On November 24th, the rifle portion of deer season in
Maryland opened, and so I was up and at em' early on Saturday morning. I
woke up at 3:30am, left the house at 4:00am and was in the woods, at my spot by
5:00am. During the past few squirrel hunts I had made mental notes on
where I had seen deer sign (tracks, trails, beds, rubs, ... poop) and decided
that my first "sit" would be on a rocky bluff in the side of a hill. A youthful 4” round tree looked like a perfect
back rest. This spot overlooked a small
crick (creak) which meandered through the Oak trees below. The day
before, I had kicked all the leaves out of the area so as to avoid the loud
crunching of leaves while moving around at my spot.
Before turning the truck off, I looked at the temperature displayed
in my rearview mirror, which read a disconcerting 30*F. When I got out of the truck, on went a second
sweater and a flannel shirt, vest and an extra blaze-orange vest. I loaded a round (Winchester .32 Special)
into the chamber of my Winchester Model 94 and six more into the magazine tube,
I tossed one extra bullet in my pocket, just in case. Clicking on my flashlight I set off into the
woods, as quietly as I could, with my beam pointed straight down. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. It was a windy morning and my heart just
about beat out of my chest when sticks dropped from the trees and leaves
rustled close by. Its creepy out here at
night! About 200 yards in, I came upon
my spot without having to search all over 'tarnation for it. Inching down the side of the hill and onto the
“swept” area of my spot, my quiet footsteps put a smile on my face. Nice work with clearing the leaves yesterday!
I pulled out a square of closed-cell packaging foam that I use for sitting
around the fire, when I backpack, and laid it on the rock. On top of that went my $5 insulated pillow I
picked up, in the hunting section, at the Tractor Supply Company. Off went my light and there, I sat with my rifle
across my lap and my eyes and ears wide open.
It was 5:00am.
I had worked up a sweat walking in, but it soon became
apparent that despite my foam and “butt pillow” this rock was damn cold. The wind also seemed to be blowing right along
the side of the hill, pegging me from the left side. As I started to get cold, I contemplated the
direction of my scent and if I had anymore clothes in the truck.
Jeez it's cold out.
Really cold.
Just then I heard the distinct sound of animal movement; the
loping along of an uneasy deer. I heard
5 to 6 steps in the leaves, like weighted, hoofed, dashes and then silence…
then a few more dashes and then silence.
It was only 5:15am and I couldn’t see a thing in the blackness, but the
sound of this deer told me it was no
more than 40’ from me. With my heart
racing, I hammered back my rifle and
aimed toward the sound; my eyes peeled as wide as possible. I aimed at the sound as it moved from my
right to my left. And then, just as
suddenly as it came, it was gone and out of earshot. After a few moments I reflected, I shouldn’t
have hammered back at a noise. It’s
unsafe. Still, I was 100% sure it wasn’t
a hunter.
The morning light slowly crept in, and I was eager for rays
of sun to warm me, but the sky was overcast and it wasn’t going to be a bright
and sunny morning. I was tired and cold
and was wiggling my toes and rubbing my legs to keep warm but that rock just
kept sucking the heat from my body. My long
underwear and jeans weren’t cuttin’ it. At
around 6:00am, I began to hear shots, off in the distance, in all
directions. One about every 20
minutes. The shots encouraged me to stay
put, in hopes that a nice big buck would run my way. Though, at 8:00am when the wind had gotten to
be just too much, I packed up shop and headed for the truck. My first few shivering steps, wobbly and off
balance.
I got in the truck, cranked the heater on high, and drove
through the park to another spot I had seen on one of my previous trips. I hopped out and this time, put an old pair
of coveralls on, overtop of my pants. A
third sweater went on overtop of the other two.
This spot was a logged out area, full of cut timber pile, brush and small fields. The dirt road through the rough-cut land was
quiet and I moved slowly peering out far ahead of me for deer. Snow fell gently as I made my way through the
area. I walked out of the logging area,
through the woods, on a familiar trail which took me all the way back to my
original sitting spot, and then back to the truck. When I got back to the truck, another hunter
was calling it quits for the day. He said
he didn’t see any deer, but had seen a medium sized black bear. Awesome!
I drove into town to grab breakfast at a diner which is
becoming my usual stop in Frederick, after hunting: The Barbara Fritch Candy Cane
Restaurant. On the way, I called my
father to tell him how it was going, but dropped the call as I moved out of
signal range. After a couple of eggs and
bacon I headed back to the woods for round two.
It was noon now and I had 5 hours of daylight left. It was snowing a little harder, but nothing
was accumulating. I decided to walk a
familiar trail I used to mountain bike on.
I had originally stayed away from this area because it tends to be
over-hunted but decided I’d give it a chance
anyway. 50 yards into the woods I came
across a large pile of deer guts and blood.
Somebody got one. This encouraged
me. I moved incredibly slowly down the
trail, stopping occasionally and scanning 360*.
After a while two hunters came stomping down the trail behind me. I gave them a head-nod as they passed
by. Jeez guys, keep it down. I passed them both 30 minutes later. One, sitting at the base of a tree smoking a cigarette. Don’t you guys know anything?
After another couple of hours of slowly walking the trail
incredibly quietly, I heard the sound of dashing hoofs through the leaves. Looking to my right to saw a pair of doe
standing about 100 yards deep in the woods.
I took aim at the large one, aligning on his chest and pulling the
trigger. BANG! Off they ran.
With no sign of impact on the large doe.
I missed! Why’d I rush it?! I kicked myself. I didn’t take my time. I should have waited and watched. Perhaps they would have walked closer to
me.
I’ll be headed back next Saturday for a second shot at it!
