February 1, 2010
The Roller Coaster
While in Albany, Georgia, one of my jobs was game warden at the Marine Corps Logistics Base and as such I used that position to learn the lay of the land and secrets of nature that the area had to offer.
This Georgia military base housed a herd of Whitetail deer that rivaled any I’d seen anywhere else, not so much in numbers, but in body size. The base, because of its size and close proximity to inhabitants is a”bow only” hunting area; no other types of firearms are allowed at all.
On one of my few days off, I decided to hunt one of the more remote areas of the base. After signing in to hunt in that particular area, I started down the dirt road just inside the perimeter fence, in my trusty F150.
As I approached the very spot that I selected to hunt, I caught sight of a big beautiful rack sticking out of the brush within seven feet of the edge of the road on which I am traveling. I slammed on the brakes, small rocks and dust fly everywhere, and I open the truck door, leaving it ajar to pull my bow from the bed of the truck.
Nocking an arrow as I reached the tailgate of the truck the dust settles and much to my astonishment, there the buck still stands. As I gazed in disbelief, the big buck seemed to be otherwise engaged and just stood there staring off over his shoulder into the distance.
I drew the string to my lips, stared a hole through his chest, said a short prayer and released the arrow. With recall of frame by frame I watched as the arrow hit its mark and penetrated to where only the fletching was visible.
Upon the arrow’s impact the buck awakened from his trance, wheeled and with one glorious leap, left my field of vision. Moments later, 2 dogs appeared in the brush, which had evidently frozen the buck.
After the adrenaline slowed, my heart calmed and I caught my breath, I ran through the entire experience one more time. The shot was what I saw as perfect; a quartering shot, 4 inches of shaft showing just behind the front shoulder and half way up the chest. So where then was my trophy?
I searched the immediate area with a fine tooth comb and found two small spots of blood. I did circle searches in ten foot increments from the point of impact. For five and a half hours I looked for that deer to no avail. Knowing that darkness would be upon me in a short while I made the decision to get my hunting buddies to help find my buck.
After looking at the terrain on a map of the area, we determined that there were only two main trails allowing easy access to the big woods that would accommodate the wounded buck.
So each of my companions took a trail and waited for me to jump the buck up as I searched the area for him. Allowing 15 minutes for them to take their appointed positions, I began my search.
Standing where I shot the buck, I canvassed the area looking for any likely hiding spot which would offer cover for a severely wounded animal. Suddenly, like a light bulb turning on, I could see a stand of 30 or so pine trees, 10 feet tall some 150 yards across the field.
Moving briskly across the field, I stepped into the edge of the pines. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light within, I watched as my monster buck, startled, rose to his feet and stumbled through the trees just ahead of me.
My heart racing, I drew my hunting knife from its sheath and gave chase, giving absolutely no thought to what would happen if I actually caught him. As we cleared the pines and neared the fork in the trails, the buck, realizing that the distance between us was closing, turned to defend his position.
In utter shock, I immediately took shelter behind the nearest tree to create a barrier between the enraged buck and myself. Gasping for breath, the weakening buck lunged at me, impacting with the 10 inch oak.
The sound of the collision was deafening as I dropped the knife and clinched my fists one to each antler and attempted to hold the deer’s head to the tree.
The raw power was amazing, almost supernatural, as the muscular neck swiftly raised and lowered my 175 pound frame, like a rag doll, on the tree’s trunk. Antlers shifting from side to side, I held on for dear life, and called for help from my “hunting buds”.
Hearing the commotion and viewing my dual from their positions on trail some 60 yards away, they came running to my aid. Out of breath, they stopped in the area considered to be danger close.
Here one of them nocked an arrow, came to full draw and released, only to watch its flight pass below the chest and harmlessly impale mother earth.
With muscles in my hands, arms and back burning from fatigue, the great buck made one last thrust using his “hulk like” neck to hoist me up the tree and expired, motionless at the base of the tree.
The massive whitetail checked in at a dress weight of 197, had a 9 point frame with a 27 inch inside spread. The black and white photo can be seen at the top of this article. All in all it was a memorable hunt of the one that, after 6 hours of plotting and tracking, didn’t get away.
From that extreme experience, I can honestly say that roller coasters and/or carousels will never offer the ride I took that day (though they would be much safer).
ELKII
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