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I figured I'd give yall a rundown of my year. I'm sure not trying to pour salt in the wounds of others, just letting yall know theirs a bright side. I remember it wasn't that long ago I set in these East Tennessee hills and thought to myself I must be hunting the worst place on earth. I had only saw 4 deer throughout a whole season while on stand and I knew something had to change. I love being in the outdoors and it was great but I wanted to see more deer.( Before I forget I just want to say I was no beginner at this point in my hunting career. I had done shot a 150 inch buck had 3 nice ones on the wall and had killed a pile of others. But I had to travel for such opportunities.) Now getting back to the story. I realized that it was time for me to change the way I hunt. The first thing I did was started knocking on doors where I knew deer had to be. I got turned down on every single one. But I didn't give up. See the thing about where I live, is it's not known for deer hunting but if theirs a spot where a few deer live it's more than likely already hunted by some of the owners family and friends. I'm not sure I know of an actual lease land in the county. Also no one comes from miles away to hunt here. The more I thought on this is the more I thought their had to be one special pocket somewhere I was overlooking. So I mapped out a spot that was away from where I knew a lot of hunting was at. I'm talking miles and miles. I didn't even look in those areas anymore. It was useless. Although I do still hunt old spots on certain occasions, I needed somewhere that wasn't ever looked at. A place the hunters would think no reason to go out that way, theirs not many deer and their sure isn't big deer. Luckily for me I was use to that. I didn't need to see many. I just needed to see the right ones. So one day as I drove by an old farm, hardly any woods at all, and a pasture that nearly had no grass I saw the farmer out on his tractor. He was headed to his hay field. That field seemed like the only grass growing anywhere around that was suitable for nutrition and not just filling up a belly. It was about a 10 acre bottom that bordered an old thicket. It was a spot I picked earlier but I drove around this area a lot and had never saw a deer there. I thought what's the harm I was going to give it a shot. I asked if I could bow hunt and I'd only shoot 1. He laughed and told me that he doesn't allow hunting around his animals. But for the next year me and him struck up a friendship and I didn't even worry about hunting it anymore until one day he told me had seen a nice buck in the bottom. So I asked again, this time getting a yes, but don't tell a soul where you hunt he said. So I hunted 4 times that year and seen 3 does. I was back to square one. But I had one picture of a dandy 8. The following year which was last year I made up for all the bad East Tennessee deer hunts of old. I had found a great spot and only hunt it on certain days when the wind is right. I also only walk in on one trail and hunt a single tree that situates between the thickets. Last November in muzzleloader I killed my first deer off the property. He was an old 133 inch 12. I was tickled to death. The old farmer seemed to be as excited as I was. He asked if I had another tag and if so go shoot another. I went back in rifle and killed my biggest 8 to date with 130 inches on his head. I couldn't believe it. Fast forward to this year and it was no different I started seeing a nice 8 about a mile down the road and thought I may try to velvet hunt. I had never killed a big buck with a bow nor had I shot a velvet buck. But as luck would have it on the opening morning of velvet, he showed up with 3 other bucks one being a nice thick horned 8. They were walking away but I knew I had saw a doe in my little honey hole for the past 2 weeks on camera. So I thought I'd just hit the bleat as desperation set in. They all turned and walked my way. I lost them for about 5 minutes but when they appeared they were within 100 yards working towards me. I've never shook that bad. It had now been 20 minutes of shaking and trying to calm my nerves. The thick horned buck walked within 15 yards but I wanted the wide one. So I pulled back knowing he was about 30 yards and let the arrow fly. I felt good about the shot but he ran gracefully up the hill. My heart sank not knowing how good the shot was. But then he wobbled and was down after a short 50 yard dash. I couldn't believe it had happened again at a deer that was so far away that I had no pics of and I had already tagged him within an hour or so of the opening morning. He was another 130 inch 8 that had a 19 1/2 inch inside spread. After this I knew I was in a special spot but I raised the bar and looked to find a deer I had hunted for a couple years prior in which I only had trail cam pictures of. It was at my other spot, that lot of other people can hunt around. It was back to the old grind of not seeing nothing much and getting frustrated with other hunters. I ended up going to Indiana to hunt which was a disaster, I've never heard so many shots in my life and seen so many young deer get killed but it was public land and I'm all for anybody to kill what they want. The bad part was I just couldn't get away from hunters. It was slap ate up with big buck sign though and some big deer were killed just not by me or my buddy. So back home I came only to find out while in Indiana the big buck I'm after here gets killed. He was a monarch. He scored 147 as a mainframe 8, which is unheard of around these parts. I'm happy for the other hunter but disappointed I don't get to chase him anymore all at the same time. Which brings us to thanksgiving morning. The wind was strong almost to much but it was blowing the right direction. I got up, got ready and went to head out the door but unlike all the other times, I realized my release wasn't clipped onto my bow. I looked everywhere that morning and was defeated. I was looking forward to trying to kill another nice one with a bow. I knew I couldnt hit the broadside of a barn off hand shooting, so I decided to not go. I was talking to my wife as she was preparing for the dinner we were having at 12 and by this time the sun was up and dad had came over to drink coffee. He asked why I wasn't in the tree. I explained and he told me to just get the rifle quit worrying about how and what and go have fun doing what I love. He was right and I was thankful for the kick in the butt. I got to my little spot very late but within an hour I saw a doe bust out tail straight out. I got ready. He was on a dead sprint behind her and I knew he was big. I clicked the safety off the 264 win mag and I stopped him at 150 yards with a very loud, HEY! He slightly quartered to me and I shot. It was perfect as he went down after 50yards. As I got to him I realized he was the thick horned 8 that was with my velvet buck. Again I had shot a big 8 and he ended up scoring 126 with 6 inch bases. Mass was all over him and he was older than I thought. I got a little emotional as I sat there realizing how God had blessed me again. The last 4 times I had been in this spot I had shot 4 bucks all being over 4.5 years old and all being what most all hunters would call wall hangers. Crazy to think just a few years ago I had only seen 4 deer in the woods all year. Since that year which was 2016 (my worst hunting year) I've shot a lot of deer and some great bucks. This one in particular sure will be hard to beat. Attached is the 4 bucks killed that's in the story.
