The man steps out the door on to the screened in porch to be greeted by the whines from the chocolate lab that sleeps there. He tells her not today girl it’s a different game we seek. Stepping off the screened in porch his sight is hit by the hoar frost shimmering in the bright moon lite like a hundred thousand diamonds spilled from a diamond peddlers pack. He slowly walks across the lawn to the trail that takes him to the deer blind he has chosen to hunt that day over looking the creek and the old creek bed. It is nestled in a clump of wild dog wood bushes this year loaded with berries.
Soon he settles in the blind and pours a cup of coffee to cool as he watches the day light breaking about him. He hears a flock of turkeys deeper in the woods come off their roost then a rooster pheasant cackles Probably kicked out of its bed by another hunter.
Finally that huge orange orb starts peeking thru the trees and the first of the blue birds arrive to feast on the dog wood berries. Finally the first deer appears coming down the bank of the creek from the picked corn field next door. It is alert using its radar ears to listen to the sounds around it, licking her nose to gather fresh scent in to process for danger. Just seconds behind her is two more does a bit smaller than the first perhaps this springs fawns. They mosey along the creek going farther back in the woods where the pampas grass has a nice stand for the deer to bed in.
With in minutes 6 more does arrive and head for that pampas grass bedding area.
The radio the man carries cackles with the sound of his wife. She says there are two bucks out the living room window across the creek. One she says is a nice 4 point eastern count, the other is huge but she can’t say just how huge. The 4 point decides to go up stream and cross the road the bigger fellow she says is heading for the corn field.
Soon the man sees the big buck he is at the edge of the corn field private property. He watches it as it slowly travels in the direction the does have went but not on the creek bank. The man knows that soon that buck will be down as he has watched another hunter go to a blind about 200 yards down the fence along the corn field. He waited for the report of the gun as he watched the buck work his way along. By this time he had gotten a good look at the rack, not one with huge long tines but huge beams like the arms of a tackle on a foot ball team with 5 short tines about 2 inches long.
The report never came as expected, did the other hunter fall asleep? Was he texting his buddies or a girl friend perhaps.
That buck lived to show him self to the man one more time in the 15 day season but once again not allowing the man a shot.
Such is muzzle loader deer hunting in southern Michigan.
Edited by alleyyooper, August 15, 2014 - 07:30 AM.