Favorite Hunt if all time (Antlerless only)

[bushwhacker1975]

Share a story that doesn't include antlers just a good ol hunting story where it meant more then horns

 

[Jpsmith1]

OK, I'll play.

2011. I had just picked my early 90s bow back up the year prior since I was off a couple weeks in October for a hernia surgery.

Prior to the season, I actually had done a little scouting (SHOCKER!) and set a stand along a travel route.

Opening morning was cold, a little drizzly and I dang near fell out of the stand because I think I had nodded off a bit before MommaDoe gave her warning snort right under me. MommaDoe and DaughterDoe did not mess around. They bounded off into the brush behind me, never to be seen again. ButtonBoy, did not have as the good sense of his female relatives and hung out directly behind me about 25 yards.

No rangefinder, no nothing but XX78 arrows and a prayer, I let one fly with my 20 pin.

I didn't see the impact, I didn't have the presence of mind to take note of all the little things that you need to watch and listen for during and immediately following a shot with a bow. Neither did I wait patiently and allow the animal the time needed to expire. I nearly ran to the area where the deer was standing, found bright red splashes of blood and began tracking through the damp greenery.

A couple minutes later, I found ButtonBoy, dead as a stump with a 3 blade hole as cleanly through his heart as if I'd intentionally placed it there. The picture clearly shows just how small he is compared to the 28" arrows and old Martin Black Panther bow (I am about 98.7% sure)

 

[bushwhacker1975]

awesome every harvest is great!! bet he tasted amazing !!!

 

[BoogerCounty]

When my wife and I first started dating, she immediately took an interest in hunting, fishing and spending time outdoors with me. What started off as her tagging along when she could so that we could spend more time together, quickly turned into her showing a deep interest into starting to be able to do it all her self. I have always been appreciative of her willingness to learn and improve to the point that she can hunt alongside me, and be involved in every step of the hunting process.

This particular hunt was a culmination of all of her years of making herself into a hunter. She had spent years building up the confidence in her archery, climbing, scouting, hiking, etc skills to be able to have her own out of state whitetail tag. We headed to our neighboring state to hunt public land white tails for 10 days. She scouted, picked her spots, prepared and hung her hunting set ups. For the better part of the week, we dealt with the hunting pressure, changing weather conditions, low deer density that make chasing these creatures so challenging.

On the next to last morning, she had a doe come down the trail she was hunting over. She patiently waited for a good shot, and was able to get an arrow through the doe! Our excitement through our shared text messages was short lived, as when she went to retrieve her arrow, it was covered in dark blood, and had the distinct smell of a shot that was too far back. She quickly was able to lean on all of the questions she had asked over the years, and knew to immediately back out and not risk pushing a wounded animal.

We spent the next 8 hours waiting, replaying, doubting and dealing with the sinking feeling that most bowhunters experience if they have been hunting very long. After 8 hours, we went back to her area, and she immediately picked up the blood trail. She tracked blood for 200 yards, and pretty quickly found her harvest, dead in her first bed!

I never even drew my own bow back on this trip. But that one public land doe will forever be a favorite memory of mine, and a reflection of countless hours spent with my bride in the great outdoors, doing something that we both love!

 

[BigMiss]

This will be a long one, but I love this memory so much I figured I'd share in full detail for those interested.

We hunt a spot during gun season that requires a 5 mile rip upriver in the boat. It was an afternoon sit, and we got there a bit late due to the Vikes/Bills 2022 OT game. I was with a buddy (Brother in law) who is a late-onset hunter. He'd had limited shooting experience at this point, and had never shot a big game animal.

We park the boat, creep into our spots, and set up. It's a small public piece, but it holds a lot of does due to bedding cover and forest floor browse. It's a gamble with how far you want to push in to avoid bumping deer, so we always end up within sight of the boat. After clearing the thick browse closer to the river, it opens up into some large pines and oaks. There's a little rolling elevation to it, so if you choose a good spot, you have good visibility from the ground. With the rifles, we don't bother bringing the saddles.

I'm about 200 yards from the river, buddy is about 80 yards past me, both sitting in lawn chairs. Things always seem to happen fast there, and I soon hear some very angry does blowing at us. I scan over to my buddy, who is frantically stuffing his phone back in his pocket, but it was too late. We were in overtime at that point and the game was crazy, and he can't scan the woods while glancing down for each play. This was minutes before Josh Allen fumbled in the end zone, so I don't fault him too much, but I did send a WTF text.

About 15 minutes later, another group of 5 or so does/fawns came through at a good pace. The deer here for whatever reason always come in hot. I am not sure why that is - bumped by bucks in the rut, river carries scent in odd ways? Every year they come trotting in, and I can't figure it out.

He was ready this time, and when they were about 40 yards from each of us, he shot the lead doe. She and one of the others ran right to me and stopped. I could see that she was gut shot, maybe liver too, but she was about 5 yards from me, and confused as all get out, so I stepped a good step to the right to make sure he was clear and shot her frontal from max 15 feet. She flopped, and the other doe just stared at me, standing about 5 yards further to my left. I rechambered the old .270, and set a 150 fusion into her lungs too. After buddy had figured out I dropped both, he turned around to engage the final snorting deer that was about 60 yards behind us. He shot that one, and it ran a short ways and hit the ground, trying to keep going but wasn't getting anywhere.

We quickly met in the middle, exchanged "holy shits" and went to his 3rd deer, which was still moving around, also gut shot. I instructed him to go finish it off, not really realizing that I should have said to either slit its throat, or shoot it in the neck/head. I wasn't thinking in the moment that 40 yards is one thing, but shooting point blank or bleeding one out isn't really the most 'stomachable' way to finish your first deer. Well he walked up to that button buck and put a .308 round right into the front shoulders of that damn 80 pound deer. We didn't get much grind from those shoulders at all.

I gave him some shit about that, but at the end of the day, we got 3 deer in about as many minutes, and no tracking was needed. We drug them to the bank and hopped in the boat. It was just past dark, and he'd left his wife at home with a toddler and a 2 week old, so we were getting some texts I'm sure most of us have gotten. No worries wife (my sister,) we're 30 minutes from home. Due to our delay, we planned to gut the deer at his place, just a few minutes from the landing.

Boat fires right up but we cannot get the damn thing in gear. WTH! We start trolling down river while I take apart the throttle with the tip of my knife. I don't know shit about boats, and can't figure it out. Nothing appears to be wrong, it'll rev in neutral, but when you pull the switch to throttle into gear, the throttle jams up and won't move. We both look at things and cannot find the issue. We troll as fast as we can, and the current is with us (thank god because trolling into the current we barely clear 1mph) but it's taking forever to make progress.

We crack open a Busch Apple (best post hunt fall beverage) and reminisce on the hunt while coasting back to the landing. We did figure out that if we start the motor and throttle up a little, the jet propulsion throws enough water that we were able to hit about 5mph with the current. It took us about 2.5 hours to get back to the landing, and by now his wife was pretty pissed (rightfully, as I'd convinced her to let us go on a "quick" evening hunt and we'd leave for the landing at sundown.)

I gutted and skinned all three deer in his shop that night while he did damage control. He came out to help once the storm had passed.

After the next summer of flawless use from the boat, we assumed the cable had gotten iced up in the below-freezing temps. That next year, we went to go up the river again and couldn't get it into gear trying to leave the landing. We were confused and attributed it to cold temps playing havoc with something to do with the throttle cable. I dug into it that day and found the aluminum cable housing/shroud where it connects to the motor had broken, so it was just kinked up and needed to be straightened out with a pair of pliers to let the cable slide. I have no idea why it only happened in below-freezing temps, but it's been flawless since.

 

[Timplant]

This will be a long one, but I love this memory so much I figured I'd share in full detail for those interested.

We hunt a spot during gun season that requires a 5 mile rip upriver in the boat. It was an afternoon sit, and we got there a bit late due to the Vikes/Bills 2022 OT game. I was with a buddy (Brother in law) who is a late-onset hunter. He'd had limited shooting experience at this point, and had never shot a big game animal.

We park the boat, creep into our spots, and set up. It's a small public piece, but it holds a lot of does due to bedding cover and forest floor browse. It's a gamble with how far you want to push in to avoid bumping deer, so we always end up within sight of the boat. After clearing the thick browse closer to the river, it opens up into some large pines and oaks. There's a little rolling elevation to it, so if you choose a good spot, you have good visibility from the ground. With the rifles, we don't bother bringing the saddles.

I'm about 200 yards from the river, buddy is about 80 yards past me, both sitting in lawn chairs. Things always seem to happen fast there, and I soon hear some very angry does blowing at us. I scan over to my buddy, who is frantically stuffing his phone back in his pocket, but it was too late. We were in overtime at that point and the game was crazy, and he can't scan the woods while glancing down for each play. This was minutes before Josh Allen fumbled in the end zone, so I don't fault him too much, but I did send a WTF text.

About 15 minutes later, another group of 5 or so does/fawns came through at a good pace. The deer here for whatever reason always come in hot. I am not sure why that is - bumped by bucks in the rut, river carries scent in odd ways? Every year they come trotting in, and I can't figure it out.

He was ready this time, and when they were about 40 yards from each of us, he shot the lead doe. She and one of the others ran right to me and stopped. I could see that she was gut shot, maybe liver too, but she was about 5 yards from me, and confused as all get out, so I stepped a good step to the right to make sure he was clear and shot her frontal from max 15 feet. She flopped, and the other doe just stared at me, standing about 5 yards further to my left. I rechambered the old .270, and set a 150 fusion into her lungs too. After buddy had figured out I dropped both, he turned around to engage the final snorting deer that was about 60 yards behind us. He shot that one, and it ran a short ways and hit the ground, trying to keep going but wasn't getting anywhere.

We quickly met in the middle, exchanged "holy shits" and went to his 3rd deer, which was still moving around, also gut shot. I instructed him to go finish it off, not really realizing that I should have said to either slit its throat, or shoot it in the neck/head. I wasn't thinking in the moment that 40 yards is one thing, but shooting point blank or bleeding one out isn't really the most 'stomachable' way to finish your first deer. Well he walked up to that button buck and put a .308 round right into the front shoulders of that damn 80 pound deer. We didn't get much grind from those shoulders at all.

I gave him some shit about that, but at the end of the day, we got 3 deer in about as many minutes, and no tracking was needed. We drug them to the bank and hopped in the boat. It was just past dark, and he'd left his wife at home with a toddler and a 2 week old, so we were getting some texts I'm sure most of us have gotten. No worries wife (my sister,) we're 30 minutes from home. Due to our delay, we planned to gut the deer at his place, just a few minutes from the landing.

Boat fires right up but we cannot get the damn thing in gear. WTH! We start trolling down river while I take apart the throttle with the tip of my knife. I don't know shit about boats, and can't figure it out. Nothing appears to be wrong, it'll rev in neutral, but when you pull the switch to throttle into gear, the throttle jams up and won't move. We both look at things and cannot find the issue. We troll as fast as we can, and the current is with us (thank god because trolling into the current we barely clear 1mph) but it's taking forever to make progress.

We crack open a Busch Apple (best post hunt fall beverage) and reminisce on the hunt while coasting back to the landing. We did figure out that if we start the motor and throttle up a little, the jet propulsion throws enough water that we were able to hit about 5mph with the current. It took us about 2.5 hours to get back to the landing, and by now his wife was pretty pissed (rightfully, as I'd convinced her to let us go on a "quick" evening hunt and we'd leave for the landing at sundown.)

I gutted and skinned all three deer in his shop that night while he did damage control. He came out to help once the storm had passed.

After the next summer of flawless use from the boat, we assumed the cable had gotten iced up in the below-freezing temps. That next year, we went to go up the river again and couldn't get it into gear trying to leave the landing. We were confused and attributed it to cold temps playing havoc with something to do with the throttle cable. I dug into it that day and found the aluminum cable housing/shroud where it connects to the motor had broken, so it was just kinked up and needed to be straightened out with a pair of pliers to let the cable slide. I have no idea why it only happened in below-freezing temps, but it's been flawless since.

I love when boats and whitetails happen in the same story. I also have a spot they never walk in, similar situation, always running trotting on alert. ALWAYS. just inside the thick edge of a river!

 

[BigMiss]

I love when boats and whitetails happen in the same story. I also have a spot they never walk in, similar situation, always running trotting on alert. ALWAYS. just inside the thick edge of a river!

Boats create great memories or shit ones. They're sometimes one and the same, and rarely anywhere in the middle. The best whitetail hunts include a boat! This spot is on a bend in the river, so there is water on, say 60% of the perimeter of public. I would assume boat noise, crunching footsteps, and thermal shifts due to the river cause quite a bit of confusion on where the humans are, and that's why the deer are moving at pace. But that's just a theory. Its the only spot within miles where I'm surprised if I don't see multiple deer per sit, so we save it for gun season. I always look forward to hunting there.

 

[loganwayne]

I grew up in an area of NC with very little deer and my dad didnt hunt anyways.
So in college i met my best friend, who was from the central part of the state got invited to go deer hunting with him the week after Christmas. the first night we went to an old tower stand that had no reason to have two grown adults in it but he wanted to make sure i made a good shot. about 30 minutes before dark a few does trickled out... i got my gun up and he said wait there might be a buck coming, waiting more does come out, told to wait longer, more does until about a minute before legal light was up and 40 does were out in the field in a tight ball. he told me i couldnt shoot because there were to many does. The next day we went to a friend of his and took part in some man drives (these were big drives with 30 or so people). No one told me to take my plug out of my gun so i only had 3 shells loaded. 4 does come trouting towards me. shot the first one at 15 yards folded, second at 10, and 3rd basically point blank. the radio cracked and asked if i got one, i responded and said i killed 3. then people said to send the mountain boy back home he was to much of a killer.

I still hunt with my buddy and his property and finally have taken a good buck off the property after 15 years but still we laugh about my first week of hunting and all the memories we have made since.

 

[S.Clancy]

It wasn't a memorable hunt at the time, but now it is. I took my brother and our mutual buddy (they were both in college still) elk hunting in November 2010. They were in school, so limited time, I was freshly out of school, so limited $$$. My family still had horses then, so I packed up the horses and met the other 2 a couple hours away for a 4-day elk hunt. We stayed in the trailer that night and before going to bed I told those guys "I'm getting up at 430, we need to be loaded and ready to go an hour before daylight. There is a spot I want to be around daybreak, sometimes elk pass through there." They grumbled and went to bed.

430 the next morning I'm up feeding horses, getting saddles on, etc. We actually get going at the right time. We are riding up this ridge and the first tendrils of sunrise start breaking over. I look over at my brother "Blood red sunrise, that's a good sign". 5 minutes later I glass a group of elk working up a cut a half mile in front of us. They are happy just shooting cows, so we sneak in and they both drop cows at like 100 yards. We got to spend the rest of the day hanging out, cutting up a couple elk, and packing them back down to the trailer. They showed back up at school that evening and their roommates were like "Hey, I thought you guys were going elk hunting?" "Yup, shot 2 cows, we're done already."

That was the last time I got to hunt with my buddy. He died in an avalanche snowboarding that next February. Sometimes I wonder if that sunrise wasn't just an omen for the elk but him as well.