Dave Beck

Before we slip too far away from 2024, I want to pass along a late season bow hunting story. I had bagged a buck during the muzzleloader season but I wanted to take a doe for the purpose of getting some venison summer sausage and some venison hot dogs made. Both are personal faves, plus they make great late Christmas gifts.  

With previous bow hunts I couldn’t tell exactly how many bucks walked by while I was patiently waiting in a tree stand for a shooter. Maybe “impatiently waiting” is a better way to put it. For reasons unknown to me, I just never seemed to have the right buck come into range. Buck after buck walked by and each one was sized up and then given a free pass. I have no complaints about the number of bucks I saw, I just never saw the right one. 

I was given plenty of time for free thinking with the amount of tree time I logged. I couldn’t help reflecting way, way back to when I was a young bow hunter. Old timers used to throw out a saying: “Once a spike, always a spike, and always shoot a spike.” That was a long time ago and in contrast, hunters today say: “You can’t shoot a big buck if you shoot a small one.” How times and views have changed.

All of this buck talk may seem a little off topic since I started out by telling you about my late season intention to harvest a doe, because that is exactly what I set out to do. Thankfully the night wasn’t too cold and the deer were still moving early. Well, a small yearling deer was moving early. It came out almost immediately after I got settled into the stand. Although it stayed in range for the longest time I passed on it, waiting for a bigger doe.

About a half hour later some movement caught my eye. Something just inside the tree line was coming my way and my instincts told me it was the adult doe that I had hoped would show up. I had plenty of time to size her up and to wait - not just for a good shot, but for a great shot. When that moment happened I was ready. To make this story a little shorter, it was indeed a great shot and it was all over in an instant. My big doe was on the ground and I felt pretty good about everything.

I walked up to the deer and right away knew that something was amiss. My big doe had male “plumbing” (if you know what I mean). I inspected a little more and there, a bit above the eyes and a little below the ears, were two bald spots. I had just shot a buck that had already dropped its horns.                  

After a season of trying for a buck, I had indeed bagged one. I’ll just never know how big his rack was.

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