MCBUCK
Senior Member
Deer hunters are a strange breed at best and at their worst are, well....different. Like most deer hunters I have hunte most allof my adult life. I started my odyssey at the age of eight, and have been addicted ever since those first trips into areas withromantic names like, "the Pocket" or "the Cove" and to a ten year old, the far away exotic places like "south Georgia; Monticello." To a ten year old mountain boy, those places ever hold memories of my father, the smell of a pine log fire and dreams of ghostly bucks and frosty mornings. Somewhere in the constant barrage of "quality deer management" and the commercials of "the must buy scent" and the dronings of whispering TV hosts, my love of the hunt, the purity of comraderie was lost and tainted; somewhere I lost the joy.
Then something quite by accident happened. I posted here on Woodys a random post about hunting in the mountains. The Cohuttas are not an easy place to hunt, so I thought I would share a little of my simple wisdom; and it is simple
But after hunting for 30 years in the mountains, I thought it would be valuable to someone. A member read it, and replied to me desiring a little more information. His name was Ray Jones. Ray wanted to learn more about some of the public lands where I hunt, as he had a desire to hunt bear. He just wanted to find access, and how fo find his way aroung the vast aarea of Cohutta. I more than graciously obliged, and took Ray on what I called a "nickle tour of the cowpen." Ray seemed excited just to be on "the mountain." Ray took two trips to the area; one a scouting trip when the weather turned nast as it sometimes does on the top, and one hunting trip during archery a season. His hunts did produce a bear, but it was special to Ray none the less. You see, Ray enjoyed the hunt.I had forgotten what that was...this became very evident to me a couple of months later. Fast forward to late October. Ray had told me that I would be his guest for a middle Georgia rut hunt, but you see....one thing I have know after hunting in the mountains is that the trade from north Georgia to middle Georgia is typically not a fair trade....Ray was undeterred, because I did what I said I would do and Ray (and this is important) had fun....now it was my turn.
I showed up at Rays house at about 9:00 on Friday evening, November 9th. Ray was excited about hunting his lease the next day, because he had a one day bear season. The morning was nice and cfisp for Houston county, but no bear or deer were participation in our hunt. We came down around 11:00am and went to camp, where we met up with Tim and Reggie, two of rays hunting buddies. From there we went to a little Bar-b-que place called "The White Diamond"... when they first said the name of the place I was sure it was a strip joint and after nice meal ( I am still trying to figure out why I volunteered to buy ) we headed back to the woods. The afternoon hunt was not very productive to me, but that was OK. Ray did manage t opop a 200lb pig though. Sunday turned out about the same except for one main event that changed the entire character of the hunt. I saw two small bucks, a 3pt and a spike, but Rays sone Hunter, shot a "doe". The doe truend out to be a button head. Well, the leases I had been on the last few years would have carried a pretty stiff fine for such a sin, and a complete ostracization from the other club members......However this young man who has killed many deer was just as excited about this deer as I have aver seen. And so was his dad. I saw again the joy of pure hunting at it's fionest. The culmination of the hunt, that was at it core, the prime reason we go to the woods; the enjoyment of the outdoors, the fellowship, the taking of game....and I was a part of it again. And I wanted to be more a part of it. It was grandiose!
Monday came around, adn I was looking forward to be in the tree again. Ray had selected the area I was in, and said he felt it the best place for me to see a deer, but he weather Monday was not conducive to good deer hunting. A warm breezy front move in, and then the afternoon brought some rain. I actually thought about leaving, but with some encouraement from my friend and I deceded that I cuold leaver after the Tuesday morning hunt.
Tuesday morning brought some much cooler temps, even if there was a bit of a breeze. The morning was nice and pleasant at about 40' and a nice 10mph beeeze. I sat in a nice little shallow pine hollow full of what I guessed 10-12 year old pines. There was a pasture about 30yds or so to the north of my little hollow. I had drank a coke though and about 8:55 "the urge" hit me...so off the side of the stand I let it rip ( I have always done this with no ill affects on my hunting) just as I finished, flipped and zipped, I noticed some movement on the far northern edge of the hollow...comiong out of the thicket. I sat and grabbed my .270Win. A doe was running right at me from about 200yds or so, and I knew she was being chased bny a buck...just as quickly as I saw the doe, I saw the buck.. I couldn't tell much about the buck, and did not care... the hunt was fun again so it diod not matter. The two deer were running toward a cut out in the pins, so I mouth bnleated as loud as I could to stop them, but the chase was on and they ran tight thru the break and into some open pines to my right and I mouth bleated again and they slowed enough for me to milk off a shot from the Rem700....I missed but that old buck had one thing on the brain. The shot did confuse the doe some though, and she started running in circles...jacked another round in....and well...OK....I finally nailed him on the fifth shot. Well, after the fifth shot as I watched the brass flyout the left side of my gun (lefted handed bolt) I saw more movement ....it was another buck! I coule tell it was a little better buck, but again...the rigger was going to be pulled regardless. I retrieved one....1....shell from the shell holded on the buttstock, threw it in the chamber and waited on the buck to hit the cut in the pices. Just as he hit the break, I squeezed the last shot I had into his chest; it was barely a 65yd shot, so I was sure of the hit, but the buck ran off a ways before he fell. I sat down ....shaking uncontrollably. Ray sent me a text asking if that was me that shot. I replied something back incoherent
And Ray knew I was deep in fever, and said for me to sit tight, that he and his son would be right there. Ray and Hunter showed up on the edge of the hollow about 20 mins later, and I directed them to the 2nd buck I shot. Ray confirmed that he was down while I was still in the tree. I got down and met Hunter at the first buck. The first buck turned out to be a nice thick bodied eithg pointer...about 175lbs on the hoof. Hunter and I were admirin the deer when Ray walked up, and I said to him how tickled I was with the eight.....Rays words to me we something like this...."Man, if you like that one, you are gonna love the other one" I asked him what it was, and he said, "It is a toad. Moe, he has to be a 200lb ten pointer." I of course, did not believe him, so we walked the 100yds to the deer, and Ray backed off to let me go ahead of him to the deer, and sure enough...it was a Crawford County toad. It was the biggest bodied deer I have ever taken. He was easy over 200lbs on the hoof (later dressed 160lbs0 with a nice thick 10point rack. I fell flat on my taild. Ray and hunter were as excited as me! I had found the joy again! The deer were great, but the hunt was perfect! The hospitality was grand! But..... the fellowship was perfection! A man who was a coimplete stranger less than 6 months ago had brought me back full circle to the roots of why I loved to hunt in the first place. Am I thankful to my friend Ray? Yes of course I am! ...but the deer are not important. You can hunt a lifetime, and take countless heads of Boone and Crockett bucks and miss out on the importance of it all. What is important is the joy of the hunt, the love of the outdoors, and the true trophies.....friendship. Thank you more for that than anything ....my friend Ray.
Then something quite by accident happened. I posted here on Woodys a random post about hunting in the mountains. The Cohuttas are not an easy place to hunt, so I thought I would share a little of my simple wisdom; and it is simple
But after hunting for 30 years in the mountains, I thought it would be valuable to someone. A member read it, and replied to me desiring a little more information. His name was Ray Jones. Ray wanted to learn more about some of the public lands where I hunt, as he had a desire to hunt bear. He just wanted to find access, and how fo find his way aroung the vast aarea of Cohutta. I more than graciously obliged, and took Ray on what I called a "nickle tour of the cowpen." Ray seemed excited just to be on "the mountain." Ray took two trips to the area; one a scouting trip when the weather turned nast as it sometimes does on the top, and one hunting trip during archery a season. His hunts did produce a bear, but it was special to Ray none the less. You see, Ray enjoyed the hunt.I had forgotten what that was...this became very evident to me a couple of months later. Fast forward to late October. Ray had told me that I would be his guest for a middle Georgia rut hunt, but you see....one thing I have know after hunting in the mountains is that the trade from north Georgia to middle Georgia is typically not a fair trade....Ray was undeterred, because I did what I said I would do and Ray (and this is important) had fun....now it was my turn. I showed up at Rays house at about 9:00 on Friday evening, November 9th. Ray was excited about hunting his lease the next day, because he had a one day bear season. The morning was nice and cfisp for Houston county, but no bear or deer were participation in our hunt. We came down around 11:00am and went to camp, where we met up with Tim and Reggie, two of rays hunting buddies. From there we went to a little Bar-b-que place called "The White Diamond"... when they first said the name of the place I was sure it was a strip joint
and after nice meal ( I am still trying to figure out why I volunteered to buy ) we headed back to the woods. The afternoon hunt was not very productive to me, but that was OK. Ray did manage t opop a 200lb pig though. Sunday turned out about the same except for one main event that changed the entire character of the hunt. I saw two small bucks, a 3pt and a spike, but Rays sone Hunter, shot a "doe". The doe truend out to be a button head. Well, the leases I had been on the last few years would have carried a pretty stiff fine for such a sin, and a complete ostracization from the other club members......However this young man who has killed many deer was just as excited about this deer as I have aver seen. And so was his dad. I saw again the joy of pure hunting at it's fionest. The culmination of the hunt, that was at it core, the prime reason we go to the woods; the enjoyment of the outdoors, the fellowship, the taking of game....and I was a part of it again. And I wanted to be more a part of it. It was grandiose! Monday came around, adn I was looking forward to be in the tree again. Ray had selected the area I was in, and said he felt it the best place for me to see a deer, but he weather Monday was not conducive to good deer hunting. A warm breezy front move in, and then the afternoon brought some rain. I actually thought about leaving, but with some encouraement from my friend and I deceded that I cuold leaver after the Tuesday morning hunt.
Tuesday morning brought some much cooler temps, even if there was a bit of a breeze. The morning was nice and pleasant at about 40' and a nice 10mph beeeze. I sat in a nice little shallow pine hollow full of what I guessed 10-12 year old pines. There was a pasture about 30yds or so to the north of my little hollow. I had drank a coke though and about 8:55 "the urge" hit me...so off the side of the stand I let it rip ( I have always done this with no ill affects on my hunting) just as I finished, flipped and zipped, I noticed some movement on the far northern edge of the hollow...comiong out of the thicket. I sat and grabbed my .270Win. A doe was running right at me from about 200yds or so, and I knew she was being chased bny a buck...just as quickly as I saw the doe, I saw the buck.. I couldn't tell much about the buck, and did not care... the hunt was fun again so it diod not matter. The two deer were running toward a cut out in the pins, so I mouth bnleated as loud as I could to stop them, but the chase was on and they ran tight thru the break and into some open pines to my right and I mouth bleated again and they slowed enough for me to milk off a shot from the Rem700....I missed but that old buck had one thing on the brain. The shot did confuse the doe some though, and she started running in circles...jacked another round in....and well...OK....I finally nailed him on the fifth shot. Well, after the fifth shot as I watched the brass flyout the left side of my gun (lefted handed bolt) I saw more movement ....it was another buck! I coule tell it was a little better buck, but again...the rigger was going to be pulled regardless. I retrieved one....1....shell from the shell holded on the buttstock, threw it in the chamber and waited on the buck to hit the cut in the pices. Just as he hit the break, I squeezed the last shot I had into his chest; it was barely a 65yd shot, so I was sure of the hit, but the buck ran off a ways before he fell. I sat down ....shaking uncontrollably. Ray sent me a text asking if that was me that shot. I replied something back incoherent
And Ray knew I was deep in fever, and said for me to sit tight, that he and his son would be right there. Ray and Hunter showed up on the edge of the hollow about 20 mins later, and I directed them to the 2nd buck I shot. Ray confirmed that he was down while I was still in the tree. I got down and met Hunter at the first buck. The first buck turned out to be a nice thick bodied eithg pointer...about 175lbs on the hoof. Hunter and I were admirin the deer when Ray walked up, and I said to him how tickled I was with the eight.....Rays words to me we something like this...."Man, if you like that one, you are gonna love the other one" I asked him what it was, and he said, "It is a toad. Moe, he has to be a 200lb ten pointer." I of course, did not believe him, so we walked the 100yds to the deer, and Ray backed off to let me go ahead of him to the deer, and sure enough...it was a Crawford County toad. It was the biggest bodied deer I have ever taken. He was easy over 200lbs on the hoof (later dressed 160lbs0 with a nice thick 10point rack. I fell flat on my taild. Ray and hunter were as excited as me! I had found the joy again! The deer were great, but the hunt was perfect! The hospitality was grand! But..... the fellowship was perfection! A man who was a coimplete stranger less than 6 months ago had brought me back full circle to the roots of why I loved to hunt in the first place. Am I thankful to my friend Ray? Yes of course I am! ...but the deer are not important. You can hunt a lifetime, and take countless heads of Boone and Crockett bucks and miss out on the importance of it all. What is important is the joy of the hunt, the love of the outdoors, and the true trophies.....friendship. Thank you more for that than anything ....my friend Ray.
