It was a snowy December day, and I could feel the below-zero wind chill as I topped the hill to check for deer. Just below me I could see five does bedded down in a brushpile, seeking shelter from the wind. A second later they caught my movement and headed across the open hillside. Taking careful aim with the old Remington Model 11 shotgun that my grandfather had passed down to me, I harvested my first deer, a doe.

Just at the critical moment when this brute was about to step within bow range, Scott McIntire "dinged" his stand with his rattling antlers, and the monster quickly retreated. When Scott made a last-ditch effort to rattle again, a smaller buck came charging in, and Mr. Big came back.

I was 16 then, and since I shared that hunt with my dad and grandfather, it will be etched in my mind forever. Today, hunting whitetails has become my obsession. Now at 50, whether I'm hunting alone or hunting with family and friends, the thrill of the hunt and nature's splendor have never failed to impress me.

NOTHING LIKE BOWHUNTING
I started bowhunting several years ago. To me it's a sport that offers both an opportunity to enjoy the quiet solitude of the outdoors and the ultimate hunting challenge. To get close enough to one of nature's most magnificent animals in hopes of making the harvest while your heart is trying its best to pound its way out of your chest is an experience like none other! Each time you take the field, you carry with you the thought that maybe today you will see the buck of a lifetime. That amazing day finally came for me on Nov. 18, 2006.

During the 2005 archery season, my good friend Gordy Edwards and I drove to a new area that we'd been planning to check out. As it was early afternoon, we hiked back into a funnel south of a large creek bottom bedding area. As we approached the bottom, we noticed several large scrapes and rub lines running along both sides of the creek.

Since we both had climbing stands with us, we split up. I got on one side of the creek and Gordy took the other. After we'd gotten settled in for the afternoon hunt, a light rain began to fall. It soon turned into a torrential downpour, and lightning forced us to call it a day.

Within a few days, Gordy and I were fortunate enough to harvest nice bucks. That ended the 2005 bow season for us, and we never had another opportunity to return to that promising creek bottom that year. However, we made up our minds that in 2006 we'd return early in the season and try to put up at least one permanent stand along the large scrape line.

LOOKING FOR MR. BIG
The 2006 bow season finally arrived. In early October, Gordy and I were out one day putting up stands in another area when we decided to take a stand back to that old creek bottom "honeyhole." Once back along the creek bottleneck, we found a large oak tree that gave us excellent cover as well as several shooting lanes.

We were just starting to see a few early rubs on small trees, and the tree was located within shooting distance of at least three trails. We decided to install the stand about 25 feet up that oak tree with hopes that we could intercept the old monarch that had made his mark so apparent in 2005.

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