I hunted this single buck for three days, seeing him several times but never getting within range before he busted me. On the morning of the third day (knowing I was two hours from home and had to be at work by noon). I dedicated myself to getting one last chance at the elusive 8-point big body bruiser.
I put on my work clothes beneath my blaze orange and camo and sat freezing at the crest of a ravine in the pre-dawn darkness. I heard the buck checking a scrape about a hundred yards away, but I was below the ridgeline and daylight hadn’t made it down upon me yet. As the buck slowly worked his way along an 18-inch shelf below me, I slowly eased the safety off and sat motionless, clinging to my gun with one arm and a tree with the other so I didn’t slide down the ravine.
Gradually the beast walked within ten feet of me, never looking up or suspecting a man could possibly be so close. As I divided the buck’s shoulder blades in my site, a huge orange fireball erupted from the end of my gun as I touched him off and watched the buck roll all the way to the bottom of the ravine. It took me the rest of the morning to drag the 200-pounder up the hill, and this photo was shot about 30 seconds before I threw the buck in the bed of my truck and headed up I-71, directly to work!
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