Deer Hunting Report - 2008

[HRPuffinStuff-cr]

Deer Hunting Report - 2008

Wisconsin is divided into approximately 100 discrete deer management units (DMUs) for purposes of managing the whitetail deer herd. This allows the Department of Natural Resources to tailor the management needs of the individual units based upon agricultural crop damage, forest crop damage, car / deer collisions and so forth. The deer hunter is issued one deer permit (i.e. “carcass tag” or simply “tag”) for a buck deer (having an antler length of 3” or greater) in any DMU statewide, and one deer permit for an antlerless deer (doe or buck having an antler length of 3” or less) in specified Herd Reduction units (primarily agricultural units).

I find the Herd Reduction unit tag essentially worthless, because I do not care to hunt agricultural land. In addition to these permits, however, a limited number of antlerless tags are issued for National Forest DMUs, such as where my hunting cabin is located. I was fortunate enough to draw an antlerless tag for National Forest DMU 49A (where my hunting cabin is located), and National Forest DMU 44 (approximately 10 miles west of my hunting cabin).

Thus suitably festooned with deer permits and bristling with artillery, I headed up to the cabin on Friday, November 21st, 2008.

Saturday, November 22nd I awoke at 3:00AM and hastily prepared a huge bowl of oatmeal and brewed a pot of strong coffee. A thermos was filled and I packed some of the giant home-made oatmeal raisin cookies my girlfriend had graciously provided into the pocket of my hunting jacket. I piled into the CJ and drove the ten miles or so to the Northfork – Chickadee Wilderness gate and headed off into the woods on foot.

I took up a stand in the inky pre-dawn darkness on a north-south running ridge, facing south, overlooking a small dry creek bed. It was 5:15AM. It was unseasonably cold, approximately 5 degrees. There was no snow cover, and the leaves were frozen solid and shattered under foot, like walking on a field of potato chips. It would be impossible for the hunter or the prey to move through the forest without being detected. Essentially ideal hunting conditions.

At 7:00AM I heard the distinct and heavy footfalls of a number of approaching deer. I observed a group of three deer moving through the heavy cover approximately 75 yards to my right, moving from south to north at a fast trot. I clutched the .35 Whelen in anticipation and silently slipped off the safety. I caught periodic glimpses of the deer through the riflescope, but a clear shot was not offered. I could not make out the sex or the size of the deer. I returned the safety to the safety position, leaned the rifle up against a tree, and attempted to thaw my frozen fingers.

At 7:05AM I once again heard the heavy footfalls, this time, the same group of three deer moving from northwest to southeast, approximately 40 yards to my right. In the lead was an immense, mature doe, trailed by a yearling, followed by an eager six-point buck. Once again, the deer were moving through heavy cover, at a fast trot, obviously engaging in rutting / chasing behavior. I could not get a shot.

Miraculously, the deer trotted past me AGAIN, this time moving from southeast to northwest. The big doe broke off the pursuit and the buck chased after the yearling. The doe ran directly towards me, then quartered ever-so-slightly to the left, standing there at 15 yards under some low pines. I have no conscience memory of finding the deer in the riflescope or pulling the trigger, but suddenly the .35 Whelen shattered the morning silence. The bullet entered the front left shoulder and exited between the ribs on the right side. The deer ran directly away from me. Bending over at the waist, peering under the low pines, I saw a flash of white and the resounding “ka-whomp” of a deer piling up in the woods.

At that instant, the buck appeared broadside, 15 yards to the south. I had not even ejected the cartridge from the round used to take the doe yet. When I did eject the spent cartridge, the buck spooked and ran down into the dry creek bed and was seen standing on the opposite hillside, approximately 50 yards away. I put the riflescope crosshairs right on the chest.

At that moment, I had a decision to make. I had already shot the doe, believed I had made a good shot, and believed I had her down not more than 25 yards away. My first responsibility was to that deer, and it was just not appropriate for me to go blasting away at another deer when I had a deer down that I had not yet recovered. Besides, how was I going to drag TWO DEER the two miles back to the truck? Tag the doe and leave her there, drag out the buck and return for the doe? What if someone came by, cut my tag off, put theirs on, and dragged out my deer?

No. I was not going to shoot a second deer that morning. I lowered the rifle and put the safety in the safety position. The buck slowly headed into the woods to the south. I gathered up my pack and headed towards where I believed the doe had fallen.

She was a magnificent specimen, broad and thick through the middle. Fully mature deer, probably 3-1/2 years old. The antlerless tag was validated and attached to an ear. The field dressing accomplished in short order. It only took around two hours to drag the animal the nearly two miles back to the truck. The ice-slicked leaves provided for a relatively easy drag.

It was enjoyable to smoke a cigar and slurping a hot cup of coffee while admiring the fat doe swinging from my maple tree. I even forgave the cigar for falling apart with about 20% remaining, smoking it out in the 10 degree cold as I did.

Saturday evening I hunted a different spot, one that I call McCaslin Brook – West. I jumped a plump doe out of a deep ravine and watched as she made her way up the ridge on the opposite side. She stood there in the late afternoon sun while I observed her through the riflescope. But the DMU 49A doe tag was already filled, so I simply watched as she vanished off into the forest. My battered old bones were beginning to feel the effects of the morning drag, so I hobbled back to the truck, and back to the cabin.

Sunday, I returned to the same spot I hunted Saturday morning, hoping that the six-pointer would still be running around. It was somewhat warmer, around 15 degrees and clear. Shortly before legal shooting light, I observed two other hunters arrive by flashlight. One guy set up no more than 200 yards to the east of me, while the other ascended the steep ridge to the south. I was uncomfortable with the guy 200 yards to the east, and the guy who had ascended the ridge was up there coughing, over and over. I slowly worked my way out of there and took up a secondary stand approximately 500 yards away. I could still hear the guy on the ridge coughing. I just didn’t seem right in there that day.

As I approached my vehicle, I jumped a huge eight-point buck out of a dense thicket. I had him in the riflescope just for a second, staring right at his butt with his face looking back at me over his shoulder. He snorted and thundered and crashed through the woods. I returned to the cabin and watched football games the rest of the day.

Monday I awoke to 30 degrees and light snow. I hunted one of my familiar DMU 49A areas in the morning but saw only a fawn. I drove over to DMU 44 near the tiny town of Doty. I had never hunted here before, so needed to stomp around and scout out the area. It is a phenomenally beautiful area, with dense pine swamps interspersed with high oak uplands. I stomped around until almost dark, got briefly lost, found my truck, and then promptly got lost on the Forest Service roads trying to find my way out of there.

Tuesday morning, I headed back to DMU 44, to the area known as Temple Lake. It was an absolutely beautiful day, maybe 20-25 degrees and clear. The area I hunted (north of Temple Lake) is a network of trails in a rough “E” shape, with the terminus of each end of the “E” ending up back at Highway W. No motor vehicles are allowed on the trails, which are blocked with large boulders. This makes for a very peaceful and rugged hunt.

At approximately 3:00PM, I jumped a plump doe out of a pine thicket. She bounded off just a few yards, and was observed looking back, curious about this smelly entity that had entered her bedding area. I circled slowly around the area, and then took up a stand on a ridge overlooking the bedding area. It was getting toward dusk, and the sunset was majestic in shades of orange, gold and blood red. I had just about called it a day, being as far as humanly possible from my truck on this network of trails, when I observed a doe approaching from the north, back toward the same bedding area. I had chosen to take the 30.06 on this hunt (for no particular reason), and it served me well as the doe was cleanly taken at a distance of 50-60 yards. By the time I had gotten the deer tagged and field dressed, it was dark. I had left my flashlight back at the truck, to lighten the load for my still-hunt. It was extremely fun dragging that deer up one hill and down the next for two hours in the dark, back to the road, then hiking another 45 minutes back to my truck, then going to pick her up. A hard-earned kill.

Wednesday I awoke feeling as though my body had been beaten with a baseball bat. I took the doe into town for processing, and then sat on the screenporch smoking cigars and drinking beer. I did not hunt on Wednesday. I was feeling pretty content with the two does, already enjoying an extremely successful season (by my standards). But it was only Wednesday night, and I still had a buck tag in my pocket. I decided to give it two more sits, Thursday morning and Friday morning, then head home on Saturday. I set my alarm clock for 3:00AM Thursday.

I was so certain that I would not be filling the buck tag (but simply wanted to enjoy sitting in the woods a couple more days) that I took my 2001 Jeep Cherokee into the woods instead of my ’85 Jeep CJ7. Now the Cherokee is not set up for hauling large dead forest creatures, with its fancy beige leather upholstery and all. It’s more of a “gentleman’s Jeep”, useful for getting up to the cabin and back. Then I have the CJ7 with a carrier on the front for doing the dirty work. But I had washed and waxed the CJ all up and got it all pretty, so I tossed a big sheet of plastic in the back of the Cherokee (just in case), and returned to the same stand I had used Opening Day. I decided to take the .35 Whelen with me.

Shortly into legal shooting light, I heard the cruchity-crunchity-snap of a deer approaching from behind me, on my left. My heart pounded in anticipation as the deer approached, drawing closer and closer, now only 25 yards to my left. As the deer moved in front of me, I raised the rifle and peered through the scope. I could not see the deer. In my excitement, I had breathed on and fogged up the scope lens!

I hastily withdrew a sheet of emergency ass-wipe from my camouflage cargo pants pocket and began wiping the lens of the scope. Eeeky-squeeky-eeeky-squeeky…..the tissue made squeeking noises as I wiped the lens. The deer that had approached from behind bounded off, then stood on the hillside and looked back at me. It was a large doe. Just at that moment, a jaunty young buck, bearing a spike on one side and a fork on the other appeared out of the woods, following the doe. The .35 Whelen cracked and the deer dropped on the spot. I was actually quite pleased with a young buck rather than a massive swamp giant, for eating purposes. I know there are a couple hundred thousand hunters today staring forlornly at their unfilled buck tags.

Six days of hunting……three deer tags filled.

Two does, one buck.

An outstanding year of deer hunting in the November deer woods of northern Wisconsin.

[CRider]

Sounds like a great time hunting, congrats!!! Venison makes for the best chili!

[Madmike]

Great writeup ! Here's Mine:

I hunted hard Wed - Sun....Never saw a thing. One partner took a big doe....that was it.

[HRPuffinStuff-cr]

Thanks to Anton for the 5 Vegas Gold that I smoked while admiring deer #1 swinging from my maple tree, and even moreso for those two Perdomo Slow-Aged. Man I enjoyed those Perdomos after a long cold day in the field. (Of course, I hung my hunting gear outside when smoking in the cabin.)

Then I smoked the four giant Don Lino Africa figurado thingys that I had and a couple of "Tribal Blend" cigars I got from my cigar buddy Josef.

I'll get back to bombing everybody I owe now that deer hunting season is over and I get my shit back together here.

And dig out of the foot of snow we're having today.

[Python]

Nice post PuffnStuff!

Do you use a journal to keep track of your days while hunting?

[HRPuffinStuff-cr]

Originally Posted by Python

Do you use a journal to keep track of your days while hunting?

No, I just keep track of the days and the events in my mind.

Then I write 'em down as soon as possible after I get home before all the BEER I drink ERASES 'em.

[fishr]

Good stuff. I shot 2 does this year but didn't hunt nearly as hard as you did and I drove my truck up to both after I shot them, so no draging. Kinda felt like I was going to the grocery.