An Opening Day Like No Other

My truck was heading northwest across Wisconsin. Dome and I had gotten a late start on this Friday evening and we knew there would be little sleep when we finally reached our Buffalo County destination. Our hopes were high. I’d just spoken with my friend Glenn on my cell phone and he told me about the wide, mature buck he’d jumped earlier in the day as he snuck in to mark a tree for me in a new area we’d stayed out of during bow season. I often pick new bow spots in the pre-dawn darkness, but tomorrow was opening day of gun season meaning shooting ranges increase dramatically. Glenn graciously gave a quick scout of the area to ensure decent shooting lanes from an appropriate tree.

We rolled in to Lee’s farm at 1:30am, very scratchy-eyed and tired. My brother, John, who would be my cameraman this weekend, had already arrived and was waiting. A half hour later the popup camper was up and ready. We set the alarm and went to bed. Our hunting property was a half hour drive away, there were still stands to hang and gear to prep, so one, short hour later….”BEEP BEEP BEEP”….it was time to get going.

A foot of snow had fallen just over a week prior so the visibility would be good this morning with the blanket of snow still on the ground. John and I had no problem finding the glow-tacks Glenn had marked a potential tree with. Ten minutes and 5 climbing sticks later, I had our two Lone Wolf treestands in place and ready to await shooting light.

The sun began to rise behind a thick blanket of clouds and light gave shape to the rugged, wooded valley that gave this bluff country its name. “John, I see a buck.” I whispered as a year and a half old 7 point made its way down the valley and across in front of us. It wasn’t nearly of shooter caliber but it was nice to have our first action of the morning.

Ten minutes later, another yearling buck came by, this time much closer, but it would be our last deer activity for 4 hours. Shots rang out often in the distance of this opening morning but they weren’t pushing anything past us.

At 11am, I’d stood to whisper up to John about how cold I was starting to get, hoping to get the blood moving a bit.

“John, I hear something coming!” Noises along the ridge in front of me caught my ear. “I see a couple deer…the second one’s a good buck!”

I reached for and raised my rifle as I quickly sized up what looked to be a wide mature buck sporting four good tines up on his right side….a definite shooter.

“Are you on him John?” I anxiously whispered. The crosshairs were already on the base of the quartering buck’s neck and the safety was off.

“Hold on” John replied, still waiting for the camera to power on. The buck had chased a hot doe down the ridge and now stood alert on the old logging trail, ready to bolt after the doe again at any moment.

“John, he’s gonna run. I need to shoot him!” I was itching to pull the trigger but also itched to get a successful hunt on film.

“Okay, I’m on hi….”

“WHU-BOOOOOMMMMM!!!!!” I’d heard all I needed to hear from my brother.

“Nice shootin’ bud!” were John’s words as we both watched the buck crumple where it stood. In a matter of 15 seconds, it had all started and ended.

John and I climbed down to approach a beautiful, mature, 150-class 10 pointer. The 5 and a half year old buck was scarred, heavy, and dark. We high-fived and relived the events, then headed to the trucks for the 4-wheeler and still camera.

It was going on 12:30 as I made a few phone calls back at the truck, when our third hunter of our group, Shawn, approached with a smile on his face. Shawn had scored on a beautiful main frame 8 point with matching forked G2’s that we would later score at 147.5″ He’d killed it at 12:15 as it snuck back into the bedding area Shawn had been overlooking from his Lone Wolf climber. Two down, one to go.

Dome was still on stand as Shawn, John and I exchanged stories at the trucks. Buffalo County was an earn a buck unit this season. Shawn and I had each pre-qualified for our buck tags by killing does during bow season, but this was Dome’s first trip to Wisconsin, so he had to kill a doe before he could shoot a buck.

Five minutes later Dome strolls up and tells us about his morning. He had dropped his doe at 10:30 and had passed a 130 class 2 year old…all in all a pretty good morning on stand. Yet, upon hearing of my and Shawn’s success, Dome’s spirit’s dipped a tad saying, “Man, there’s no way all three of us are going to get one!”

We encouraged Dome to stay with his spot as we were targeting the three best spots on the ground and since Shawn and I had to get our bucks out of the woods yet, we figured him staying in the area he’d been all morning would be a good bet.

John, Shawn, and I headed out with the 4 wheeler to take some good still photos and more video of my buck as Dome set off for his afternoon/evening hunt. Dome said several of the deer he’d seen that morning had slipped through 80-100 yards away through thick cover so a quick stand re-adjustment was in order.

As Shawn, John and I took care of my buck down the valley, we heard several shots in the area. But the steep terrain made distance and direction determination of the shots difficult. I’d hoped maybe Dome had scored but it was tough to tell. A couple hours later with my buck loaded on the 4-wheeler and me and my permagrin walking closely behind, we headed back for the truck.

As we crested a hill in the field nearer the trucks, we saw Dome frantically motioning to come his way. He held his arms out wide. It was pretty obvious he was excited about something, and we couldn’t wait to find out!

“Dude I shot a GIANT! You’re not going to believe how big it is!” I believe were Dome’s words. John rolled camera as Dome explained how at 3:30, a giant mature buck made its way through the thick cover near his stand. He could tell he was tall and mature…at least 150+ but couldn’t see much more and really just focused on getting a shot once he knew it was a shooter. He’d followed the buck in his scope for nearly 50 yards before finally capitalizing on the buck’s momentary pause in a 6 inch opening. A single shot through the base of the neck dropped the buck in its tracks and sent Dome in a frantic hurry to get down his tree and go see.

What he saw as he approached the fallen slob, Dome admitted, brought him to tears…the good kind. It was a massive, mature non-typical with dark, heavy beams…7 inches at the bases and not losing much the whole way up. With 20 scorable points, Dome knew he’d just killed the buck of his lifetime.

As Dome took us over to where the monarch lay, the buck’s rack only got more impressive as we all got a closer look. For the next 15 minutes we simply held that buck’s rack and stared.

A couple hundred photos later, we grabbed the baseball-bat beams and drug him out of the woods. And we still had to go get Shawn’s buck and Dome’s doe out!

An hour later, as darkness fell and my pickup filled with the three trophies and one doe, we all looked at each other with smiles knowing we’d just had a day most guys only dream about.