Claude Pollington the Whitetail Wizard
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Memories of Whitetail Spots
Fishermen are commonly known for “fishing memories,” or going back time after time to the same old spot. Sometimes it works on deer, and sometime it doesn’t, but memories often remain long after the size of the rack and the venison has disappeared. Much the same thing occurs with hunters. We all develop a feeling for certain ground blinds or tree stands, and often this can be good. In many cases, if a particular stand was once good, it may still be good.
For about three years my son Matt and outdoor writer Dave Richey took turns hunting the same tree. It probably produced a dozen nice bucks for them, and then it seemed to go dead. They didn’t hunt it daily, and it may only have been hunted twice per week. Matt took a few nice 8-pointers out of it, as did Dave, and they still talk fondly about hunting that tree. However, as I make my rounds to study deer behavior and travel routes, it has become obvious that deer had quit moving past that tree. I’ve got many memories of favorite tree stands, and those thoughts often are built around having taken a really good buck from it or having seen a wide-racked buck nearby. In some cases, a new stand may reveal a great travel corridor than has been overlooked. One stand sticks out because I had seen a heavy beamed 10-pointer there, and I noted the time he passed by. I was there the next night but he wasn’t, and several deer were passed up because I didn’t want to shoot a lesser buck if the big one may be nearby. I went back to that stand periodically, and saw that buck on three occasions but he was either screened by heavy brush or just too far away.
And this brings up a point: every bow hunter should know what the maximum range is for them to make an accurate shot. Shooting at a buck too far away usually results in a miss but a deer that is spooked by an irresponsible shot may never return. Even worse, a bad hit may be made, and that may result in a long tracking job and even then, the animal may never be found. Sportsmen must know their limitations, and strive not to exceed them. Years ago one of my favorite tree stands was in a tree I called the Posturepedic. If a hunters back didn’t hurt when they climbed in, it would be hurting when they climbed down. That stand, 30 years ago, was positioned between a bedding area and nearby fields, and it produced quite a few bucks back but is no longer being hunted. Those who hunted the Posturepedic stand usually did so just once. It wasn’t a comfortable stand, but it produced some big bucks for me.
Another of my favorite locations was in a dead elm, and it was located 15 yards from a hole in a fence between my land and a neighbors, and was positioned for a broadside shot once the deer came through. Many people do not realize that given the chance, a deer would prefer going through a hole in the fence rather jumping the wire. The last time I came down out from that fence-hole stand I felt the tree shudder. I kept going and made it to the ground. The next day I drove down a wooded trail past that tree, and it was laying on the ground.
Hunting memories, my phrase for going back to tree stands that once produced shots at whitetail bucks, is something that hunters do. Some of it is nostalgia, and some is to determine if that area is as good as it once was. These memories are good for hunters. It helps us remember a stand that once led to the arrowing a trophy buck, or a memorable miss, or a stand that just makes us feel good. I’m willing to bet that all of us have such memories. A little thought can make them reappear on demand, and part of hunting’s thrill is traveling down the back roads of our memories.
