Well it's been a while since the first week of December '05, we've even had a few days over 70 in Georgia. It's given me some time to study on my pictures of our Kansas hunt, and the buck I was able to harvest. I had promised to recount the story, so here goes.......

We arrived in Salina Kansas on Tuesday afternoon adn caught a shuttle up to the ranch, where 2 of our party of 4 had arrived early that morning. We got to camp and planned where we would hunt that morning. There was 6 to 8 inches of snow scattered about, and icy patches here and there. After some fitful sleep, we departed at 5:00 am and dropped each other off at our respective hunting locations.

I drew a spot on the edge of a milo field with a minimal amount of woods ringing the edge of the field. It was damn chilly that morning, the field was frozen solid. I took up a position on the center of one side of the field and tried to stay warm until daylight brought a littl warmup. About 20 minutes after daybreak I saw some movement in the edge of the woods about 400 yards away, I scanned the area and saw 5 does and a mystery guest ghosting about back behind them. 30 minutes later the ghost stepped into a patch of light, and he was a nice buck, about a 135 class 8 point, but not a shooter on the first morning for sure. It warmed up to a balmy 25 degrees and I went on a stalk through the ring of woods around the field--nothing there.

The next several hunts I saw little to no deer. Not a shooter was seen at all by anyone in our group. Thursday afternoon, we dropped our first two hunters off on one of the tracts where we all could hunt the same tract, two at one end and two at the other corners of the tract. As Wade and I were settling in to our spots, we heard a lot of cross talk on our radio's, but couldn't get any clear info, just before we went our seperate ways, we speculated that the two other guys in our party, Matt and Mark, might have gotten a shot. As we got to our locations to wait out the hunt, we heard the rancher who dropped us all off that evening, calling on the radio to say to Mark that 'Matt had gotten one too!' Wade and I communicated on our radios, and were anxious to finish the hunt and see what our partners had scored on. As the night settled in I walked out through a different route, and found a smoking hot scrape line! Wade and I checked in and hooked up with the Rancher, Matt and Mark, with a truck bed with two bucks in it!

As Matt had crested a ridge getting to a box stand he was to hunt that evening, he spotted 8 or 9 deer, 2 bucks amongst them. Matt crawled underneath his box stand, and steadied his rifle on one of the legs of the stand, and squeezed one off at a nice 8 pointer, about 125 yards away. As soon as his rifle cracked, the buck fell backwards down the hill and the rest of the deer broke into a run. At that time he saw a whopper come up from the bottom of the swale following the other deer--he kicked himself for not waiting when he saw the first 8-pointer, but hoped these deer would run toward Mark, which they did. Mark had just settled into a makeshift stand, which was really exposed on the edge of a ridge, and pretty rickety.... he had just pulled up his rifle, and started to get his binoculars up to look around when he saw this group of deer run out along the ridge about 300 yards out. Mark put his glasses down, just as this group stopped, the 'whopper' Matt had seen came up behind them. Mark later said to me 'D, I know what you're talking about now, if one's really a shooter, you know it right away'. Mark then realized he hadn't chambered a round in his rifle. He fumbled a bit with his heavily gloved hands, and got a shell into the chamber. By this time the deer had quartered across his position and were about 100 yards out, so he freehanded a shot at the big buck and knocked it down, it got back up, and he hit it again, plus 2 more for good measure! He said, 'I wasn't going to let him get away'.

Matt's deer was a decent 8, with several broken tines, it still scored 124, with the missing points. Marks buck was a really impressive 10, some funky tines and great mass, 6 1/2 inch bases! Due to demanding work schedules, Matt and Mark packed up and departed the next morning, Wade and I had hunted the morning, and we saw them on the mid-day break to say, see you later, and grab some lunch. We hunted again that evening at the area where I had located the scrape line, and saw nothing. I had seen a shooter that morning, but when he left our tract someone winged a shot at him from the road, and we decided that after that evening to hunt somewhere else on Friday morning.

Well Friday morning it got colder and we saw no deer all day hunting in 2 different locations on a tract we had huntied earlier. We decided that on Saturday we would hunt a tract we hadn't visited on this trip, the rancher had some other guys hunting it earlier in the week, but they had left on Thursday, so we figured it was worth a try. This particular tract was bordered by a large creek/river, and although it has very little wooded area, we know where the deer will be traveling, and we set up in locations we had hunted in years previous. That morning we saw several does, and Wade jumped a shooter going in, it just crossed the property line with a jet up his ass after Wade had jumped him, so no shot. That evening Wade saw nothing, and I saw 4 does and a 130 class 8, which just wasn't a shooter for me. Saturday we saw a couple of small bucks each, and several does, but no shooters, but at least some deer.

That night we decided to go back to this tract for our last hunt of the trip, Sunday morning. Wade was going to a familiar spot, on a ridge above the bordering river, and I had decided to hunt on foot, ghosting though the bottom near the upper end of the property. As I slipped along in the darkness, I was really bundled up, and I noticed how cold I was, even while walking--albeit at a slow quiet pace-- As I crested the ridge I had to descend to get to the wooded area I would hunt, I heard something in the distance, and noticed a buck scooting along the far ridge line, not a real big one, but it showed there were deer in the area, even if he had figured out I was coming. I settled in between two oak trees growing close together and set my pack on the ground, and started taking note of the surroundings in the streaky moonlight. I had about 20 minutes until daylight, and was enjoying the beauty and peace, if not the cold, and thanking the big guy upstairs for my experience with friends and nature while on this hunting trip. I honestly thought about what fun the trip had been and if neither I nor Wade harvested a buck, I would still do it again for sure!

I heard some turkeys calling their fly down cackles, and busting through the trees about 15 minutes after daybreak, and saw a few squirrels scampering about. I reached into my pack to get a drink, and my 2 bottles of water were frozen solid--fortunately, I had taken a sip out of both bottles before we had left camp, and therefore the bottles didn't crack at least! I stuck one in my coat, hoping my body heat would melt a bit for a little sip after a while. I surveyed the area really well, and decided to slip over about 75 yards to a little knoll, in between several small cottonwoods. I eased over as quitely as possible, always looking at the probable deer paths of approach. I settled in and felt something under my nose poking me, I pulled my glomitt back and discovered a nice bit of ice in my moustache. After about an hour, I looked at my watch again, and Wade and I had agreed to make radio contact at 9:00 am to confirm our plans, we had decided we needed to come out of the woods at 10:00 am in order to make our flight back to Atlanta.

I called Wade, and like me had seen no deer after getting set up, he had seen a few does on his way in. We confirmed we would head out at 10:00, I would meet him at the top of the ridge he was on, he would go for the truck since I was farther out. After putting my radio back in my pack, I took the small sip of water from the bottle that I had stuck in my coat, it had melted down a few sips for me. I stuck the bottle back in my coat, and raised my binoculars up to scan around......It was one of those uncanny things, but as soon as I brought my bino's up to view through, I was looking directly at some movement about 300 yards out. In an instant I got a good view of the deer, it was a great buck, tall 10 pointer, and a shooter for sure!

I took a moment to calm myself, and checked out my setup, knowing I would probably have to move slightly to take a shot. I was proud that I remained somewhat calm. I folded back my glomitts on both hands, and the game was on. He slipped in and out of view through the thick bottom, and suddenly froze his positon at about 150 yards--no shot--just too thick, he was staring right at my position, but the wind was in my favor, and I was really well camoflaged, I couldn't imagine what he could see. Then it dawned on me--maybe it was the steam from my breathing! He stared at me for what seemed like for 25 minutes, although it was probably only about 2. At that point he twisted back and licked his haunches, and I could tell that he was at ease. At this point he started to slip along the bottom again, headed to a couple of areas where I would have a clear shot. It was then I noticed how damn cold my hands were, maybe I shouldn't have taken off the glomitts from my fingers so soon. It seemed like forever, but I carefully repositioned myself, with a prop against one of the cottonwoods I was nestled in, to face the direction I would need to take a shot. He stopped and ate a nibble here and there, checked on a scrape, and then came clear of the thick stuff, I was tracking him perfectly and remember saying to my self as he moved on a slow walk, right there,right there--as I settled the crosshairs in behind his shoulder, then WHAM, the 270 rocked and I could see him take the impact! He was about 130 yards out, and he ran about 15 yards, I had already cycled the bolt and had another cartridge in, almost without realizing it, and was getting a sight picture when he went down. The 140 gr Accubond got one rib going in, and a .50 cent piece-size hole going out.

There was an incredible, if not necessary, amount of blood along the trail as I approached the big boy, and I was filled with excitement and elation! I took a minute to say thanks, and then admired this beautiful buck! I had almost forgotten, and called Wade on the radio to tell him I had gotten an excellent buck, he said, 'Yeah, I didn't think you'd be shooting a coyote with just 25 minutes left on the hunt'. With that I looked at my watch and it was 9:48, I had shot at right about 9:35. Wade got the rancher to bring the truck to our extraction point, and we all three dragged the boy 275-285 lbs., out of the woods. We celebrated as I field dressed the deer with a memorial knife Gene Ingram had made for us for our trip.

It was a great trip highlighted by a great deer in the final moments, and a testament to hanging in there to the bitter end as well. I really enjoyed spending those last several days hunting hard with Wade, and our friendship grew even stronger spending that time, just the two of us. It was in fact Wade's words that had convinced me to hunt on the ground that last morning, he helped me with the confidence in my abilities to ghost around in the bottom.

I hope this wasn't to wordy, here are a couple of pics of marks deer and mine.

Marks Buck:




That's Wade on the left, our Rancher in the middle, and me on the right:



One more of me and 'him' in the woods:

Where is the rest of the story it was just starting to get interesting. Is this some sort of a cliff hanger?

Swede, sorry, my computer and AR have been fritzing this morning. I think it's all up now.

Later--Don

Great buck and great story,I could picture the hunt as it unfolded,thanks.Drop-Shot

LOVE the double eye-guard split G1 or what ever you call it. All nice deer Thanks for sharing