Lessons Learned

Lessons Learned
By George Mitchell

Most of us who are passionate about hunting whitetails understand that each season brings forth new excitement. Being so blessed, we learn and grow from the hunting experience; adding to the wealth of lifelong memories. This story is one of learning. Not just any type of learning but that, which makes a seasoned hunter feel like a freshman taking whitetail 101.

During the previous season, I had almost missed an opportunity at what turned out to be the largest buck I have ever taken. Low light and poor optics selection were the primary culprits. Understanding that low light is prime time for big buck movement, I invested in some quality optics (Swarovski binoculars and a Zeiss 3X12X56 scope). At this point I was feeling somewhat proud of the lesson I had learned, and confident I had the advantage during those last few golden minutes of daylight. Moreover, I could not wait for a return trip to Alabama to put this new equipment to the test.

After what seemed like an eternity, January arrived and it was time for my annual trip to Tatum Creek Hunting Camp, which is located in the famous “black belt” region of Alabama. Anticipation was high and the 7-hour drive once again flew by. Seeing several deer in fields along the Interstate had helped build excitement. Needless to say, when I made the turn off Alabama Hwy 22 onto the southwest entrance of the camp property, I was ready for some serious hunting. After being greeted by my friend Matt Free, I stowed my gear and got the latest details on how the rut was progressing. The weather had cooperated and all the signs pointed to the next three-days being primetime in the deer woods. There is something real special about hunting Tatum Creek during the rut.

After some more friendly conversation and introductions to another group of hunters who were finishing their hunt, Matt asked what time I wanted to head out for the evening hunt. I had not planned on hunting that evening, but jumped at the chance. I was ready in a flash and we headed out in his new fangled, high stepping, golf cart. Matt dropped me off at a shooting house overlooking a large green-patch. The field was surrounded on two sides by hardwoods and the remainder by pines.

After getting situated, I ranged the field (226 yards to the back edge) and settled into hunt mode. Long about dark, I spotted a rack about 150 yards to my left just inside the wood line. I raised my binoculars and could pick out the buck’s outline but could not get a clear look at the whole deer. What I did see were 8-inch G2’s and G3’s. In my mind there was no doubt this was a shooter. The buck continued to circle just inside the wood line. Occasionally stopping to test the wind for the scent of a hot doe. I switched from binoculars to scope and slowly opened the window to the shooting house. The buck was at the left end of the field but too far back in the woods to risk a shot. I lost sight of him as he went behind a thick spot. By this time shooting light was almost gone, and I could still not locate the buck. I frantically panned across the entire back edge of the field and was finally able to spot him at the wood line in the opposite corner. That should have been my first clue that something was not quite right but in the excitement it slipped by unnoticed. In retrospect, I remember seeing antlers through the scope and then concentrating on shot placement.

The muzzle flash of my 300 Weatherby caused me to lose sight of the buck once again. This time I was not concerned and felt confident I had hit my mark. After taking a few minutes to regain my composure, I grabbed my flashlight and climbed out of the shooting house. In anticipation, I started out across the field. I could not wait to get a good look at this buck.

Elation turned to shock, when the flashlight illuminated one of the most beautiful high-racked 1 1/2 year old 6-pointers I have ever seen. I had managed to shoot the wrong buck! In the excitement it had not crossed my mind that the shooter buck would head for parts unknown and another might come in to feed. This impressive youngster was nowhere close to meeting the fifteen-inch inside spread size restriction. Needless to say the price of venison just went up in a big way. Lesson Learned!