SECOND CHANCE BUCK

By Wendell Shaw

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

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. 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

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 fi rst light and no where could we fi nd 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 fi gured 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 fi eld 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 fi eld 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 fi ve 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 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 rifl e season to open up.

Opening day of rifl e 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 fi nd him, but would only see him for glimpses at last light and fi rst 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 fi gured 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 fi nd Brad, I think I made it in just over 30 minutes. The buck was bedded down in the middle of a fi eld 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 fi eld 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 fi eld 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?”

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

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.

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 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.

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!