Love Affair With Rubs...

Bowriter

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In 1958, at the tender age of 14, I was deep in a place called Cocodrie Swamp. At that time, there were no roads. You went in and out by boat. I was with four “uncles” and we were camped deep in the swamp. I waded a slough and went up a slight ridge to overlook Grassy Lake Drain. I saw then, three huge rubs. To my knowledge, the first I had ever seen. I had no idea what they meant.

It was just about 4:00, in the afternoon. I had 90-minutes to hunt. To my right, was a huge, down, cypress log. I settled in between some buttonwoods and laid the L.C. Smith, 12-gauge across my knees. Wooducks were screeing all around me and I was about to swap double ought for #5’s when I caught motion.

At 40-yards, I sent two barrels of double oughts into a basket rack, eight-point. His widest spread was 14”. He scored 145, even and weighed, field dressed, 24-hours later, 244-pounds.

That started a love affair and obsession with rubs. Since then, slowly, I have begun to devote a portion of each year to the study of rubs-Big rubs, small rubs, parallel rubs, mock rubs and trees that looked like they were rubbed.

Yes, I am obsessed with rubs for I know of no other facet of deer behavior that imparts the knowledge that is provided with a thorough understanding of rubs. I know of no one who has that understanding. I wish I did.
 

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Dang nice bucks. Yep, even to this day, I get as excited as a kid on Christmas when I find the year's first rub. Love seeing them. I even cut some down and bring them home from time to time. Got one big one on a Nebraska cottonwood that I cut down and brought home to make a floor lamp out of one day.
 
Rub lines in this area I'm told are unique to many parts of the country; one can sometimes actually follow a rub line back from a cornfield or road crossing all the way back to the bucks bed. We do it many times every spring and have for the last almost thirty years. Not all rub lines can be unraveled here but some are so simple you can almost run down them. Mostly though the value of such knowledge in knowing where a particular buck liked to bed during rub time would come a year or two or three or more years later or never. Some times though success comes quickly.

One year around 1993 or so during pre-rut there were the usual four of us in deer camp and hunting was tough. Through a lucky encounter I had shot a buck fairly quickly within 75 yards of his bed but generally the deer were just not moving during daylight. On day five of our two week hunt the west wind was blowing twenty-five to thirty five with occasional dumpings of lake effect rain (TORRENTIAL downpours). I asked Anne if she wanted to try rub line hunting;Dad and Skip chuckled as they had no faith that following the lines led to the deer or at least to their beds. Anne and I drove down the road to a giant rub that could be seen from the road. Bundled up like Eskimos and peeking thru our hoods tied down over most of our faces we began searching for rubs further back from the road and were able to follow the rub line backwards (the rub line was headed from deep in the woods to the road so the rubs were on the opposite side of the trees from our travel direction which made for slow going). Foot by foot we made headway until finally about 3/8 of a mile in we came to a bunch of signpost type rubs where the buck likely had been holed up. We didn't go any closer than we had to to confirm we had found what we were looking for. The spot was familiar to me as a point where bucks had bedded before. It was where two ridges met at a 90 degree angle; the ridges were not high but higher than the surrounding grounds. The plan was for her to sneak in from downwind the next day and take a seat against a big tree and with a little luck the deer would be hers within two or three days at the most. Anne was just ecstatic and very, very enthusiastic. In her mind the buck was as good as hers. A lot of good natured teasing and laughing over our rub line venture went on over a few drinks that night!

Anne was up and ready early the next morning to get "her" buck. The wind had eased and switched to out of the south. Anne knew the way in from the south but not the north so we sneaked in together from the north to position Anne as close to the bed as possible without spooking the buck we presumed to be there. She vowed to sit on her ground pad until dark if needed. At 11:30 am Dad, Skip and I are back at camp having coffee and Dad says well at least she's is out there thinking a buck will be coming to her, even if she doesn't see anything. Just then we hear a very loud single shot (243 with a muzzlebrake, sounds like a much larger caliber). A half hour later Anne is back telling us the story how her buck came right from it's bed and walked up to within fifteen yards of her spot and she dropped it. Hunting for Dad and Skip continued to be slow that year and Anne kept telling them how "easy" it was to just follow a rub line to the bucks bed and sneak back the next day to wait for it to move and shoot it but with a lot of eye rolling it was obvious they just weren't buying in that it wasn't just beginners luck. That evening we all celebrated Anne's deer though and it was a great time.

Anne's buck was a 2 1/2 year old which dressed out at 166 lbs. and her smile was a million dollar smile. That was many, many rub line memories ago but it remains one of our favorites.
 
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In 1958, at the tender age of 14, I was deep in a place called Cocodrie Swamp. At that time, there were no roads. You went in and out by boat. I was with four “uncles” and we were camped deep in the swamp. I waded a slough and went up a slight ridge to overlook Grassy Lake Drain. I saw then, three huge rubs. To my knowledge, the first I had ever seen. I had no idea what they meant.

It was just about 4:00, in the afternoon. I had 90-minutes to hunt. To my right, was a huge, down, cypress log. I settled in between some buttonwoods and laid the L.C. Smith, 12-gauge across my knees. Wooducks were screeing all around me and I was about to swap double ought for #5’s when I caught motion.

At 40-yards, I sent two barrels of double oughts into a basket rack, eight-point. His widest spread was 14”. He scored 145, even and weighed, field dressed, 24-hours later, 244-pounds.

That started a love affair and obsession with rubs. Since then, slowly, I have begun to devote a portion of each year to the study of rubs-Big rubs, small rubs, parallel rubs, mock rubs and trees that looked like they were rubbed.

Yes, I am obsessed with rubs for I know of no other facet of deer behavior that imparts the knowledge that is provided with a thorough understanding of rubs. I know of no one who has that understanding. I wish I did.
Cocodrie Swamp. Grassy Lake drain. Did you have the good fortune of spending time in the great state of La. as a youth? I'm surprised they weren't running dogs for you there.That was my first experience in that neighborhood when I was about 12. Deer came running by me with dogs on scent. Scared me half to death . Shot in the general direction of her with my .410 single shot slug. They cut my shirttail for the miss and I've been hooked every since.
 
Grew up there, ran dogs for many years, lost a couple shirt tails, too. Had a camp in Saline swamp and camped a lot in Cocodrie. Killed my first three deer, two in Saline, one in Cocodrie.
 
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