When we reached our destination well before daybreak, the area was cloaked with a heavy fog. I was truly humbled as I first sat down in the same spot where my hunt had ended the previous year with the taking of a B&C typical. My mind immediately was flooded with memories of what those last few closing moments had meant. After settling in, I softly spoke words of acknowledgment to my good luck charm up above, and the hunt was on.

The action began quickly. I saw my first deer within 10 minutes of arrival, and I continued to enjoy steady deer traffic for most of the day. The time flew by, and although darkness ended the day without a buck, it was a fun and exciting first day.

On Tuesday, Nov. 8, 2005, the second day of the hunt, I awoke eager for another crack at a big Canadian whitetail. The temperature was a crisp 26 degrees with no wind and only a hint of fog in the air. I returned to the same elevated blind, but unlike the first day, there was literally no early action. By 1 p.m., after having seen only one small deer, I decided to take a short break.

For rejuvenation, I broke out my lunch and quickly consumed its contents while contemplating my afternoon strategy. By 3:30 p.m., it was still very quiet. To shake things up a bit, I attempted a few rattling sequences, but they rendered no results. Disappointed, I decided to finish the last of my drink, stretch my legs one final time, and prepare to wait for the best part of the day -- last shooting light.

TWO TIMES IN TWO YEARS!
At 5 p.m., I sat motionless and anxiously monitored my surroundings. The woods were blanketed with eerie silence. I suddenly noticed movement to my right. Alerted, I strained my eyes and saw a deer slide quietly through the brush. It was a doe leisurely making her way toward me. I automatically fixed my stare behind her, hoping to see a buck on her trail. But it was "no dice" as she seemingly was alone. Disappointed, I exhaled, relaxed back into the chair, propped my Browning .30-06 in front of me, and scanned the trees for further movement.

At 5:15 p.m., as I watched the doe feed about 60 yards off to my right, she lifted her head and looked, curious, behind her toward the trees. My gaze followed the direction of her head. I caught a spot of dark movement against the snow-covered backdrop. I leaned forward to get a closer look. It was a deer, and not just any deer . . . it was a buck!

With stealthy precision, he gradually materialized from the protective cover of the woods. When he finally emerged, he was walking a parallel line to me at about 120 yards. I knew that I needed to get his attention and try to turn him toward me. I quickly grabbed my grunt call, raised it to my lips, and aimed it in his direction. Then I softly forced two quick thrusts of air into the tube. The call emitted a deep, guttural, throaty sound . . . errrp! errrp!

As if interested, the buck stopped in mid-stride, turned his head in my direction, and then walked straight toward the doe.

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