Scott StankowskiOctober 11, 2012
Stevens Point– Any hunter who does preseason scouting with game cameras has a hit list. When sharing with neighbors the hit list expands and the deer take on names. There were several on this year’s list where we hunt and number one was a deer we came to call Nike. Nike, so aptly named because his right main beam swooshed up at the end, was everywhere on our property. That would seem to be a good thing except our property is divided by a county highway. With this buck’s apparent brazen personality, it seemed only to be a matter of time before this buck ended up on the front end of someone’s grill. He was not the biggest of bucks on the land but he was definitely a ‘shooter’ to us and we wanted to get him before a car would
Having shot a deer with Cade the previous night, I was not so eager to get back into the stand. Plus the stand where Nike was last seen was posing a bit of a wind problem. A student at school told me I ought to sit anyways, and my wife encouraged me to go and sit as well. So I trekked my way into the woods covered in head to toe in my Scent Lok attire. Before I left the vehicle I sprayed down head to toe in my new bottle of Scent Killer Gold. To me, my scent control was the key to the entire hunt. I crowned the scent formula with a piece of pine scented Gum-o-Flauge. Sitting in this tree the deer would be coming from bedding to feeding with the wind in their nose, making them more likely to move.
I was situated in a pinch point, 30 yards of woods on both sides of me that mushroomed into forest with corn fields on either side. The night started out slow with another neighbor blaring his 80s big hair rock music 40 acres away. It was loud enough that I could hear the lyrics, it made me wonder if the guy could hear himself think. I laughed at the thought of this guy even thinking, I guess you would need to know good ol’ Carl, I think he still sports a mullet. It didn’t matter to the deer as shortly thereafter the first deer came by at ten yards down wind, a yearling seven year old with a dandy split brow tine. I did a little blessing over him that he matures into a 3 year old deer for his uniqueness.
A doe and her fawns came out onto the corn field downwind a bit further, something the little buck did not like. He took off stomping, spooking the others and decided to then subsequently blow and snort for the next five minutes. I learned that deer will snort at each other as though they had smelled a threat. What he was saying I have no idea, but the does came back out about twenty minutes later. They hugged the edge of the field in the ten rows of corn that were cut and passed right on the edge of the property. It didn’t take long and another deer was following, a small buck, perhaps the one I had previously seen. It was really tough to tell the size of the racks at 45 yards as the racks where the same color basically as the yellowed corn. The next two deer to come after that were both increasingly bigger with the last one being a definite shooter. To my amazement two more bucks came rambling through that same spot with an even bigger buck trotting through. As the light began to wane I figured my night was done and I was fine with that because I had seen more bucks in one night then I have in a long time.
Then I heard the leaves downwind of me begin to crackle. The evening was quiet as far as the wind was concerned and this was definitely a deer. A deer alone and just before dark. Odds were in my favor. Making it increasingly more convincing was the deer’s rate of pace. He was definitely taking his time. Four steps and pause, another three steps and pause. Six steps and it seemed as though he would stop for five minutes. I figured with this type of caution I would get scent checked, but he kept on coming.
I never got a good look at his head until he was just about right under me. The path that he was on put him between me and a brushy tree that still had plenty of green on it. As he stepped out I knew it was Nike, I saw the swoop. He stood broadside at ten yards but was still behind some small saplings. He began to walk and as he started to quarter away at eight yards I bleated to stop him. With his front leg forward I settled my pin behind the shoulder and let the arrow fly. The Rage in the cage did quick work as he took off and crashed a mere forty yards from where he was hit and quickly expired. I had finally gotten a buck that I had on camera and hunted. It had taken me three years of game cameras to do this and the feeling was awesome. Nike was a big boy field dressing at 180 pounds making him an estimated 239 pounds of live weight. His 120 inch rack was seemingly small for his body but plenty good for a guy like me.
Until next time,
Shoot straight
