[the possum]

Had a good time this year during our first two gun seasons. Muzzle loader season is still this weekend, but I’ve got enough meat that I’m not too worried about it.

First season was 3 weekends ago now. The first morning, I sat in one of our woods north of Spook Bridge. After it got light, I noticed there was another hunter only 80 yards away from me just across the neighbor’s property line. That afternoon I sat in a different stand, and the neighbor shot a nice 8 point buck that was across the line on our property, only 20 yards from where I had been sitting. Dad was sitting in another stand across the creek a short ways, and witnessed the whole thing. He was pretty mad about it, especially when the kid wanted to borrow our 4 wheeler to get the deer out.

My brother had left the house about 10 minutes before me, and when I headed out, I found him still standing along side the road. “Why aren’t you in the stand already?” I asked. “Dude, I been sitting in the truck for the past 10 minutes,” he said, as he held out his shaking hand. “What, are you cold or somethin’?” Turns out that just as he got out of the truck, a deer came up right behind him and snorted. He shined his flashlight around in time to scare the deer as it was charging him! The deer stayed back about 5 yards, and shook its head & pawed the ground. My brother decided it would be wise to get back in the truck and wait a while, since his guns were cased in the bed yet.

It just so happens my Uncle John was walking in to his stand on the other side of the field at this same time. After this deer startled my brother, it ran across the field and went after uncle John! He said he shined his flashlight on it just as it was running toward him, and he fired a shotgun slug at it from the hip and missed. He says he was more concerned about scaring it away than hitting it. Just after he got into the stand, a couple does came up the hill, so he leveled on one and pulled the trigger. *Click.* He forgot to shuck out the empty! So he cycled the pump, fired, and watched the does trot over the hill untouched. Then a small button buck came by, so he fired 3 times, missing. Reloaded, fired 3 more times. Reloaded, and finally knocked it down on the seventh shot. So he climbed down, and the thing was still alive. Not wanting to waste yet another round, he pulled out his cheapo pocketknife that came free with his duck decoys, and stabbed it in the neck. “BLAAAAAAHHH!” He tried again, and again the deer bellowed. “Blaaaaaahhh!!” (My uncle John would stick out his tongue & cross his eyes as he related this portion of the story.) On the third attempt, the knife broke, so he took a step back and shot it again anyway.

Now, I want to go on record here saying I am in no way condoning my uncle’s actions above. I would much rather see a clean kill with responsible, accurate shots. But, my uncle has a way of telling stories to where ya can’t help but laugh.

This year about a month before season, my brother decided he wanted to try hunting with a handgun after hearing me talk about it, so his wife got him a Ruger Super Blackhawk hunter model in .44 mag as an early Christmas present. He topped it with a variable power scope, which made it awkward in balance, but really helped tame the recoil. Shooting offhand was not much more than a popgun, especially compared to my .454. He was getting 50 yard groups in the 1 ½” range, and even took out a stray tomcat that happened to walk in front of his target while sighting it in.

After getting shaken up in the dark, he had a couple does come by within about 35 yards or so, and got ready with his .44. Then a small buck came up behind them, so he focused his attention on the buck instead. But the buck had other plans, and went around a different direction than expected. My brother ended up shooting one handed, turned around backwards, as the deer was running 40 yards behind him. One shot through the neck dropped it on the spot. Then next day he got a doe, also running, and made a perfect shot through the shoulder area, but he shot several more times not knowing that it was gonna die anyhow. I told him he was lucky that they didn’t end up getting away wounded, taking those kinds of shots, but he’s always been lucky in that regard it seems.

Toward evening that first day, I was sitting inside the edge of the woods near a slough, and had 4 does walk in about 40 yards from me. Though I have no trouble hitting paper targets at 60 yards, I wasn’t comfortable shooting my pistol at live targets at that range. So I watched them milling around for a while, never getting any closer. They walked out onto the field again, and now I just enjoyed watching them since the pressure was off. It was one of those magical moments in the woods. The sky was a beautiful mix of pink and purple, the deer were grazing, and then a group of about 20 geese circled once, talked amongst themselves, locked wings, and splashed down in the slough. The light was fading fast, and I hoped I wouldn’t spook the deer too bad when I walked out. But then, one doe decided to come back into the woods, and walked within 10 yards of my stand. I was waiting with my pistol, and tried to make the decision on whether to shoot or not. If I made a bad shot, I’d be tracking her in the dark, but she was standing sooo close… I took the shot, and immediately thumbed back the hammer for a followup, expecting her to run off. But instead she was knocked straight back on her butt, then fell over sideways and kicked a bit. The bullet had entered the top of her left shoulder, and exited low on the right side, taking out the heart in between. I was surprised that she hadn’t run –we don’t usually get that kind of stopping effect from 12 gauge slugs. I was using 335 grain wide nose hard casts over 31 grains of W296, by the way. The bullet went at least a foot deep in the ground after going through the deer.

The next morning, I blew it bigtime. I slept in late, and it was already light out by the time I was walking to the stand. I was only a short end from my stand, when I jumped up a nice buck just across the creek. He stood there for a moment, but all I could see through the brush were antlers- I didn’t have a shot. He took off heading north, and just a moment later I heard a shot. “Awwww Hell.” Caught up with the neighbor a bit later, and it was a nice 8 pointer, with about a 20” spread, 200 pounds. I would’ve had a 50 yard shot at him (with a very accurate slug gun) from my stand if I’d got up on time.

The next day, my little sister came down from college in Chicago to hunt, and her boyfriend sat in a stand nearby with a camera. She got a little buck, and the two of them decided to carry it all the way through the woods, to the edge of the far field. Then they got the truck stuck in the field. I suppose we should have told them to wait until we could go in with the 4 wheeler, but I’m sure they’ll remember next time. : ) Her boyfriend is from Boston, and while his family knew she hunted, she wasn’t sure what they’d think about actually seeing a picture of her standing next to a bloody deer, with a bandoleer of slugs across her chest. I’m sure there will be nothing to worry about, since they already know what a great person she is.

The last afternoon I was gonna hunt another stand, and my wife wanted to come along. We came around a bend in the creek, and there was a small bobcat about 70 yards away in the field. “Bobcat!”, I said in a harsh whisper, as I got down. I motioned over my shoulder that my wife should quickly take a picture with our digital camera. I looked back, and she was still standing. “Get down!” Not that it really made any difference, I guess. She snapped a shot just as it was running back to the treeline. It’s pretty small, but still neat. We sat in the stand for a little over an hour, and several does came by and browsed out in the field in front of us. We just watched since I’d already gotten a doe for meat, I was in no rush. I think she really enjoyed the experience, and talking about going hunting next year herself.