His brows had grown considerably, his bases began to palmate, and most noticeably, two clubs began growing downward from his main beams. Not surprisingly, he was once again hanging with the same buck that I had seen him with through most of the Spring. At that point, two thoughts came into my mind. The first was that I would dedicate the rest of my scouting and 2010-2011 archery season to that buck. The second thought, after seeing the bladed browtines, a similar frame, and split G2, was that this was the same buck that I had observed on two occasions the previous year.
As the month of July progressed, the double droptine buck was highly visible. He rarely frequented agricultural fields; instead he preferred tall grasses, edge habitat, and clearings. It seemed like every time I went out, I was seeing the buck. I mostly observed from a distance of greater than 200 yards, and I chose not to set up a trail camera. My strategy was to observe this buck as much as possible in the evening hours, in hopes of getting a good idea of what this buck did while he was up on his feet. The more familiar I was with this buck, the better my chances of getting a crack at him. By this point, he had far outgrown his friends. I was in this buck’s head, guessing his next moves and slight change of patterns, and I saw him practically every time I went out and scouted down at the farm.
After the night of August 8, however, I found myself in a predicament once again. I couldn’t find the buck I was after and I was growing increasingly frustrated. When September rolled around, the bucks in the area were shedding their velvet as summer nights got shorter and shorter. I figured the big one could have been fattening up in some agricultural fields or hanging tight to cover. I kept looking and looking, right up to the evening before opening day. This is where the buck made the biggest mistake of his life. As I carefully walked out to an area that I glassed throughout most of the summer with my girlfriend in hand, I looked down the clearing to see a beast of a buck with two unmistakable droptines exit out of cover and cross a clearing.
Everything had fallen into place. I knew where I would be opening evening. I planned to back off the buck, and let him leave his cover safely and walk across to me on the other side of the clearing, just as he did the evening before the opener.
As I walked to my stand, I had never felt so confident about a set-up in my entire life. I remember looking down at the spot where the buck had walked the night before, not more than 10 yards away from the base of my tree.
I felt as if an encounter was inevitable. Almost immediately, deer started filing by. Some passed through the clearing, some passed through the hardwoods, and many exited from the cover which the big buck exited from the previous evening. I probably saw 30 or so deer by sunset, but the buck I was after had not shown up.
Not yet.
> Continued P20