| Thanksgiving Deer Hunt 2002 | |
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Tuesday morning I tried to do a repeat of Monday's events, hoping that the doe (or any doe, since I wasn't allowed any more bucks) would show up for a repeat performance. I watched the same slope for a while but didn't see any movement, so I headed down the dim road further down the ridge. Not too long after that I saw movement on the opposite side of the valley, and it was a deer that had seen me and was running away. I put the scope on it and the deer stopped to look back at me, and I saw it was a doe. I hustled over to a small tree to use for a rest as she ran a little farther, but I lost her when she disappeared behind a couple of trees. So much for that! No one else saw a deer that morning.
After lunch on Tuesday Richard and I made a run to town, where I bought the necessary supplies to wrap my venison for freezing, and I spent the rest of the afternoon getting some of it boned out and packed. Dad didn't see anything in the brief time he hunted while we were gone, and Richard didn't bother to go to the woods that afternoon.
Wednesday morning I wandered the same slope I'd hunted the previous two mornings, and I didn't see a thing. This made Dad, Richard, and I even for the morning--none of us saw anything larger than a turkey. Around noon, Richard and Dad took Richard's ATV into town to be serviced.
That afternoon Dad jumped two deer but never got a chance to identify them as legal to take, so of course he didn't shoot. Neither Richard nor I saw a thing. We cooked up some backstrap out of my buck for supper, and it was the toughest venison I have ever tried to eat! It's a heck of a note, but I will have to grind or stew the backstrap before it will be fit to eat.
Thursday morning, Dad left us to head back home. I later learned that he saw three deer before he got to the gate, but didn't get a shot at any of them. Richard headed to his permanent stand, where he saw some more turkey gobblers, and I went to Ken's stand where I saw a group of eleven turkey hens... but we saw no deer.
That afternoon I finished up on cutting and packing my deer, then got a little time in the woods before dark, where I saw nothing other than Darrell (one of the landowners), and a cottontail rabbit which just about gave me a heart attack when he jumped and ran when I was about two feet away from him. Richard hunted a new area and returned to report that he had seen a rat and a bat, and that was it. Where the heck are all the deer hiding?
Friday was declared a goof-off day when we awoke to cold winds gusting up to thirty miles per hour. We did a few chores around camp, helped a neighbor stow a jet-ski in his garage to keep it from freezing that night, and headed to the on-site shooting range.
Richard had bought a muzzleloading barrel for his old Mossberg Model 500 12-gauge shotgun, so we sighted that in. It shoots sabots very well, which I'm sure it was intended to do. It's really an excellent idea, and I would love to create and manufacture something similar for other popular shotguns, such as the Remington 870. As far as I know, Mossberg is the only company currently making anything like it. It simply replaces the shotgun's barrel, and includes a whippy ramrod that stows partially in the magazine tube. Ignition is via a 209 shotgun primer, which is perfect for that gun, though it's a bit tough to place the primer in it after loading.
Then I dragged out my H&R Ultra Varmint in .223 Rem., which I procured from my good buddy Gonzo. I'd bought a couple of boxes of cheap ammo for it at Wal-Mart, and it shot pretty well, especially considering the crappy scope we were using. They may not be the most practical cartridges in the world, but .22-caliber centerfires sure are fun to shoot!
After lunch we tore down the old Mossberg for a super-cleaning. We even fought the old wood forearm off of the pump, the first time it's been removed in at least thirty-eight years. The old scattergun loved the cleaning we gave it, and I enjoyed it, too. I love to see an old gun treated well, for some reason it just tickles me deep down. What can I say? I just love guns.
Around 5:00, I headed to a stand Jim (another of the landowners) had offered, and I sat there in the bitter wind until dark, about forty-five minutes' worth of hunting. I managed to see a squirrel or two, but that was it. Around 9:00 that evening, Ashley (another of the landowners) arrived to hunt. Hopefully the morning--which is supposed to be another frozen one--will see a change of luck for us. So far, Richard hasn't even seen a deer on this trip, and it's about time he got one (or two)!
