A friend of mine recently emailed me a picture of a really nice whitetail buck her brother shot in Ohio a couple of weeks ago (picture on the left). I thought it would be fun to share the story of his buck on my blog, especially since whitetail hunting is not on my usual list of hunts (except for this year - KS here I come!)
The "Buck Lung Punch" as told by Scott Wagers
"In Ohio, our bow season starts the last week of September and ends on the first Sunday in February. My family and I are BIG into hunting, so that always means after Spring turkey season it's time to get ready for deer season. This consists of hanging a ton of tree stands, tending to food plots, digging watering holes, setting up our trail cameras, and having endless target practice.
My family just so happens to own property in one of the top three counties where there are the most deer harvested each season because the deer population in those three counties is so high. The county where we live as a whole is an ideal habitat for deer. Outside of our property, I also hunt other landowners' properties as well as public land to control crop damage, in addition to changing up the scenery of the hunt and making it a challenge. (When I hunt outside our place, I always hunt with a very simple setup: a summit climber, a hand-me-down Hoyt MagnaTech compound, True Glow Sight Mayhem arrows with G5 Montech broadheads, and a True Fire wrist release.)
On Sunday, October 2, my brother and I decided to hunt a new property that we've never been on before which we got permission in the Spring to hunt on. I hunted the whole morning without success. I had deer all over me, but none that I could go for -- does walking under me before legal shooting light, small bucks, and an encounter with a 4.5 year-old buck at 80 yards. While eating lunch, I slipped down from my climber and did a walk-around of my area. I found intersecting trails around massive ancient white oak trees with trees rubbed every six feet. By the size of the rubs, there were mature bucks in the area. So, I moved tree stand locations and waited for what seemed like forever. I was praying for one of those does to come back to the bedding area so I could smash 'er.
The rain storm that the weatherman predicted was very close by the way the clouds grew dark. The temperature drastically dropped, and it started to rain. It was about 5:00 PM. I mentally prepared myself to sit through the rain and wait for the stereotypical situation: deer moving at last light. Then, there he was -- the sleepy, slit-eyed, 3 1/2 - 4 1/2 coming straight on a line right on the trail in front of me. I barely had time to stand up, turn around, and get into position in order to shoot him on my right side. As he approached the 30 yard mark, I tried to stop him with a verbal bleat. No such luck. I was at full draw, looking through my peep sight. I yelled, "Hey!" and squeezed my release. In slow motion, the brute locked up and turned his torso. With his eyes staring into mine, the broad head sliced through his right side lung. He dropped to the ground. Full of excitement, I scaled down the tree. He wasn't going anywhere, but he was still alive. I landed another lung cavity shot. Victory!
With mixed emotions I knelt down looking the animal over, admiring his sheer body size and the crown of antlers on his head. He was a 10-point, with a spread of 146 inches. A sense of accomplishment and gratitude overcame me, followed quickly by the thought that I had just filled my one buck tag on the first week of bow season. How insane and unplanned that was! The pressure to produce is now off. I can enjoy my doe tags and giving my wife a better opportunity to get her own mammoth deer."
Congrats, Scott! Enjoy the rest of your season. And good luck on filling your doe tags. I also hope to see pics of your wife's buck in the near future!
