Posts Tagged whitetail deer

Hunting Gear Review: Game Glide

Faced with the task of dragging a deer out of a cornfield, what better way to put the Game Glide to a test. And test it we did.

My buck was down inside a corn field and we had to get it out, the farmer was due to harvest soon. It was difficult to maneuver in the field as the corn was over six feet tall. I managed to get the deer on the Glide and get it tied up. Keith had gone to get the truck and trailer closer to where we were. Once he got back to where I was, we started dragging.

It really seemed to go pretty well, still difficult, but we were moving. I’m not sure how far we had to go to get to the edge of the field, it seemed pretty far and its hard to gauge distance when all you can see are cornstalks.

At one point, it was very difficult going. We were really laboring to move the deer. We stopped to catch our breath (I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest) and noticed the deer had rolled and the Glide had moved up the side. We repositioned everything, tightened up the cords and were on our way again.

The going was much easier. I can truly say that without the Game Glide, we would probably have given up. I’m not sure the two of us could have gotten that buck out of the corn field without it. It really did make a difference. Keith has drug deer for years (he’s been doing this for a lot longer than I have) and he was even surprised at it.

Now I’m not saying it didn’t take work, we still had to put some muscle into it. But the difference between when the deer was on it and when it wasn’t was amazing. Yeah, it was definitely noticeable.

I give the product a thumbs up. The guys at Game Glide have created an excellent piece of gear!

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Notes From the Field, Fall Muzzleloading Season, Final Report

The Kansas Muzzleloading season has come and gone again. This year was slightly better than last year’s hunt. I did shoot a dear this, but I didn’t find it until the next morning. So, still no venison in the freezer.

I made a really stupid green horn mistake and didn’t follow the trail to its end. I happened to see another buck run out of the corn and thought it was my the one I had shot. Same size, running the same direction mine was. I just assumed it was mine. I followed the running deer and searched for an hour for that trail. We finally gave up in the dark. The next morning, I backtracked and came across the deer.

So yes, I’m extremely disappointed. No meat. That’s the main reason I go out. It seemed like such a waste.

On the plus side, I did make my shot. And it was a good shot I must say.

I’m taking my daughter out in December for her first deer hunt. I will probably pick up a game tag when I go along with her. Looking forward to shooting the Marlins.

Hopefully, Keith will have better luck as he finishes out the season this weekend.

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Deer Hunting with an Original Spencer Rifle

The title sounds pretty cool doesn’t it. It would be, if I had actually taken a deer with it! You see, I am writing to you as a failed hunter.

I am deerless for the Kansas rifle deer season of 2009 and it’s my own fault. See I had this plan; I was only going to shoot a big buck if the opportunity presented itself during muzzle loading season. Because my plan, was to shoot a deer (any deer) with my original Spencer 56-50 rifle during rifle season.

Plains Hunter, dedicated to hunting with historical weapons, I thought my plan would be cool, right?

So I was not upset when I did not get a deer during Muzzleloading season.

Flash forward to Opening evening of rifle season. I’m on the stand when a really nice buck (the one Bill missed during ML season) presents itself 135 yards out. I draw a bead and fire. A clean miss. I forgot to take into account the 183 MPH cross wind. Some where in Oklahoma a farmer is thinking “How did I get that giant bullet hole in my John Deere”?).

One hour later two smaller bucks, a spike and a ragged six point, run down the hill 20 yards to my right and stop 30 yards in front of me. This is where my plan went south. I start thinking: “You know… that big buck will probably be back… It’s only the first day of rifle season… It would be a shame to end the season sooo soon.”

Meanwhile, Dad and Jim are hunting without much success.

Bill arrives Thursday and begins his tragic battle with Buck Fever. In Bill’s case Buck Fever doesn’t properly describe it. Is there such a thing as Buck Cancer? Or at least Buck H1N1? Seriously Bill should see someone. If cost is an issue maybe the Shriners can help. I don’t believe anyone should have to suffer like that. Three shots, ALL at BUCKS! Not a single doe shot. Deer know, I swear they know! If a deer can sniff out Buck Fever maybe they can sniff out other deadly diseases. I think I’m on to something here. I’m going to contact the Mayo Clinic.

Speaking of animals with extraordinary abilities; Every time I walked to any deer stand, carrying only a rifle, a pheasant would flush perfectly; RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!

But while pheasant hunting just a month ago, carrying a shot gun, DEER WERE FLUSHING EVERYWHERE! They Know!… I’m telling you they know!… DON’T CALL ME CRAZY! THEY KNOW!

Uh hem.. I digress. A few days into the season I’m hunting on a different stand. Two does, a shooter buck, and the FATHER OF ALL MONSTER BUCKS is standing thirty yards away. Then the Monster walks within twenty yards and TURNS BROAD SIDE! Then he stands on his hind legs and FLIPS ME OFF! WHY? Because he is a MULE DEER and I have a WHITE TAIL ONLY license! My Dad has an either species license and Bill has an either species license. I change stands so Dad or Bill will get a shot at the muleys. Neither one sees them. After Dad and Bill return home, I return to the stand and the mule deer are BACK! I’M TELLING YOU THEY KNOW!

Slightly changing the subject, I’m not much of a tech guy, Bill can tell you that. But before deer season, I decided I just HAD to have a range finder. So I bought one. Pretty neat little gadget. That’s how I know I missed that buck at 135 yards. Seems like I paid a pretty steep price for a gadget that’s only usefulness is to tell me how far away the deer was that I missed.

wes with doeI bought another item I thought would be a lot handier. I bought a set of insulated coveralls. And they are pretty nice, warm. The problem is that I have always worn a size XL. So I bought a size XL. I’ve packed on a few pounds lately (Noo problem I’ll lose the weight after the holidays, like I planned last year). I sure don’t want coveralls that are too big. So ultimately I paid a pretty steep price for coveralls that fit like a scuba suit. Which wouldn’t be so much of a problem, but I didn’t try putting a rifle to my shoulder wearing my scuba suit until I was sitting on the ground at my deer stand. Consequently, if …I lean back… Juuust righhht… and stretch my arm just sooo…and lean my head waaay down… I can kind of get a sight picture and almost reach the trigger at the same time.

Ultimately Dad saved us from getting skunked by shooting a white tail doe. He shot it with his 50-95 1876 Winchester (I personally think Dad just put a Sheriff’s Office salvage tag on a doe that was killed in a collision with an 18 wheeler.) That 50-95 messed that deer up!

1876 winchesterThe second week of deer season a cold front moved in. One would think in this day and age of high technology the weather forecasters would have better instruments. Our local weatherman stated the temperature was down into the single digits. I know for a fact that the on my stand the average morning temperature actually hovered around 77 degrees below zero. I’m not kidding, cold like that would have killed a normal man.

On the last Saturday I took a friend and two of his sons out hunting. One of his boys shot a button buck with an M-14 with iron sights at 200 yards (I know it was 200 yards because I used my rangefinder!). An M-14 is a historical rifle, kind of.

The final Sunday of the season I rested against a fence post looking out over a milo field and watched a beautiful western Kansas Sunset. I even relaxed smoking my pipe. The wind was in my face so I wasn’t concerned anything behind me would scent me anyway. The light was fading fast so I decided to hunt my way back to the truck and leisurely set about securing my items and stood up. Just in time to see the whitetails fifty yards BEHIND me hauling away. WHAT THE *#@+!! THEY KNOW! I’m telling you THEY KNOW!!

On the plus side the very historical former chicken coop (I’m not kidding) now hunting lodge has come a long way this year. We have a fridge so we no longer have to deal w/ice for beverages, food etc. And we have a TV and DVD player. Now I know many of you are saying that watching TV ruins the historical atmosphere of our hunting experience. Not True! We only watch WESTERNS! John Wayne shooting Comanches, just after the Civil War with a 94 Winchester is very authentic and only enhances our western hunting lifestyle!

If you enjoyed hearing our tales of woe, send your tragic hunting stories to Plains Hunter. Don’t send tales of your amazing success, we don’t want to HEAR IT!

The LUM

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I’ve Got A Fever… Buck Fever That Is

I just finished my third season deer hunting and I’m having a hard time deciding how I feel about the outcome it. For the most part, I’m very disappointed. I came home empty handed after spending about eight days in the field altogether between the two seasons. And that doesn’t even count my scouting time out there. But on the other hand, I experienced a lot of pretty cool things. So let me start from the beginning.

I started out in September during Kansas’ muzzleloading season. We had scoped out a couple of good looking spots, seen some deer and lots of sign. My first four days of that season were a bust. The prairie seemed to swallow all the deer we had seen through out the summer. I went back out the last weekend of muzzleloading season only to blow a great shot at a 10 point just 30 yards out. I won’t go through it again, you can read about it here.

OK, learn my lessons, spend some more time at the gun range, there’s always rifle season in December.

Two long months later I’m back out in the field. I’m still using the 50 caliber plains rifle as I have a muzzleloader only any species tag. My first morning out, I go back to the spot of the blown September shot and sure enough, I rattle an eight point in right at sun up.

It was my first time with rattling. Plus I wasn’t sure if there was still enough rut going on for it to work. The whitetail buck came up from my right (south of me) and I was looking away for the most part as generally, the deer come from the north on this stand. I didn’t realize he was even there until he was about 10 feet from me. I realized he was there when I saw deer tail running away from me. He ran about 30 yards out up on top of the ridge, stopped and watched me from head on.

Now, it took me a few minutes to get my heart out of my throat. Well, actually, I never did. The buck shook me so much by just appearing like that. It’s amazing how they can appear like phantoms some times. So now the buck is just standing there watching me and I’m trying to do a 180 degree turn so I can get my rifle up on him. And how is it they always come up from the way I’m not looking?

It took me a few minutes of moving very slowly between times of him looking away or down. I was moving in fractions of an inch sometimes. I finally get to where I’ve got him in my sites, but I’m a nervous wreck after all that and my heart is still beating like mad in my ears. Plus, he’s still head on at me. I’m a little panicky because I can’t decide where to aim. I know what to do when they’re broadside, but hadn’t considered a head on shot. So I just keep aiming and waiting to see if he’ll turn.

He finally turns and gives me a beauty of a shot. I aim… BLAM! He disappears over the ridge and I sit and wait for a minute then decide to belly crawl up the ridge so I can see over. I glass him down in the valley (or what passes for one in SW KS) and watch him for about 15-20 minutes. I watch him lay down in this draw and I’m elated thinking I took him down.

I mark the spot, sit down and drink a cup of coffee. Take care of some other business (you know) and decide to go investigate. I marked him about 300 yards out. I’m getting a little nervous walking towards him because I’m not picking up a blood trail but hope that maybe he ran a little erratic rather than the direct route I’m going. I’m walking up to the spot I marked only to see him jump up and run off over another ridge (in a field I don’t have permission on). He had jumped a fence prior to laying down, so I back track to see if I can pick up a blood trail but I can’t find one. I go back to where I shot at him and can’t pick up one there either. I missed again.

I managed to rattle another buck in the next evening at another stand. This one was a smaller mule deer, probably a 3×3 (which still looks pretty impressive). I was amazed it worked really. He came in over a ridge and was very cautious. I could only see him from the neck up for quite awhile. Funny thing, as soon as I saw his head, my heart is banging back in my ears again. I’m trying to calm myself down but all I can think is “here we go again” and for a moment, I almost decide to not shoot. Not sure I can take the disappointment of missing again.

But that only lasts for a moment.

I try to settle down as he approaches my stand. I’m going through all the stuff to remember… aim off his shoulder… keep it low… squeeze don’t pull… calm down, you know what to do. You know, all the stuff everyone tells you to do.

Finally the buck is broadside and in my sweet spot again, probably just under 40 yards. I set up my shot, squeeze the trigger… BLAM! The muley scampers off back the way he came. And no blood trail again. I look for quite awhile but the sun had since gone down. I can’t find anything remotely looking like a blood trail.

Dejected, I walk back to deer camp. I actually think about telling everyone I didn’t see anything, but I come clean. The next morning I go back out for the last time this year. This is it. About an hour after sun up the rain and sleet starts coming down. Black powder doesn’t do to well in the wet. The stuff wasn’t supposed to show until later in the day and I didn’t have any of my rain gear with me. I walk back to camp again truly disappointed.

I’ve thought about those three missed shots a lot and played them over in my head again and again trying to figure out what I did wrong. I’m sure it all comes down to my marksmanship. I’m totally amazed that I was able to rattle those two bucks in, that was first and definitely a thrill.

All three times I had a hard time getting my breathing under control and that heart-beating-in-my-ears thing is a bit distracting when trying to concentrate on shot placement. The other thing that I’m wondering is if I’m just not that confident with this rifle yet. The doe I took during my first season hunting was with my Enfield and I had put a ton of lead down range with it before taking it out in the field. I’m pretty confident with shot placement on that gun. Not so much with the Plains rifle. I’ve shot a lot with it, but I’m no where near as confident with it compared to the Enfield.

So that’s what I’m going with and that’s what I’m going to work on before next September in 2010. I’m planning on doing some work to it, changing the sites to a more traditional site and reworking the stock finish. Hopefully the new sites will help and I can get more comfortable with it.

So my seasons over, there isn’t any meat in the freezer – at least not venison. But, I’ll be back next year, because I’ve got a fever and the only cure is more deer hunting.

Keep your powder dry and “watch your top knot”.

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Deer Hunting With The Northwest Trade Gun

So Bill asked me to post a story of hunting with my North West trade Gun. First the history lesson. I hope this doesn’t sound too lame or condescending.

What is commonly known as the North West Trade Gun (NWG) was developed around 300 years ago by, you guessed it, The Northwest Company! It was designed to be a cheap weapon to trade with native populations around the world.

The NWG was a smoothbore flintlock made by various manufacturers in calibers ranging from .45 (.410 gauge, I know .410 is a caliber not a gauge) to around .72 caliber (12 Gauge). The NWG was crudely made, wood to metal fit was poor; the stock was almost strait. The butt was strait. The butt plate was nailed on with horse shoe nails and the wood had no figure.

However, the lock was made from the same molds as the British Brown Bess musket. The NWG was (contrary to pop literature), easy to use, quite “pointable” and very reliable. It had to be. A gun in the farthest reaches of the Canadian wilderness which did not fire due to lack of maintenance etc. was not going to be of much use to a native whose livelihood and life depended on it.

The NWG can be recognized by the distinctive brass serpent on the off side from the lock. The brass serpent was a sign of quality to native populations. Old photos even show natives wearing the serpents around their neck for adornment (kind of like 1980’s rappers wore Mercedes symbols around their necks).

Well it appears I write the same way I talk (too much). So I’ll just move on to a description of my NWG and tell you about my hunt.

I bought my NWG from North Star West which makes an excellent kit. My father, Wes Lumry put it together for me and the only way it differs from an original is in the fit & finish. My dad has been building muzzleloading rifles for forty years. The fit and finish is probably the best of any NWG in history!

My NWG is .65 caliber (16 gauge). Keeping with Native American tradition we cut the barrel from 36″ to 30″ (That KILLED my dad!). Then we hammered tacks all over it. Dad mad a leather/red wool sling for it also.

The first hunting season I had my NWG was also the first season I decided to “hunt only for horns.” That’s right, this year I was holding out for a MONSTER BUCK!

The first evening of muzzleloading deer season I walked across the road from my house to a corn circle (do you like the way I casually let the reader know I live in the middle of hunting paradise!?). And settled in to a corner. I was soon surrounded by 18 (I am not kidding) does and one spike buck. I just sat there putting a bead on various deer and thinking of where I would place my shot if indeed that deer was a MONSTER! Ultimately the sun set and I returned home and reported the evening’s activities to my dad (visiting from Wichita).

The next morning me and my old man walked to the same corner of field. Soon three does appear walking from west to east. The set up is about perfect. The sun is at our backs, no wind, and deer coming strait to us.

But remember, I am only hunting horns. I’m waiting for the MONSTER! The does stop short and begin grazing about 40 yards in front of us.

The following conversation takes place over approximately the next 15 minutes (cut to hunting show TV whispers).

DAD– Hey Keith, you gonna shoot one of those deer?

KEITH– No dad they’re does. I’m holding out for a buck!

DAD– I think you should shoot one of those does.

KEITH– I told you I’m going to shoot a buck, it’s only the second day of the season!

DAD– I think you should shoot one of those does!

KEITH– No response.

DAD– Hell, I built that gun! I should at least get to see you shoot one of those does!

KEITH– No response.

DAD– Go ahead, shoot one of those does!

DAD– I can’t believe you’re not going to shoot one of those does!

DAD– After I built that gun for you…

Meanwhile those does are still THERE! By now dad is yelling at me (okay, not really, but you know what I mean).

DAD– I’m not getting any younger. I don’t know how many hunting seasons I have left….

(Okay, so he probably didn’t say that last line, but it was definitely implied!).

DAD– Go ahead, I want to see you shoot one of those does with that smoothbore flintlock.

DAD– That I built!

Damn those does! They’re still there! They’re sooo close! And Dad WILL-NOT-STOP-TALKING!!!

I break like a number 2 pencil.

I throw my Northwest Trade Gun (which DAD built! Did I mention that?) to my shoulder put a bead on the nearest doe and fire. The world is consumed by smoke, sparks and fire. I can’t see…

YOU GOT HER! Yells dad.

I pace off forty yards to a huge splash of blood.

I am on the edge of the corn circle, the scene is somewhat macabre. On both sides of the corn stalks it looks like someone has entered the standing corn with a garden hose in each hand spraying blood. The ball must have gone clean through. I am so fascinated that I almost step on the deer.

So I’m standing over the deer with mixed emotions. The NWG had performed flawlessly and was massively lethal. I had a successful hunt. My dad was fit to bust over the performance of “HIS” gun. But it’s only the second morning of muzzleloading deer season and my hunt is over. With no MONSTER BUCK!

Oh well at least that corn fed doe was delicious.

And I could always hunt for horns the next year… but that’s another story.

Lum

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Five Things I’ve learned Deer Hunting

deeringoldengrass

Since I’m still fairly new to this deer hunting thing, I thought I might lay out a few things I’ve picked up that no one seems to tell a new hunter about. Hopefully, this can help other greenhorns out.

  1. Check the weather – religiously. I seem to constantly under-dress for the elements. And check the weather for where you’re going to hunt, not where you live as they could be different. The weather conditions can differ fairly significantly from where I live and where I hunt, and it’s only a 3 hour difference. Bring more cold weather gear than you’ll think you need, because you’ll need it. You can take stuff off if you get hot, you can’t put stuff on when you get cold if you didn’t bring it.
  2. Sorry for being a little gross, but clear all the phlegm and mucus out before you head out to your stand. Nothing is more loud than clearing your throat when the sun comes up in the morning.
  3. Learn to sit still. This is still hard for me to do. Don’t jump and look around at every little noise, most likely it’s not a deer, but the sudden movement can tip them off if they’re sitting in the margins looking around.
  4. In the area I hunt, the deer definitely have have schedules. They seem to wander through the same fields and waterholes about every 2-3 days. This last season, the buck I missed was on a 3 day schedule. Keith picked it up, predicted they’d show that Saturday night, and they did. I had suspected this, and started watching this myself. Other hunters I’ve talked to have said the same thing. But I don’t hear anyone talk about it, even in the hunting magazines. Now if I can just figure out 2 stands that have deer traffic on alternate days, that would be awesome.
  5. This one is the most important, especially to the married guys. Thank your wife for keeping the fort under control while you’re out. Thank her a lot. Really. Let me say it one more time, thank your wife for keeping the house and family under control while your out hunting. A simple thank you will go a LONG way. Believe me. I can’t say this one enough. My wife’s awesome. She let me go hunting on our wedding anniversary. Yes, I said “let.”

Those are just a few things I’ve picked up the last couple of hunts. What other tips have you picked up along the way? Leave your tips in the comments.

Image courtesy of Free Nature Pictures.

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Fall Deer Camp 2009 Revisited

Sunrise on the final Saturday

Sunrise over the waterhole on the final Sunday of the season.

I was able to make it for the final weekend of Muzzleloading Deer Season in hopes that I still might be able to get a shot. But, not being able to leave until after work on Friday, I was only going to get a day and half to hunt. The weather proved to be ideal for the hunt. A cold front moved in Friday night and couple that with a full moon and a clear night, the conditions to get the deer moving.

I did see a lot of deer that morning, all whitetails. Unfortunately, they all stayed out of the field I was in and ran the fences to the north and east of me (which we don’t have permission to hunt). A couple of does started to venture in, but were startled by something and changed their mind.

I left around mid-morning to grab some lunch. I had planned on coming back out later in the afternoon as their were a pair of whitetail bucks that seemed to be coming to the water hole every 3 days in the evenings. I’ve observed this behaviour before, noticing that deer seemed to be on some type of schedule like that and would be seen every 2-3 days. Saturday would be the third day for this pair of bachelor bucks. My hunting buddy and I set back out around 5 to see if it would hold true.

I started to get apprehensive as sunset approached and we hadn’t seen anything up to then. But like clockwork, the two bucks showed about 5 minutes after sundown, rounding a ridge just to the north of our stand. We were sitting in a washout on the side of ridge about 10 feet above a couple of paths leading up to the windmill watering hole.

We watched the bucks pick the closest path to us and realized they were going to pass within 30 yards of out stand. My heart and breathing is racing at this point. My first shot at a buck! I mean, I’m really panting, like I had run a marathon. I’m getting worried they’re going to hear me. My mind is screaming at me, “Don’t move! Sit still! Why are you breathing so hard?”

I pick my shooting lane. I wait until the biggest of the 2 clears a large sunflower plant I’m sitting behind. I see his head, his shoulders. I pick my spot. Wait. Squeeze.

The buck flinched, did a 180 and put the spurs down. My partner had waited for me to take the shot. I hear his ring out and see the puff of dust in a slight ridge over the top of the buck’s back. He’s at full gallop, his white tail flying high. We had both missed!

I have no excuses, total newbie, greenhorn mistake. My buddie’s shot was a running shot. When I fired, he was barely moving. And I should’ve waited a couple more seconds to get a good broadside. Instead, in my excitement and nervousness, I took a quartered shot and probably went underneath him. How disappointing! It was like I had forgotten everything when I sighted that buck in.

We went back out Sunday morning, but nothing seemed to be moving. We left around 10 as I had to get my gear packed up to head back home. The season was over. I still had loads of fun and learned much. And I still have December to give it another try. Like I’ve said before, it’s why they call it hunting and not getting. Hopefully, I’ll have a chance to redeem myself in December.

Keep your powder dry.

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