Score: 170 4/8
Inside Spread: 19 5/8
L 4 4/8 R 4 4/8
L 23 3/8 R 23
Fence: Low Fence
Field Dressed Weight:
Moon: Waxing Gibbous Moon
Hunter Name: Clint Berny
Submitted Date: 3/25/2021
Here's the Story:
This past weekend I was after a buck we named G2, due to his weak G2 tines. We have been watching him since he was 3, and he never really had much for G2 tines. I was hunting out of a pop up blind that was set up a week prior. I had never stepped foot in this blind before, and I learned a valuable lesson because of that. I got in the blind to hunt on Saturday afternoon on 10/24, and sat down on the small, extremely uncomfortable stool that was in the blind. I looked out the window and realized that this stool was about a foot too tall. The only way that I would be able to draw my bow would be to get on my knees. I was more than a little aggravated by this, but, had I scouted the set up more thoroughly, I would have been better prepared.
At 4:10 I had 10-12 does and yearlings show up to the hand corn. By this time I felt like I had been sitting on the stool of death for about an hour, but in reality, it was 18 minutes. At 4:48, I decided that I had to move a little due to my backside falling asleep from sitting on the stool of misfortune. As soon as I moved I realized that I was busted. An older doe started stomping and had all of the deer that were present on high alert. She snorted and it blew all of them out of the area. I figured my hunt was a bust. I sat there thinking about the ways I would like to punish the sadist that designed this miserable excuse for a stool.
At 5:30, my target buck, G2 and three younger bucks walked out and started eating the hand corn that was the furthest away from the pop up blind. At 5:50, I decided it was time to kneel and get set up to draw my bow, and it was a pleasure to ditch the stool of death. Another problem was I realized the feeder had not gone off yet. Finally, G2 was at 35 yards, but he would not turn broadside for a shot. He slowly worked his way a few yards closer, and then turned broadside. My heart was pounding out of my chest as I slowly hooked my release on the string. At that moment, my dream of getting this buck with my bow died before my eyes. The feeder went off late, at 6:28, and G2 and the other bucks trotted back to the feeder that is 50 yards away. I felt more disappointed than I could imagine. My knee was killing me. I was fairly certain that every rock in South Texas was in the 12" area that I had been moving my knee around in while trying to find a soft spot in the dirt. I was about to move back to the stool of pain to sit out the remainder of my hunt in quiet agony when the group of does that I had spooked away decided to return at 12 yards to eat the closest hand corn. So I stayed kneeling on the roughest area of South Texas dirt that existed.
As I knelt and waited, one of the older does started standing on her hind legs and smacking all that entered her area that she was eating in with her front feet. I was pleased to see this, as it was taking the focus away from the sweat box of a pop up blind that I was kneeling in for the past 50 minutes. It was about this time that the bucks had cleaned up the corn at the feeder, and started moving slowly back towards me. I was pumped that I might just have another chance at G2.
As the bucks fed towards me, the does came even closer to the pop up blind. I was pleased when one of the younger bucks ran them off. G2 was hung up at about 41 yards, and was not moving any closer to me. I could hear the does stomping and was more than a little concerned that the old bag was going to spook the bucks away with another snort. The two younger bucks turned and started feeding back towards G2. As soon as this happened, the does returned to the hand corn at 12 yards. Finally, G2 started moving back in my direction. Once he was at 32 yards he turned broadside and started eating corn again. I was worried that one of the twelve does would see me draw my bow, and I knew I was going to have to make it a fast shot if they alerted on my movement. At 7:02 I slowly brought my bow up and drew for the shot. Not a single deer saw the movement. G2 was still at 32 yards and broadside. I let my 30 yard pin settle just behind his left shoulder and touched off the release. He jumped and trotted off like he had not a care in the world. All of the other deer spooked and left in a cloud of dust.
I could see my arrow sticking up out of the ground with the lit nock shining bright. I stepped out of the blind and walked to the arrow. I would have waited, but I had to see if there was good blood on the arrow. When I got to the spot of the impact, I could see that there was plenty of blood on the fletching. At this time my hands were shaking so violently that I could barely text one of the other hunters that I had shot G2. I saw there was some blood on the ground, and I backed away to let G2 die without spooking him.
When the other hunter came to pick me up 20 minutes later, we went to the arrow to start tracking. I was worried by the lack of blood and the frequency of the blood as we trailed him. We were finding blood splatter about every 8 yards, and it wasn't nearly enough to instill confidence in my shot placement. After working our way through most of the thorns and cactus in South Texas, we found him piled up about 80 yards from where I shot him. I may have lost my mind a little when I finally saw that he was done, and I had my biggest buck ever. I had him scored at Los Cazadores in Pearsall and he is 170 4/8". I am more than pleased with G2 and feel like I have my low fence buck of a lifetime.