This was the most comfortable year (in three years of hunting). Afternoon highs were in the 50's and close to 60. Mornings were 20's and 30's. The weeks previous to opening were cooler temperatures, and I was hopeful that the snow that was on the ground would last long enough. Deer sign was prevalent around the bait pile, even before baiting began. DNR reports were hinting at a robust deer harvest with last Winter's warmer temperatures; expectations were high. But the lack of a heavy snow cover also meant there was more food for the deer to eat.
Opening day came with a couple inches of snow still on the ground. A stream, running through the hunting property, still had a thin sheet of ice on it. But the intermittent bubbling of the flowing water close to the surface was foretelling the ice's doom. Soon.
Eager hunters at the Sure Shot Lodge were anticipating the big hunt tomorrow morning. Some had problems falling asleep with all the excitement (or not enough beer was consumed.)
At 9:30 am, two does came into my bait pile, followed shortly thereafter by a buck. What was a fork-horn at one time (I believe) showed as a 3-point, with one of the horns busted 4 inches above the scull. A clear shot was not easy to come by. The buck's shooing off the does for feeding was accompanied by the buck standing behind a snow-covered 3-foot pine. The tease! After awhile, all three deer meandered off.
For the next 30 minutes, I was mulling the shot I didn't take: "... should I have taken a shot? ...probably would have just been wounded...any candy bars left?... Oohhh, TWIX!!
At 10:00 am, a noise from my left about 200 yards out. I craned my neck and peaked out the blind, careful not to disturb the empty candy wrappers, slowly piling up at my feet. "Ooo!!," I mumbled. This was a bigger buck, waltzing towards me like nobody's business. Nice 8-point rack. My heart started pounding slightly. I got the shivers. "Patience" I mumbled. "Got the rifle in position. Safety off. Now just wait..."
Remember that 3-foot pine? Must be deer landmark, with a sign stating "Stop Here before you get yer rack shot off!". My shot was getting blocked again! I thought I had an opportunity for a neck shot, but didn't take one. Inexperience on my part... Next time I'll take one. I was waiting for the buck to turn or move or do something, and then it happened...<click here>
Off in the distance, on the long, winding trail, 'Mad Dog' was coming back for... (Now what should I pick on...) coffee? I don't have to mention that the 8-pointer suddenly looked at the approaching 3-wheeler, and the rider, and went expresso!! I put my head down, switched the rifle's safety back on, and set the gun down. I clambered out my blind, waited for Mad Dog to get to me. He then asked me: "Did you see the size of that big deer?"
In the world of hits and misses, this was a miss. No further action that weekend at my end of the world.
That next day, at 4:00pm, a buck came into Springer's area. According to Springer:
"I didn't know how big the rack was because he was behind a big doe, even though I had the scope on him. Then the doe moved out and the buck lifted his head. I started shaking so bad I had to put the gun down.
11-points!! I took a shot, he dropped. But he wasn't dead. I had to take another shot to finish him off.
When I was gutting him, a 6-pointer came in wondering what was going on. But, when he smelled the blood from the big monster he high-tailed it out of there! In 25 years of hunting, this is the biggest one ever, this one's going on the wall!
It took me 25 years to get some respect around here!!"
So, needless to say, the other hunters had to started addressing him as "Mr. Springer."