Buck Fever

M

mr-geep

New member
After reading all of the "Whats the weirdest thing youve seen out hunting" stories, I seen some really great stories. How about some buck-fever stories? Would love to hear that I'm not the only one who has really blown it.
Heres mine;

Driving up to our hunting spot just at daybreak. My dad was sleeping in the passenger seat of the truck while I was driving on an old logging road. Suddenly a huge Muley buck ran across the road in front of us and into the trees. I slammed on the brakes, and said "Holy @#$%, did you see the size of that buck?"
My dad, waking up, had not seen it, but grabbed his gun and took off into the trees after it. I got out of the truck, stretched and then got my rifle out of the back window, thinking that deer was long gone by now.
Right about then, I heard some branches breaking, and thought it was Pop's coming back to the truck. I looked up to see that huge Muley standing broadside not 30 feet from me. I put a round in my .270 Winchester bolt action, brought it up and fired. The deer stood there looking at me. My Dad yells from down the hill "Did you get him?". I chamber a second round and fire. The deer stands there for a moment and starts walking down the road away from me. I fire a third time, and he gallops down the road about a hundred yards and stops broadside again just before going up the hill. I fire my fourth round and watch him disappear up the hill. Everytime I fire, Pops is yelling, "Ya get him?" and I'm thinking "Shut up before you scare him off!"
I walked around for 20 mins looking for blood in the snow. I knew I couldn't have missed at that range. Pops joined me and we looked together as I told him the story.
Then it occured to me....I don't ever recall looking through the scope. All I remember is looking at the biggest set of antlers I had ever seen in my life. Every other animal I've taken, I'd set the crosshairs carefully behind the shoulder, but I dont even remember seeing the crosshairs. If I had scope caps they probobly wouldve still been on the rifle....
Now everytime I shoot an animal, I consciensly think..."Steady your breathing, put the crosshairs where you want them, put your finger on the trigger...."
 
fast with his 94

once during mid day my uncle, his buddy and i were going to look at some dinosaur tracks down in a canyon near camp. as an after thought the buddy grabbed a model 94, and we took off on foot. as we came down along the edge of the canyon where the fossils were, a nice buck boiled out of the cedars. the buddy levered all of the rounds through the action without once firing a shot. after the buck was out of sight he asked if he had hit him. he had to be shown his live rounds before he could be convinced he had not fired a shot.
 
robhof

I was in a ground blind during crossbow season and watching a young buck just out of reasonable range, when I heard a grunt, multiple snorts and I swear, pawing at the back of my blind. I turned around and unzipped the door to come face to face with a large doe not 5 ft. from me, she ran, bleating all the way and I watched the field behind me come alive with fellow whitetails, leaving and bleating. I repositioned the blind, but never got any deer in close again that season.
 
All I remember is looking at the biggest set of antlers I had ever seen in my life.

O lordy, been there, done that! My first buck (a big 8 point Alabama whitetail), in retrospect I suppose I put the first two rounds in the air between his antlers as he bounced down the hill toward me. I really don't remember for sure, I was so rattled. All I could see was the rocking chair on his head.

But then I thought about having only two rounds left in the rifle, and how bad it would be to lose my shirt tail, and what a ribbing I would get, and how many years it would last. And it began to appear I was about to get trampled into the bargain as that big sucker came bouncing down the hill like a giant rubber ball.

And while the sawdust between my ears was smokin' all this time, ol' buck stopped broadside to me a few feet away. I still had the rifle up and on him, had a live round in the chamber, but I couldn't see anything through that scope but a gray blur. It was a fixed power Weaver 4X and he was too close for me to make anything out.

So I aimed down the side of the barrel to somewhere behind his shoulder and squeezed off the third round. When the '06 came down out of recoil, the buck was gone. Poof. Not there. Not running down the hill, not running across the hill, not running back up the hill- just vanished.

It was almost more than I could stand. I began to wonder if I had imagined the whole thing. But I walked over to where he had been, and there he was, dead as a doornail- rolled over on his back into a little gully that had washed into the side of that hill, just big enough to swallow him up so he couldn't be seen.

Everyone else assumed that since I shot three times, I had missed. But I didn't care, I needed help getting that big sucker back up out of that gully. I was glad when they showed up. I had been the first stander put on on that drive, so I was the last one picked up. If I hadn't had that deer down, that crowd would still be on my case about it.

That's been a loooong time ago, but every time I look at that big rack, I remember what it felt like to get rattled so bad. And still I feel for anyone else who 'gets the fever' too.

lpl
 
My BIL's brother retired from the army and joined our hunting party. One day he had a monster buck cross in front of him under 25 yards. He emptied his rifle in the air and was still trembling when we got back to him. I saw the buck running across the boggy meadow over 500 yards away and the rack was the largest I have ever seen. That was the last time he hunted with us. It hurt his pride that much without anyone even ribbing him, that after retiring with a commission he could get that excited over a deer.

Another, when my daughter 15 at the time had several run past her within 10 yards, she was shacking so bad she had to sit down, but that didn't work either. We had to take her for a walk to burn off the adrenalin:) she couldn't hold the rifle steady enough to even see through the scope as they bounded away:)
 
I got it bad in my mid thirties. It was a grand thing. See a buck and fall to pieces, just try to remember 'Breathe out of the side of your mouth, don't frost the scope'. Really would like to catch it again!

I sat on a hillside and watched a good buck walk through. Low and very wide white rack. Somewhere around ten points (eastern). Good mass close to 20 inch spread. In the vicinity of 190 to 200 pounds dressed. Tines only 6 inches long, maybe 7. Took a steady rest and pulled the trigger. I watched him leap three times and stop. I put the gun down to watch him fall. He stood a few seconds and walked away. He was out of range (sight) in a couple of seconds. As he walked away, he never really lined up in an opening, then he was gone.

Several missed deer later, I missed one near dark. The following spring I realized I had not seen muzzle flash. Blamed the gun and traded it. It actually worked for me. Now I wish I had that one back. Buck fever is as good as it gets. I miss it.;)
 
I was hunting on my uncle's property on opening day of gun season a few years back. It was a pretty slow day, and I hadn't seen anything yet. As I'm sitting there, I hear a racket up the hill, so I turn to watch and see what it is. I see a deer bounding through the woods heading down the hill toward me. As is usual, my heart starts beating, and I get completely turned and get my gun up, and wait. As I wait, I see the deer bound over a log, and I see it...the biggest rack I'd ever seen. My heart about beats out of my chest. I watch it jump into the trail up the hill, and put my bead just to the left of the tree at the corner of the path, waiting for him to come around. I see a flash of brown, I've got the bead on his bright white chest, and just as I'm about to squeeze the trigger, he snorts, his front feet hit the ground, and he takes a hard left into the thick trees, where I can only watch him run away down the gully and back up the other side. Gone.

I was waiting for him to turn broadside, and I learned that day, you take the shot when you get the chance, especially when they're already on the run.
 
fast with his 94
once during mid day my uncle, his buddy and i were going to look at some dinosaur tracks down in a canyon near camp. as an after thought the buddy grabbed a model 94, and we took off on foot. as we came down along the edge of the canyon where the fossils were, a nice buck boiled out of the cedars. the buddy levered all of the rounds through the action without once firing a shot. after the buck was out of sight he asked if he had hit him. he had to be shown his live rounds before he could be convinced he had not fired a shot.
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That's hilarious, did he keep his shirt-tails?:)
 
shirt tail

he lost a lot more than his shirt tail after the the story made it back to camp.
the worst thing about the deal was it happened at the first of the week, and tom got to hear about it all week.
 
once during mid day my uncle, his buddy and i were going to look at some dinosaur tracks down in a canyon near camp. as an after thought the buddy grabbed a model 94, and we took off on foot. as we came down along the edge of the canyon where the fossils were, a nice buck boiled out of the cedars. the buddy levered all of the rounds through the action without once firing a shot. after the buck was out of sight he asked if he had hit him. he had to be shown his live rounds before he could be convinced he had not fired a shot.
Click to expand...

That's the worst I seriously have ever heard.
 
I don't know if it counts as "buck fever" or not. It involves a doe.

First day of doe season. Southern sytle deer hunting with hounds. The huntmaster asked those who had already killed a deer that year not to shoot does, but to let them go by so those of us who hadn't killed a deer would have a chance.

Dogs jumped and headed my way. The fellow on the next stand, who had already killed a buck a few days before, stepped out into the edge of the woods road and signaled me.."She's coming your way." I gave him the "OK" sign and got ready.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, I saw a big doe coming through the woods. She ran right straight by me, about ten yards away. The Remington 1100 magnum came up, and cracked once. The deer didn't so much as jump at the sound. She kept right on going.

I stood there watching her run on by and out of of sight. I never thought about the other two shells in the gun. I was like, "She didn't die...how could I miss at that range?"

John the fellow who had let her go by yelled "Didyagether?" I yelled back XXXX NO!. He replied "What? HOW IN THE WORLD DID YOU MISS THAT DEER?" I have NO idea.

He came down to help me look for blood. None. Then there in the side of a little tree I spotted 11 neatly placed holes...about the size of 000 buckshot, the entire 3" magnun load. In a pattern that you could have covered with a coffee cup.

I remember that feeling, standing there with my gun to my shoulder, watching that deer run off and never thinking to shoot again. :D John never did let me forget it.
 
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