Well, I’m back.
It was an eventful couple of weeks at Coon Camp Springs… too eventful, in fact, for me to simply summarize the hunts in a single post. Instead, I’ve decided to write up each hunt separately (although there’s a great connection between the first two). Here’s the first part, then… hope you enjoy it!
The huge mule deer stood broadside… not 40 yards from where I crouched with my hunters, glassing the thick brush. “I can’t see his head,” said Tom Henry, the senior of the father-and-son team. “Is it a buck?”
His son, Nolan, whispered back. “It’s huge, that has to be a buck’s body.”
“Does anybody see horns,” I asked?
It seemed like we were standing there for several minutes before I was able to spot antler tines protruding well above the juniper branches that obscured the deer’s head. Once I saw that, I was able to piece together the rest of the rack and head. I had been looking too low… this sucker was big! It was definitely what we were looking for.
“It’s a really good buck,” I hissed. “Kill it!”
“Did he say it was a buck,” queried Tom?
“It’s a buck,” answered his son. “He said, ‘kill it.’”
“What,” said Tom?
“SHOOT IT!”
At the crack of Tom’s .270, the buck hopped and kicked out his back feet, then tore out through the brush. His right leg was flopping. To all appearances, it looked like a textbook shoulder/heart shot. I breathed a sigh of relief, and started out to follow what I expected would be a really short blood trail to a really dead deer.
The last time the elder Henry killed a buck with his son was almost 35 years ago, when Nolan was a youngster of around six. They’d hunted together since then, but it seemed that Tom was destined to go home empty-handed every time he joined Nolan in the field. This year he’d bought two of our PLM tags at Coon Camp Springs as a birthday gift for his son, both as an opportunity to spend that time together, but also as a chance to break that long, unsuccessful streak.
This was the first full day of hunting with these guys, after spending the previous evening checking the zero on their rifles, touring the property, and scaring the coyote population with a few long shots. Since we had a little daylight left, we even sat and glassed for a while before heading back to camp for a big dinner of wild boar sausage with apples and wild rice.
At first light, we were back on that rock. Shortly after we settled in, I spotted some does off in the distance. They were way off the property, but we watched them as they slowly worked their way toward our fenceline. There were about eight or nine deer in the field, but no bucks that we could see (they were over 1000 yards away). Suddenly, Nolan hissed, “deer!” Read the rest of this entry »