James knew I had meetings in the morning and couldn't go hunting but he's a very intelligent 13-year-old. I knew the next question before he asked it. "Well, then, how about tomorrow evening, Dad -- please?"
In my heart I knew this would be a tough call. My very patient wife was nearing her wit's end with all this deer-hunting mania, hundreds of dollars spent on gear, and hiding hunting videos so she wouldn't find out we'd bought yet another new one. This behavior had been going on for 10 months with no end in sight. Now, breaking the Sabbath to take James hunting had her hanging from a thread.
That Sunday afternoon was not pretty at the Livingston house. Against my better judgment and personal convictions, I relented and agreed to take James back out for the evening.
A HEAVENLY REWARD?
Sunday evening came with a hard west wind. It had me baffled. How could I go back in there with a west wind? I knew that James would be so dialed-in on that location that nothing else would do, so we parked in a totally different location and started in. Thirty minutes in, we saw two does that were carefully working their way between a bean field and a thicket. I glassed for the often-present "trailing buck." Fifty yards behind the does, I spotted a large woody plant growing about 10 feet inside the bean field. It was about 200 yards from our location. As I focused on the odd plant and tried my best to identify it, it moved! Suddenly it raised its head, and the largest-antlered animal I have ever seen on the hoof loomed into view! I did a double take and confirmed that it really was a deer! My heart must be healthy. Otherwise I would have popped a valve right then and there!
I immediately dropped to my knees and worked toward James, who was standing 20 feet ahead of me. Emotion overcame me as I put my hands near my head to signal giant buck while simultaneously I whispered, "buck of a lifetime" under my labored breath. James clutched his binoculars and we both slowly inched to our feet for another look.
"Oh, Dad!" was all that James could muster and all I needed to hear. Translated that meant: "Yup, there he is and he's truly a monster!"
Given the distance and the fact that there was no way to use the sticks for a rest, we had no shot. No freehanded shot would do this animal justice, and we didn't even consider it. Our only hope was that the buck would continue to feed until he got to higher ground where we could get a better view and a possible shot.
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