Rich Akin
2023

The frozen leaves crunching under my boots were loud enough to alert all wildlife in the Adirondack Park that I was on the move. Trying to avoid the leaves by stepping on what was mud yesterday was even louder, as today it was frozen and crystalized and not muffled. It is frustrating in these conditions, but all we can do is accept it and realize that anything else that will be moving will also be just as loud. I like my brother Gary’s approach that he uses. Obviously, in these conditions, we cannot walk quietly, but we can attempt at making the noise sound like a walking deer. Several steps, pauses, some pawing or kicking some leaves, and even a few blats. Anything is better than creating a steady two step rhythm that even we as hunters can usually recognize as a person walking.

I was now on my 12^th straight day of being in the woods. There had been two or three days of light snow, just an inch or so to cover the ground and brighten up the woods which really makes it easier to see deer. It had also been a great confidence builder to see fresh tracks and scrapes, as well as a few beds during my still hunting walks. Four guys including my brother Glen were at camp when I had arrived on Thursday the 9^th and had been hunting a few days. A couple of them left that weekend and Glen hunted with me till Tuesday and left Wednesday back to sunny Florida. I was glad he had made it up these past two years in November. He is an avid trout fisherman and for the past 15 years or so has come up only for spring and fall fishing trips. He spent many years getting his buck every year in the NY southern zone including many with the bow. They had seen several deer and found some good buck sign, but no shots had been fired. I was communicating daily with Gary, who was hunting out of his camp up in St Lawrence County with his son Aaron. I had been truly fortunate to have had the wonderful experience of being with him and Gary back in 2018 when Aaron took his first Adirondack buck. See his story on the site “Something Special.”

As usual, I had made the earlier trip up this fall back in October for the last few days of the Muzzle Loader season and the opening of Rifle. I have always enjoyed walking the colorful woods in October while the leaves are falling and seeing the seasons change right in front of me. To be honest, we have not had a lot of success during this time of the season, but we often find out where a few bucks have been hanging out and what oaks and beeches are dropping mast this year. Finding them has helped us many years in November. There are several large tracts of State Land in close driving range to the camp that we hunt, and these early season days provide us a fantastic opportunity for scouting and getting our legs and lungs tuned up. We are all getting older, the mountains are not getting taller, we are thankful and fortunate to still be able to get “back in” to some of our favorite areas by using the many trailheads. We rely heavily on our ability to understand topo maps, which we carry in our packs, and we are all confidant in our use of the handheld GPS and a compass for backup. Cell service in most of the areas we hunt is very weak at best.

The past few days it was becoming clear that the rut was in full swing. I had seen a few bucks acting like they were looking for does on my way into town. Two nights earlier I stumbled upon two bucks fighting on my walk out well after shooting light had faded. Just yesterday I jumped a big deer out of his bed and caught a glimpse of a horn as he bolted out of sight. When I found his bed, I could easily detect a strong smell of tarsal glands! Gary was also reporting grunting and chasing bucks at his camp, and he had let a small buck walk the day before. It was time to be spending full days in the woods, which was my plan again today as I crunched my way up the mountain trail to my cutoff location. My plan was to hunt my way to the area I wanted to watch from downwind. The forecast was calling for 3-6 inches of snow this evening and I figured after a full breakfast, I’d get positioned in place to be able to watch a long ridge of Beech trees that also caught a lot of midday sun where I had found several recent beds. There were also several large buck trees close by that had been shredded recently. I made my way slowly trying not to overheat but as always brought dry shirts and extra layers to change into once I got situated. Replacing a sweat dampened first layer T shirt with a dry one is a game changer on a cold breezy day if you plan to stay in till dark and be comfortable. Last night had been the coldest night so far with temperatures at sunrise being 16 degrees.

I got comfortable and fully settled in place, had my doe in estrus wicks hung and the breeze was moving it parallel with the ridge from my left to right down toward the lower ground in a ravine. I was thinking how I had hated how loud it was while walking in, but now I was loving it being able to quickly detect squirrels or anything else for that matter at two hundred yards out! This was turning out to be two years in a row that Gary and I had each been hunting solo. Like last year, we both had steady action going on at both camps that we both felt we were working well and zeroing in on bucks. It is hard to walk away from great buck sign that you have put effort and miles of walking into finding! This year, Tom would also be staying put in Colorado, as he had finally gotten drawn for a tag in an area, he had been trying to hunt for the past several years. We all were missing the hunting time together, but I know we were all supporting each other spiritually as we focused individually on what we were doing, and we all waited on “the call.”

Dave T, one of the camp regulars, had texted me early in the morning and said he would be coming up in the evening to hunt the snow tomorrow morning. Though I had enjoyed the alone time the past 7 days it would be nice to have camp company again. I was confidant in the spot I was set up in. There was one group of thick beech trees with low branches about fifty yards down in the ravine to my right side which I hoped would provide me cover if a deer approached from my side of the ravine directly at me. It also meant that I would only hear them and then they would be right there in front of me.

Several hours passed and it was now a little after noon, and I had a quick lunch. The skies were darkening and clouding up with the approaching snowstorm. The damp air and steady breeze had already convinced me to add another layer and then I heard a deer approaching! Judging the sound, it was approaching steadily but out of my sight from behind the beeches to my right. Realizing things were going to happen quick, I moved the .270 into place and snugged it firmly to my shoulder. A few seconds later there it was, or should I say there he was! Quartering up hill, toward me with a slight right to left angle, he was not wasting anytime! Instantly, I could see his horns were out past his ears, I would not look again! There was no more cover between us, and I found his boiler room in the scope and the .270 roared.

I could tell by the way he hunched and leaped to his right, that I had made a good shot. I quickly pumped another round in and on his third leap fired again. This time he went down. Good thing he did, as I worked the action on the .270 and attempted to pump another round into the chamber, the expended round would not eject! With a constant eye on him on the ground at about 70 yards, I frantically tried to eject and clear the round to no avail. He was down and had not moved, and all I could think of is now, is I only have knife!

I watched and waited for a solid ten minutes, still not knowing what exactly he had for horns. He had not moved at all, but I was not taking any chances with a broken rifle. If I were a smoker, I would have burned a half a pack in those ten minutes! I sent out a quick “Brown is Down” text to Gary, Glen, Tom, and The Crew. Texts with congrats and high fives were coming in nonstop! Folks who hunt the Adirondacks fairly, like the way we do, understand the effort involved. Gary called shortly after and could probably hear my heart pounding through the phone! I could not give him any more information about the buck other than he was down, and I could see him, he had not moved, and that my gun was jammed. I also let him know my location. After the call, I cautiously made my way down to the buck with a knife drawn! He was a nice wide racked 6 pointer with no brow tines. A beautiful buck. He had two broken off points on his rack, obviously from fighting, which will be fueling my fire all year in the hopes that I can catch up with one of his superiors. He was not the one that had been ravaging the big trees, but I was very proud of this buck and how hard I had worked for him. I sat down next to him and made my peace and as always thought about and appreciated Pop, my brothers, and all that had gone into this season culminating here. I pulled Pop’s knife out of my pack and got him field dressed and after several pictures began to drag him little by little back up the hill to the nearest skidder trail. I had not heard back from Dave T yet, being right at a mile from where I had parked, and with light snow just starting to fall, I was sure hoping he was on the Northway!

Dragging him by myself was tough. I was quickly reminded that I was not twenty-eight anymore and that there was no reason to be stupid. We have all read stories about hunters being found lying right there next to their buck! Once I had him to the trail, I had decided I was not moving him any further alone. Shortly afterward, Dave T did in fact check in! He was still 2 hours away but thought he would be able to make to my location right at dark. That was fine with me, as I planned to enjoy the next three hours just sitting next to a great Adirondack buck reflecting and appreciating everything that I have, and the ability to be able to have such great days like this in the Adirondack big woods.

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