Tuesday, October 23, 2007
My Hotspot Wasn’t So Hot Tonight
A great thing about deer hunting is it’s much like Michigan’s weather. If you don’t like it today, wait until tomorrow and it will probably change.
Tonight’s weather featured a cool snap with a temperature in the low 40s when I climbed into the stand. Over the year, bow hunters often play hunches, and sometimes they pay off and other times they don’t.
My brainstorm flopped tonight. The wind had been northwest, which was fine for my spot, and it was supposed to switch northwest which would be even better.
When it comes to weather forecasters, it’s hard to trust them. Instead of the wind going northwest as predicted, it went north. It’s not a good wind for my spot even though I was inside an elevated coop.
Three bucks came to me tonight, sneaking with the wind and skirting the cover edge. One was a big buck with light antlers in places, and other spots were darker from rubbing on trees and dragging his tines through his scrape.
There wasn’t a doe in sight, and these three buddies seem to have lost any love they once shared for each other, and it was a night of hard stares, ears flattened to the skull and all seemed as lost as I felt.
The bucks moved to me early, stayed out of range and seemed content to circle the little wood-lot where my stand was. It was obvious they were looking for does, and equally obvious they were looking for love in all the wrong places.
The smaller buck headed out for parts unknown after just a couple minutes of trying to be friends with the other two. Perhaps he was the smartest buck of the bunch.
The two bucks—one a big 8-point and the other a decent 10-pointer—acted like two adolescents who have been stood up on their first date. They milled around, shuffled their feet and once I thought the larger buck would move my way and into the open, but he seemed content to hang back in heavier cover.
The biggest buck apparently thought the departing buck may have known something he didn’t, and with two jumps was in full stride. The 8-pointer stayed with what appeared to be his only plan, and then came the unmistakable sound of a buck grunting in the distance.
The sound was moving toward this buck, and he seemed a bit fidgety because this critter was likely bigger than he was. He faded into the brush, disappeared and then a doe darted down the trail. A minute later a nice wide-racked buck came through the brush, scent trailing her from downwind.
His downwind path took him through heavy cover and out of my sight. He could be heard grunting for two or three minutes before the sounds faded away.
I stayed until the end of shooting time, and lowered my bow and walked out of the woods. Not a single deer snorted at me, and the open field was still light enough to see.
There wasn’t a deer in sight. Who knows, but perhaps tomorrow evening will be a hot time at the old hotspot. Tonight’s hunch didn’t pay off, but whatever my decision tomorrow may be, some deer will probably pass in front of me. And, for any bow hunter, we can’t ask for anything more.