the theme to the Buckmasters TV show.  It sums up the essence of deer hunting, and for many years I wanted to get a copy of it on CD.  One day I did a search on the internet for any information about that song, and I found a brief reference to the songwriter on an obscure message forum.  In fact, the songwriter himself was the one who had posted on this forum.  I got his email address from there and sent him a note to see if the song was available on CD. 

To my surprise, he replied and said that it actually was available, along with several of his other outdoor TV show theme songs.  He gave me a phone number to call to order it.  A few days later I called the number, asked the man who answered if this was where I could order the Eddie Reasoner CD, and to my even further surprise he said "Yes, this is Eddie."  I told him how much I enjoyed that song, ordered my CD, and have since played it every year just prior to the opening day.

Ted had recently free-floated the barrel of his 7-mag, so we had to basically start from scratch on that one.  It took us a while, but we got it set up the way he wanted it.  We also worked on his muzzleloader until that was grouping very nicely.  We've switched from 180-grain sabot bullets to 245 grain powerbelts.  These seem to be much more accurate with 100 grains of powder than the old bullets, so I think we'll be really pleased with them.

I think next summer we'll take one of our deer plots and plant it for dove sometime in late summer, then we'll hunt it hard on the dove season opener.  After that we can plow it under and replant it for deer.

The kid, a teenager of about fourteen, asked Ted for his autograph on a paper guitar that he was carrying.  Nugent said "Sure.  You play the guitar?  You're going to stay away from drugs and alcohol, right?  You don't use them now do you?"

The teenager looked away as he replied, "No, I don't use them."

"Look me in the eye and tell me that, " Ted said.  "If you're on any of that crap, I won't sign this stuff." 

The kid managed to do it, and Nugent signed his paper, but shook his head as if he knew a different story as the kid walked away. 

Micki and I spent a minute or two with Ted as he signed our books for us.  We shook his hand, and he told Micki how pretty she was.  We thanked him for the stance he takes, which I'll discuss in a minute, and we walked away.

I've struggled a little bit over where I stand in my opinion of Ted Nugent.  His message is straightforward.  He's pro-gun, pro-hunting, and is more active in conservation than anyone you'll ever meet.  He plants more trees in a year than most tree huggers do in a lifetime.  He's on the board of directors of the NRA, speaks regularly at high school D.A.R.E programs, is a special deputy sheriff in Michigan, runs an archery camp for children, and is extremely vocal to politicians about the right to keep and bear arms.  He is anti-drug and anti-alcohol.  He is a man who stands up for what is right and all that is good.

He's so far right that he makes Rush look liberal.  Of course, being pretty far right myself, I have to admire this.  Where then, is my problem?  It's pretty simple, and I'm quickly getting past it.  It's in his language.  I feel like he uses way too much cussing in his speech... but if that's his biggest problem, then I think I can get past it. 

I admire him for the fact that he will say what he believes, and will not give a feel good, no purpose apology for the things he says.  I can't tell you how much I hate how politicians call for each other to step down when they offend someone. What's the big deal about being offended?  Nugent's language offends me sometimes, but I'm not out there calling for him to step down from his NRA directorship. 

America, get your feelings off of your shoulders.  Quit crying every time someone says something you don't like.  Quit whining about being offended.  Oh, did I offend you with these remarks?  Well, get over it. 

Where do I stand on Ted Nugent?  I love the man.  America needs Ted Nugent.