Setting bottom of a sharp drop off 30 foot ridge, behind a thicket bedding area, about 30 yards to a shallow stagnant stream, backed up by soft edge of cedars.
Worked ALL weekend and was like a caged animal, planned an all day sit for Monday, 11/11. Field & Streams annual Best Days of The Rut was calling it the best day of the year to hunt. I pulled in to my spot and of course, right off the bat, there's a 110-115" 8 standing in the yard. I'm thinkin', "great.." The owners told me about a nice 8 running around and I just bumped him while I was still in my long johns.
Get back to my spot and wind seems to be blowing in BOTH directions. Back of my neck, and my face. I see one small doe and that's it. At 11 I start thinking about the hot water I'm in at home for working all weekend then leaving the house again at 5 am. I call it. Going home to get some painting done.
It's frustrating enough to hunt hoping there's a nice buck nearby. It's quite another to KNOW ones within 200-300 yards of you. I can't take it, I got the fever. Painting done at 1. Clothes washed. Shower. Pick up the gall-dang "veggie tray" at the grocery store my wife was complaining she didn't have time to get. Fly back down to my spot.
Been toying with clothes smoking and figure this is the spot to try it, swirling winds and all. Back on stand by 2:30.
About 4, I see a buck coming directly behind me, "that him????", heart pumping...."no..." Small 6. Now the wind picks up, about 30MPH gust right in my face off the ridge. Now I'm thinking, they have to be coming back here to get away from this wind. About 4:30, another buck, I catch a glimpse of a main beam and figure its him. He's coming right behind me. I stare forward and come to full draw. He gets out front and I see its an 8, but not the big one I saw in the morning.
Now it all starts going through my head, back of a bedding area, rut bottle neck, winds out front, cold front that night, Field & Stream, 11/11... I just KNEW he would be coming through. Getting dark, I keep peeking around the tree behind me, then I see it. A little tail wiggle. I make out a WIDE frame. IT'S ON! I'm below the trail he's on, winds in my face. Only thing that can bust me is movement. He comes broadside at 17 yards.
Slick trick smashed him and stuck about 2 inches into a log on the other side of him. He dared 20 yards and stopped. Wobbled. Down. He lay 40 yards from my stand.
Don't know if hell make 120", but I'm darn pleased with it. Sorry for the hot air.
