Opening Day and Beyond

In 1996, I turned 47 after the end of deer season. Unlike today, I could make rigorous, long-hike hunts in a local state game land to the top of a mountain where Dad had discovered frequently used deer crossing shortly after World War II. He, other family members, one of my friends, and I hunted there for many years. It was rare that at least one of us did not tag a buck. Later, after the PGC embarked on its public-land deer decimation program, it became rare to even see one.

Anyhow, 1997 was the second year that I did not sit alongside my son, Bob, on our deer hunts there. He was 16, had tagged a number of deer, and was mature enough to hunt alone.

That morning Bob got situated at what had been the best crossing of the ones Dad had found. I eased on out the mountain to another crossing near a big oak tree where Dad had often sat on opening day. Not long into the morning, I spotted a buck easing up a deer trail to my right. I raised my rifle and found the buck in my scope. When the buck stopped at 50 yards, I pulled the trigger of my 30.06. The five-point buck tumbled immediately. I was surprised to find that he had four points on one antler. The other antler was broken off. I then walked over to Bob's stand to tell him I was dragging the buck the two miles to the truck. "If you are not home by 5, I'll be back."

Bob was home by 5. He had not seen a buck.

The following Saturday he wanted to hunt by himself. "I'm going to try a spot not too far from the farm [my wife's family's farm]," he said. "I've always wanted to hunt the bank where all the grapevines and oak trees are."

On Saturday morning at 9:30, I heard the engine of my little pick-up truck that Bob had driven out to his chosen spot. When I walked outside to the driveway to see why he was home so early, I was pleased to see a fat 4-point buck. It was the first buck he had killed without my being right with him.

After the season, he took me to see where he had shot the buck. By stepping off the distance, we figured the deer had been nearly 150 yards away. That was a longer shot than any I have ever taken successfully at a deer.