Big Game Illustrated- Issue 31

Fall 2021 issue CANADA/USA 6.99

COVER STORY

PRINCE

Lane Hodnefield FEATURE ARTICLE

LEARNED FROM THE BEST Dexter Robert

Publisher: Big Game Illustrated Media

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50 Feature Editorial LEARNED FROM THE BEST

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By Dexter Robert Hunting has always been the most important thing I’ve shared with my father. Some of the moments are impossible to forget.

SECOND CHANCE BUCK

By Wendell Shaw

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I have always considered myself somewhat of outdoorsman, growing up my father would always take us fishing, hunting and camping.

In This Issue

AN ANSWERED PRAYER 06

By Arlis Hanson

SOUTHERN GIANT

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SECOND CHANCE BUCK

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By Austin Ronyk

By Wendell Shaw

YOU JUST HAVE TO FIND THEM 34

By Brett Cobb

LEARNED FROM THE BEST

By Dexter Robert

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PRINCE

By Lane Hodnefield

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MR. CLEAN

By Paul Slemming

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SURPRISE BUCK

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06

By James McKeever

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AN ANSWERED PRAYER

By Arlis Hanson

I was awoken by my alarm buzzing at 4:40am September 7th, 2020. Just a short time after, I would have the coffee started while I quietly geared up for another day.

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I was out the door and on my way as soon as there was enough daylight to make out the trees across the road, then I’d hit the highway and head east.

This is how I had been spending my mornings with the exact routine patterned every day for a week.

COVID19 delayed school and it would give me a week to hunt archery Mule Deer before classes started. A full week of mule deer hunting was like a dream come true for me! I had 7 days with 98 hours of daylight to cut a tag before summer ended and I knew I would have to make every moment count.

“I had 7 days with 98 hours of daylight to cut a tag before summer ended and I knew I would have to make every moment count.”

I hunted hard and made a four hour stalk on a giant, velvet typical a few days into the season. However, once I closed the distance and waited for this big brute to get up to present an ethical shot, a whitetail doe and fawn walked straight towards me. They turned and passed me within a few feet but then circled around and caught my scent. Busted! The doe snorted and puffed to alarm the others. I knew I couldn’t shoot my mule deer because he was still 35 yards away and only his horns poked out of the tall grass when he stood alarmed. “No dice,” I thought as he slowly backed out and trotted away confused, leaving me with nothing but a long walk back to the truck after I found my shoes.

Not long after 10 O’clock, my eyes locked onto a set of fuzzy horns only a few hundred yards from the road. When he turned his head I instantly knew this deer was special, he had a third main beam sticking out 20 inches off his left antler, not to mention the other extra points and character this old fella carried.

The problem was he and his two other buddies were just heading back into the slough from feeding on the crop to bed down for the day. I glassed him for about an hour while I snapped a pile of pictures of him. My cousin Kenton and Uncle Barry were also hunting the area, so they made their way over to lay eyes on this

I spent the next few days in search of the same deer but the thing is they don’t get big by being dumb, and this one was too clever to be found by me again. A few more days passed and the rain begun to fall making it miserable for scouting, leaving me on my last few days of hunting. Finally, the sun came out on my last day before school started! I was up and at it extra early with high hopes I could still cut that tag on a velvet deer that I had always wanted. I took the long way around to see if I could find this deer in a new bed someplace that I hadn’t checked yet. The road was peppered with tracks too big to be deer and to my surprise, a small herd of elk met me as I climbed the hill. I took a few pictures and went along my way as those big critters grazed in the draw, I covered more ground in search of that big mule deer, or any bucks at this point.

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king too. No matter what, we had to give them a few hours to settle before planning a stalk to make the kill shot. So, after seeing his bed and watching his horns disappear among the grass, I put the truck in reverse and slipped out. After cruising home, I grabbed some lunch and fed the calves but then I had only one thing on my mind, hoping that the deer stayed where we left him.

I didn’t get back out till five and I knew I would be cutting it short on time. Soon the deer would be getting up to go feed for the evening. Sure enough, through my binoculars, I could see all three deer standing in the grass looking around. I grabbed my bow and snuck down the fence line. My mind burst with frustration as I bumped a little fork horned buck on the fence and watched him bounce towards the big fella. However, for some reason, that little buck stopped halfway to the other deer and stopped in the grass giving me

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“When he turned his head I instantly knew this deer was special, he had a third main beam sticking out 20 inches off his left antler, not to mention the other extra points and character this old fella carried.” another chance. I tiptoed around the slough closing the ground between me and the deer. At 70 yards I had to really start being sneaky not to cause noise walking through the tall, dry grass. I took my shoes off at 50 yards to minimize my noise. When I looked up, there he was again. That little fork horned buck had circled downwind just like that doe did a few days prior. Only this time without making any noise the small buck headed away from both me and the big fella. I couldn’t believe my eyes. When the wind stopped, and I could see the jumbo set of horns twitch through the grass I knew that he could smell a rat.

This old fella was suspicious of my presence. I ranged him at 30 yards but knew I needed to cut that distance in half if I were to get a good shot in these conditions.

I prayed for one more chance, hoping that I could close in and my arrow would fly straight and stay sharp. Soon it began to rain, not heavy rain, but drizzle with some small hail. In my favor, the hail made a tremendous amount of noise on the grass, allowing me to sneak like a cat right into 15 yards of this big velvet non-typical. “This is the stuff I live for,” I thought!

There I sat with my arrow knocked cold, wet, nervous and full of excitement! Another hour passed of torture, waiting until I could seal the deal. I was so close I am sure he could hear my pounding heart. I could hear him grunt, chew his cud, and sometimes even catch his breathing. “Good things come to those who wait!”

I told myself. Then for some reason, it all stopped.

He just sat there frozen and then all at once sprung onto his feet. I had a bad feeling because where he was, I didn’t have a shot and I knew that he would likely bounce off. That’s when I realized that Kenton was sitting on the hill across from the slough with his friend watching this story unfold through their binos.

It all made sense now, the big fella must have caught their scent and so he got up to check things out.

He locked his eyes on me for a moment, but my heart froze and I remained still as a rock. He let his guard down and made a few steps towards Kenton with his head up trying to piece together what was going on.

There he was, perfectly broadside through a little bit of grass at 15 yards. I drew back and sent my G5 Montec broadhead right to the kill zone.

Down he went. He did not take one step, just dropped like a bag of potatoes. I got another arrow ready to go as I walked up to the deer of my dreams. Good thing I was as close to him as I was because I must have hit some grass sending my arrow off course, this ended up breaking his neck and instantly paralyzing him. After getting the truck and cutting the tag on my first velvet muley we noticed that my buck was so old that he only had a few teeth left! Hard work pays off when you put the hours in, and I couldn’t be happier to take this unique, old king of a mule deer!

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“Allison Huppertz tagged a tremendous Alberta whitetail at 15 years old!”

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SOUTHERN GIANT

By Austin Ronyk

Opening day of Saskatchewan archery mule deer season arrived and I was out searching for a target buck.

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To my surprise, it did not take long and I found a target buck. I spotted him deer feeding around supper time. As I watched him, he slowly made his way over a hill out of sight. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a location that I was familiar with, so I started doing some digging and located the landowner. Lucklily, the landowner got back to me quickly, so I decided to head back and see if I could find him again before dark.

Conditions were excellent for archery mule deer hunting so I figured might as well not waste any time waiting around. I got back to where I spotted him, and slowly walked a couple hundred yards through a wheat field before spotting the deer again. The blustery wind was in my face, gusting regularly over 30km/h and creating the perfect opportunity for me to move in close enough for a shot, undetected.

In just a few minutes, I was able to crawl through the wheat and get within 15 yards of the buck.

I was very confident in my position so from there I knew that it was just a waiting game. I waited and waited for him to present a shot. Suddenly, there as a change and I felt the thing that archery mule deer hunters dread the most. I started to feel the wind on the back of my neck so I knew it was likely going to be over in moments. As quickly as I felt it, I looked up to see he putting his nose in the air. Unexpectedly, he started walking right at me, leaving me no shot as I hoped that he would stop and turn. He did not, instead he walked right in to three yards and just stared at me before taking off! The perfect setup did not work so well after all and I could do was watch him bound away.

A few days later, the morning of September 4th, I drove by the same area and spotted him out in the field. I watched him through the spotting scope until he bedded down on the side of a hill so I decided to go after him once again. As I was walking in, trying to pinpoint exactly which bush he was bedded in and thinking that I must be starting to get close, the buck

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“I sat there, eagerly waiting for him to stand, while focusing on staying calm for the shot and hoping to avoid a repeat scenario with the wind on the back of my neck.” jumped up right in front of me and took off over the hill! I will admit that I was really starting to get down on myself, thinking, “I just blew a stalk that should’ve been relatively easy!” Despite my disappointment, I slowly walked over the hill to see if I could spot him again. Sure enough, there he was again in the middle of a thick canola field! I laid down and would watch him through the binoculars until he would look away then I would slowly slide my bow ahead and inch myself down the side of the hill over thorns and cactuses with little to no cover. It was painfully slow but seemed to be effective. To my surprise, after three hours of doing this I got to the edge of the canola field and now had 200 yards of canola to get through.

Anyone who has crawled through canola knows that is not an easy task. Another two hours of painfully slow crawling and I found myself finally on the other side of field and was able to get within 20 yards of the bedded buck once again.

I sat there, eagerly waiting for him to stand, while focusing on staying calm for the shot and hoping to avoid a repeat scenario with the wind on the back of my neck. Finally, after almost two hours of sitting, he slowly stood up. He then took a couple steps away and turned just enough for me to have a clear shot. The arrow hit him perfectly and went straight through. I watched him run about 40 yards then turn around. It was a crazy scene as we locked eyes right before he started wobbling and fell over. It was a season and a hunt that I will never forget.

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SECOND CHANCE BUCK

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By Wendell Shaw

I have always considered myself somewhat of outdoorsman, growing up my father would always take us fishing, hunting and camping.

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Later in life, I married, had two sons and a daughter whom I’ve brought up the same way.

Pushing close to retirement now, I’ve slowed down a bit in my hunting and taken up more wildlife photography. I still enjoy going out with my boys and watching them harvest animals and taking pictures for them.

I live in Southern Alberta, and therefore we’re close to the mountains where we have all kinds of opportunities to get outdoors and enjoy our wildlife.

Each year we send in our draw applications for what we would like to hunt. As usual I am used to seeing, “Not Awarded”, but last year was different. As I checked my draw status on my Antlered Mule Deer, it came back as, “Awarded”. Thinking that it must be a mistake because I was only at a priority 4 and it usually takes a little longer than that I had my son check on it for me and sure enough I had been drawn for Antlered Mule Deer.

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As soon as one of us is drawn, it seems like all things almost come to a complete stop and scouting begins.

Both my sons enjoy just going for drives, checking out deer populations and taking pictures of potential candidates for deer season. They both know that old Dad here won’t pull the trigger unless it was something worthwhile. My oldest son teaches school about 45 minutes from our home and drives right through prime mule deer country.

“Each year we send in our draw applications for what we would like to hunt. As usual I am used to seeing, “Not Awarded”, but last year was different.”

He would always leave early for work and do a little scouting along the way. I would often get cell phone pics from him of deer asking if this was big enough or lets just keep him in the potential pool. My other son lives right in prime mule deer country as well and loves to take evening scouting trips. As season got a little closer, I found myself out doing a lot of scouting and found some good potential deer. A few years ago, my son Brad bought me a compound

bow, and although I haven’t done a lot of bowhunting in the past I have taken a couple of mule deer. So, I decided that I would get the bow permits and try hunting during the bow season, at least if I didn’t harvest anything it would get me out in the fields, and I would know more of the deer that were in the area.

During the early season scouting we found one buck that we were particular interested in. After securing

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permission to hunt on the property, we were all set for opening day of bow season. Well, as most opening days go, we were out at first light and no where could we find the buck that we wanted to try for. Next to the property that we hunt on is land that is posted and doesn’t allow public access, so we figured that the deer looked at his calendar and realized that hunting season had started and made his way back into the no hunt zone. The rest of the bow season found me out looking and passing up on a few decent bucks. There was one buck we had seen that I decided that if I had an opportunity with my bow that I would try and harvest him. I headed out one night and found him feeding in a canola field about 200 yards away, he kept moving closer and closer to where I was so I got set up and waited.

“The buck was bedded down in the middle of a field that all sloped down to a watering hole and was surrounded by a few does.”

I wasn’t sure when last legal light was, so I quickly text my son and asked him how much time I had before legal light ended, 8:15 was his response and as I looked at my clock it was 8:05pm. By this time the buck was about 70 yards away and closing the distance. In the back of my mind I thought this is going to happen just like in the hunting shows, last light, buck walks in, perfect shot and its meat in the freezer. Little did I know, that about 30 yards in front of me was a smaller buck bedded down, and when the bigger buck got a little closer the smaller one stood up and I was busted. I had about a 60 yard shot to the bigger buck with about five minutes of legal light left. I thought, “What should I do?” I’m a pretty good shot with a bow out to about 40-50 yards but with the diminishing light, and being alone

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I decided against taking the shot, a decision I knew that I might regret, but the decision was made. I never saw that buck after that encounter and later I learned that someone else had harvested him. Hoping that I didn’t blow my only chance, I waited for rifle season to open up.

Opening day of rifle season was about the same as opening day for bow season, nothing. We checked all our usual locations, and although we saw quite a few bucks none of them were worth tagging out on. My son Derek kept driving through the zone on his way to and from work and found what he thought to be a pretty respectable buck. He could never quite get a good look or picture of it, but thought it was one that was worth chasing. So, for two weeks we tried to find him, but would only see him for glimpses at last light and first light before he would disappear.

Feeling discouraged, I decided that I was going to head to my cabin and spend the weekend looking for whitetails. Friday night I loaded my gear and headed up for the evening planning to hunt Saturday morning. About 8:30 on Saturday, Derek came to the cabin. I figured he was just coming to go hunting with me. He proceeded to tell me that his brother Brad had located the buck and he was on the property that we had permission to. We quickly loaded my gear, closed up cabin and I headed out. It normally is about an hour drive to where I would find Brad, I think I made it in just over 30 minutes. The buck was bedded down in the middle of a field that all sloped down to a watering hole and was surrounded by a few does. There were other hunters that were watching this deer as well, so we had to make a game plan fast.

We belly crawled through the field and needed about ten more yards to have about a 250 yard shot. As we’re belly crawling along, Brad looks behind us and says, “Great, we have company.” Figuring it was other hunters, I turned and looked. All the landowner’s cows that were in the field decided it was time to head to the watering hole at the same time. It was now or never to get a shot; we crawled the remaining ten yards and I got the bipod all set up. Brad looked at me and asked, “You have a shell in your gun this time?”

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I remembered back in the spring of 2019, I had drawn a Merriam’s Turkey tag. Opening day, we had a nice setup on a great Tom. I raised my gun, slipped the safety off, pulled the trigger, and “click,” empty chamber. That was all the bird needed to hear to turn and be gone. First real senior’s moment for me.

Fast forward back to mule deer. The buck was now up and very nervous, surrounded by his does. I got the crosshairs on him but just didn’t have a clean shot with all the deer around him. The cows were getting closer and the buck decided to hightail it out of there. About 300 yards out he separated himself from the does. I thought we may as well try a shot as he was headed back to posted land. He paused for a couple seconds and the shot was a clean miss high.

I didn’t have another opportunity for a second shot and as he crested the hill we heard two other shots.

We figured the other hunters that were watching had an opportunity at him, after seeing which way he was going to exit the field. Our friend that was with us was watching all this from a hilltop. When we returned back to the truck we asked him if the buck was dead knowing that he probably was. His reply was, “No, both hunters missed him at less than 50 yards!” What a relief, but we all knew this buck would probably never come off the posted land again.

For the next week we spotted every morning and evening but never did see the buck again. On Friday, November 22, we spent all afternoon looking but never saw him. It had been six days with no sightings

and we had come to the conclusion he was gone into the next county. Seeing him again was a slim chance at best.

Saturday Morning Derek called. “You want to go out? Kesten and I are going for a drive.” Kesten is my 3-year-old grandson, so I thought maybe he would bring us some good luck as this was the first time that I had ever gone deer hunting with him. About 7am we headed out to our usual spots to do a little glassing. We knew of a few mature, big heavy 3x3’s and thought it might be fun to shoot one of them with Kesten with us for the experience. Derek stopped the truck and began to glass the first spot. He immediately said, “There’s a pretty good buck out in the field, probably worth taking a second look at.” All of a sudden he drops his bino’s, “Holy crap, that’s him! That’s the one your missed last week!” Not believing him I put my binos up, sure enough it was him. Up until this point I never really had a good look at what this buck had for a rack. I was just taking my sons word for it that he would score pretty good. The buck starting getting pretty nervous as usual, so we made a quick game plan. I snuck out of the truck and hiked down thru a field into a little ravine that I could sneak up closer and try for a shot.

All was working great when another truck pulled up behind Derek and started to watch. The does began to get nervous and trot out the back of the field taking the buck with them. I got to the fence line just ahead of them and got a good rest on a post and found him in my scope. He had separated from the does a bit but for some reason it was all blurry and foggy and I could barely see the deer. I quickly inspected the scope and

found it to be clear, so I looked through again and it was the same blurry and foggy. In my mind now I could hear Derek saying, “Why in the heck are you not shooting!” Blurred scope and all I had to try the shot. I settled the cross hairs on the buck, still not even sure what he had for a rack. I only knew that he was good, so I squeezed the trigger. I thought I heard the sound of a good hit, but he took off, so I tried another shot then lost sight of him. “Great! Another missed opportunity because of a messed up scope,” I thought as I yelled back to Derek, asking if he had gotten away? He yelled back, “No, he’s down, you just killed a 200 incher!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I settled my nerves and walked back to truck. As I arrived back Kesten yelled, “Papa! You got a buck!”

I had Derek take my gun and look through the scope.

“All’s clear,” he said, “nothing wrong with it.” I looked again and it was still blurry and foggy. Trying to find and answer it finally dawned on me. In my haste to take the shot, I forgot to take my progressive glasses

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off. When I looked through my scope it was adjusted for my eye without my glasses, so naturally everything was blurry and foggy. Thankfully all worked out and lesson learned.

outdoor adventures. He passed away three years ago after a brave battle with cancer. I somehow think that he might have had a hand in getting me that second chance.

We gathered up our gear and started to make our way down though the field to my buck, still not sure how big it was. As we got closer there was definitely no ground shrinkage. He kept getting bigger and taller! He had all these sticker points that we never really did see. We quickly called my other Son, Brad, who was off with a friend of his trying to find a buck for him. We told him that we were done and that I had gotten a second chance on the buck that I missed a week ago. It didn’t take him long to catch up with us and the high manly hugs ensued. I have to admit that there is a special feeling in a man’s heart, as you walk up to a buck of a lifetime with your kids and grandkid there. It puts a perspective on life as to what’s really important. As we are sitting there admiring this buck, Derek makes the comment, “Don Yuill would be proud of that one and smiling down at you right now.” Don is a great friend of mine whom I spent many hunting trips with and

As we were skinning and gutting, we noticed a wound on the top of bucks back. Later, I learned that someone had tried to arrow this buck and hit him high. They tried all day to recover it but never did find it again. Funny how things work out.

I want to thank Brad and Derek for their countless hours in spotting and encouraging me to keep going.

If it wasn’t for them I doubt I would be writing about this experience. As I think back on the hunting season, I believe all things happen for a reason.

Maybe that day the luck of having my grandson, two boys, and a special friend looking down was just the right combination for me to harvest a buck of a lifetime. After the 60 day drying period he was scored at 222 7/8” gross non-typical. Again, thanks to my two boys, Derek and Brad, and to Kesten for bringing good luck to PAPA!

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YOU JUST HAVE TO FIND THEM

By Brett Cobb

My name is Brett Cobb and I am the middle sibling of three brothers.

My older brother Trae and younger brother Bryn and I were drawn as a group for mule deer this year in zone 6.

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We have always rifle hunted whitetail, but none of us have ever killed a mule deer. A few years ago, I purchased and started using a bow, and for the past three years joined a good friend in zone 6 for the mule deer archery season. Unfortunately, I leaned that bow hunting mule deer is not an easy task and was unsuccessful.

When drawn this year, I convinced both of my brothers to get a bow, and we made several trips during September and October to try and arrow a monster.

Passing on many decent bucks, we found ourselves in rifle season, tags in hand. With Trae stuck at work with no sign of it letting up, Bryn and I decided to head down south to hunt Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning.

We headed out armed with information from the previous year’s hunt. Last year when hunting the area with some friends, we had spent several days chasing a very large buck. On our last day while walking out, my buddies bumped an even bigger deer, watching it bound over the hill with our hunt time running out!

Fast forward to the current year when my brothers and I were drawn. The buck we were chasing last year was arrowed in velvet by another hunter but there had been no word about the bigger one. That was until my buddy, Cody Sinclair, contacted him to congratulate him, and in talking mentioned the other buck we had spooked. The local hunter apparently was familiar with the buck, and mentioned he was around somewhere, had shrunk since the previous year, but was still a beautiful deer. Knowing this, my brothers and I had spent plenty of time in bow season glassing his home area with no luck. In reality, we had pretty much given up all hope that he was still around.

On Tuesday afternoon, after seeing several large groups of deer bedded in the area, Bryn and I got permission to walk in, hoping even to find another decent buck. Almost two miles in, we bumped a really nice buck and two other smaller bucks. Us, being green to the mule deer game, knew he was probably big enough to shoot, but given a side view and miles of hills

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and valleys and a deer that was on to us, watched him run away with little hope we would ever see him again.

After following where we thought he went for another half mile we turned around and started heading back on a slightly different path. Fairly soon we spotted the better of the two smaller bucks. Quickly, we ducked into a valley and got into position to where we thought he was. When we slowly crested the hill, the first thing we saw was a small two point at about 125 yards. We knew that this buck had been partnered up with the other ones, so the sight of him brought my hopes up quickly. Very quickly we noticed the other larger buck close by and dropped to our knees just peeking out enough to scan the area. I pulled up my binos up just in time to see a big non-typical stand to his feet. At that moment I had no doubt that we had a very large

“We knew that this buck had been partnered up with the other ones, so the sight of him brought my hopes up quickly.” deer on our hands! I ducked down and said, “That’s your buck Bryn, you’re gonna want to shoot it!” Bryn, still not knowing exactly what he was shooting, took my word for it and took the shot. He smoked the buck, and I watched him dive into the shallow valley below. I’ll never forget walking up to that deer, still not appreciating fully how nice he was, and watching Bryn’s eyes get bigger as he got his first good look at the buck. It was an epic moment between brothers.

Before we even lifted his nicer side out of the grass we were jumping up and down hollering like little schoolgirls. Gutted and tagged, we walked almost two miles back to the truck, and then got to work and got him processed and back home.

deer, I was in awe of his long tines, and we laughed at the fact that the day prior, this deer would have looked pretty good without lying beside the one already in the back of my truck. After we loaded them both up in the truck, we stood around for quite a while in awe, looking at the two deer we had killed in less than 24 hours. We knew they were a caliber that many hunters wouldn’t ever get the chance to see in their lifetime and we may never again. Thanks goes out to friendly landowners and hunting partners we can share memories with and that always keep us convinced. I have heard it many times and I finally believe it, “The big ones are out there, you just have to find them”.

That nigh was a very restless night back in the hotel.

We were playing over in our minds the previous day’s events and despite not much sleep, that motivated us to get up early and we headed out at first light to find myself a buck. At this point, I couldn’t help but grin when I was looked in my truck mirror at the largest mule deer I had ever laid my hands on. I knew how rare a buck like that was and was already preparing myself to be disappointed in comparison, with any deer we might find that morning. After several hours scouting and glassing we somehow managed to spot another great buck. I knew he wasn’t the giant Bryn’s was, but with the small chance that I would be back in the area for the rest of the season and some coaxing from Bryn, I decided to close the distance to get a better look. Half an hour later after some walking, running, and belly crawling, I ranged him at 330 yards. With plenty of time and a comfortable position laying down, I slowly squeezed the trigger, hearing the reassuring thwack of a solid hit. As we walked up to my

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LEARNED FROM THE BEST

By Dexter Robert

Hunting has always been the most important thing I’ve shared with my father. Some of the moments are impossible to forget.

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Hunting has always been the most important thing I’ve shared with my father. Some of the moments are impossible to forget, like shooting my very first buck at ten years old off my dad’s shoulder, him teaching me to track animals’ movements on my grandparent’s property, and us hiking in to hunt stone sheep in Northern B.C. I also vividly remember coming home after my dad shot a monster 186” whitetail. His excitement was palpable. For a guy who doesn’t smile a ton, his was ear-to-ear for days. That was back in 2008, and it was published in a magazine and authored by Jim Shockey. It was also partly because of my instilled love of hunting and butchering that I decided to become a general surgeon, and I got through 8 years of schooling thanks to the respite of hunting.

In 2019 I had to move to Saskatchewan from B.C. to begin my medical residency. It didn’t take me long to start scouting the land and tracking animals, and I spent my first entire paycheck on a brand new Excalibur crossbow.

So in early August, after sighting my bow in, I began scouting local pastures every evening after work during the last few hours of light. I zeroed in on some promising pastures and obtained permission to hunt there. For weeks I followed a herd that consisted of over 35 whitetail. I set my sites on a solid 5x5 deer.

He was far bigger than anything I had ever harvested before. I’m guessing you know that feeling of waiting for opening day, it was like watching water boil.

But everything changed right before opening day. Six days before then, I snuck into the treeline where the deer usually fed through, out into the pasture. I was watching my target buck at around 300 yards through my spotting scope when I heard branches breaking and leaves crunching. Then, silence. I held my breath, and my heart started to beat faster as I wondered

“But everything changed right before opening day. Six days before then, I snuck into the treeline where the deer usually fed through, out into the pasture. I was watching my target buck at around 300 yards through my spotting scope when I heard branches breaking and leaves crunching.”

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what it could be. My jaw dropped when five minutes later a giant buck walked through the brushline not twenty yards away. It was a non-typical 5x5 with a six inch drop tine off the right main beam. He slowly fed towards me, not realizing I was there. He was in full velvet, and was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen (don’t tell my wife I said so).

I was able to snap some pictures on my phone, knowing I’d need some proof to convince my dad of what I’d seen. After twenty minutes of watching him, the wind swirled and he spooked towards the rest of the herd. I rushed home, spinning up dust on the dirt road, and called my dad right away. Just as I thought, he didn’t believe me until I sent the photos. I had sweet dreams for the next few nights.

Luckily for me, opening day was on a Sunday that year and I didn’t have a hospital shift. I barely slept the night before, for once waiting for my alarm to go off. When it finally did, I grabbed my stuff and set out. I got to my pre-planned spot and waited for first light, noticing that some of the deer were feeding along a tree line next to the field. Four mature bucks were bedded down in the middle of the field and on high alert, and rather than push them I decided to set up and wait.

I wedged myself between some round hay bales, and watched the sky turn orange and pink as the sun began to rise. The herd started feeding across the field in my direction.

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The herd was led by a smaller 3x3 and a pair of does, followed by the group of mature bucks.

As the deer got closer, the landscape put them out of view for a short period of time. They re-emerged five minutes later less than 40 yards away. This was my chance. I cocked my bow and loaded a 150 grain bolt into my Excalibur. As the small buck worked itself closer to me, I still couldn’t see where my target buck was. At 20 yards the does that were following the buck must have caught my movement. The group spooked out in front of me.

“This was my chance.

I cocked my bow and loaded a 150 grain bolt into my Excalibur. As the small buck worked itself closer to me, I still couldn’t see where my target buck was.”

Fortunately I had set up with the wind in my face and they couldn’t make out what I was. They snorted and stomped with anxiety, with me feeling anxiety of a different kind. As this happened, the group of bucks ran out and joined them. They stopped and stared in my direction, and my target buck was the third one in the group. I ranged him at 55 yards. I lined up on my shooting sticks, and slowly squeezed the trigger. But to my surprise I felt resistance. I panicked and my heart sank as I realized I had left the safety on. By this time the bucks were antsy, and as I repositioned and took off the safety my buck trotted further into the field before stopping and looking back at me. I re-ranged him at 72 yards. I had only sighted my bow to a max of 50 yards and had pins up to 60 when practicing in the pre-season. I didn’t think another opportunity would

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present itself, and remembered something my dad would always say, “Big bucks get big because they’re smart. You usually only get one chance at them.”

I decided to take the shot and held the 60 pin at the top of his back. I squeezed off an arrow just behind his shoulder and watched in disbelief as it drilled him with a perfect double lung shot. His back hunched up and he ran 40 yards before falling over in a cloud of dust. He kicked a few more times then laid still. I screamed with excitement. After waiting for a few minutes, I worked my way over and laid my hands on his perfect velvet. He was everything I had ever dreamed of and more.

I couldn’t get a vehicle to him, so I skinned, quartered and backpacked him out, just the same as I had done many times in the mountains of B.C. When he was officially scored, he netted 196 and 3/8, bigger than

anything my dad had ever shot, and with character to boot. I decided that a buck of a lifetime should last a lifetime, and having seen velvet deteriorate I elected to strip the velvet. With a little bit of stain, some coffee grounds, and coordinating with Orion Taxidermy in Moose Jaw, I was able to put a beautiful mount on the wall that I can proudly display in our home.

This Saskatchewan monster sits in our office lurking over my wife in her office daily, which she loves, and reminds me of on a daily basis. My dad came for a visit and hunting trip in the fall of 2020 and was able to see the mount in the flesh, to touch and admire it. I hope it reminded him of all the special moments we’ve had hunting, and all that he’s taught me.

In 2020, I was able to tag a 202 3/8” archery mule deer that I arrowed at 30 yards with my dad watching proudly following an 8 hour spot and stalk endeavour!

PRINCE

By Lane Hodnefield

This story begins back in early august in 2018. My girlfriend Chaydin and I were on our first scouting tour of the year.

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We were looking for a legendary buck my friends and I had been following for many years we named the flyer buck. The season before the flyer buck was a massive non-typical sporting hooks and stickers and drop tines. This freight train would have scored roughly 240 inches, so he was definitely the first buck on our list. Not long into our drive we located the flyer buck.

He had dropped about 30 inches from the year before and you could really tell that the years were taking its toll on this legendary buck. At the time, all we could focus on was the flyer buck.

Later that night I was looking through the footage we had taken and noticed that the flyer buck’s wingman was a really nice deer too. It was a younger buck I had guessed to be about four years old and he would have been somewhere in that 190-inch range. I had checked in on the young buck a couple times throughout the year. This buck was going to be a rock star he had double split forks and a big frame and just looked like a deer that could blow up in a couple years. The hunting season came and went, and the flyer buck was killed by a lucky hunter, but his wingman had made it through the season. We were privileged to have the opportunity to hunt some great deer that year. Unfortunately, Chaydin’s busy school schedule made it very difficult for her to get out that year so she was un able to fill her draw tag and I harvested an old timer buck on one of the last days of season with my bow.

I was happy to take him, but he wasn’t one of are target bucks for the season.

The 2019 season arrived and my hunting buddy and cousin Cole Stark was drawn for mule deer at home and we were excited to say the least. I had got a call from him in early August saying he found a monster. I was so excited, and as soon as he showed me the pictures, I knew exactly which buck it was. The flyer buck’s wingman had blown up into a very, very impressive buck. We named him Prince. I could hear the excitement in Coles voice and this was definately the buck he was wanting

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“We were looking for a legendary buck my friends and I had been following for many years we named the flyer buck.”

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to wrap his draw tag around. He had a larger than life frame with double split back forks. He had turned into a monster. I was so excited I couldn’t wait to get back home to see him for myself. A couple days later Cole had found another complete monster that neither of us had ever seen. This was an ancient old buck with world class mass and many extras. Cole was sitting over Princes’ chick pea field watching him feed when this new buck showed up. To say we were lucky would be an understatement. We had about 10 days to wait until opening day and had two bucks that would score well over 200 in the same field!

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Cole had agreed that he would take either of these bucks if we were given an opportunity. On opening day, we found both bucks but we had zero wind to make a stalk so we made the decision to just watch from a distance and did not want to force a stalk on either of these bucks and possible blow them out of the area. On day two we had a good wind and the old monster buck Cole and I had named Kong was bedded in a good spot.

Cole and I stalked in and Cole made his shot count on the beautiful old buck. After a short celebration Cole and I were back out in the same field, keeping an eye on Prince. With me just having a general archery tag I had to wait 13 days for my season to start. When the season finally came around, I was pretty confident after all the scouting we had put in that I would get an opportunity at Prince.

he would stay bedded for that long I was starting to think something was wrong. Shortly after that all the bucks stood and started making their way to the chick pea field to feed for the evening. Every buck stood up and walked over the hill but Prince. In the time I left to eat he had stood up and left the group by himself!

I couldn’t believe it or understand why he would do such a thing I was in shock. I had hunted him for the next two weeks without him really getting much of an opportunity since the first stalk. The more me and Cole watched him, the more we decided that maybe this wasn’t the year to try and get him. Yes he was a high scoring deer, but we knew he was only about five and should get even bigger the following year. It was a very hard decision to pass but he was in a good area that didn’t get much hunting pressure and we thought

“This buck was going to be a rock star he had double split forks and a big frame and just looked like a deer that could blow up in a couple years.”

Finally came opening day and I had located Prince, the only problem was that he was with about 10 different bucks. This stalk would be next to impossible with that many eyes. I watched the group of buck’s bed down in a wheat crop. At the time there was next to no wind but around noon the wind was supposed to pick up. I made the decision to go home for a bite and come back when there was enough wind to make a stalk. I got back and glassed where the bucks had laid down and I was able to pick out one set of horns. It looked like they were exactly where I had left them.

I slowly crawled into range of the buck I could see and sat tight as the hours went passed each buck took their turn standing up and stretching their legs. As each buck stood my excitement rose more and more it was only a matter of time before it was Princes turn to stand. I looked down at my phone to see how much time had passed and it had been five hours since I had gotten into position and every deer in the group had stood but Prince. I could not believe that

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if we passed him there would be a great chance of him making the season than who knows what he could turn into the following season. So that was the end of hunting Prince for the 2019 season. I was able to catch up to a great old buck I had seen early in scouting season and got him with my bow. He was my first boone and crocket buck. Passing Prince was hard but the decision payed off for me and I was able to harvest a buck in the age class I was looking for.

In the 2020 season I was lucky enough to pull a coveted draw tag in the zone that Prince called home.

I was ecstatic at the opportunity to have an extended season to go after him. Me and good buddy Riley Schick started scouting hard. July 18th our first scouting trip. This was pretty uneventful we seen some nice deer but nothing that we were wanting to put a draw tag on. Than on our way home the sun was down, and we were on our way home when in the ditch walking out of a canola field was a big king

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“We could tell there was one really big framed deer in the group but with the hard wind it was hard to keep the spotting scope steady enough to get a good look at him.” buck sporting split back forks and some stickers and a big boxy frame! Schick and I both looked at each other franticly that has to be him! We were so excited to just get a glimpse of him even if it was in the dark, we knew we were in the right place. We were able to spot him a couple times in the next couple weeks, but Prince sightings were few and far between. He would usually be hanging out in a canola field that was chest high so unless he was standing in just the right spot you weren’t going to see him. It was two days before archery season, and I was going to look for him but I didn’t have very high hopes. It had been about three weeks since I had last seen Prince. I got to my hill top and started glassing his canola field. Finally I picked out a big framed deer moving in the field. Prince made his way to a hill top and stood there proud and gave me a show. Its moments like these that really made me fall in love with hunting. I decided to back out of there and leave him alone not wanting to bump him so close to season. I was driving home thinking it was a done deal I had him figured out and opening day of archery season I was going to find him first thing in the morning sneak in and that’s the end of Prince.

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Was I ever wrong! September came and went without one Prince sighting. I was starting to get discouraged and had thought someone else may had got him. I had been hunting his area hard all year with no luck it was now towards the end of October and the temps were dropping and there was starting to be some pre-rut action from the bucks. My cousin Cody and I had planned to meet up for the weekend and see if we couldn’t find a good buck to go after with the muzzeloader. We were working the area that I had been seeing Prince a month and a half before. We looked into a big draw that went down to the lake there was a bunch of deer in the bottom. We had high winds and it was the first real cold snap of the year dipping down to -11. We could tell there was one really big framed deer in the group but with the hard wind it was hard to keep the spotting scope steady enough to get a good look at him. We decided to hike in to get a closer look the deer were about 1000 yards and there was about 12 deer in the group and not a lot of cover. We took the stalk really slow not wanting to get picked off by one of the many sets of eyes that were accompanying the big buck. Slow and steady we edged closer and closer stopping to glass along the way. We had finally cut the distance in half and Cody was on the spotting scope watching the big buck when he looked at me and said, “Do you know what buck that is?” I hadn’t been able to get a good view of him with the wind, so I had no idea. I took a look through the spotting scope and got it focused in and seen that big boxy frame with the split back forks and stickers that I had been in love with for three years now. It went from a cool and calm laid-back stalk to a panicked realization that it was Prince!!! It took a second, but I was able to re gain my composure and we kept on slow and steady. I looked up when we were crawling. We were about 350 yards or so away when I locked eyes with one of the smaller bucks in the group.

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Cody and I froze and waited it out as the deer started looking in our direction sensing that something was up. Some deer started to make their way up the side of the valley because they knew something was up.

Much to my surprise Prince stayed bedded down with another young buck while 10 other deer in the group went up and over the hill and out of sight. Cody and I kept moving slowly, finally getting to the spot we figured would be within range of him. We both peaked over the hill looking for horn tips in the cat tails when finally, Cody said “There he is!” Prince was about 110 yards away bedded down with his buddy. I got my bi pod down and steady on my muzzloader and Cody got the video camera ready on the tri pod. We were ready all we needed was for him to stand and give me a shot. I was trying to keep my nerves in check but that’s easier said than done. It had taken us all morning to get to this position and we were frozen solid, hands and knees were scraped up, but was worth it and it got us to this spot that I had been waiting for all season. Prince twisted his horns and he was about to stand for a mid-day stretch. He rose from his bed arched his back and stretched out his neck. My heart was pounding, but in this moment I was completely steady. I had my cross hairs centered right behind his shoulder took one last breath and squeezed off. Smoke filled my scope and I couldn’t see anything, but I heard a loud smack following the shot.

I asked Cody if I got him or if he had seen the shot.

Cody said, “I think you drilled him!” As the smoke cleared, I could see Prince standing there about 10 yards from where I shot. He was standing as if he

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didn’t know what had happen with his head held high looking like a true King for one last time before tipping over! Cody and I were all of a sudden not so cold and the long stalk didn’t seem too bad as we were giving high fives, and each had grins ear to ear. It’s hard to describe the feeling when you finally out craft a king that you have been perusing for years. At first you are filled with excitement and joy but than it’s followed by a sense of sadness, knowing that the final chapter has been written and the story you share with a certain animal has come to an end. I won’t be seeing Prince standing there in that canola field and he will no longer be giving me that heart pounding rush he did every time I seen him in the spotting scope or attempting a stalk. The story of Prince is one I will never forget, and I will enjoy looking at him and telling his story for many years to come.

I would like to thank the many land owners that allow hunting on their land and make these story’s possible.

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MR. CLEAN

By Paul Slemmings

In early 2016 my wife and I decided to go for a walk in the bush. Just for some fresh air and to stretch our legs.

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Two of my brothers came along as well and we went to a piece of public land we hunt quite often.

The first thing I did was get our vehicle stuck and no matter how we tried we could not push it out. Luckily a Neighbor came by and pulled us out. After that debacle and lots of heckling from my brothers we started our walk. My wife who is a professional photographer was busy taking photos of the beautiful forest so the trek was slow but we were able to walk up on some deer, 3 small bucks.

Having run trail cameras in the area for years I recognized two of them but the third was a new buck and unique in that his main beams almost touched at the tips. My wife took photos of him before he trotted off and we went on our way. Appreciating the opportunity to see the deer and wildlife. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would stay in the area or be one of those deer that just passes through.

I got my answer that fall when a beautiful typical 5x5 started showing up on all of my cameras. His main beams had a bit more space between the tips but it was definitely him. He had good tines, he was really even and already had good mass. We figured he was a bit of a fighter because he had a split ear from 2015. He was visible in daytime and I hoped I’d get some encounters with him during the season.

However, with him on public land I hoped he’d tone down the daytime activity. He did just that when hunting season started and I only saw him twice.

Once on October 26 he came into my set for 25 minutes and walked right by my tree at 2 yards! Even though he wasn’t on my hit list I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to stick an arrow through him. I held off though and decided just to get some really good video. The next encounter was a week later on November 2 when I was out with my rifle and watched him tend two scrapes at about 80-100 yards as he walked down a trail then over a hill. A relatively short encounter compared to the last but cool nonetheless. After talking to my brother and showing him the video we figured he was 4 years old with

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good potential, so we’d better give him a name and start keeping tabs. He was a clean 5x5 and coupled with a lack of imagination we decided on the name Mr. Clean.

The next year we looked for him and had multiple cameras in the area, there were many bucks we recognized but we didn’t get a single photo of Mr. Clean the whole season. In 2018 we made some adjustments to our set up and he came in right away then disappeared, we didn’t recognize him either because he had grown some non typical points and he was quite elusive. We bounced cameras all over on top of fresh scrapes and he’d show up once then notice the camera and ghost out of the area. Not wanting to spook him too badly we stopped looking and focused on trying to get him in the rut. Hoping to bring in the does and have them bring him in.

“Was a new buck and unique in that his main beams almost touched at the tips.”

Once the rut came he was on camera more but usually during the night. Then he’d find a doe and be gone for 3 days, we started hunting him every 4th day following the pattern. In mid November my friend finally saw him on the hoof as he ran past one of our sets in full pursuit of a doe. With no opportunity for a shot all my friend could do was watch him go.

Checking the camera later that morning revealed that in the last two days he had been in during daylight!

The next 4 days I had to work and it was just as well because Mr. Clean was locked down with the doe he had been chasing. I couldn’t help but wonder if every day I was working I was also missing my chance.

Finally I was able to get some days off and I headed back out to sit where we thought we might catch him moving. The first day we saw nothing except some

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small bucks and a few does. The temperature dropped that night so as I prepared for an all-day sit, I had a feeling it would be a good day.

When I parked my truck that morning I could immediately hear deer making their way through the forest. I had to move only when the wind would pick up to cover my movement and the sound of my footsteps in the snow. After what felt like forever I was finally settled in and ready. There must have been a hot doe in the area because the bucks were cruising that morning, all heading down the same trail. It was fortunate that I had my rifle that day because the trail was 70 yards away. I had set in my mind that I would only hunt with my bow that year but on a recent hunting trip the sight on my bow suffered some damage and needed work, so rifle it was.

“The temperature dropped that night so as I prepared for an all-day sit, I had a feeling it would be a good day.”

10:01am I hadn’t seen anything for 45 minutes or so when I caught movement through the timber. I knew it was a buck and judging by his body size he was mature.

His head was down, and he was moving quickly down the same trail as all the others. I brought up my rifle and chambered a round. He paused for a second and I saw tall tines, big sweeping beams and kickers coming out the back that was all I needed. I put the crosshairs on his vitals and pulled the trigger. He donkey kicked and ran behind some bush where I couldn’t see him. I put another shell in and kept scanning in case a follow up shot was needed. With my adrenaline still high but being able to take a breath I saw his ear flicker and knew it wasn’t over yet. He took 3 more laboured steps out from behind cover and although the first shot was enough I sent a follow up. I heard the hit and saw the shockwave centered on his lungs. Then he ran out of

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sight. I knew the shots were good and was so excited I had to text my wife and call my brother. 15 minutes later I figured it was safe to take up the trail or at least check for blood. As soon as I reached the initial point of impact there was really good sign and I knew he couldn’t be far. I followed for 10 yards to where he’d collapsed and got back up, then there he was. Laying in the snow 20 yards away was the biggest buck I’d ever taken. With every step he got bigger and bigger.

It wasn’t just his antlers, he had to weigh at least 350 pounds! A true fully mature Saskatchewan whitetail buck. I noticed his split right ear and finally recognized him! It had been three years since the first encounter with this now 6.5 year old amazing buck.

He deserved better photos then I am able to produce with a cell phone so I loaded him up and went to pick up my wife. After the photos we took him home and during skinning I found multiple cuts on his neck as well as all of his teeth on his left side had been smashed out from fighting, there was nothing but gums

and heavy bruising. He was the king of the area but he had definitely paid for it.

It’s amazing to watch a deer over the years and every year you’re on their side, hoping they survive, hoping they are healthy enough to make it through the - sometimes - brutal Saskatchewan seasons. Not selfishly in hopes that we get them but because they are amazing animals that deserve respect. Hunting is far more than just going out and killing something, it’s time spent with family and friends in the outdoors, the trail cam photos, the hard work and practice. In this case it was a huge personal accomplishment to choose a single deer to harvest and put the puzzle together to get it done.

After the excitement settled I couldn’t help but feel a bit of sadness. He wouldn’t be there next time I check my photos or out chasing does through the forest next year. His story has ended, but I thank God for the experience and am honoured it ended with me.

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SURPRISE BUCK

By James McKeever

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I am still in disbelief about all of the events related to my 2020 hunt. The feeling is truly unreal to shoot the largest buck of my life and then be offered this opportunity to share my story. To start the story, we go back to the start of summer 2020. My brother William had been scouting since late June.

When early July rolled around, I had decided that I would want to join him and help. He was super excited that I wanted to join him.

We had set up lots of cameras across numerous properties and had been checking them a couple times a week. We would also spend afternoons and evenings together and glass fields to watch how the deer were moving and try to pattern them. William would explain to me why we’d do something a certain way or if I had a question he would always answer and explain why. For example, when we were glassing, we would rotate fields. When we would return to the same field, sometimes we would sit at the same spot, and other times we would move to a different spot on the field.

One day I decided to ask why, he explained that we were playing the wind, making sure to have the wind in our faces so the scent would not blow towards the deer.

He also made sure we would always sit on the edge of the field by bush or tall grass so we would have some form of cover so that the deer would not see us.

William had to do a lot of tinkering with our cameras to keep them going at times since they are old cameras, but they worked. We immediately were getting deer on cameras. At the start we were seeing several young bucks and a good amount of does. However as late July came around, we began to get more mature bucks. My brother picked a spot for himself as there were lots of young up and comers and a couple real nice bucks.

There was a tall, heavy and wide four by four that he named “Batman”, and a really wide and tall clean five by five he decided to name “Kaiju”. At my spot we began to get photos of three mature bucks. One was an old five by four, real heavy and wide but short tined, we named him “Spruce”. He was the most frequent buck coming through the area. Another buck we ended up naming “Big Ben” was a narrow and heavy but tall four

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by four. The least frequent mature buck on my camera was a five by five with some stickers that I named “Shaq’ Raq’ “. I also had a lot of young bucks with good potential on my camera. Since my spot was more of a bushed area it made it hard to glass so we never ended up glassing my spot. My brother would always ask if I would want to but I knew there was no point as it was just too thick, but it was nice to have him ask. My excitement began to climb with every passing day as rifle season rapidly approached.

The first day of rifle season was Sunday, November 1st. Since I had school the next day, we could only hunt one day that weekend. In spite of the few hours, we still managed to see six deer that day. The second weekend was a pretty average weekend. Small bucks coming in and harassing does, and spikers scrapping with other spikers. The third weekend was insane, the first morning ten deer came into our stand. It started off with small bucks and does coming in, it was hard to stop from spooking them as my legs were cramped up and my back got sore and it became impossible to resist the urge to wiggle. Later that morning I was watching a spiker and doe when I turned my head to the right bushline and saw, “Big Ben”. His antlers towered over all the shrubs and grass around him, and his neck looked as big as myself, but unfortunately, he saw me move before I saw him. He stood there for about fifteen seconds as I prayed, he would put his head down, and walk closer. But it isn’t a perfect world like every hunter knows, so he turned and darted off into the bushes, blowing loudly. I heard him crashing through the bushes. We rattled, but he never came back in after spooking earlier that morning, so we went home with no deer harvested. That evening we saw the most deer we have ever seen there in an evening. That weekend I kept passing up 120 inch bucks, hoping I would strike gold with a big buck.

On Saturday, November 21st we went to the stand and got all set up. I began to see deer A spiker started harassing does, and at one point that morning I had the most deer at the stand at one given time there has ever been before, with six deer at our stand at one time.

Then it slowed down and I found myself drifting off, leaning my head against the right side of my treestand.

I was half awake, half asleep. I saw out of my tired eyes a lot of antler on a body walk out of the southeast trail out of the corner of my eye. He went behind a patch of young trees and I had enough time to get myself ready to shoot. I peeled off my warm body suit, grabbed my gun, stood and waited. About 45 seconds later the buck came out of the trees! At this point I was shaking like a leaf, so to calm myself down, I convinced myself that I would not shoot and just needed to relax. As I calmed down and became more stable, I got a better look and, although I didn’t think I recognized the buck, he looked pretty nice so I realized I needed to shoot!

I lined up my shot, gave the buck a “meh” and let the lead fly as he came to a stop. He jumped and ran about another thirty yards. He stopped behind some willows quartered away from me, so I tried shooting again, but I was shaking so bad that I never hit anywhere near him, but I knew that I had drilled him on the first shot.

“My excitement began to climb with every passing day as rifle season rapidly approached.”

He slowly started falling down, and over he went. I looked up to the sky and yelled, ‘Thank you Jesus!”, multiple times. My Dad got down and saw how bad I was shaking. Every time I stood up my whole body would just vibrate, so he had to help me down. He couldn’t see where it went down, and never got a good look at it either. Because I thought it was a different buck I said ,” Dad, I think he’s a solid 140”. He followed me to where I thought it was and as we turned around the corner he said, “Holy crap, that’s a lot bigger than a 140”. This was when I realized this was a new, even bigger buck than any I had on camera. On his right antler he had a sticker on his base, and on his left he had a sticker on his G2. At the end of both main beams he has cool blading. He was a main frame five by five,

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but he looked to be only three years old, with a small body and a young looking face. We brought him back home and we had my brother William score. Without dry time, he rough scored 165 5/8 inches gross.

This season has honestly been surreal, and not just for me. William, his girlfriend, my sister and my mom all got the biggest bucks of their lives. William got his buck “Kaiju” and he was 171 3/8 inches gross.

Since we both got big bucks, he said he’d build a pedestal to put the head mounts on. So I was super excited about that, and now he said he’d put in a glass display for the magazine when the issue is released.

My brother really taught me a lot this year and I’m really looking forward to next season.

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A BROWNING AUTHORIZED DEALER