Thursday, December 9, 2010

Scuba Buck

If you live in Butler County and were outside yesterday morning about 8 a.m. you probably heard the super loud laugh of Mrs. Janet as she dropped the hammer on her best buck to date.

Guided by the ever patient Pat (Guide / Husband to Mrs. Janet), this is how it all came together:

We walked into the woods on Spring Creek at 6:30 a.m.. prevailing south breeze.

My guide had set my new blind according to him, underneath the biggest mulberry tree in Kansas. We got in but not without a series of marital disputes
:  my stool was too short,  the windows in my new blind were too tall and every time my guide crouched or bent over to pick something up, the grunt call in is pocket made noise. Not really a grunt, more of a groan.



When the sun came up, we could see some deer movement on the other side of the creek. I turned about 10 minutes before we saw the deer and told my guide I heard a buck grunt (and not the one in his pocket). He couldn't hear it (cause I was hunting with the deaf guy/guide.)

As I was talking to myself in my head about various things (Should I really be out in the woods with a deaf guide? How am I gonna shoot anything out of a window that is head high, AND DO I really know what a buck grunt sounds like?), my guide got a visual on the buck I wasn't hearing.


Then, two does appeared in front of the blind, they came right up the ridge to the blind within two feet of the window where our sent was streaming over the north part of the pasture.

I had about 3 minutes to decide, so I turned and asked my guide  "Should I shoot?"


He answered in a rather hushed, irritated tone, "I'm not gonna tell you what to shoot."
(Not only is my guide deaf, but a little cranky.)


I decided that it was a better deer than I had ever shot, so I decided to try.

Now...... I Thought. What is that sound I have to make to stop the deer? I don't know if I did it right, but I did it loud.

 
He stopped, perfectly broadside at 20 yards and I shot, destroying the netting on the front of my new blind. I watched carefully but the buck didn't do that high ass end kick.


My guide turned to me and said ,as he does every time I shoot at something, "DID YOU GET HIM?" 

  

Short blood trail (one drop), and the deer only went thirty yards. He landed in 3 feet of water, thinly covered with ice.

Lucky for Mrs. Janet her guide / husband put the scuba gear on and fished her buck out of the frigid creek! 


Monday, December 6, 2010

Ol' No-Show Pudgy Thumb

A true country music legend, George "Opossum" Jones, often made headlines in the 1970's for being a hard-drinkin', fast-livin' spiritual-son of his idol Hank Williams.  The Opossum's wild lifestyle led to him missing many performances, earning him the nickname "No Show Jones."  Which brings me to the story about this weekend...

On Friday, things were shaping-up nicely and all the ingredients were in place for the perfect duck/goose hunt the next morning.  The weather report for Saturday morning called for north winds after midnight, declining temperatures with partly cloudy skies and Friday's above freezing temperatures had preventing icing. This would be the first time since the migratory arrival of our feathered prey all the puzzle pieces were fitting together for a hunt at the marsh, and on a Saturday no-less!

After designing a plan for Saturday AM that General MacArthur himself would be proud of, I finally fell asleep eagerly anticipating the inevitable morning slaughter.  The alarm clock was unnecessary, as I was conscious and loading gear long before it was scheduled to remind me to wake-up and go hunting.  All was going according to plan until something just felt wrong.  I couldn't help but notice we were five minutes past our agreed upon departure time and I was yet to hear the familiar sound of ladders clanging against a ladder rack as my brother's truck announced its arrival on our street.  At first, I was not too troubled, as my plan always has a slight buffer built-in to accommodate "late-comers", but grew concerned as time passed.  I was sure Ol' Pudgy Thumb would show, after all he had sent a text at 11:19 PM which read, " It's going down in the morning.  I'm coming early, let's do it right!".  As we approached the "drop-dead" departure time and I could observe everyone was growing restless, I had to do the unthinkable, press forward and leave a man behind!  During the drive east I was rehearsing what I would say at my brother's funeral service, since the only logical explanation for his absence was his passing.

Arriving at the marsh, one man down, was bitter-sweet.  The chilled dark morning sky was filled with birds flushed from the water, but absent was the "Short One's" display of excitement in the form of his trademark pelvic thrusts.  The set-up was textbook and well choreographed.  Legal shooting light was 6:57 AM, by 7:10 AM there were 9 ducks down and 2 geese.  A full limit of ducks was in the brace by sunrise and a near limit of geese followed shortly thereafter.  Waiting on our last goose, while enjoying a healthy breakfast of biscuits and gravy in the blind, I received a text from my brother.  Relieved I was not going to be speaking at his funeral, I was left shaking my head as he explained the reason for his absence.  Long story short, in true George Jones fashion, Ol' Pudgy Thumb's wild lifestyle had caused him to miss one remarkable hunt and earned him the new nickname of "Ol' No-Show Pudgy Thumb"!                      

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Flinging Arrows

This past weekend the Pile Boys hit the trifecta at Coon Bottom.  We were all able to put bone on the ground, for Jeff and Dad, it was their first buck with a bow!  Definitely a neat experience to be hunting with someone when they reach a milestone, especially with family.

Lefty on Nov. 13th
It all started Friday night around 5 PM, my hope was beginning to fade with the sun when I noticed a doe approaching from the east.  As she nervously made her way down the hedgerow, she was obviously being pushed by something, as she would pause every few steps and look back over her shoulder.  When she finally made it beneath my tree, I heard a deep grunt echo out of the timber, which confirmed her nervous behavior.   Within a minute or two, I could hear leaves crunching along with more grunting.  By this time, the doe had passed by and was standing 30 yards in front of me.  The moment of truth arrived in the form of "Lefty", a buck which was number two on my hit list.  He walked down the trail and stopped directly in a shooting lane at 17 yards.  After a couple of deep breaths, I came to full-draw and made the shot.  He bucked and ran 25 yards then dropped right on the trail!  



On Saturday morning, I drove around to pick-up Dad and he was already standing at the road.  I notice he did not have his bow, so I inquire to its whereabouts, thinking he had left it in the tree (he is getting older you know!).   He causally says that he laid it out in the field...on top of his buck!  He then points out in the middle of the green wheat field, where I see his first arrowed buck taking a dirt nap!   


















Jeff a.k.a Ol' Pudgy Thumb rolled into camp late on Saturday night.  (Seems the whole marriage thing has put some cold water on his hunting!)  After a late night around the campfire, he headed to the stand vowing to shoot the first thing with antlers that crossed his path.  True to his word, by 8 AM, we got a text declaring he had shot his first buck.

No doubt we had a great weekend, one which will be relived in story for a long time, "Remember when the three of us all stuck bucks in the same weekend..."  

Monday, November 22, 2010

Trail Cam Pictures

Is the rut winding down?  Looks like bucks are returning to their nocturnal ways and does are back in groups with fawns.


  

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Two More Fall

The past few days have brought much needed rainfall, but the rain is not the only thing which has fallen.  Two Obsessed Buddies have downed bucks!

Ad Hoc Grim Reaper Pro-Staff Member Bill Maddox punched one of his Nebraska tags with this nice 8-pointer.  Nebraska allows hunters to draw two buck tags, so Bill has this "bird in hand" and is now looking for El Grande.
8 yards with a Grim reaper.  Ran about 60 yards and dumped over in front of me with a heart shot.  There were three bucks within 25 yards of me when I stuck this one.  Grim Reaper "Watch'em Drop!"

Terry "Tooie" Tracy also put the hurt on a nice whitetail this past weekend.  


Monday, November 15, 2010

Firing on all Cylinders

With the opening of upland season this past weekend, we are burning the candle at both ends hunting ducks, geese, pheasant, quail, turkey and deer.  The stars align for about five weeks each year where nearly all Kansas game is in season.  The quarry of the day is often determined by weather conditions and wind direction.

The Pile Boys had an awesome time at the farm, a.k.a. Coon Bottom Camp.

Rut in Action

A few days ago we moved the trail camera to a new spot where we suspected several bucks were chasing does and were pleasantly surprised with the results.  All of these pictures were taken in one 24-hour period!








Tuesday, November 9, 2010

GB Lays One Down

Not one to mess around, my good friend Peter Browning a.k.a, GB, took care of business a couple of nights ago, making him the second of my obsessed buddies to grab a handful of antler.  Peter is a no nonsense hunter who has always preached not to pass on a deer early in the season that you would be happy to take on the last day.  In his own words this is how the deal went down:   

"He came in downwind and fortunately the scent lock stuff did its job!  After I shot him at 15 yards with the Rage Expandable broad-head he ran about 20 yards and fell over. That is definitely my most preferred tacking method!" 


Pete tagging out in early November has put Central-Flyway waterfowl on high-alert and for good reason.  Many ducks have already felt his wrath during the first few weeks of the season and things are bound to get worse for those with webbed feet as GB heads to the marsh with his yearly case of buck fever cured!

Ringing Telephone


No doubt the rut is on us like white on rice!  The unofficial start day of November 5th did not disappoint.  The woods were literally alive with deer activity and my phone blew-up with hunting pals checking-in and spreading glad tidings of buck sightings.  Funny how one day everyone is calling recounting uneventful stints in a stand and 24-hours later there is a complete 180 with callers now jabbering on like they are calling to tell of winning the lottery.  My wife is less than impressed with the fact I have become a designated report taker/relayer for all hunting activity in the region.  She doesn't understand why twenty grown men suddenly act like thirteen year old girls after a middle school dance with all the calling and texting.   
Snap-shot of text reports from the front lines.
Seems the past few days have produced many encounters with sparring bucks and other displays from those with antlers jockeying for dominance. 
Young bucks in a Royal Rumble.
I myself have had one encounter with a bona fide shooter, but had the wind snooker my chances on the 10-pointer nicknamed "Hightower".  After setting-up for a windy morning hunt, I lightly rattled and within seconds I could hear crunching leaves.  I realized things were not going according to plan when the sound trail shifted downwind.  After a pause at seventeen yards, the deer took two steps from the hedgerow with his nose in the air, then after catching my scent, swirled like the wind and bolted back into the timber.  Even though I only laid eyes on him for a brief moment, seeing his head-gear left no doubt it was Hightower.  He is a typical ten with an 18-19 inch spread, heavy mass and G2 height of at least 12 inches.        

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Looking for North Winds and Rain

I swear the opening day of duck season is better than Christmas!  Suiting-up in waders and tossing decoys makes me happier than a dog rolling on a dead coon.   However, the lack of rain this fall has left the marsh looking like a mud puddle.Not to mention today was a "bluebird" day more fit for golfing than hunting.  My Grandpa and I celebrated our 25th opening day together in the duck blind with powdered doughnuts and chocolate milk (same breakfast since I was 7).  The shooting was a bit slow, but we managed to put the hurt on 6 ducks and 2 geese.         

He may be getting older, but dropped the hammer on these two geese...two shots = two honkers!

Beautiful morning...would rather had some clouds.


Last year the blind was in the water, now there is 20' of shore.


Friday, October 22, 2010

Sweet Success

This is about a great guy who has always had a passion for outdoor activities.  He is a wicked wake-boarder and is about one of the most solid guys around.  Cody Tracy was injured in an ATV accident several years ago and since has faced a number of challenges in returning to the wild.  One of the challenges Cody has faced is adjusting his hunting style.  Unable to draw a bow or climb trees, he has adapted and become deadly accurate with a crossbow and a stealthy blind hunter.  With some modifications to his wheelchair he found his way back into the woods this year.  After a few close encounters, Cody finally got it done last night and smoked a doe at 35 yards!

Best deer of the year!  Not sure who was more excited...Cody or his Uncle Danny who gets the assist! 
      

Thursday, October 14, 2010

All Work & No Play

Work schedule has kept me from the woods lately, but I have managed a few "meetings" amongst the dramatic fall colors.  Trail cam still showing lots of deer and even more coons (praying hides bring $10 this year..$$$$).  Deer still moving mostly at night, but have seen a few new bucks cruising the food plots.  Also saw a nice 10 point with freshly broken G2.  Based on recent observations, I am guessing we are 20 days from mother nature flipping the rut switch.  As rut approaches my ability to focus severely decreases and to make matters worse, good numbers of ducks (saw at least 50 woods ducks yesterday) and geese are showing up at the marsh...I just love this time of year!

Moultrie Game Camera Pic from Saturday

Not all news is good...My brother and life long hunting partner has made the grandest of all mistakes!  A mistake which will haunt him for many years to come.  October and November are the most sacred months of the Kansas hunting season.  During these hollowed months there are two things which should be avoided at all cost: birth of a child and marriage.  I preach celibacy during February and March to avoid a dreaded oct/nov due date and a lifetime of birthday parties robbing one of precious time in the wild.  Just image yourself sitting at ChuckECheese with half-a-dozen 6 year olds running wild, knowing El Grande is standing broadside 20 yards from your favorite stand (not a pretty picture).  Back to my brother and his everlasting faux pas, in a momentary lapse of judgement he agreed to trade nuptials on October 30, 2010.  Seems harmless enough??  Until he realized he was going to be wearing a tux rather than waders on opening day of duck season!!!  Not thinking of the ramifications of his actions, he has sealed his fate and will forever forfeit some prime outdoor time commemorating his mistake a.k.a his anniversary.  I am not saying it is impossible to venture outdoors on your anniversary, but to my knowledge there is only one man alive in the world today which is able pull-off going hunting on his anniversary and remain happily married to a wonderful woman and that is my good buddy Danny Armstrong....I am still trying to learn his secret!  So this year when we convene service in the holy duck blind, we will have a moment of silence in remembrance of ol' pudgy thumb and inscribe this epitaph on his empty seat, "Hope the Honeymoon was worth it!".

Opening day just won't be the same without the short one! 
      


  

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Slow in the Stand

It's been a bit slow perched in a tree the past few days.  Plenty of does late in the evening, but antlers have been few and far between. Yesterday I noticed the beginnings of a scrape on the edge of the food plot, things should be ramping-up over the coming weeks, .




              This weeks Moultrie Trail Cam Pics

Friday, September 24, 2010

Ready to Go Back

Reflecting back on the trip, I have to admit the experience was extremely physically and mentally exhausting.  Camping at 12,000 feet wears you down because you cannot sleep and you get winded just walking a few yards.  I suppose that could be the reason we were the only hunters in the area.  Having numerous close encounters with elk, black bears, and mule deer was a dream come true!  The weather was perfect and the night sky was nothing short of amazing.  During the hike down, we ran into Andy and two of his hunting partners and spent some time swapping stories.  I was very honored when Andy praised my dedication and determination then invited me back next year.  Needless to say, I already have my tag application ready to submit next April.

   

Burned Socks

Finally Jared made it back to our spike camp from base camp after hauling meat & Bill down the range.  After returning from an evening hunt, I see Jared in camp stacking firewood and I notice he is alone, so I inquire as to the whereabouts of Bill.  Jared says, "Man, I put that dude in the hospital!", thinking he was exaggerating and that Bill must have been too fatigued to hike back, I laugh and then notice Jared is shaking his head and he says, "I ain't kidding, that dude is in the hospital with a blown knee!".  Apparently during the hike down, Bill tore his meniscus and could hardly walk.  Jared got him down the mountain and met Brad in Durango.  Brad took Bill to the ER where after examination, the prognosis was delivered.


Fresh bear track just outside camp.

I was happy to see Jared cause I was getting tired of talking to myself and I was out of food and had been eating grouse and elk steak for the past two days.  He had replenished our supply of oatmeal and ramon noodles.  So food was taken care of, but I was still in need of socks.  The night previous, during some alone time by the campfire, I had rigged a contraption to dry my socks near the fire.  Apparently at some point during the drying process, an ember popped from the fire and scorched a tennis ball sized hole in the calf of my cotton sock.  So at this point I was wearing burnt socks and was on day six with my underwear!  I hadn't packed much clothes to cut down on weight and the original plan was to return to base camp after three days.

View from spike camp
       

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Talking to Rocks

After a night of restless sleep replaying the events from the day before many times over, I struck out once again hoping for the good fortune of another encounter.  Things were quite this morning, as I was alone, since Jared and Bill had packed meat down the mountain and were replenishing supplies.  It was a weird feeling to be completely alone in such a remote area.  The more I thought about it, I realized I had gone nearly 30 hours without interaction with another human being (not easy for a socialite).  While down in the river bottom, I came across this waller:


I could tell the waller had recently been used and while inspecting the area, a monster bull elk jumped up which had been bedded down not 15 yards away.  I was completely caught by surprise and could do nothing but stand motionless as we had a stare down for what seemed like an eternity.  This elk looked like he had walked off the cover of Field & Stream, he was a massive 7x6 with a dark stained rack...easily a 360-370 class animal.  As quickly as it began, it was over...he turned and took-off through the timber like a bull dozer.  Talk about a rush!!!

Stopped down by the river and started a small fire and roasted a grouse and did some self photography.