Montana Whitetails 2008
My second day, on my second year bow hunting with Keith, and Bill, started in a 20' ladder stand. I had hunted this morning stand before, and had always seen lots of deer, and some quality bucks. The number of stars in the pre-dawn blackness was a good signal that the dawn would be clear. It was crisp, but definitely not uncomfortable. The guys had been experiencing some unseasonably warm weather prior to our arrival, so this was a welcome change. It only took me a few minutes to climb up, arrange my gear, hookup my safety harness, and settle into the comfortable stand. I had nearly an hour before shooting light so I could just relax, and let my senses get adjusted to the surroundings.
I was not in the seat more than a half hour when I heard movement in the high grass to my right. Not being able to see a thing I assumed that deer were moving from the alfalfa field earlier than usual on their way to a bedding area 400 yards slightly behind me, and to my left. I strained to catch a glimpse of a body, but it was still impossible for my 61 year old eyes to focus. More noise, this time almost in front of me, and I was now certain that animals were passing me by. Hopefully, none were the shooter I was looking for.
A lot faster than it seemed at the time, star lit black turned to dark gray, and then to an even lighter shade as dawn approached. I had been sweeping my eyes from left to right, and back, through the whole process and finally detected the source of the sounds. Two sage grouse we playing a game of tag in the scrub brush. They took turns darting in and out of the tangled branches producing sounds that had left me thinking all the deer would be bedded before daylight. There were no deer within sight, so I spent the wait watching them until they disappeared behind a big willow patch. Watching wildlife, of all sorts, is Montana hunting.
Last year I had seen several nice bucks pass by at 70 yards early in my watch. The first deer of this morning were does, and lots of them. Around that 70 yard range is a grass rimmed two-track ranch road, and the does were clearly following it. Right on their heels came an assortment of smallish racked bucks, single file, and in no particular hurry. While this action was taking place in front, more deer began to pop out to my right, between the ladder and the alfalfa. It was still only 7:30 AM, and I had a good dozen deer in sight. Several doe and fawns of the year made their way closer to my position, as they nibbled on shoots and grass. Some flanked off behind me, and I never did see them cross into the field between me and the bedding thickets. I was on my feet now, and looking for that "shooter" buck to appear. But, as the flow of deer continued only more of the same, until just before nine.
A pair of deer were feeding along the two-track and I glassed them with my Leupold bino/rangefinder. A nice size doe, and her fawn. They continued closing the distance before bearing to their left, and heading directly toward my stand. Lowering my binos I traced backwards, down the two-track, and saw more movement. Too thick in there to tell, but it looked like it had antlers. Slowly the doe and her fawn fed in my direction.I could see a definite path in the brush below, passing almost under my stand just to the left side of the ladder. If they continued on their course they would pass me at maybe two yards! A wind toppled aspen tree lay horizontal on the ground in front of me, and I had ranged it at 24 yards. A good reference point for a shooting circle in that direction. They casually approached, and then hopped over the downed trunk of the aspen. I had not checked on the buck, thinking he was another of the youngsters that had been passing earlier, so I looked up from the does to check him out. He was nowhere to be seen. More deer were moving about to my right, so I took a few seconds to check them out. Does, and a couple young rack bucks. I am still amazed that spike bucks as very rare out here. Even the year and a half youngsters sport thin but promising racks.
The doe in front was now grazing her was past my stand ladder, and the little one 30 feet behind her. I had shuffled my feet to face her for an up close look at her back when I caught movement behind the fawn. A nice eight point was pulling leaves off brush just beyond the downed aspen. My bow was still hanging on a hook on the opposite side of the tree so I decided to really check him out before trying to set up for a shot. Besides, he might not jump the aspen, and just head on out into the field. The big doe scooted out twenty yards , to the field edge, and the fawn took a couple of fast steps to the ladder bottom and looked in her direction. The eight point turned toward them walked down the small path, and jumped the log. He was facing me at just under 24 yards.
I was still not completely convinced this was the buck I wanted to try for. But he was a picture perfect eight, fat, and just plain pretty. A first class representative of a Montana whitetail. However, it was only my second day of a week long hunt, and I had seen numerous bigger eights and a couple impressive tens the year before. Without really giving it any conscious thought I had slowly turned my feet so my left was pointing toward him, and lifted my bow from the hook. Decision time......!
The eight had been in front of me for several minutes now, nipping and chewing on any vegetation within reach. The wind, or what there was of it, was in my face, and he had no idea I was there. I knew he was well within range, but a head on shot was out of the question, and my mind was still not sold. Rather than move ahead down the path he turned to his left and walked into some thin, chest high brush. Twenty one, twenty two yards, and broadside! I was in my shooting position as he took a few steps forward and stretched out his neck for another bite. A shaft of sunlight was streaming through the aspens above me and he was lit up like a spotlight was trained on him. Bright colored leaves, sunlight, great deer, broadside........I said to myself "It just doesn't get any better than this!"
I still need him to take another step or two to expose his rib cage, and the fawn was still messing about beneath my stand. If it bolted, the game was over. I decided to draw on the buck first, see if the fawn blew the plan, then wait for the buck to move forward. Just like a TV made to order script I drew back, the fawn apparently never heard me, and the buck took a couple of steps. The arrow was on the way without me even thinking about it. I shoot almost year 'round and believe me it pays off big time. No nerves, nothing but automatic. Just like shooting the Glendel target. Well, almost. The 100 grain Slick Trick hit him perfectly, just behind the shoulder and a huge plume of crimson spray shot out of him as he jumped up and headed back to the two-track. From 20' up in the tree I could watch him running, head down and rear wobbling, until he piled up 80 yards away. Now, I was a mess.
Even though I saw him fall I forced myself to wait about 20 minutes. I busied my self with collecting all my gear and stowing it away in my pack. No "tracking" was necessary. The blood trail was at least 3 feet wide and heavy. For practice, I followed it anyway. The buck had carved a lazy S to the two-track and died in the waist high brush just beyond. I pulled him to the road and admired the nearly symmetrical eight points. Not a monster (Keith would later score him around 110") but he was beautiful. I could not have been happier. I took out my can of Skoal and sprinkled a few grains of tobacco on him. A little gift to the great spirit for allowing me to take this animal.
It was still only around nine fifteen, and Bill was not due to come for me until 10:30, so I walked to the mouth of the road by the field to keep an eye out for him. Between the time I reached the field, and Bill's arrival, I watched over a dozen does and several bucks filter past my stand some 60 yards away. A loud SNAP, and a few soft grunts came from my right and I turned to see a cow moose trotting abreast of me. She seemed to know where she was headed and in a matter of seconds she was out of site.
I have been hunting for over 50 years having started with Dad at the age of 7. My sons and I hunt four states annually. If there is a better place to hunt whitetails I have not seen it, or even heard about it. Sure, there are places where the bucks get bigger racks, but Keith has a real honey-hole here. See several hundred deer a week, with 50-75 bucks? Snow capped mountains, great food, super guides, coyotes, grouse, moose, black bear, antelope, and on and on. Now that's just plain fun.
Bob Fritz
(Attached is a photo of one of Bob's sons the following year. The 1st snow of the season in early October usually brings out some bog bucks!)
