My Dad's first experiences With Bigfoot.

I had just finished my cup of Coffee when my hunting partner came in the door. He was anxious to get back up to the Turnpike where he had spotted Big Foot the day before. Scott had climbed up to the top of this ridge I had showed him. As he got to the top and stopped to catch his breath he caught a fleeting glimps of a huge deer. with a rack that would scare the bravest of hunters. This is kinda how bigfoot got his name, besides having a big track he's very hard to find. If you do see him it's only for a second, then he's gone. T started hunting the Turnpike a couple years before this hunt. I was looking for a change of scenery and the Turnpike is just a few miles from where I live. It's a dirt road a couple miles long that nobody lives on and state land on both sides, got to be a couple thousand acres. I had just finished scouting the area that first day and was heading back to my truck when I came across on old man who had just finished hunting. I stopped to talk to him. He looked to be in his seventies. He asked me if I had seen anything. I told him I found some fresh tracks. He proceeded to tell me about this elusive big buck that him and his buddies had hunted and could never get a shot at. I never saw that old man again but somehow I feel I have picked up where he left off. On our way up to the Turnpike this morning I was telling Scott that I was pretty sure that if he was to take a stand on top of that ridge I could put Big Foot out to him. I dropped him off at the designated spot, and turned the truck around. That ridge is about half way across the Turnpike. The plan was for Scott to take a stand on the ridge and I was to do a still hunt drive in a zig zag. I knew if Bigfoot wasn't pushed hard he would stick to his runways and he should come out just below the ridge where Scott was standing. I started my drive and it wasn't long before I picked up his track. It had snowed the night before and with a couple of inches of fresh snow it was hard to slow myself down and zig zag with fresh tracks to follow but I contained my excitement, took five steps then stop, five steps then stop, keeping a keen eye ahead. It seemed like forever to get to that ridge but as I neared the stream that told me I was close, I started listening for the shot. But there was none. I started looking up that last hill there was bigfoot's track. I got on it and followed it up the ridge. The tracks stopped right where Scott was supposed to be standing. Bigfoot had stood right where Scott was supposed to be standing. I yelled for Scott. He answered from down below the ridge. He had found some tracks and decided to stand down there. We didn't bring bigfoot home that day. I bet my dad was mad at Scott.

Stan's Log Jam Buck
(Or: How To Track A Buck Until It Dies ! *L*)

Stan is my brother-in-law, hunting partner, and best friend. He has taken many fine bucks in over 25 years of deer hunting, and his determination and persistance in this endeavor is second to none. His persistance carries over, as well, when it comes to retrieving wounded game. Stan was bowhunting on his property in southern Michigan on the evening of November 2,'97, when a decent fourteen inch eight point buck started feeding toward him. He had already decided that he would take a shot, if the buck came within range. Sure enough, the buck moved into a shooting lane, and Stan let loose with a razor tipped arrow. The arrow hit the bucks chest with a hollow "Thud!", and he watched as the deer ran about 150 yds., then just stood there ! "That Buck should be dead by now !" he thought. But he sat and watched as the deer slowly walked away into the growing darkness. I had already come in from my evening hunt, and was just sitting down for some dinner when the phone rang. Stan and I usually call each other to see how we made out, but I knew that he must have one hit for him to call me in the middle of dinner. "I'll be right over" I told him, and proceeded to grab my flashlight and car keys. It had been almost two hours since he had shot at the buck. He told me the story, and it sounded like the deer was definately hit hard, but we couldn't figure out why he had stayed up for so long. We soon located some blood, but it was far from the amount we had expected to see. Right then we decided it would be best to let the deer lie up overnight, and hopefully we would find him dead in the morning. The buck was headed for a thick bedding area adjacent to his property, and we were confident the buck would die in there overnight. We agreed to meet at Stan's house at 10:00 am, so that I could hunt for a couple hours in the morning. Shortly after 10:00, I arrived at the house, only to find Stan shaking his head in disbelief. He had taken up the blood trail shortly after daylight, expecting to find the buck dead just inside the thick bedding area. He was slowly picking his way along the sparse blood trail, when he heard a crash, and saw the buck get up from his bed and run off !! "I know I hit him better than that !" he said. "I can't believe that buck is still alive !! " We then decided to wait a few more hours, and go back after the deer in the afternoon. Surely he would be dead by then !! That afternoon we returned to where he had been bedded. The blood in his bed was dry, but there was no doubt that this was the buck we were after. After a couple hours of "on your hands and knees" searching, we ran out of blood to follow. The deer was heading in a westerly direction, so we decided to spread out and just search the area ahead of us, and hopefully find the buck dead. Not long into our search, I saw Stan ahead of me, waving his arms and motioning for me to come over. He was standing on the bank of a thirty foot wide creek, and there, almost directly across from us was the buck ! Only he was still very much alive !! Stan slowly maneuvered to try to get another arrow into the deer, but just as he was about to draw back, the buck got up and ran off ! It was now a full 24 hours after Stan had shot at the buck........ The creek was way too deep and swift to try to attempt crossing it, so Stan decided he would get permission from the landowners on the other side, and give it another go the next morning. He knew the area well, and he knew that there was a four foot sheep fence surrounding the area that the buck had gone into. The buck had to be too weak to jump that fence, so hopefully, he would be found within the confines of that pasture. The next day Stan returned alone to search for his buck. I was convinced that the buck had to be only superficially wounded.....how else could he still be alive ? Stan searched every square foot of that pasture, and every foot of the sheep fence for evidence that the buck had crossed it, but did not find one single bit of evidence that the buck had even been there ! It had now been three days since he had shot the buck, and was finally about to give up, when he decided to take one last look in the area by the creek. He was walking back along the creekbed, not really expecting to find anything, when he noticed a curious brown lump sticking up from a logjam in the creek. Closer examination showed that it was the rear end of a deer......but could this be the buck he had arrowed three days earlier ? The head was down under some logs, so it was impossible to tell if it was even a buck ! It would be impossible to pull the deer out of the water without some ropes and poles, so Stan returned home and gave me another call. "I think I might have found that buck" Stan said, "but its out in the middle of that creek, and we'll need some hooks or poles to get him out ". Once again we returned to the creek, this time equipped with poles and ropes, and we yanked that sucker out of the water. Sure enough, it was The same buck Stan had arrowed ! Evidently, after we had jumped it on the creek bank the evening before, the buck had circled and tried to recross the deep waterway. Being in such a weakened condition, the buck was unable to climb the steep bank on the other side, and drowned ! I still kid Stan about whether we can count this buck as a "bowkill" or not ! Upon examination of the deer carcass, we saw that the arrow had entered low in the chest and angled back, just grazing a lung , and part of the liver. It was one of those freak shots that would have put the deer down very quickly if it had been an inch or two in either direction. The meat from the buck was still very good,as it had stayed in the ice cold stream overnight. This buck is far from being one of Stan's biggest, but it will surely be one of his most memorable ! Only through his dogged persistance and determination was he able to recover this buck !

The BIG accomplishment deer.
I congradulate this kid.

This was only my third time hunting ever since I had turned 12, but now I was 14 and really itchin to get my deer. I had missed two on our last trips and that made it even harder on me.

It was still dark when we reached my stand, my dad patted me on the back and said "shoot straight son", something he always said to me that I never did. I climbed up to my stand which was in a little clump of trees only about 12 feet up. I got all set up and listened to my dad walking to his stand. Eventually, it got light and I was starting to get bored. It was only about 8 AM but I was tired. I told myself only 20 more minutes, but just then I heard a twig snap behind me, I slowly looked back but saw nothing. I thought it was one of those stupid birds that kept flying around my head, so I turned back around.

Then it happened again, rustling in the leaves. I slowly stood up and turned around and was surprised to see a small doe about 20 yards away. I turned to the side a little expecting her to come along the path she was on, which went under my tree. But, nope she turned and went totally behind my tree. I turned all the way around and my stand cracked, she looked right up at me for a long time, I started squinting and really shaking, I was thinking I would bag this one for sure, she turned away. One more step and I had her!

She took the step, I drew back my bow, she looked up and I let it fly. Thud! It was the prettiest sound I have ever heard. I hit her a little far back but it was still a hit, a deadly one. I watched that deer lay down for an hour until I got out and went to my dad. It was the happiest day of my life. Now that I am 15 I hope to get another deer this year. And I hope you spend time out in the woods with a young person, even if it isn't your own kid because it means alot to them!

The Funny deer. My first time ever hunting was with my boyfriend this year. It was creeping up on 4:30pm and it was getting sory of cold out. I was whining and complaining as usual and I wanted to leave. Just to shut me up, he pointed to the biggest Buck that I have ever seen, it was a 14 point! I screamed with joy, little did I know, that he would run so right then and there he took off...since then my boyfriend won't let me go hunting with him again! Oh well.... Anonomous