Dugout


Guess what happened the next year. Yup, buck opening day from the same tree. This buck came from the woods and stood in an opening that floods in the spring. Look at that huge droptine; it is over an inch so it totally counts. The nosy nieghbors walked up on me as I got to the deer; he thought that I was on him. I was 50 yards off of the property line and we had that stand there for years. Another odd thing about this one was that we tried a brine to cure the leather on the mount; we normally use a dry method. The hair started to slip so we switched to our normal method. I had no issues after that until I took it to college with me. It was hanging under the air vent and started to stink one summer. I resalted it and I have had no issues since.
 


Apparently some bucks are too ugly to shoot. I disagree. To me ugly equals character. After upgrading bucks 3 years in a row on opening morning out of the same stand, I went a year or two without a buck. Football and wrestling cut into my seasons a bit. Up to this point all of my bucks had come in the morning and honestly I still like watching the woods wake up best. My Grandpa and I were sitting in stands on the same fence row about 300 yards apart and Dad was somewhere else. Grandpa had this buck walk right underneath him and passed him because he deemed him too ugly. The buck went 3 rows into the trees, turned 90 degrees to the north, and walked 300 yards to his demise. I didn't age bucks back then, but this buck was least 3. Grandpa came down after I shot asked me if I shot that ugly one. I confirmed that I did and mentioned that it was my largest to date. He is crooked and ugly, but this is defiantly a rack that catches your eye while looking at my trophies.
 


I went 4 years without a buck. College really limited my time in the woods and I could not wait to get home and put some time in the woods. Season started a bit slow; it was warm and raining a lot. We usually hunt in any weather, but it was raining really hard one morning and Grandpa and I decided to sit in the truck until it quit. On my way to the stand I had 2 deer cross the right away in front of me. I snuck up closer, which was extremely easy considering all of the rain. This buck was standing about 40 yards away broadside and I could clearly see that he was young and something that I didn't want to shoot. I talked myself into it and shot him anyway. Not sure why, I just wanted to kill a buck after my drout. I gutted the deer and walked on back to the stand and shot 2 does. That afternoon out of the same stand my brother in law killed his stud. Up until this point all of the my bucks had been larger than one before, but I really didn't have any regrets. I caught a lot of flak from my family, but I just reminded them that I have not shot one with spots on it like my Grandfather did once.
 
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I was back in my old stand on the edge of the field one night and had to make a quick decision. This buck's larger side was facing me and he walked through the smallest of openings; I thought he was much larger. The bad thing was that my dad had warned me about this buck and he knew that he was young and much smaller than he appeared. At 100 yards and in thick woods I dropped him. I was a little disappointed because of tagging 2 small ones 2 years in a row.
 
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I bill this buck as the world's largest 5 pointer. I was in the stand that my last nice buck came from. It was opening morning and the rut was on. I could hear this buck running a doe in the woods and they appeared on the edge of the right a way. I thought I had finally shot a buck worthy of a mount. I walked up to the trail 70 yards from the stand and found hair. I walked in on the trail he was on and found nothing. I walked all over and never found any sign of him; I was starting to get that sick feeling you get when you loose a deer. I decided to give up and wait for my family to finish up hunting. As I was walking out I decided to look in the middle of a clump of 4 pines with there branches all the way down to the ground about 15 yards from where I shot him. I have no idea why I decided to look in there. There he was belly down right in the middle of those pines; I had been walking all around him for over an hour. I hit him right in the heart and he never bled a drop that I could find; I even back tracked to where I shot him. When I got to him I noticed that he only had 1 antler; I thought I might of shot it off. I picked up his head and noticed it was just deformed. I was disappointed that he wasn't what I thought he was once again. He was standing right on the edge of the pines and I could see the good side; I thought that the other side was just obscured by the trees. I was waiting at the truck and my was not thrilled to hear that I shot a 5 pointer after my previous 2 seasons; he retracted his statements after he saw him.
 
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Great job on the cabin, interesting stories, beautiful bucks, and best of all.... kids following a family tradition.
 


Beautiful 100-120 inch 8 points are so hard to pass. Now that I have bigger deer I hope that I can; these are often the next 2 years really big ones. I was still feeling a combination of getting a "good" deer and really wanting to shoot any deer. The thoughts of letting them go 1 more year and trying to kill the oldest deer on the farm were starting to creep in. It has been a slow year for me and it was too hot to be hunting in November and I didn't even want to go, but Grandpa talked me into it. I picked the closest stand to the truck because I could tell that I wasn't going to sit in a tree for half the day. I would hunt awhile and then go eat a bolanga sandwich and wait for Grandpa to finish his hunt. I was basically sunbathing when I caught the movement of an antler coming up the right of way. I set up too quickly and he saw me move, but just stopped directly downwind from me and starting eating clover. I put it on him and he dropped in his tracks. As I was finishing up the field dressing; I received my introduction to nasal bot worms. Worm after worm began to fall out of this deer's nose. I really lost my taste for backstraps for the first time in my life. A quick internet search when I got home revealed that he was still safe to eat. The worms continued to fall out as he was hanging that afternoon; they are one of grossest things that I have ever seen in a deer. Grandpa still swears the only reason that I got this deer is because those worms were driving him insane. This deer made a wonderful mount; he really has some nice colors.
 
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The buck that I killed the year that son was born is another example of major ground shrinkage that I had. I first saw this buck as he walked away from me in a very dense thicket. I thought that he was a much larger buck that we had seen running a doe earlier that year. He turned and came into a big opening and shot. Money was tighter than normal, but I wanted to have this deer mounted mostly due to my son's birth. So I went with cheap quick turn around guy. Do not ever do that; you are better off putting it on a board or doing a european mount yourself.

 


This buck provided a very memorable hunt. He busted a doe out of a thicket and was running her in a corn field. She winded me and was about to hightail it out of there. I knew this buck looked pretty good, but I was not sure what he was. He seemed to have lots of points so I shot when I could. This buck did a big circle in the field and then just fell over dead. This buck had broken quite a bit off, but he has a third horn that shares a common base is partially fused into the normal antler. This was a nice 3 year old buck. I was very happy to have a deer with a 5 point side and such character. My dad passed this deer twice before he was broken off because he was too ugly; I think he regretted it a little after he got his hands on him.
 
This buck died because he walked under me on opening day and I had a new baby at home and a 2 year old. This was the first buck that I ever shot that I had trail camera pictures of. Shooting this buck really caused me to catch some flak from my family because we had several really nice bucks around. I knew my season was limited due to the kids so my decision was the correct one for me; plus I was there the morning my dad shot droptine and I wouldn't trade that memory for anything. I only wish Grandpa would have killed one that year. I put a very long 125 yard shot on this buck with iron sights with my 12 gauge that my grandfather gave me when I graduated high school. He looks so much like my other 8 pointers that I decided I was really going to wait on a really mature deer the next few years. We started to understand that our days on this farm where limited and I really wanted to put 3 generations in the Hoosier Record Book program off of the place.

 
you've shot some really nice bucks. enjoying the stories that go along with each one

todd
 
I started to have a little free time and extra money at this point so I really put time into trail cameras and feed stations through the winter. I really started to love the cameras ability to take an inventory of deer available and when they were or weren't using certain places on the farm. We could only do so much to this farm because we didn't own it. As great as a place as it was to hunt; I was really getting an itch to but my own place. I really became a big proponent of late winter corn, alfalfa, and mineral stations at this time. I could gets of good close pictures of bucks and really get to know and she them. The palmated buck really peaked my interest and he was certainly the most mature deer using the farm that winter. I decided then that it was him that I wanted to hunt the most, even though some other bucks scored better. This buck looked extremely mature but I believe he was 3 that year and 4 the next. He just seemed to have a strange body type for our area that made look older than he was. His strangely shaped body and rack always made me wonder if he had an injury at some point. He was actually a rather small bodied buck until I fed him hundreds of pounds of corn that winter. He would park him self at the food and run everybody else off. I was able to put an arrow in him, but he survived and a neighbor killed about and month later. I would have been so proud to have him as my first bow kill, but it didn't work out. After I had given up on him I shot another buck with bow; I tracked him until a found my broadhead. The blood dried up. Ahead of the trail that this buck was on was thickest 10 acres on this property. This weed that grows in here is like a giant baby's breath flower than you might find in your wife's roses. You cannot walk through this stuff especially when it is green. I had lost the second buck of the year. I was extremely frustrated, ready to throw away the most expensive piece of hunting equipment that I owned, and just plain not happy with myself. I had shot this bow nearly everyday for 2 years. The year before I racked the cam on a limb above my head at full draw trying to get my first bow kill on a little doe fawn. I hate waiting on a deer that I could have dropped with my trusty 870 one hundred yards ago. But I love the October weather, the challenge of the new weapon, and the ability to remain perfectly quite. I felt better when I heard about the palmated buck being taken by the neighbor and when my dad stumbled upon the other buck. Grandpa and I were so close to him dozens of times, we just couldn't see him in those awful weeds. The last buck that I would ever take off of this farm had a huge astrik by it, but I will always rember it as such. We did get to hunt the harm 1 more year after this, but no bucks were produced. We had pressure all around us and the bucks were becoming more and more nocturnal.
 
We are now at our new beginning in southern Indiana. We started leasing farms with my cousin the last year that we had the place in central Indiana. Hunting big woods is much different than hunting the woodlots of suburbia. The first year we stayed at a hotel opening weekend. I had my window smashed in the parking lot while hunting opening day and I knew quickly that this arrangement was not going to work for me.
 
I knew I wanted to buy land, but I was not planning on it until many years down the road. Necessity changed my plans. Our lease payments would pay 6 months worth of payments on my own place and I told Dad that I was going to buy 10 acres and put a minibarn type cabin on it or a small camper. He and Grandpa would always be welcome to hunt it, but that is not an arrangement that any of us would have enjoyed. We could never afford anything near where we live. If corn can be planted in it goes for $10,000 an acre, if it is even close to devolpmemt it can go for much much more, old farms get turned into horse or hobby farms, and woods are prime areas for some rich person to build in. Mom and Dad decided that they would go in half and we would try to stretch it to 30 or 40 acres. We really like the west central area of the State. Up and down the Wabash River from about interstate 70 to around state road 26 was our first target area. We changed our minds to the southern part because our dollar would go further, but the down side was that it was that it was going to be at least 2 hours from home.
 
My parents were visiting properties one weekend and decided to visit our cousin who hooked us up with our lease down there. A few miles down the road from his house, a for sale sign caught their eye. Turns out that it had been on the market for only a day or two. They drove down the lane and saw a huge mess with a lot of potential. They called me that night and I came down a few weeks later. I agreed that we should make a go for it. My poor wife bought a farm that she didn't get to see until the day we closed on it the Friday before Labor Day Weekend. Labor Day Weekend 2015 brought 100 degree temperatures to Indiana and we trying to clean up a farm with no running water or electricity in the middle of no where. We ended up renting a hotel room for the women and children; while we men fought the temperatures in a 200 dollar pop up camper. Luckly once the power company came and contected the power, the lights came on. All in all it has been a fun year. We have spent every extra penny and spare time working on the place. Luckily we can do it ourselves, have family that can do it, willing friends, and my dad has lots of construction contacts. I hope you enjoy me and seeing our farm. Hopefully you will see my kids and nieces enjoying the place.
 
Scored 8 clearance apple trees today. Some aren't the best varierties for wildlife, I'll graft over them. I bought a Granny Smith which I have been wanting to try. For $7.50 each I didn't figure I could go too wrong.
 
My dad reports that I have a few chestnuts on what I believe to be an American chestnut located beside the Dugout. I have been meaning to get pictures of the tree for 100% identification, but I have not been to the farm in awhile. I'm going this weekend. Maybe I will get some home grown Hoosier seedlings. The previous owners were known to collect rare and exotic trees; I hope they collected a blight resistant American nut to go with that awful tree of heaven that got the saw.
 
Enjoying the history. Thats a great deal on those trees. I believe i would have picked up a few myself.
 
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