Whitetail Deer, Montana
I’m really not much of a big game hunter and definitely not a horn or trophy hunter. My idea of hunting is much more culinary in nature, shoot the first legal size animal that comes along that’s in good shape and head home to more pressing (fishing type) matters. Pretty much opposite my approach to fishing although I’m ok with catching smaller fish, I just don’t spend a lot time targeting “dinks” unless I’m out of alternatives.
So on Sunday morning I went out in my usual mindset- get a deer with as little hassle as possible. Last year, my kids and I used grunt tubes during the rut in the same area I was heading for and I have to admit I was excited about using grunt tubes again because of our success with them last year. They really are effective and it gets you up close and personal with the deer. Plus, it syncs better with my general lazy approach to hunting deer. Basically, you just have to find an area where you know there are deer; lots of does during the rut and you find a good spot and plop yourself down and start grunting.
In ecological terms its called conserving energy, some might call it sloth but it makes more sense to me than running all over the place in a truck, or worse an ATV, climbing up and down mountainsides, wasting all kinds of various types of energy- for a steak or big rack of horns. I must admit though, packing in on horses or mules looks like a lot of fun and is a much more traditional “ecological” approach.
It had just started to snow when I got up so I didn’t get in a big hurry (the ground was bare), having some fresh snow gave me a distinct advantage of knowing any track was going to be fresh and the added quieting effect in the woods would be especially important for a clod like myself. By the time I arrived at my destination the snow had pretty much stopped, the wind was calm and the country was quiet. The area had been logged a couple years ago and is mixture of open grass, old windfalls, scattered seed trees and clumps of smaller young trees. The entire area is probably three or four miles in length and a mile wide with older forest enclosing its borders.
My oldest son called a young four point buck in to us last year in this area, unfortunately he came in behind me about 15 yards away (close enough to hit him with a rock) and by the time I swung around to shoot it was game over. One good leap and the notorious whitetail vanishing act was complete before I was even in the game. They are like ghosts in the forest and I was left standing with a thumping heart and empty sights.
I walked out about 75 yards along a skid trail and cut a fresh track going straight away from me downhill. It was a large track and alone, probably a buck. The area looked like a good place to set up shop, nearby was a place in a pile of windfalls for my hide but before heading for it I got the tube out and grunted three times. As I turned to head for my spot I glanced behind from the direction I had come and standing in my tracks about 40 yards behind me was the buck! He had circled around behind and was about to make his escape and dumb luck on the hunters part just happened to catch him in the act.
Going back over the whole scenario I think that had I not grunted that he would never have stopped and would have successfully put the sneak on me and I probably would have never even seen him or at least I would have spent the next few hours trailing him across the countryside. But the pause was just enough time for me to make the shot. My hunting adventure was over in twenty minutes, less time than I ever dreamed of and probably a record for greenhorn whitetail hunters like myself.
I mentioned that I pretty much shoot the first legal animal I come across and my first look told me he fit the bill, horns with a fork. After I shot he turned his head to run and I knew he was a little better. As it turned out when I found him about fifty yards away he was quite a bit better, a nice five point.
Whitetail Deer, Montana
I’ve never been a good killer and the older I get the harder it is as I understand more with age what it takes to sustain a life. And I love deer, I envy their lifestyle, their fluid movement through their environment, their beauty; so when I kill one its not without some remorse in ending the flow of that beautiful energy through its world.
On the other hand it’s a timeless story of one creature sustaining itself on another and we do love to eat venison and the meat will not go to waste. In the natural world the end is usually not pretty and I can relieve my conscience somewhat knowing that a well placed bullet is a lot more merciful than going down in a hail gnashing wolf teeth and being devoured alive.
Incidentally, there is a lot of fly fur on a deer. I’m pretty well stocked already for general purpose stuff but I’m going to keep the tail and via a tip from some Pennsylvania fishermen/hunters I met a couple years ago on the Missouri, the patch from the top of his head down onto his forhead. This is supposed to make very nice hair wings on deer hair caddis and similar small patterns. I noticed on this particular buck that the area has a very thick oil, almost wax-like coating on it. It also smelt very good, he’d been rubbing on some small firs and pines.
