Gary R Akin

My cousin “Bird” and I had decided to spend Veteran’s Day morning up at Uncle Don’s territory. He called this area “Paradise” because there were several hiking trails winding along a ridge that rose above the river. This allowed quiet still hunting through the area that held a mix of hardwood (oak, beech, maple), and softwood (hemlock, spruce, pine).

I dropped Bird off at the trailhead that his dad liked to enter on. I would walk up the dirt road about a mile, then enter the woods and stillhunt the ridge back toward him with the wind in my face. It was a cold morning and the leaves were frozen and crunchy. A little warming and snow squalls were forecast for the afternoon. My thought was the wind direction might send a buck from Bird toward me…. or sounds of me moving might send one toward him.

When I reached the ridgeline I turned toward Bird and began my s-l-o-w progression. The terrain in front of me dropped off and I knew I had some humps and bumps in front of me. The wind was right on my nose and as I peered over a bit, there was a doe feeding calmly just 25 yards in front of me! I froze. I was mid stride as her head came up and looked directly in my direction. But I was already a statue, a one-legged statue.

She did the head bob routine. She put her head down and snapped it back routine. Nope! Not happening! I AM A STATUE! She did the foot stomp routine. Nope. Nothing here. I knew she couldn’t smell me and I was not going to move! Finally she settled down and went back to feeding calmly. When her head was behind a tree, I lowered my cramping leg and foot softly to the ground. It wasn’t long when I heard ANOTHER deer approaching from below and out of sight.

She had turned to face the approaching deer and I had already brought my rifle up to my ready position. And then I saw first the antler tips over the crest in the terrain. There was a crunch, then a bob, then more antler tips! Then another crunch, a bob, and the bucks head! His attention was on her, but she was between us. Another crunch, a bob, and his chest was in my cross hairs. I swear I saw his eyes bug out as he saw me! But my finger was already applying pressure to the trigger!

This was a buck that was going to the taxidermist. I even contemplated (briefly!) putting moose eyes in the mount because that was how vividly I remember those events. Bird and I had a hard job bringing him up the ridge. But it was pure satisfaction bringing that buck back to camp for Pop and Uncle Don to see. A great Veteran’s Day… again, at The Little Green Camp!

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