“Are you all right?” ..”Yeah”.. “Do you still got him?”.. “Yeah”… “How’s your hands?”…”Cold”.. “Do you need a break?” ….”Yeah”
These were the four questions and answers that were repeated for close to four hours as I laid on a huge rock waiting for the buck of my dreams to get out of his bed.
It all started about 4 years ago. My dad and I were javelina hunting on a rim above a nearby creek. I heard leaves crumpling below and I looked down and spotted him. His rack was massive, wide and tall, I’d never seen a whitetail so huge. That day was the start of our obsession; we knew one of us had to get that buck.
My dad and I set out some trail cameras the next day hoping to get some pictures of him. Over time we learned a lot about him such as where he liked to hang out.
My dad and his friends tried several times to find him during archery season. But he never showed himself. Finally, I drew the rifle tag for the late hunt which lasts for about 3 weeks. We knew we could take our time and wait for him to show up. We glassed the area where we knew he liked to chase does. We were consistently seeing does so we knew it was only a matter of time, if he was still alive, he would surface.
Two days before Christmas while we sat glassing on our hill, my dad spotted him! Game on. We put about a ½ mile stock on him to get in shooting position. At that point he decided to bed down and keep an eye on his does. He was partially hidden by some scrub oak bushes and I had no choice but to wait it out.
I chose a rock that I could lay down on and have a good sturdy rest. I laid on that rock with him in my scope off and on for 4 hours while waiting for a clear shot. It had been mild weather up till that day but the wind kicked up to 20 to 30 mph gusts and it was freezing cold. I had to slide off the rock every once in a while and go behind a cedar tree to stretch and move around and get warm.
My dad kept an eye on him through his binos and my uncle and brother-in-law also had him spotted from another glassing spot. He wasn’t going anywhere; it was just a matter of time and patience.
My dad nudged me and told me that the deer had finally stood up and I knew it was time. He was still covered by the brush so I had to wait for one more step to put his shoulder in the cross hairs. Seconds later, he stepped, I pulled the trigger and he dropped back into his bed and never got up again. One bullet at 250 yards and he was mine!
Me and My dad
The 'glassers', my brother-in-law Brian, grandpa Leon and uncle Brian.
A few days later my dad boiled out the skull and we found a broadhead and shaft embedded in the sinus cavity and eye socket. He was definitely meant to be mine.
