Two Wall Hangers In The Same Day

It was the second week of muzzleloader season. I was sitting on a stand on the edge of the railroad tracks. The deer cross back and forth across the tracks all day especially during the rut.

            It was unseasonably warm for early November. I remember I didn’t even bring my coat.

            At about 6:30 not long after sunrise I saw something moving out of the corner of my eye. I put my muzzleloader up to my shoulder and looked through the scope. I saw two does quickly walking into the woods after just crossing the tracks. I was committed to not shooting anything but a buck. These deer were gone too quickly for me to have a shot anyway. But it got me excited that the deer were moving.

            About a half hour later I looked to my left and standing on the tracks was an antlered buck. I have never been able to count points while trying to get a shot on a deer. The adrenaline just takes over for me and all I can tell is big buck, good buck, or small buck. This was definitely a nice buck.

            I raised my muzzleloader and got him in the scope. He was standing still on the tracks about 60 yards to my left. I took a deep breath and slowly squeezed the trigger. Boom! When a muzzleloader goes off there is a big cloud of smoke so you are always hoping when the smoke clears you will see the animal lying there.

            The smoke cleared and there was no deer in sight. I had a lot of confidence I had made a good shot. But as time wore on I started to let doubt creep in. Did I flinch before the gun went off. Did I not hold the gun completely steady. I asked myself these questions but my confidence was high that I had made a good shot.

            It was only about 7:00 so there was quite a bit of hunting left to do and the deer were continuing to move.

            I saw several other does cross the tracks way down from me. I saw the squirrel running up and down the tree next to me and practiced focusing the scope on him.

            Then at about 9:00 I heard the distinct sound of something walking through the woods in front of me. I scanned side to side looking for something and then finally from the woods right in front of me emerged a set of antlers.

            This buck was bigger than the one I had already shot at. The deer was still in the woods with his head down. There is something about the way an antlered buck walks with his nose to the ground almost showing off his antlers that really excites me.

            Because the buck had his head down he wasn’t looking at me so it gave me the opportunity to get the gun to my shoulder and focus on him in the scope. The deer looked up and stopped walking. He was still in the woods. He hadn’t made his way all the way onto the tracks. But because he stopped walking it was my opportunity. I couldn’t wait. I breathed deeply and squeezed the trigger. Again Boom! Big cloud of smoke. No deer to be found and he had turned around and ran straight away from me.

            My dad called not much later and said “Another one!?”. I replied to him yep another buck even bigger than the last one.

            My dad came to help me look for the deer. The search was on and while I felt confident in the shots that were made, every second you are not looking at the deer on the ground doubt creeps in.

            We walked down the railroad tracks toward where I had shot at the first buck. I tried to identify landmarks to identify exactly where he was when I shot.

            There was a piece of orange tape hanging from a tree right near where he was standing. There was also the curvature of the railroad tracks that helped. I had an idea of where he was relative to the turn.

            We got near where I thought he was standing and started looking for blood. Then I saw it. A big pile of hair clearly from the deer. My dad looked at it and said “You obviously hit the animal”.

            All that doubt I had started to dissipate and excitement and gratitude set in. I stepped into the woods and found blood then only about 60 yards off the track lying there was a beautiful 8 point buck. I started smiling ear to ear as a I dragged him up onto the tracks.

            Unfortunately or maybe fortunately the work was not over. I still had to drag this deer out and look for another one. Once this deer was on the tracks where he could be easily seen and gotten to, to drag out later it was time to go look for the other one.

            We walked down to where the second buck was when I shot. He was closer to me than the first one so it was easier to tell where he had been. But he never made it all the way onto the tracks so looking for blood in the woods is a bit more difficult than on a wide open railroad track.

            We searched and scanned and no blood was to be found. But my dad went deeper into the woods while I kept searching for blood, again letting doubt creep in. Then all of the sudden I heard my dad yell for me to come to him. He had found the deer laying dead in the creek. A beautiful 9 point buck.

            My dad is admittedly a better fisherman than me. Every time we go fishing he catches a few without a doubt, and I believe I can count on one hand the amount of times I have caught more than him. But I often like to rebut that with “I’m a better deer hunter” and when he does try to argue I usually ask: Have you ever killed two wall hangers in the same day?

            I don’t actually have any full head mounts. But I do have several sets of antlers on my mantle. These two are very meaningful to me. The first bucks I had ever killed with a muzzleloader. And more than just trophies but memories of a great day of hunting.

            There are few feelings that make me feel more swollen with pride than killing a deer. But two nice bucks in the same day is really something special. It also makes all of those hours you spent in the woods worth it.

            I have walked out of the woods plenty of times after not seeing a deer and thought about the fact that I really did just sit in a tree for four hours for nothing. But days like this one make you remember how much it is all worth it. It’s some bragging rights and stories you can always tell that make deer hunting not just a hobby but a family tradition and something with a deep meaning.