It was a cold November weekend in either 1990 or 1991. After several days of rainy, windy and generally poor hunting weather as well as seeing deer running full tilt at 300 - 400 yards ahead of us, my cousin Jon Blaine, his father Roger Blaine and I had just about had enough. Bambi hauling ass at 500 was a common description of the previous couple days' hunting. We'd been hunting hard with no success. Finally, the last morning of Jon and Roger's stay, the weather broke. Clear skies, some frost on the ground and temperatures in the mid 30's - ideal hunting weather! I decided I'd hunt one side of our chosen hollow and Jon would be hunting the other, this way, any deer would get in a cross fire between the two of us. Jon, was a little ahead of
me when I heard him shoot, then another shot, then another. He was having trouble and I couldn't see the deer. I got into an open area and raised my arms in a questioning motion. Jon replied, "There's fucking deer everywhere!" in an echoing shout across the valley. I told him, "Hold on I'm on my way." When I made it to him he was out of shells and excited. "Brad there are deer all over the place this morning!" From our position, I counted about 10 deer feeding casually on the opposite ridge. "Do you have any shells?," he asked.
I said, "Yeah, but they won't work in your gun so you're going to have to go back to the old house and get more." He agreed and I told him I'd stay put till he got back. A short 30 minutes or so later, he made his way to where I was waiting. I pointed out a large doe that was moving slow enough that we could make a stalk on her. I didn't trust our ability to shoot 400 yards with the shooting record we had that day! I outlined our stalk to Jon and noted that when we came over a small rock outcropping we should be able to see the doe. We then set off. About 45 minutes of hard stalking we arrived at the rock outcropping and didn't immediately see anything. Then, I caught the white patch of the doe's neck as she fed on honeysuckle vines. I told Jon but he couldn't see her so I made the shot - a headshot nonetheless. Jon and I approached the deer and two other deer we hadn't seen took off. Jon immediately dropped the first one in a single shot. As we reached the doe I had shot, the escapee made the mistake of returning. It was a dumb button buck that simply stared at us. Jon asked, "Do you think I should shoot it?" I replied, "Shoot that son of a bitch!" As Jon touched off the round, I
literally saw the hair part on the button buck's brisket. We were proud of our 3 for 3 record - 3 shots for 3 deer with a tough 300 plus yard stalk on open ground nonetheless - an ultimate accomplishment in the way of stalking. As we made our way back to the old house we met up with Roger. We explained what had happened and he shook his head saying, "It figures. . . last day we're here, gotta get packed up for North Carolina and you go off and shoot 3. Now we're going to be late." As if Roger had never been late before! Anybody that knows Roger knows that he is consistently late. However, this time the reason was due to something other than plain old dragging ass. This time it was dragging deer and the 2 hours of butchering afterwards! |
