My biggest is the buck in my profile pic. I had occasion to write it up the story for publication (which hasn't happened yet). Here it is in its copy and paste glory:
A broken scope leads to a dream buck
By Brian Jaynes
November 17, 2024
Kansas – a private ranch
First, a quick introduction of myself and the main players in my story. Legally, I’m Brian Jaynes, but you can call me Doc. I’m a 100% disabled combat veteran. I served as a combat medic, first in 2007 and then again in 2009-2010. Both deployments landed me in the warm paradise known as Iraq, which is a far cry from where I was raised and the place I now call home. Originally from the Midwest’s farmlands, I now reside on a very rural mountain in the Ozarks with my wife, a couple of dogs, and not enough guns.
On this trip I was joined by an Army buddy named Brandon with whom I did both of my deployments. He and his wife have a get-away cabin on a plot of land that my wife and I sectioned out of our acreage. He is my main partner in crime for hunting shenanigans and long-range rifle work. Along with Brandon came another Army infantry veteran who I have known of for several years. I say “known of” because this was the first time that our schedules meshed enough to get on a hunt together. We were in the same army at the same time but never served together in the same unit. Since retiring from the Army, Justin has been focused on culling, high fence range management, and herd management for both deer and exotics in South Texas. His expertise in field judging bucks is far superior to mine and Brandon’s. This will be important shortly.
This last fall I was in Kansas on a private land hunt with Brandon and Justin. I was shooting a 6 Creedmoor chambered Ruger American Predator wearing a Leupold VX3HD optic. This setup has become the one with which I train new shooters. It’s Ol' Trusty, so to speak. How we got there was Facebook. A couple of weeks before our trip, I spotted a posting in a veteran’s hunting group for whom I am a volunteer. There was an offer for super cheap hunts for a couple of veterans to help them cull off some critters and keep the habitat in balance. I had come out, met the fellow Army infantry veteran, named Todd, who was the ranch hand and guide, and taken a cow elk and a whitetail doe.
While on that trip I was astounded by some of the bucks that I saw doing pre-rut buck things. Chasing, fighting, the whole nine-yards. It was fantastic and I vowed to return during the rut if they would let me. I badly wanted a shot at a big Kansas buck after years of hunting only our relatively scrawny Ozark Mountain bucks. Fortunately, Brandon, Justin, and I were able to arrange another hunt for mid-November. All three of us are seasoned hunters, shooters, and have guided for big game although Justin is by far the most experienced. The ranch was just opening to non-family hunters for the first time so the expectation when the three amigos came a callin’ was that we would give new guide Todd constructive criticism and answer question about operations for the land owner. Todd is a dedicated and successful hunter but had never guided before or dealt with clients, at least none who were paying. They also wanted advice on setting up an in-house processing operation which is something that all three of us have more than a bit of experience in. The trip was going to be a win-win whirlwind 48 hours.
Due to our various injuries and generally impaired mobility over the rough terrain of the ranch, we were riding around in the feed truck refilling feeders and checking fence. Basically, keeping busy helping the ranch hand with his chores until the evening’s prime time started. I think we found the only piece of the Kansas map that has contour lines on it. As we slowed coming down a hill, we saw a couple of bucks fighting in the tree line. Several smaller bucks and a few does were milling around watching the fight and generally ignoring us. Justin was giving me a running commentary of the racks of the bucks we could see. He finally tells me that one of them is a quality shooter buck in the 150/160 inch class.
I hopped out, leaned against the truck mirror, and fired off a well-aimed shot at the bigger buck standing around 110 yards away. This would have been the largest buck of my life. Rifle fired and the buck didn’t react as if hit. In fact, he did not even appear to have heard the suppressed rifle shot. My Banish Backcountry suppressor had done its job well. Luckily the other buck had his undivided and complete attention. WTF?! I don’t generally get buck fever and didn’t get it this time. I am an expert marksman with the Army medals to prove it. Heck, I have a rifle range in my front yard. All I could think was, “This shouldn’t be happening to me, not now!” Not only did I want my buck, I wanted to keep up. Both Justin and Brandon had already harvested cow elk, taken with the Christensen Arms rifle using Hornady ELD-X ammo from their Precision Hunter line.
I decided to do a little Jimmy Buffett style insanity – trying the same thing repeatedly and expecting a different result. No dice, but on shot #3 Brandon saw my ELD-M’s bullet splash several hundred yards behind the buck on a distant hillside. Always the dedicated battle buddy and Designated Marksman he had been spotting for me. I was off by over 6 FEET! Shooting high. Justin told me to drop my rifle and tossed me his Christensen Arms Ridgeline in 7mm PRC. What he actually said was “Doc, toss that POS and use mine. Catch.” Out of the truck window his rifle came flying to me. As I caught the rifle and worked the bolt to get it into action a new buck appeared out of the brush. Justin’s rifle was zeroed that morning and had already taken two animals so there was no doubt it was working properly. Justin yelled at me, “SHOOT THE NEW BUCK DOC! SHOOT THE BUCK ON THE LEFT!”
I found the new buck in the Arken SH4 6-24x optic and held it steady behind the shoulder. Bang! Flop! Zero drama at all. Just a quick off hand shot and it was over. I didn’t realize it in the moment but each time I had missed with my rifle I took a step or two closer to the buck and away from the truck. Why I thought this would make a difference I have no idea but it is what happened. This is also why Justin had to toss me his rifle instead of just handing it over.
This might be the only time in my life that I'm grateful for a scope failure and missing a 160-class buck. I had never seen the antlers the buck carried until I walked up on it lying in the tall grass and leaf litter. I took the shot solely on Justin’s word. I walked up and could see antlers rising over the grass. Lots of antler! HOLY SMOKES! Full disclosure, that’s not a direct quote but this is a family friendly article. The "new" buck green scored 186 6/8"! Main frame 4x4 with double eye guards on each size. By the methods I grew up with in the Midwest it would be a nineteen-point buck because of the trash he carried around his bases. That is to say that nineteen of his points would hold a wedding ring. Best educated guess on body weight is around 200 pounds. He tooth-aged at six and a half years old. I used the same rifle to take a big bodied old doe minutes later.
Upon later inspection my rifle had sheared off both screws on the rear mount and the scope wouldn't hold zero. I have no idea what happened to it. Breaking both the scope and bases is new to me, though I have busted more than a few scopes over the years. The week before I'd used the same setup to coach a new shooter out to 700 yards on our private range without issue and the rifle was transported in a hard sided pelican case and wearing a neoprene scope sleeve. No airline luggage apes were involved as I drove to the hunt. Leupold replaced the scope after testing, but that is kind of a moot point as it failed me when I needed it most. The replacement has since been sold as I lost confidence in it.
I was able, no, correction WE were able to turn absolute failure into unmitigated success due to the help of two brothers-in-arms, a good rifle, and a working optic. Would I change a thing? Well, doing so if it was possible would have certainly lowered my blood pressure during the event but would have taken away its value as a great hunting story. Given my druthers, I’ll take a story that I can repeat around our campfires for the rest of my life. The fact that it involves my old comrade in arms saving my bacon once again is just the icing on top of a great story. As for Justin and I, we have “trauma bonded” so to speak over the fact that we both can “shoot, move, and communicate” under duress even if the duress is of my own making. He will be joining Brandon and I on our annual deer hunt here on our beloved Ozark mountain top in 2025.