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Forest Lakes Newsletter
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| Hunter Experience! | What A Hunting Experience!
Late Muzzleloader Season 12-14-04 – 12-16-04
The day dawned crisp and cold. I was settled into the stand, a frozen pond about 30 yards to my right and a ridge off to my left. As the sun came up over the mountains in the distance, I began to wonder if I would see more deer than the previous day. My mind drifted back to the 9-point buck from the morning before, and questions arose as to whether or not he would come back with the three does.
Suddenly, there was a sound of something walking through the leaves on the other side of the small pond, and the air temperature in the mid-teens didn’t seem so cold. As I looked through the bare trees to my right, three does became visible, eating as they came down the hill toward the pond. One of them decided to get a drink of water and stepped out onto the ice covered pond. I nearly laughed out loud as her front hooves slipped out from under her, and her chin hit the ice. It didn’t break, and I was reminded of the cold. I watched as they fed around the pond and came past me on my right, going down the mountain. It was 7:20 AM, and I had been on stand for about 55 minutes.
I began to look around the woods and reflect on my trip so far. An eight hour drive had ended with my arrival at Forest Lakes Lodge outside of St. Charles, Kentucky, on Tuesday afternoon, December 14, 2004. Forest Lakes is 6,000 acres of land in western Kentucky between Hopkinsville and Madisonville. There are no public roads on the property. In addition to deer hunts, there are pheasants, ducks, quail, turkeys, and fishing. After arriving for the late muzzleloader season, one of the guides had taken me to a stand overlooking a clover field at about 3:00 PM. As I came up the hill and arrived at the edge of the field, a large doe ran from the field into some nearby woods. After waiting a few minutes, I walked the edge to the stand. About 3:30, a large doe entered the field from the left and fed across it, entering the hedgerow and the other clover field. As I sat in the stand, a large group of turkeys (25-30) flew into the small clover field. Later, I caught movement to my left. Three does came out followed by a very nice 6-point buck stepped out. I watched through my binoculars as he fed behind the does.
I rose Wednesday at 5:00 AM and noticed heavy frost on the windows of the lodge. I went into the large great room, carrying my clothes. After eating a light breakfast, I began to get dressed. A guide arrived and said that I had better have plenty of clothes because it was rather cold outside (6 degrees). I placed more clothing in my backpack, got the 50 cal. Thompson Renegade I had borrowed from my brother, and headed to the truck. The guide said that he had a hunch about stand #1 at the far end of the property. We wound through various roads on the property for a while until we came to an area beside the road of long green grass, briars, and sparse trees. I crossed the area (over 100 yards), climbed a few hundred yards to the top of a hill, walked the ridge line, and settled into the 15 foot ladder stand on a ridge. After the sun rose, I looked around and noticed 3 large cedar trees nearby with significant rubs on them. The trees were between 4-6 inches in diameter, and excitement began to settle into my mind.
At about 9 AM, I heard walking on the ridge in front of me. I looked through the trees and watched three does working along followed by a 9 pointer. The buck followed quickly over the ridge, but I could never get a shot. That afternoon I saw six different does at another stand, some feeding to within 30 feet.
This brings me back to where I started. I was in the stand at 6:25 AM on Thursday. The deer activity began at 7:20 and was quite regular. About 15 minutes after those first three does fed by me, I looked across the small pond and watched six more does feed around in the opposite direction. I decided to keep a count of the deer, and by 9:30 AM I had seen 27 deer.
I heard the crunch of leaves about 5 minutes later and watched three does come over the hill on the other side of the draw going straight into the draw. I strained to see behind where they had appeared when I caught the glint of the sun off of antler. My heart began to pound as I raised the binoculars to look. I was afraid the buck would go into the draw, and there would be a repeat of the day before.
The buck started toward the draw when he stopped and looked toward the flat area to my left. The wind had shifted and was blowing toward him at about 10 miles per hour. Since this was supposed to be the second rut and after observing the 9-pointer smelling a doe the day before, I had placed a Tink’s Scent Bomb on a tree limb about 30 yards to my left. The buck walked toward it, stopped, raised his head and curled his lip. I counted 8 points and could see that his rack was outside of his ears. He had a thick body, and I decided that I would shoot if he presented a good shot.
There was a tree between his left shoulder and me as he was standing quartered toward me. I watched him lower his head, looking intently in the direction of the scent bomb, and thought that I would need to be slow and careful in raising the rifle if he cleared the tree. Suddenly, he snapped his head up and seemed to look straight at me. I thought, “Just like on TV. Sure hope he doesn’t spook.” He stared for a moment, lowered his head, and snapped it right back up again. I didn’t even blink. He repeated his action a third time and then stomped his right foot twice before turning to walk toward the draw.
Just before getting to the draw, the buck turned slightly and began walking up the hill on my side of the draw. He was about 40-45 yards away and was quartering away toward the upper part of the draw. I raised the rifle and found his right shoulder in the scope. He continued walking, and the scope filled with deer. I grunted loudly with my mouth, and he stopped. I pulled the “set trigger” on the muzzleloader and moved my finger to the trigger. As I prepared to pull the trigger, he began to walk away again.
The rifle roared, and the 50 cal. round ball sped toward the deer. He hunched up, ran down into the draw, up the other side, and crossed the top of the hill as he went out of sight. As I began to breathe deeply of the crisp air, I reflected on the morning. He was the 31st deer of the day. What a great hunt! It was 9:45.
After about 30 minutes, I got down and walked to the spot where the buck had been when I shot. My heart sank in my chest – no blood on the ground! I knew that I hit him, but there was no blood anywhere. I began to search all around, even getting on my hands and knees, looking through the leaves and on the large rock that was behind the buck, but to no avail. I decided that the only course of action was to follow the scuffed leaves where he had run. He had gone down the mountain on the same path that I had climbed in the dark that morning.
Halfway down the path, I spotted blood with bubbles in it. I continued to find blood at regular intervals on down and out into the green area I had crossed in the dark. I began marking the blood trail but lost it about 30 yards into the tall grass. I called Anthony, the guide, on my cell. We fanned out and searched through the grass, trees, and briars for about an hour but to no avail. After eating lunch, we drove to an area that he had searched across the road from where I was hunting. As we approached the area, Anthony turned off the road onto a path leading into the woods. As we got out and began to walk through the hardwood forest, I moved down a hill toward a creek while Anthony walked higher up about 50 yards away.
We had been searching for about 40 minutes, and as I looked down, I was standing in a blood trail. It extended for about 25-30 yards toward him, and I said, “Anthony, I’ve got blood”. I looked to my right and said, “I’ve got fresh blood, and a good bit of it!” When he got to where I was, Anthony looked ahead a little way and said, “We’re going to find this deer.” I began to get more excited as we moved slowly through the woods toward the creek. After about 5 more minutes, Anthony hollered, “There he is!” I looked at where he was pointing and saw a large body and rack about 40 yards ahead. The buck had jumped from one creek bank to the other side, about 10 feet, and died there. We crossed the creek, and Anthony said, “He’s even bigger than you said. He’s a great deer!”
As I alternated between elation and thankfulness, I knelt down, stroked the deer, and thanked him for the hunt. He was a very thick-bodied deer and was beautiful. As we looked him over, we noticed that the blood had come out of the entry wound only because the 50 ca. ball had not exited. We were about 1400-1500 yards from where I had shot, and we began dragging him a few hundred yards through the woods toward the truck. Obviously, we stopped and rested several times in spite of the adrenaline pumping.
The inside spread on the rack is 17 inches, and the bases are 5 inches. Anthony estimated his age at about 4½ years old. Later, the taxidermist confirmed this based on the jawbones. The “dry score” is 130 and 2/8. His neck just under the chin is 25 inches and is 32 inches around at halfway down to the brisket.
This was an incredible experience for me. I’ve been hunting deer since the late 1960’s, and this is my best deer to date. But even more than that, I met wonderful people (Anthony was superb), saw a lot of game (55 deer total, ducks, pheasants, and 40-50 turkeys or more each afternoon in the fields), and I got to spend time in God’s beautiful creation. I am forever grateful to Roy Jeffcoat and his son, Kenny, along with the staff at Forest Lakes Lodge for this phenomenal experience!
Stephen Z. Hearne
January 2005
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