It was 11 degrees this morning when I parked the truck and headed into the woods. Luckily the air warmed up quickly and topped out at 38 degrees when I came out at noon to go back to camp to get a bite to eat before the afternoon sit. I spooked one out on my way into the stand. I never like doing that but sometimes it’s unavoidable.
About and hour after daylight I saw a beautiful buck that looked like a 9-pointer from a distance, but he could have been a 10. He was cruising along the fence line. I’m pretty sure it was the same buck I saw yesterday. I’m almost sure he’s the buck we named Joe Jr. after the buck Joe shot last year, which is a much larger scaled version of this buck.
I’ve had a scratch in my throat that doesn’t want to find a hiding place. In the middle of a coughing fit I scared three does away, which got under my skin a little bit. When you have limited time to hunt and you’re on vacation you don’t want stuff like that to happen.
As the minutes ticked by I had two more does and two fawns make their way down the ridge in front of me. I got ready just in case Mr. Big decided to follow them. Nothing followed, but I did see a good buck cross the field above me in search of does. He was headed toward the bedding ground around 10:30. I’m not sure if he was going over there to sniff around or if he planned on taking a break while catching a nap. Either way I hoped he would return.
I sat until 1 o’clock. I headed up to the knob for the afternoon since I hadn’t been up there yet. I sat in the knob saddle. There were some pretty impressive rubs all around me. I saw a handful of does and one small buck milling around in the corn field. A coyote made his way past my stand shortly after I got in the tree. He never offered a shot.
Dad sat in the South Plot again tonight. He saw three bucks and a few does. Only one day left. It looks bleak, but you never know. That’s why you hunt until the very end and give it everything you have. I’m hoping for a last minute miracle for one of us. It has happened before.