The night before opening day of riffle season has eveolved into a fun filled tradition. On the night we were partaking in festivities for most of the afternoon/evening in preparation for the morning hunt. With the addition of “The Bus” our motorhome Camp Half Rack became mobileJ On this night our buddy Skeeter was leaving the “Safety Meeting” and called letting us know that a buck ran into the side of his truck and he couldn’t find it. Like a team of firefighters going to fight a wild fire, all the participating members of Camp Half Rack went hit the road to save Skeeter. After locating Skeeter and the buck, we learned that the buck was still alive. Like all good hunters not one person was carrying a knife, bow, or, gun. Being that “The Bus” is equipped for camping a hatchet was found and we put the deer out of it misery. Camp Half Rack decided not to waste the meat so we took it back to camp. Drawing the short straws Puddles and I were in charge of gutting the deer so we loaded it up on the vroom vroom. We go to the spot to gut the deer out and unknown to us, Hatchet had fallen out a ¼ down the road. After taking the vroom vroom ride of shame Hatchet became the fuel to power the next expedition.
It was opening morning of riffle season. After a late night of celebrating Hatchet and life, the thorough breads of Camp Half Rack went to the woods for our next adventure. It was a perfect morning and I was sitting in the two man stand. The corn was still up. I was set up make a quick shot towards the woods if needed because I had seen a big buck a few days prior that was out of bow range. It was 8:30 am and there was a fair amount of shooting. I looked over to my right and standing 12 yards away was the biggest buck I had seen during riffle season. The buck was standing and starring directly at me. My heart began racing and I slowly started moving my riffle across my body to get a shot. After a 30 second stare down, the buck bolted into the corn. My heart sank and I was looking through the scope trying to find if/where he stopped. The buck ran 75 yards and I was able to put the scope on him with a small window between rows. I pulled the trigger and heard/saw nothing. Not wanting to mess up the rest of the morning hunt I patiently waiting not knowing if I hit/or missed the buck. After about an hour I got down and started walking through the corn in the direction of where I shot. Enter trophy 9.
Prior to this hunt, we had our second son, put our house up for sale and sold it in the same week. Needless to say we were in the process of looking for a new home and moving out of our old home. It was towards the end of riffle season and I was sitting in the two man stand. I was stalking homes for sale and emailing a potential seller on a house that we were interested in. I was doing everything except for focusing on hunting. I had been sitting for about 45 minutes and it was an hour before dark. Out of the woods popped a deer and it was walking down the field line in my direction. I got my gun ready and found that it was a 6 point. I waited until it was about 100 yards out and I dropped it. Enter trophy 10.