S
ssteury
Guest
OK, to be fair, the only thing that this has to do with Iowa is that I failed to draw in IA and hunted IL instead, and that we got in a fantastic day of pheasant hunting near Osceola to boot.
Saturday Nov 9th, windy and a warm forecast.
I was on stand early on the edge of a fallow field, a woodlot and a reedy marsh. The action started early and did not stop… Saw a nice 8 point, two does, two yearlings and a 6 point by about 7:30.
At about 7:45 I saw a nice, white racked typical 10; perhaps 130ish. About 40 yards out, but I thought he was probably a year or two away from his prime and did not try to bring him closer.
Around 8:15 I saw a brute across the fallow field at about 250 yards; he was walking diagonally away from me and was almost out of sight. Grabbing the antlers as fast as I could, I tried to make as loud a clash as possible. His head whipped around, and he closed the first 150 yards in seconds. He stopped, looking for the source, and after a minute I tickled the tines briefly. That got him going again, and I put them down. He paused at about 50 yards and eventually a grunt got him moving again. He moved into a thicket and stopped dead at 18 yards. No shot, but he was only two steps from the open area. He stayed there for four or five minutes, and my heart was in my throat. Plenty of time to know he was a substantial 150ish typical 10.
Finally, he seemed unconvinced and turned around, retracing his steps until out of sight.
I was in disbelief. My consolation, I told myself, was that it was perhaps the most thrilling 10 minutes I have had in 20 seasons of archery hunting
The time was only 8:30, and I decided to stay until I had no movement for an hour…but about 15 minutes later, I saw a big one in the field, and headed for me. At 80 yards, it turned into the brush.
I had a quick look through the binocs, and thought it might or might not be the same big 10. However, he decided not to give me a close look just yet.
At 9:05, he reemerged and came right for me, winding through the thicket that had been the u-turn spot for the buck that had come in to the antlers.
As the closed that final bit, I became certain that this was not the same buck that had come in earlier, but he was almost as big.
At 7 yards, he got it, and he went down after ~100 yards in the woodlot. 9:07 am.
…And there was much rejoicing.
But the story does not end there.
My hunting buddy Jeff was about 400 yards away, and he had seen only a small forkie that morning.
We dealt with my deer, and Jeff decided to see if lightning would strike twice.
Apparently after less than an hour on stand, a buck that he described as “a big deer, I think a 10 pointer, but I had to stop looking at the antlers” came into the area, and moved through the thicket.
As the buck stepped into the open area, Jeff whistled, froze him, and drilled him.
He came and got me, then we got the flashlights and went looking.
Jeff was sure it was a good hit, but has never shot a big one…and like me only hours before he was a bit nervous!
150 yards of bloodtrail later, we are looking at one of the bigger deer I have seen.
His buck was a perfect 12, with nice mass.
I am guessing mine will gross in the mid-upper 140’s and net in the upper 130’s – low 140’s.
Jeff’s buck, on the other hand, should net over 160, and might be close to 170 gross.
Both easily dressed over 225 lbs., and their antler configuration suggests a similar gene pool.
What a day. We did wonder if we should just pawn our bows and quit while we’re ahead, but I suspect we won’t wonder come next October.
On Sunday, we had a beautiful day of pheasant hunting in south-central Iowa on some land we hope to be bowhunting next fall. That’s another tale, but I assure you it was a fantastic experience in its own right.
What a weekend.
Saturday Nov 9th, windy and a warm forecast.
I was on stand early on the edge of a fallow field, a woodlot and a reedy marsh. The action started early and did not stop… Saw a nice 8 point, two does, two yearlings and a 6 point by about 7:30.
At about 7:45 I saw a nice, white racked typical 10; perhaps 130ish. About 40 yards out, but I thought he was probably a year or two away from his prime and did not try to bring him closer.
Around 8:15 I saw a brute across the fallow field at about 250 yards; he was walking diagonally away from me and was almost out of sight. Grabbing the antlers as fast as I could, I tried to make as loud a clash as possible. His head whipped around, and he closed the first 150 yards in seconds. He stopped, looking for the source, and after a minute I tickled the tines briefly. That got him going again, and I put them down. He paused at about 50 yards and eventually a grunt got him moving again. He moved into a thicket and stopped dead at 18 yards. No shot, but he was only two steps from the open area. He stayed there for four or five minutes, and my heart was in my throat. Plenty of time to know he was a substantial 150ish typical 10.
Finally, he seemed unconvinced and turned around, retracing his steps until out of sight.
I was in disbelief. My consolation, I told myself, was that it was perhaps the most thrilling 10 minutes I have had in 20 seasons of archery hunting
The time was only 8:30, and I decided to stay until I had no movement for an hour…but about 15 minutes later, I saw a big one in the field, and headed for me. At 80 yards, it turned into the brush.
I had a quick look through the binocs, and thought it might or might not be the same big 10. However, he decided not to give me a close look just yet.
At 9:05, he reemerged and came right for me, winding through the thicket that had been the u-turn spot for the buck that had come in to the antlers.
As the closed that final bit, I became certain that this was not the same buck that had come in earlier, but he was almost as big.
At 7 yards, he got it, and he went down after ~100 yards in the woodlot. 9:07 am.
…And there was much rejoicing.
But the story does not end there.
My hunting buddy Jeff was about 400 yards away, and he had seen only a small forkie that morning.
We dealt with my deer, and Jeff decided to see if lightning would strike twice.
Apparently after less than an hour on stand, a buck that he described as “a big deer, I think a 10 pointer, but I had to stop looking at the antlers” came into the area, and moved through the thicket.
As the buck stepped into the open area, Jeff whistled, froze him, and drilled him.
He came and got me, then we got the flashlights and went looking.
Jeff was sure it was a good hit, but has never shot a big one…and like me only hours before he was a bit nervous!
150 yards of bloodtrail later, we are looking at one of the bigger deer I have seen.
His buck was a perfect 12, with nice mass.
I am guessing mine will gross in the mid-upper 140’s and net in the upper 130’s – low 140’s.
Jeff’s buck, on the other hand, should net over 160, and might be close to 170 gross.
Both easily dressed over 225 lbs., and their antler configuration suggests a similar gene pool.
What a day. We did wonder if we should just pawn our bows and quit while we’re ahead, but I suspect we won’t wonder come next October.
On Sunday, we had a beautiful day of pheasant hunting in south-central Iowa on some land we hope to be bowhunting next fall. That’s another tale, but I assure you it was a fantastic experience in its own right.
What a weekend.
