If Sam and I were ever going to shoot a deer together at his age, I knew we would need a pretty dumb deer to walk by. Maybe one like a yearling buck experiencing a surge of testosterone that clouded his ability to sense danger from the dynamic father and son duo perched above him. On the evening of November 7th, we had a meeting with just such a buck.
As much as I’d dreamed of joining the coveted 200 pound buck club, I’m not sure I can say with confidence that I thought I’d ever be fortunate enough to become a member. I have intentionally hunted areas in Vermont and New Hampshire that have the potential to produce that caliber of a buck but hadn’t had any luck to date. This can be blamed on many factors, with myself being the biggest one of all. That all changed on opening day of the 2017 Vermont rifle season.
Not much sleep was had the night before the 2017 New Hampshire Muzzleloader season opened. Excitement over what the morning hunt would bring, coupled with Oliver’s continued desire to hold fast to a different sleep schedule than normal humans, made it difficult to roll out of bed. To top it off, I still couldn’t shake the deep-rooted congestion that had taken up residence in my respiratory system. A weaker individual would have stayed home, but not this guy.
I have more trail camera pictures of bucks this year than I ever have before. Perhaps it’s an above average year, or perhaps I stumbled onto an area where the bucks have always been. Either way, I know where I’ll be on opening day of muzzleloader season in New Hampshire this Saturday.
I stumbled onto this area last year but didn’t place any cameras for fear they would get stolen. I spent a lot of time there last fall, and although I never saw a buck, my intuition kept telling me I was in the right spot. I’ve fallen for my intuition before, but this year my curiosity overruled my caution and I set up three cameras, each about 200 yards apart. My reward was lots of great pictures and new information that instilled enough confidence in me that I know I should continue hunting this area.
A lot has transpired since my last update, some of it even related to hunting. Each summer I enter each fall dreaming of hunting day in and day out until shooting Mr. Big. At this point in the season, I’d settle for being able to sleep long enough to dream. The arrival of Oliver Jacob Biebel late last week has derailed my hunting and sleeping schedule, but I’m not complaining.