OnStand : The Sportsman's Watchdog

Hunters: Ron Richards-in the beard, Larry and his grandson Luke

Deer Season: Regular Rifle

Location: Western Nebraska

Method: Stand hunting

License Requirements: Resident: $28.00, Conservation Stamp $13.00; Non-Resident: (Regular Rifle) $178.00, Conservation Stamp $13.00

Weaponry/Gear: Rifle – Marlin Model 336 30-30; Scope – Tasco 4×40; Ammo – Hornaday LeveRevolution 160 gr. (An awesome load)

Guide: None used.

Agency Contact:
Nebraska Game & Parks Department
2200 N. 33rd Street
Lincoln, Nebraska 68503
(402) 471-0641
http://www.ngpc.state.ne.us/

The Tale:

Deer Camp for our group, like many others, is a special place with special people. Two of our group have hunted deer together since the 1960’s. We’re all “shirttail cousins” and, more importantly, “brothers” when it comes to deer camp.

The Camp Elders have all seen their sons kill their first deer out of our camp and now the torch has been passed to grandsons.

We are doubly fortunate in that a relative owns the ground where we hunt and that land borders a state WMA so we have access to thousands of acres of prime whitetail and mule deer country.

We have an old mobile home in a pasture allowing the luxury of a warm bed, a place to cook and other amenities not normally associated with roughing it. As I get older, those “other amenities” have taken on even more importance.

Some really nice deer have been taken by our camp members but this isn’t a tale about big whitetails or monster mulies. It’s just a story about some nice deer being taken on a fine day in November.

By Friday afternoon before the opener everyone was in camp. My brother’s grandson discovered he would be sitting by himself this year and would be accompanied only by a new .270. He was thrilled and nervous. Who wouldn’t be?

That evening the BS session got rolling and I announced that this season I was not passing a buck to wait for The Big Boy. I’ve passed many small bucks in years past and gone home meatless but I wanted some venison this winter. My brother felt the same way.

We got around to deciding who was going to sit where and my brother’s grandson was given first choice in honor of his being the newest member of the fraternity.

We have two “gimme” locations on the property and he chose the one best suited for his rifle. “The Bluff” overlooks a nice piece of bottom ground. Every visible deer is in range out to roughly 280 yards.

The rest of us took those stands where we normally sit… except me. I had found a new spot while spring turkey hunting and decided to give it a try.

I had my popup blind in place Friday afternoon and borrowed a range finder to mark some distances. To one side was winter wheat bordering a creek. To the other was a dry creek bottom over which I could shoot and still be within range for my 30-30.

The only drawback to my new stand was its close proximity to the trailer. Only 150 yards distant, the in-and-out and back-and-forth associated with getting 8 hunters situated – by way of 3 pickup trucks – might prove too much activity on opening day.

I got settled in to my blind that morning and looked at the trail coming up from camp. Two does were staring back at me. So much for the “drawback”.

Thirty minutes after shooting light I heard a shot I thought might be big brother’s grandson. Thirty minutes later I saw big brother’s pickup on the horizon heading back towards camp. I thought, “Hmm? The grandson must have scored and he’s coming back to help him out… good deal.”

This thought was still fresh in my mind when a whitetail doe and small buck tore through the dry creek in front of me. They never missed a step as they dashed through the opening and kept going. I was just getting ready to break cover to get a different vantage point when a gorgeous 5×5 whitetail appeared behind them.

He stopped dead center in the opening!

Then he turned up the hill and stared at my blind.

I pulled up on him, squared the scope on his chest, fired—and missed. Completely missed!

The buck just stood there trying to figure out where the noise had come from while I levered in a new round. He turned broadside and, just as he started his leap to freedom, I fired and caught him high, breaking his spine and killing him almost instantly.

I sat and collected my thoughts and my gear for the task to come. As I walked down to my buck I heard my brother’s pickup pulling up to the trailer. I gave him a holler to come over and pick up my deer, it was that close.

As I was field dressing my buck, my brother related his story.

A nice 4×4 whitetail had come trotting straight at his blind right at shooting light. He watched him to 40 yards and then put a bullet right through his heart. He field dressed the buck and then came back to camp to get help dragging it out. His was the shot I had heard earlier.

We loaded my deer in his pickup and headed down to load his deer, too. As we were going across a pond dam we could see the bluff where his grandson was sitting. We saw two whitetail doe run by the boy and toward the creek. Then, BOOM, his .270 ripped off a single round and two whitetail doe came running back from the creek and right under his stand again.

We got to the top of the hill above him and saw him walking up towards the trail. We drove down to pick him up and the conversation went something like this:

“I got her!”

“Huh, you got what?”

“That doe, down by the creek.”

“Oh. You sure?”

“Well, I think so. She ran back into the brush but I’m sure I got her.”

My brother and I exchanged glances that said a lot.

As it turned out they were needless glances. The mulie doe was laying about 10 feet from the edge of the wheat field. His shot from the .270 had taken out both lungs and the heart.

Later that day we ranged the shot at 262 yards. Mighty fine shooting!

That’s my tale.

P.S. Later that day my nephew took a nice 4×4 whitetail and another member of our camp shot a true wallhanger – a 7×6 whitetail with a nice drop tine.

Maybe his story will show up here next…