LUCKY SEVEN
You know, sometimes white tail deer hunting is a roll of the dice. On Friday, the day before opening day of the Tennessee rifle season, I was dealt a hand I didn't think I could win with.
My hunting buddy, Jimmy Robbins, the manufacturer of Revolution 3-D scent products, called with bad news. Forty boy scouts with tents and campfires were in the middle of the farm. We would have to find another spot on the farm to hunt the next morning. That left no time to scout that part of the farm to see if any big bucks were working the area around our stands. After some discussion, I decided to hunt a tripod stand that overlooked a small grassy field.
The next morning I made my way to the tripod before the sun came up. After getting settled in, I kicked back for the short wait. The tripod stand overlooked a narrow grassy field between two sections of hardwoods. The field was used for cows and the grass was about knee high.
Just after the sun came up around 6:20, a small buck showed up. He walked out of the woods in front of me at about 100 yards. He made his way to the middle of the field, rubbed a small sapling and licked an overhanging limb. At 7:30, a doe and a fawn showed up. At 7:45 five more does then made their way across the field and out of sight. At 8:10 a nice 2 1/2 year old eight point showed up. He was good but not good enough.
At 8:20, I looked to my left and saw a buck at around 220 yards crossing the narrow end of the field. I quickly looked at him through my binoculars. I could tell he was a shooter, very wide and tall. I picked up my rifle and found the buck in the crosshairs. He was moving pretty fast and I didn't want to shoot at him while he was moving at that range. So, I yelled at him to get him to stop, "Hey!" This had no affect on him. Therefore, I yelled again, "Hey!" Still no affect. The third time I yelled as loud as I could. This time he slammed on the brakes, just 20 yards short of the woods. I aimed a little high in the shoulder and sent the 165 grain 30-06 bullet on its way.
The buck jumped and kicked its back legs high in the air, then took off like a racehorse. He was gone just as fast as he appeared. After about 20 minutes and a short prayer, I crawled out of the tripod stand and made my way to where the buck was standing when I shot. There on the golden grass I found bright red blood. I followed the blood 20 yards to the woods and squatted down to look under the low hanging limbs and there 30 yards away lay my buck. When I shot him I thought he was a big eight point. He turned out to be a 3 1/2 year old 200-pound buck. He was not an eight point, he was a lucky seven. --Mark Elkin, Cypress Creek Outdoors Pro Staff
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