There’s a view that outdoor writers spend way more of their time outdoors than writing. But the realities of generating editorial content make that an impossible ratio to maintain, particularly when one’s pet topic is as seasonal as deer hunting. For the most part, we who label ourselves "professional whitetail communicators" are surrounded by four walls -- and I’m not talking about the sides of a box blind.
Of course, in autumn and early winter the ratio does swing the other way a bit. The degree to which it does varies from job to job and person to person. In my own case, there’s now quite a bit of time outdoors, mainly due to the ongoing need to acquire video footage for North American Whitetail Television presented by Arctic Cat. Since I became intimately involved in the show’s production several years ago, I’ve found myself spending more and more time in the deer woods from September into January.
Deer hunting with a cameraman isn’t as much fun as regular deer hunting, but it’s closer than shuffling paperwork ever could be. So, in addition to being thrilled with how well the show has been received, I’m glad to have a good reason to spend more time outdoors. I’m only half-joking when I say I now have the job many people assume I’ve had ever since I started at North American Whitetail (the magazine) more than a quarter-century ago. Honestly, I now hunt deer as many days in a year as I once did in five.
While I try to chronicle these comings and goings in this part of our Web site, I’m perpetually behind schedule in doing so. When a cameraman and I hit the field, it’s a whirlwind, with so many logistics to deal with that anything that could even loosely be described as "serious" writing takes a backseat. And frankly, I’d rather write nothing than string together a bunch of blather no fellow deer hunter would have reason to care about. (This isn’t a jab at those who keep the world informed of everything that happens in their daily lives, but I’m unconvinced the world needs me to "tweet" every time I ponder the critical choice of Splenda vs. NutraSweet in my morning coffee.)
Now that I’ve proved myself as guilty as anyone else in the fine art of drivel, let me actually bring up something you might find of interest: my recent trip to Ohio.
I’ve spent a lot of time in the Buckeye State over the years, and in every instance, it’s been related to whitetails. I’ve presented many seminars there, whether to small gatherings of local Amish farmers, the state’s association of deer breeders or to larger audiences at the annual Ohio Deer & Turkey Expo. (FYI, I’ll be back at the expo this March as well, to talk food plots for whitetails; see www.deerinfo.com.)
Ohio is a great state for trophy whitetails, and it’s certainly one of the nation’s biggest deer-hunting markets. And I’ve hunted there a number of times over the years. Unfortunately, I’ve never really prioritized it, and that probably speaks to my overall lack of intelligence. With the number of giant bucks being shot in Ohio every year, I have a hard time explaining -- even to myself -- why I haven’t spent more time in those woods. It’s simply too good and too convenient a state to ignore.
In November 2009, I attempted to remedy that oversight somewhat, by traveling to Licking County with cameraman Mike Clerkin. We’d been invited on a rut hunt, hosted by Kim Metheny of Flint Ridge Farms and the folks who build TenPoint crossbows. Also along on the hunt were our good friends Haley and G.O. Heath, hosts of Haley Heath’s Family Traditions show on Sportsman Channel.
Plenty of monster bucks have been shot on and around this land over the years; in fact, back in 2003, Kim herself took the world’s largest typical ever shot by a female crossbow hunter. And we did see plenty of bucks during our five days of hunting last fall. But even with the able guidance of Kim and her friends Buzz and Chris Hall (two highly accomplished trophy hunters in their own right), we all came up empty. Seems the mature bucks in this part of Ohio, like those elsewhere in the Midwest last fall, weren’t moving too dependably in daylight.
Oh well, so it goes sometimes. (Don’t believe for a moment that every TV hunt ends with the hunter shooting a TV buck; the deer always have a vote in the outcome.) So we headed back to northern Missouri for a bowhunt, figuring my Ohio deer tag might well go unused.
But we had a backup plan, of sorts: We could hunt there again in January, with a muzzleloader, just prior to the annual Archery Trade Association’s annual show in Columbus. And so, as the new year rolled in, Mike and I made our preparations for a return engagement.
In the past, I’d hunted a bit with my friend Steve Pinkston, a highly successful trophy chaser who lives a few miles north of Columbus. With the ATA Show being held not far from his home, and with several good bucks having been seen in that portion of Delaware County during the post-rut, I decided to give that a spin.
Glad we did. On the third afternoon of the four-day season, as Mike and I were perched in our stand just inside a large block of hardwood timber, a number of whitetails began coming out to feed. Most were does and fawns, but behind them were three bucks -- one of them a solid 8-pointer Steve had seen on several occasions. When that deer stopped broadside within 40 yards, I put the crosshairs of the Nikon BDC scope on his vitals and squeezed the trigger. The Thompson/Center Black Diamond belched, sending a 240-grain Hornady sabot round straight into the top of the deer’s heart. He ran perhaps 80 yards before crashing into the snowy brush, stone dead.
I’m proud of this buck, and not just because he’s my first Ohio whitetail. Fact is, late-season bucks nearly always are earned. We had nasty weather to contend with, and the state’s peculiar gun-hunting hours -- you can’t legally shoot past sunset -- definitely didn’t make things any easier. (I’m curious about why such a restriction exists, given that it’s legal to shoot as early as a half-hour before sunrise.)
I don’t know whether to call this my last buck of the season or my first of 2010. Either way, as Mike and I made our way the few miles south to the ATA Show, I was quite happy no longer to have a tag in my pocket. And I was eager to see what new archery-related goodies might be revealed at the Columbus Convention Center. But what we found there is another story -- one I promise not to fall too far behind in telling.
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