Dan (22fowl) and I have been deer hunting together on the lease we are on since the bow season started in mid September. Since this lease produces some very nice bucks, we spent the bow season passing up bucks in hopes of having a crack at one of the mature bucks that occupy the land.
As it turned out the early bow season passed without either of us having a good opportunity at any of the big boys. Dan passed at least three other bucks at close range and I passed four different 10 pointers with bow in a week and two more during the gun season. I also had a couple of encounters with mature bucks, but distance and brush foiled any shot opportunity.
On Saturday, November 26, the late muzzleloader season opened. Dan and I agreed it was time for a meat hunt. While we would still pass on fawns and yearlings, any other deer would be fair game for our flintlocks!
We arrived on Friday the 25th and after settling into the old farm house we decided it was time to get some shooting in to be sure we were still on target. I was shooting my Larry Williams made Virginia in .54 caliber. The 44” swamped Green Mountain barrel with a 1-70 twist likes 105 gr of KiK 2F, my own cast .530 round balls, and an ox yoke pillow tick patch lubed with Track’s mink oil. Dan was shooting his TC Renegade flintlock with a .58 caliber green mountain 32” barrel. His gun eats 90 grains of 2F Goex followed by an 1/8” over powder card, then a .570 round ball wrapped in .025 (crushed) cotton duck patch lubed with Hoppes.
Saturday morning found me in an old wooden stand on the edge of a steep hillside bordering a thicket used as a bedding area. The below picture is from the first gun season when I was using my Rocky Mountain Hawken.
About an hour into daylight a doe started snorting over 100 yards away down the ravine. The wind was blowing from me to her, but when I checked her out with my binoculars, she was looking down the hill, so either I was not the object of her snorting or she was confused as to what direction the scent was coming from. Then a herd of deer started moving up the hill with her. I recognized this group from other close encounters with them. It consisted of two very large old does, a couple of other mature does not quite as large, and a number of fawns. The old doe kept snorting the whole way up the hlll, then she and most of the herd cut into the thicket well above me. But one of the other does and a fawn headed toward me from the direction the picture shows. At 40 yards or so, and still obscured by too much cover, she looked right at me. While she didn’t have me figured out, she cut up into the lower edge of the thicket, but continued on a trail straight across in front of me. I would not be able to get a shot at her on the left side of the tree in front of me, so I had to wait until she passed behind the tree and then carefully negotiate that 44” barrel up and around the trunk to get it on the right side for a shot. I no more than accomplished that when she appeared on the other side and for some reason decided to angle down the hill instead of joining her herd up in the thicket. I was ready with the rifle shouldered and the front sight on her following her movements and waiting for an opening. At around 35 yards she stopped quartering hard toward me and looked right at me. I settled the sight on the juncture of her right front shoulder and neck to drive a ball down into her chest. The trigger broke and through the cloud of smoke I saw her buckle then head down hill in the direction she was already on, her right front leg useless. I knew my shot was true. After a 30 yard downhill flight I was relieved to see her break hard left to side hill and then she disappeared around a bend. In a few seconds I heard a crash and knew it was over.
I sat in the stand a for a few moments to gather my thoughts, then quietly climbed down. I took my time reloading, then went to the spot where I shot her to look for blood and/or hair. There was none. Following her flight downhill was easy from the disturbed leaves and skidding hoof marks and shortly after the spot where she turned hard left I found the first blood.
Just around the bend in the hill, I spied her lying up against a deadfall and knew she was gone. I always take a moment to quietly thank God for the opportunity to take one of His creatures and the animal for it’s sacrifice. A few moments admiring the animal and reflecting on the hunt follow. One has to admire these animals for all they are and what they mean to us. I also thought about the added pleasure of doing it the hard way. I admired my beautiful flintlock which would not have looked out of place in the latter 1700’s. And while not perfectly historically correct, I was dressed in “period” clothing including moose hide mocs, wool fall-front trousers my wife made, a wool shirt from Jas Townsend, a wool Voyagers cap my wife hand knit, and my “custom” orange Capote from Northwest Traders.
I spent the remainder of the day starting processing chores which I finished on Sunday. My family and I will have many fine meals from this 130# dressed doe.
Of course Dan continued to hunt and had a few sightings through Sunday with no shot opportunities. I had to go to work Monday morning, but Dan had the day off. At 5:30AM I texted him “Good Luck” and he informed me he was heading for the “big ridge” which is a prime buck bedding area. A while after daybreak, he texted me that he had busted out a big doe, but was in a stand way at the end of the ridge. Not a few minutes more and I got a text that he had just shot a buck!
This is Dan’s first year on the lease, and in the dark he had not made it all the way out the ridge to the last stand near the end of the ridge. After daylight, he found the stand and climbed in. Shortly after texting me, he caught some movement to his right and a nice buck was following the edge of hill about 60 yards away. Dan was able to get to his feet and get turned to take a shot without the buck seeing him. As the buck passed, Dan made a perfect quartering shot into the chest. The buck made a mad dash over the hill but only made it 75 yards before crashing into a deadfall. While there was little blood sign, the woods on that side of the ridge are very open and Dan could see his prize from some distance.
Fortunately for Dan, it was a downhill drag to one of our fields in the valley below and he could drive his pickup to the deer”¦although loading a heavy buck (187 pounds dressed) was not an easy chore alone. As soon as my morning work was over, I drove to the lease to help Dan and arrived just as he had finished loading the buck. My timing was perfect!!! :grin:
Dan was deservedly happy with his great late season buck, and on the last day he was going to be able to hunt too. :hatsoff:
Look at the backstraps off that buck! :shocked2:
Dan’s .570 ball lodged just under the skin on the offside and was split in two. The below picture shows the split ball with an unshot ball for comparison.
It was a great deer season. Let the small game hunts begin!
As it turned out the early bow season passed without either of us having a good opportunity at any of the big boys. Dan passed at least three other bucks at close range and I passed four different 10 pointers with bow in a week and two more during the gun season. I also had a couple of encounters with mature bucks, but distance and brush foiled any shot opportunity.
On Saturday, November 26, the late muzzleloader season opened. Dan and I agreed it was time for a meat hunt. While we would still pass on fawns and yearlings, any other deer would be fair game for our flintlocks!
We arrived on Friday the 25th and after settling into the old farm house we decided it was time to get some shooting in to be sure we were still on target. I was shooting my Larry Williams made Virginia in .54 caliber. The 44” swamped Green Mountain barrel with a 1-70 twist likes 105 gr of KiK 2F, my own cast .530 round balls, and an ox yoke pillow tick patch lubed with Track’s mink oil. Dan was shooting his TC Renegade flintlock with a .58 caliber green mountain 32” barrel. His gun eats 90 grains of 2F Goex followed by an 1/8” over powder card, then a .570 round ball wrapped in .025 (crushed) cotton duck patch lubed with Hoppes.
Saturday morning found me in an old wooden stand on the edge of a steep hillside bordering a thicket used as a bedding area. The below picture is from the first gun season when I was using my Rocky Mountain Hawken.
About an hour into daylight a doe started snorting over 100 yards away down the ravine. The wind was blowing from me to her, but when I checked her out with my binoculars, she was looking down the hill, so either I was not the object of her snorting or she was confused as to what direction the scent was coming from. Then a herd of deer started moving up the hill with her. I recognized this group from other close encounters with them. It consisted of two very large old does, a couple of other mature does not quite as large, and a number of fawns. The old doe kept snorting the whole way up the hlll, then she and most of the herd cut into the thicket well above me. But one of the other does and a fawn headed toward me from the direction the picture shows. At 40 yards or so, and still obscured by too much cover, she looked right at me. While she didn’t have me figured out, she cut up into the lower edge of the thicket, but continued on a trail straight across in front of me. I would not be able to get a shot at her on the left side of the tree in front of me, so I had to wait until she passed behind the tree and then carefully negotiate that 44” barrel up and around the trunk to get it on the right side for a shot. I no more than accomplished that when she appeared on the other side and for some reason decided to angle down the hill instead of joining her herd up in the thicket. I was ready with the rifle shouldered and the front sight on her following her movements and waiting for an opening. At around 35 yards she stopped quartering hard toward me and looked right at me. I settled the sight on the juncture of her right front shoulder and neck to drive a ball down into her chest. The trigger broke and through the cloud of smoke I saw her buckle then head down hill in the direction she was already on, her right front leg useless. I knew my shot was true. After a 30 yard downhill flight I was relieved to see her break hard left to side hill and then she disappeared around a bend. In a few seconds I heard a crash and knew it was over.
I sat in the stand a for a few moments to gather my thoughts, then quietly climbed down. I took my time reloading, then went to the spot where I shot her to look for blood and/or hair. There was none. Following her flight downhill was easy from the disturbed leaves and skidding hoof marks and shortly after the spot where she turned hard left I found the first blood.
Just around the bend in the hill, I spied her lying up against a deadfall and knew she was gone. I always take a moment to quietly thank God for the opportunity to take one of His creatures and the animal for it’s sacrifice. A few moments admiring the animal and reflecting on the hunt follow. One has to admire these animals for all they are and what they mean to us. I also thought about the added pleasure of doing it the hard way. I admired my beautiful flintlock which would not have looked out of place in the latter 1700’s. And while not perfectly historically correct, I was dressed in “period” clothing including moose hide mocs, wool fall-front trousers my wife made, a wool shirt from Jas Townsend, a wool Voyagers cap my wife hand knit, and my “custom” orange Capote from Northwest Traders.
I spent the remainder of the day starting processing chores which I finished on Sunday. My family and I will have many fine meals from this 130# dressed doe.
Of course Dan continued to hunt and had a few sightings through Sunday with no shot opportunities. I had to go to work Monday morning, but Dan had the day off. At 5:30AM I texted him “Good Luck” and he informed me he was heading for the “big ridge” which is a prime buck bedding area. A while after daybreak, he texted me that he had busted out a big doe, but was in a stand way at the end of the ridge. Not a few minutes more and I got a text that he had just shot a buck!
This is Dan’s first year on the lease, and in the dark he had not made it all the way out the ridge to the last stand near the end of the ridge. After daylight, he found the stand and climbed in. Shortly after texting me, he caught some movement to his right and a nice buck was following the edge of hill about 60 yards away. Dan was able to get to his feet and get turned to take a shot without the buck seeing him. As the buck passed, Dan made a perfect quartering shot into the chest. The buck made a mad dash over the hill but only made it 75 yards before crashing into a deadfall. While there was little blood sign, the woods on that side of the ridge are very open and Dan could see his prize from some distance.
Fortunately for Dan, it was a downhill drag to one of our fields in the valley below and he could drive his pickup to the deer”¦although loading a heavy buck (187 pounds dressed) was not an easy chore alone. As soon as my morning work was over, I drove to the lease to help Dan and arrived just as he had finished loading the buck. My timing was perfect!!! :grin:
Dan was deservedly happy with his great late season buck, and on the last day he was going to be able to hunt too. :hatsoff:
Look at the backstraps off that buck! :shocked2:
Dan’s .570 ball lodged just under the skin on the offside and was split in two. The below picture shows the split ball with an unshot ball for comparison.
It was a great deer season. Let the small game hunts begin!
