Whitetail Season 2001  By: Mark DePugh

 

As I sit here peering out the window, with fresh Maxwell House at hand, I ponder the opening day of Ohio’s Shotgun Deer Season 2001….. Sunday evening was filled with anticipation. A number of hunters from our church gathered in small huddles soon after the dismissal prayer of our evening service. We discussed final strategies for the opening day; We smiled, giggled, shook hands, and said, “Call if you do any good”.

 

An hour later found me headed towards my hunting cabin which is located on the far edge of a pond The “cabin” as it is referred to by my friends and family is nestled among the oak woods on our 70 acre Southern Ohio farm. It’s only about 100 yards from my house, but it offers the atmosphere of the “hunter”. The 10’X 24’ ,six inch D-Log hide-out, hand crafted by the Amish of Sugar Creek, Ohio, is filled with the bare necessities for the hunter. The cabin is equipped with propane heat, TV/VCR, refrigerator, coffee-pot, and 100 Whitetail Hunting Video’s. Yes indeed….. I like to rough it! The walls are filled with wonders of taxidermy including several whitetail buck’s, a pheasant, grouse, raccoon, and black bear. If you can’t get pumped up for the hunt in this cabin, your pumper’s broken!

 

Anyway, I settled in for the night. A bag of chips, a hot dog (or two), a soda, and a video, and I was set. Soon I was off to sleep, with visions of monster bucks running through my head. The alarm sounded at 5:00AM and I immediately jumped to the floor. I flipped on the switch to the coffee-pot and began to focus. It’s time for the hunt! Clothes, dress, scent, lures, wind direction….. the strategy unfolds.

 

Daylight found me on the southern part of the farm, atop the ridge, facing the east. I was overlooking a commonly used deer run with the wind in my face. Everything seemed right. Everything felt right. All I needed was papa buck to arrive on the seen. After an hour or so I spotted two deer approaching on my left. They were actually coming up the ridge. It was extremely foggy and I had some trouble determining whether they were bucks or does. Even though they were only approximately 75 yards away, I just couldn’t make out horns. I pulled up my field binoculars and to my surprise focused in on two young 8-pointers. I opted to pass them up for seed for next years buck herd. I was content to video their activities as they feasted contently on acorns.

 

The remainder of the morning was encompassed with a few does, nine turkey’s, and several squirrel’s. Noon o’clock had me hiking to the 4-wheeler in pursuit of the cabin.

 

Upon arrival, I stoked up a campfire, threw on some hot dogs, and enjoyed a much-needed lunch. Inside the cabin was warm, and the couch just begged for me to come over and take a nap. I yielded myself for about an hour, then packed up the Sportsman 500 and headed up the ridge. My destination was the same stand location as the morning. I settled in under a large white oak, stretched out my legs and began to pour a cup of coffee. The time was 2:45 PM, and my strategy was to beat other hunters on adjacent farms to the woods in hopes that they would send deer running in my direction. I love it when a plan comes together!

 

Three O’clock arrived and so did the deer. They came funneling down the ridge from the farm next door as if they were being poured from a bucket; 4, 6, 8, 9, 11, 15, 17 and then a beautiful 8-point buck. His rack was tall and resembled that of ivory. My heart immediately jumped into my throat. Obviously another hunter had spooked these deer as he entered the woods for the afternoon hunt. Unfortunately for me, the deer were running to quickly for a good shot, so I watched them travel further into the woods of our farm. I remained on the stand for another 45 minutes trying to figure where the deer went. My guess… to the honeysuckle thicket on the other side of the farm. It pays to know the land you hunt.... every “nook and cranny”.

 

I decided to relocate. I hiked back to the 4-wheeler and headed northward across the top of the ridge. When I arrived at the thicket, all was quiet. I parked my ride and began an ever so slow still hunt into the honeysuckle. After moving approximately 60 yards I heard movement and out jumped seven does. Their exit route was one that I knew well, so I focused on that area for the buck. I cautiously scanned the area looking for an ear, a horizontal line, or a piece of antler, when suddenly my eyes were locked rigid. There he was, still bedded down trying to hide in the cover. I could see the white of his right ear and part of an antler. I harder I looked the more I began to make out. The buck was motionless. Obviously, he knew I was there, but he intended to use the cover to his advantage. I was able to make out the image of his body even though the twigs and brush was thick. Ever so slowly, I pulled my Remington 870 slug gun to my shoulder. Just as I began to squeeze the trigger, the buck bounded from the brush like a yo-yo on a string. “Did I hit him? His tail was up… Oh no…. I blew it”! I watched the buck run out of site. I had this sick feeling in my stomach. So close but yet so far. I slowly approached the bed in which the buck had been hiding. I looked for blood or hair and found neither. What now? It’s strategy time again. The buck ran a different direction than the does he was with earlier. I knew where the does had headed, the question is, will he try to join them again?

 

I hiked back to the Polaris, packed up and headed to the top of the ridge, where I believed the does had headed. I hoped that a love sick buck would attempt to reunite with his harem. My body felt drained of energy as the disappointment was trying to consume my thoughts. I just kept saying, “Mark, stay focused”! I parked at the top of the ridge and prepared to get set up. My head was down as I searched for a tree to nestle into, I was trying to hold onto hopes of another opportunity at that beautiful 8-pointer. I found my destination, a small clump of maples overlooking a half ridge horseshoe. I was sneaking quietly through the leaves, my eyes seeking out any twigs that may snap under the weight of my feet. “Holy Toledo, where did he come from”? The buck was standing just 60 yards away. He instantly responded with a snort and began his exit. As I said before... It pays to know the land you hunt. He began his way around the half ridge mound where I was standing. He went completely out of my sight of vision. Instinctively, I took off on a dead run, opposite the direction he ran. My heart raced, as did my mind…run to the right and catch him coming around the horseshoe. I followed the directions and took off in a forty-yard sprint. Guess what here he came, running the same escape route that I had imagined. I pulled the gun up and put the bead on his vitals, but he was just moving to fast. The buck had completely ran past me with no good shot available, then suddenly…. He stopped. “Thank you Lord”! He stood quartering away at about 75 yards, looking back as if, wow that was a close call.... He had no idea that I was there. I pulled the trigger; the buck fluttered and stumbled out of sight. “It’s a hit, I thought. Praise the Lord, It’s a hit”. By now my heart is racing like a freight train. “Give him some time, settle down, and give him some time”.

 

I nervously waited for 20 minutes then headed over the bank in hot pursuit. I cautiously searched the leaves for blood or hair. The trail wasn’t hard to find. After a mere 50 yards of tracking…. There he lay. I was so excited! A beautiful perfectly typical high racked 8-pointer. He wasn’t a monster, but he was beautiful! The buck scored just under 100 inches of antler, but he was gorgeous. You see… It’s not just about size…. It’s about the hunt… And I’ll never forget this one!

 

We should never overlook the beauty of God’s creation. In my opinion the whitetail deer is one of God’s special animals. I’ve hunted whitetails for many years. I’ve spooked em, scared em, jumped em, and missed em. But amazingly enough I still love to hunt them. I respect the animal. They are smart, cunning, witty, and cautious. Maybe that’s why they challenge me so much. I am a hunter! Regardless of the method; bow, shotgun, muzzleloader, rifle, whatever. “I’d hunt whitetails with a slingshot if they had a legal season”. But, we must always keep a proper perspective as a child of God. Family, Jobs, Church, Hunting.... The list of our busyness goes on and on. We must submit ourselves to Christ daily, for He is the only hope of our salvation! We must keep Jesus first in our lives and everything else will fall into place. It’s His plan and promise! God has granted us the privilege to hunt animals such as the whitetail. We should enjoy every opportunity and every minute we spend in the woods, and thank God for His wonderful creation!    

 

Mark DePugh

President FCH