Record Book or Throw the Book

Out of curiosity: if a deer was raised in a game-farm but got out because a fence broke, and was then killed on public land — does they count for record books?
 
What if the deer wasn’t in a pen, but some grandmother fed the deer her calcium pills, a big bowl of oatmeal and some blueberries every day, because what old person doesn’t love blueberries in their oatmeal? What ranch hasn’t allowed some giant bucks to nibble on haystacks or get some extra corn to help them out to live another year.

The record books “work” if you turn a blind eye. Is there any doubt some were poached, and it wasn’t long ago when game laws weren’t even a thing. How many were taken by commercial hunters and sold to hunter tourists. There isn’t a town in America without at least one young dude that would gladly mow down a record book buck at night if it was unlucky enough to stand in the road.

I’m friendly, quick to start talking about hunting with like minded folks of all kinds, but in my lifetime the total number of folks I’ve had in-depth hours long trophy chats with has been minimal. Given that, I met a dude on a fire line one day with photos in his wallet of some giant Wyoming whitetails that he took on an out of the way ranch. I wasn’t there, but his claim the antlers were sold to others and they are listed as the shooter seems believable since he was a common broke hired hand and the money was too good to pass up. He wouldn’t have had direct contact in his social circle with the type of person who would pay top dollar, but horn buyers do. Maybe he’s full of it and his boss took the two deer, but there are likely to be many B&C entries where the story is full of crap.

Today high fence hunting and more and more public land hunting is not unlike raised pheasants, or stocker trout. If the fenced in area is large enough it’s called an entire state, or county, and then it’s somehow different? Elk and deer feeding to keep large numbers up sure sounds like agriculture. The elk refuge in Jackson has some nice high fences. Many highways have high fences.

Record books have probably always had a certain “smell” to them - it’s the bragging board at the local gun store combined with a reason to get together at banquets and rub elbows with others who love big animals, and nothing is perfect. Looking the other way at times at things that stink is the American way.
 
He is not a wild buck. His antlers are pure white. He has never spent much time outside of in the wild or he would have polished them.

This first buck lives in a 100 acre pen with a bunch of of fallow deer. He has some brush to work his antlers on but not much. He shares this pasture with about 20 fallow deer bucks and 5 or 6 red stags.. So there is competition to work his antlers. His antlers are pretty light.

The bottom stag lives in a 2000 acre forest reserve in a castle that is high fenced. Much darker horns.

I wish I had a photo of a buck that lives where they can't polish their antlers, it is a totally different hing.

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I'm very familiar with this town, a few things the articles don't mention.
It is very much "small town Wisconsin' meaning everybody knows everybody.
The local bars, restaurants and such serve as a network of social clubs where, where everyone compares notes about everything in town, the old codgers, are more like town historians. If you do business with anyone in town, or talk to your neighbor, don't kid yourself, it goes on your permanent record, in the good -ol boy database. This is like the original internet.

This guy shows up with a hell of a story (and it's mounted already, in record time), no one knows him, no one knows of anyone that knows him. A deer like that would have a guy bragging about it, news would have spread quickly though the tri-county area. There are no photos of the kill day. There are no one with photos on trail cam of him, or anything that looks like a relative of him. Even though this is Gods country, genes like this don't exist in this area, we would know.

Last time I seen antlers that color, were on a sun bleached shed, or a caged animal.

It sure seems like a half thought out idea, mounted by a buddy.
 
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