Johnny's Buck, 2004

This is the buck I shot down in Chases's Mills, near the Louisville Swamp on the St. Lawrence. You can tell it's not a Shattagee Woods deer, because even though it certainly had a nice rack, it wasn't that big of a deer: this was an 8-pointer, and when I took it to the Owlyout about a week after I shot it, it weighed in at 149 lbs.

It was the last weekend of hunting season, and I still hadn't gotten anything, so since I had a doe permit, I went down to my cousin George's place in Madrid. We went over to his property, where he has an old sawmill.

When I arrived, it was about 7:00 or so, maybe 7:30, and his truck was already running and warmed up. We drove over to his property, perhaps a 20-minute drive.

Right in back of his sawmill, maybe about a 5-minute walk, if that, Lynn Backus, a friend of George's and Dick's from work--who is also a member of our camp now--had put a brand new tree stand. Never blooded, although that status was about to quickly change.

I was unsure about going up there, but with some reluctance, I climbed up. One of my friends, Porky, had just almost shot his hand off earlier in the season while climbing into a treestand. It's a wonder he didn't either bleed to death or lose his hand, but fortunately, he didn't, although I understand that it was touch-and-go there for awhile. I'm glad to learn that he's now recovered.

George walked around the swamp and did a small push.

I can't remember all of the details, but I think there were some guys in the next field. But wherre we were, it was rather thick, although there are some nice open spaces in there.

Soon, I had some crashing, and sure enough, here comes a big buck!!

Man, I was on alert. All I saw were those big horns just kind of swaying, ever so gracefully. He was running, but not fast; it was more of a trot. However, there was some urgency there, like was trying to get the hell out of there for some reason; it was because he heard George coming around the swamp, is what! Well, it was pretty open in there, but there also were a few places where he went behind these cedars. I had only a few seconds to decide where to get my shot, so the next time I he came into this open area, I let him have it, with a single shot.

I saw that I'd hit him, as his entire rearend moved as soon as he was hit. However, for some reason I thought that I'd only wounded him, as he kept going! Shit! I looked for him, I heard something making noise over behind the cedars he'd run behind, and I figured that he'd kept going.

I waited a few minutes, then went out of my tree to see where he'd gone. It's not easy climbing out of a tree stand with a rifle if you're not used to it, believe me. So I went over there, looking for tracks, and just about the time I was wondering where the tracks were, I looked over, and there he was, lying dead. I walked over to him, and sure enough, he was done for. I went back into the treestand to wait for George.

About 40 minutes later, here he comes. I was hoping for another one, of course.

I didn't know whether to play it cool or what. After all, this was the first time that I'd even seen a buck since I shot the last one, about 23 years before that season. That's also a good story, but this deer gets his due, so those other big deer will have to wait.

As to whether or not I played it cool, well, I admit that I was pretty pumped up, so I probably said something smart. I knew that he had at least heard my shot. Anyway, I said told him where the deer was lying, I got out of Lynn's treestand, and went to find the deer.

No deer! I'm thinking what the hell, did the deer get up and leave or something!

When you're in that kind of a situation, all kinds of things go through your brain.

But just as I was imaging all kinds of things, George saw where the deer was lying, and we walked over.

Well, that deer had run smack into a big cedar tree, and knocked himself out cold, is what happened! I felt bad for the deer to have to hit a tree, but since I was the one that killed him, after all, you can't feel too bad under the circumstancs. But there were all kinds of marks on the tree, the deer had connected, so I was thinking, 'ouch!'.

We noticed that I had shot him straight through the heart; actually, it was right across the top, and I still have some of the heart in my freezer along with most of the liver. I'm looking forward to eating that in a few weeks, and when I do, I'll be sure to be thinking about how glad I was that our buddy and pal Lynn Backus put his stand up in a good spot, for me to shoot from. Thanks, Lynn! This year he told me that someone else shot one there this fall, during bow season.

We gutted the deer out, although I have to admit that because it's been 24 years since the last time, I had to have George give me some instructions. And also, for some reason ever since I put this big piece of glass through my finger and it bled all over, I've been somewhat squeamish about blood and most of the time I'll go into shock. However, I did OK and soon George had the thing hooked up to Kathy's new tractor. A few of the neighbors came over to look at it.



There was something strange about that deer, which was that no, he didn't exactly have buck teeth, but he had a hell of an overbite! His lips stuck out probably two inches beyond his lower teeth, which may account for why he ran into that tree.

When we were done, we went back and continued hunting all through his property, and on the way back saw where more deer had been walking in our tracks. However, we didn't see any. I have to say that George has a nice piece of property, and I enjoyed the various little pushes that we did.

During our ride to and from the sawmill, George told me how a lot of the area farmers had obtained permits, and had been killing somewhere in the area of...a lot of deer. I used to go over there and see perhaps 50 deer or so come out into the fields at dusk, but no more! And he made some remarks about shooting does, how that really doesn't help to replenish the deer population. Therefore I was feeling kind of guilty for going down there to hunt, even though I had a doe permit and he was kind enough to agree to let me come down there.

So when I shot that buck, well, I really felt guilty about stealing his deer, so this year I didn't ask to go down there. Also, because of the fact that I was so poor last fall, I wound up eating most of the deer by myself, and unfortunately, didn't have the opportunity to share any of it with him. Sorry, George. I want you to know that I was always thinking about you every time I cooked one of those steaks. I had some set aside, but towards the end of winter I was getting kind of hungry, so I ate it all up. However, I seem to recall that when I offered him some, he said that he'd get some the next time he came up for a bar-b-que, which hasn't yet happened. Maybe there will be some venison at my house by the time he arrives...

The next time I get one, hopefully it will be a real Adirondack deer, not one of those small ones, and I can guarantee there will be enough to go around!