Titan Tom
Member
- Joined
- Jan 24, 2014
- Messages
- 133
- Reaction score
- 470
Yep, I found the scoundrel. Saw him in my mirror this morning. Handsome fellow, looks just like Brad Pitt (in my humble estimation). Problem is, he is, in fact, the world's worst deer hunter. Hands down. Let me explain...
Now I fancy myself a pretty good rifle shot. In the Navy, I earned my 'Expert' rifle qualification, and nice little medal, shooting an M14. A few years after getting out, as soon as I could afford it, I bought a Springfield Armory M1A. This was back in '89, when SA was still using a majority of USGI parts in their build, and mine had a brand new TRW barrel, and that rifle shot like a laser, and it still does. I became involved in the NRA/DCM High Power matches, and eventually worked my way up to an 'Expert' rating there as well. I had grown up shooting on a Junior NRA rifle team in Titusville, FL, and I know that's where I picked up the basics that have served me all of my life. I still shoot regularly in local shoots, using sporting rifles, and actually won a new .308 several years ago after winning one of these informal shoots.
I did turn into a pretty good squirrel hunter, and squirrel hunting has been my life-long passion as far as hunting of any type goes. I like to duck hunt as well, but squirrel hunting is my game. I have always used a 22, primarily a 10/22 at first, years ago, but that 10/22 morphed into a scoped 77/22 and I've never looked back. Head shots only, and only taken from a rested position, usually laying the rifle up against a tree trunk, and only taking the shots that I'm fully confident will result in a clean head shot. I have killed, cleaned, and eaten my weight in squirrels over the years.
So what is my problem? Could it be 'buck fever'? Possible, but not likely. The last two shots I've taken at deer should have easily been successful, but were not. Here's how they went:
About 6 years ago, I was hunting on a neighbor's tree stand next to a 120-acre parcel I own in East Tennessee. It's a great stand, and I call it the Taj Mahal. My neighbor puts me on that stand because it overlooks a small open patch that lures deer down from a small hill that actually sits on my side of the line.
So this 1st incident takes place on a Saturday a few weeks ahead of Thanksgiving, during BP season. The day before, I sighted in my rifle, a CVA Wolf 50 cal in-line, fitted with a scope. Sighted in very successfully at 50 yards. So comes the day, I'm sitting in the Taj Mahal with that CVA. I spy 3 does on the top of the hill on my side of the property line, making their way down to the clearing right below my stand. I had no interest in shooting a doe, so when one finally settles down in the clearing about 50 yards from the stand, I pay it no mind. I even took some pics with my cell phone. I'm still watching this deer when I text a pic of it to my best friend, who is in another deer stand, doing the same as me, but he's in southern Ohio. He texts back that 1) it's doe season, and 2) Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and wouldn't it be nice to have some backstrap on the table? The decision is made, and I set up for the shot. First, I ranged it with my rangefinder, 46 yards, perfect for my scope/rifle combination. I rest the rifle against the stand structure, hold the crosshairs mid-shoulder, and, very carefully, EASE the trigger back until the shot goes. Air full of white smoke, and when it clears, no doe. Gone. ****. No blood. nothing. A missed shot from a rifle sighted in for just about the same exact range. A careful, disciplined shot. No hit.
Then, a few years later, I 'host' a deer hunt in TN. My best friend Donnie, his cousin Chuck from Ohio, and my son, Tommy. I put them spaced out on the 'big' 120-acre property, and proceed to another plot I own down the road, a 31-acre piece that I can squirrel hunt on without disturbing their deer hunt. Got two squirrels that morning, fixed some lunch for everybody at my cabin, which is also down the road and around the corner on the Clinch River, then headed back to the big property to tell the guys that I have lunch ready for them. My son put his rifle, a scoped Savage 270, in the back of my jeep, and rides with the other guys to the cabin for lunch. I let them go first, so I could lock up the gate behind them. They are no more that 3 or 5 five minutes ahead of me. As I'm heading to the cabin on the river for lunch, I necessarily pass in front of the other property I had been hunting on, which those guys had JUST driven past, and I see a huge buck standing about 125 yards away from the road I'm on, looking just like a Hartford Insurance commercial, and I stop the jeep. He's fitted with a rack that would shame Mae West, and I'm lamenting the fact that I only had a 22 with me, when I remember my son's Savage 270 in the back. I ease out of the jeep, open up the back, and I take out the Savage. Deer is still happily munching away on the fescue in the field, doesn't pay me any attention at all. I ease over to the gate posts, made out of native red cedar posts, one of which has a nice notch in the top. I rest the rifle in the notch on the post, remember my discipline, place the crosshairs mid-shoulder, and very carefully start my trigger squeeze. You already know how this ends. Shot is on the way, Mr. Buck immediately drops his head, I just KNOW he's mine, and then he recoups and heads up a steep hill just behind the field like a rocket-powered homesick angel. No blood. Nothing. Another clear miss, and the last shot I have taken at a deer.
I'm not giving up. This fall I WILL harvest a deer on my land. I've set up a stainless 30.06 Savage Axis, with a Leupold 3-9 & lighter trigger spring, and carefully sighted it in at 200 yards. No black powder, no 'somebody else's rifle', no excuses.
I hope that I'm not writing you guys another Sad Sack post later this fall, and, hopefully, I'll be sharing a post describing my first buck at age 59.
Until then, Take Care, and I wish all of y'all safe & successful hunts this season.
Tom
Now I fancy myself a pretty good rifle shot. In the Navy, I earned my 'Expert' rifle qualification, and nice little medal, shooting an M14. A few years after getting out, as soon as I could afford it, I bought a Springfield Armory M1A. This was back in '89, when SA was still using a majority of USGI parts in their build, and mine had a brand new TRW barrel, and that rifle shot like a laser, and it still does. I became involved in the NRA/DCM High Power matches, and eventually worked my way up to an 'Expert' rating there as well. I had grown up shooting on a Junior NRA rifle team in Titusville, FL, and I know that's where I picked up the basics that have served me all of my life. I still shoot regularly in local shoots, using sporting rifles, and actually won a new .308 several years ago after winning one of these informal shoots.
I did turn into a pretty good squirrel hunter, and squirrel hunting has been my life-long passion as far as hunting of any type goes. I like to duck hunt as well, but squirrel hunting is my game. I have always used a 22, primarily a 10/22 at first, years ago, but that 10/22 morphed into a scoped 77/22 and I've never looked back. Head shots only, and only taken from a rested position, usually laying the rifle up against a tree trunk, and only taking the shots that I'm fully confident will result in a clean head shot. I have killed, cleaned, and eaten my weight in squirrels over the years.
So what is my problem? Could it be 'buck fever'? Possible, but not likely. The last two shots I've taken at deer should have easily been successful, but were not. Here's how they went:
About 6 years ago, I was hunting on a neighbor's tree stand next to a 120-acre parcel I own in East Tennessee. It's a great stand, and I call it the Taj Mahal. My neighbor puts me on that stand because it overlooks a small open patch that lures deer down from a small hill that actually sits on my side of the line.
So this 1st incident takes place on a Saturday a few weeks ahead of Thanksgiving, during BP season. The day before, I sighted in my rifle, a CVA Wolf 50 cal in-line, fitted with a scope. Sighted in very successfully at 50 yards. So comes the day, I'm sitting in the Taj Mahal with that CVA. I spy 3 does on the top of the hill on my side of the property line, making their way down to the clearing right below my stand. I had no interest in shooting a doe, so when one finally settles down in the clearing about 50 yards from the stand, I pay it no mind. I even took some pics with my cell phone. I'm still watching this deer when I text a pic of it to my best friend, who is in another deer stand, doing the same as me, but he's in southern Ohio. He texts back that 1) it's doe season, and 2) Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and wouldn't it be nice to have some backstrap on the table? The decision is made, and I set up for the shot. First, I ranged it with my rangefinder, 46 yards, perfect for my scope/rifle combination. I rest the rifle against the stand structure, hold the crosshairs mid-shoulder, and, very carefully, EASE the trigger back until the shot goes. Air full of white smoke, and when it clears, no doe. Gone. ****. No blood. nothing. A missed shot from a rifle sighted in for just about the same exact range. A careful, disciplined shot. No hit.
Then, a few years later, I 'host' a deer hunt in TN. My best friend Donnie, his cousin Chuck from Ohio, and my son, Tommy. I put them spaced out on the 'big' 120-acre property, and proceed to another plot I own down the road, a 31-acre piece that I can squirrel hunt on without disturbing their deer hunt. Got two squirrels that morning, fixed some lunch for everybody at my cabin, which is also down the road and around the corner on the Clinch River, then headed back to the big property to tell the guys that I have lunch ready for them. My son put his rifle, a scoped Savage 270, in the back of my jeep, and rides with the other guys to the cabin for lunch. I let them go first, so I could lock up the gate behind them. They are no more that 3 or 5 five minutes ahead of me. As I'm heading to the cabin on the river for lunch, I necessarily pass in front of the other property I had been hunting on, which those guys had JUST driven past, and I see a huge buck standing about 125 yards away from the road I'm on, looking just like a Hartford Insurance commercial, and I stop the jeep. He's fitted with a rack that would shame Mae West, and I'm lamenting the fact that I only had a 22 with me, when I remember my son's Savage 270 in the back. I ease out of the jeep, open up the back, and I take out the Savage. Deer is still happily munching away on the fescue in the field, doesn't pay me any attention at all. I ease over to the gate posts, made out of native red cedar posts, one of which has a nice notch in the top. I rest the rifle in the notch on the post, remember my discipline, place the crosshairs mid-shoulder, and very carefully start my trigger squeeze. You already know how this ends. Shot is on the way, Mr. Buck immediately drops his head, I just KNOW he's mine, and then he recoups and heads up a steep hill just behind the field like a rocket-powered homesick angel. No blood. Nothing. Another clear miss, and the last shot I have taken at a deer.
I'm not giving up. This fall I WILL harvest a deer on my land. I've set up a stainless 30.06 Savage Axis, with a Leupold 3-9 & lighter trigger spring, and carefully sighted it in at 200 yards. No black powder, no 'somebody else's rifle', no excuses.
I hope that I'm not writing you guys another Sad Sack post later this fall, and, hopefully, I'll be sharing a post describing my first buck at age 59.
Until then, Take Care, and I wish all of y'all safe & successful hunts this season.
Tom
Larry
