Gunn Road "Backache Buck" – 2006

This deer was meant to hang on my wall. My hunt was unplanned, on poorly scouted property, and on a day with no spare time after 9:00AM. The only reason I went out at all was that I couldn’t sleep.

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving was a “prepare the house – guests are coming” day for my wife and I. As we worked, the discussion came around to the holiday calendar, and who would be doing what, when. It seemed that “Shopping Friday” would be my free day to go hunting, so the mood brought on by household drudgery was lightened considerably by thoughts of a whole day tramping the woods with my bow in hand. Somewhere during the furniture shuffle, decoration unpacking, or Christmas light untangling; I developed a hitch in my back. By bedtime I was unable to lie down without being in substantial pain – so I didn’t lie down. I sat up - - and sat up - - and sat up. At 3AM, I got onto the ASC website to see what properties were available for Friday. I booked the 22 acre Gunn Road property, which is only fifteen minutes from my house. It is a bow-only property, and most deer hunters were using firearms this week, so it was available for several days. As I sat there and contemplated what Friday would be like with no sleep tonight and guests to entertain from mid-afternoon until late evening, I came to the conclusion that I had better get in a morning hunt now. No doubt Friday would find me in the sack, catching up on sleep. I changed the reservation to 11/23/2006, and loaded my pack with a few necessities – calls, scents, rattle bag, kleenex, range finder, knife, a couple apples, and some rope. I loaded the van with my Scent loc camo suit, waders, boots, blaze orange hat (required during gun season), and my trusty Hoyt Spectra Eclipse (an ancient compound bow).

By the time I was ready to go, the Advil had taken the edge off my back pain, but it was too late to go to bed now. So I headed for the property. I had not been on this unit for several weeks so I waited for the sky to lighten somewhat before I slipped on the waders and eased down to the stream. The best way to get to the northeast part of this place was to wade the stream up to a cattail swale, and find a spot to ambush deer crossing into the thick bedding areas. I had gotten a trail-cam picture of a monster buck in this area, so it is an exciting spot to hunt.

The majority of the wading would be along the back yards of homes that bordered the east side of the property, but the deer movement was usually good near these houses. This morning was no exception – at first light, a doe crossed the stream twenty yards from me and stopped to browse on the bank. When she finally wandered off, another doe was making her way through the lawns toward the stream. By now there was good light in the yards, but still fairly dark under the trees. I watched her cross the water and bound off into the cover, and when I turned back to the yard, a nice buck was all the way to the trees near the stream. Even in the dark under the trees, I could tell at a glance that he was a shooter, so I didn’t try to count points – just hoped he was the buck from the picture. He was on the trail of the doe, but in no hurry. I waited for him to cross, but he seemed hesitant and looked back toward the house several times. Finally, he stepped into the stream and took a drink. As he jumped onto the bank, I drew. He turned toward me, shrinking the amount of vital target considerably. I waited for his next move, but he just stood there looking back toward the house. My arm was starting to tire, so I decided to shoot. Relax, concentrate, breath, center the cross-hairs, squeeze the release trigger. The arrow flew too far left, and hit him in the shoulder, but he went down immediately. He started to struggle to get back up, so I put another arrow through his heart/lung area. That finished him, and the adrenalin rush nearly finished me. With no sleep, dosed with Advil, chilled from standing in icy water, and pumped from downing a good buck, I almost fell into the stream while trying to rush up the bank to see if this was the booner we had on film.

The pictures tell the tale – although much smaller than the trail-cam buck, I’m not complaining. He would be the number fifty buck I’ve taken in Michigan, and number twenty-five Pope & Young qualified buck – a sort of milestone deer. Depending on the amount of shrinkage during the sixty-day drying period, he should rank in the top ten or twelve of my Michigan bucks. He would also be the fourth buck in the last three seasons that I’ve taken on club property.