The Perfect Deer Hunt

It’s a cold Wisconsin morning for the opening of deer season. My alarm goes off at 4:30 and it’s the rare occasion that I’ve already been up for 20 minutes anticipating the action of the morning. Wisconsin gun deer season is only one week long. Every week of thanksgiving from the Saturday before to the following Sunday.

This particular opening day it’s about 10 degrees and I’m the only thing remotely awake. I creep to the basement without waking the rest of the house, grab every piece or warm clothing I laid out, my 30-06 and a backpack full of extra gloves and venison sticks from last year’s hunt. Blaring my hunting playlist so the whole county can hear me, I rip down the back roads to the farm we’re hunting.

Half a mile hike down the driveway and up a tree, I’m in the stand by 5:45 for a 6:19 open. As the next 30 minutes pass, I watch outlines of deer antlers slowly turn into the branches they really are, a possum slump by, and a great horned owl swoop onto the big oak four trees over with a squirrel in its talon.

Shooting time comes and goes and many a squirrel give me small heart attacks throughout the first hour. A few does are eating out in the field, but movement is relatively slow. Typically come 10am I’m out of the stand and getting a warm cup of coffee at the nearby diner. This year I decided that for opening day I’m going to tough out an all-day hunt. A great idea in below freezing temps? Probably not, but may as well try it.

Around 11 I hear what I again assume is another one of those damned red squirrels rustling around in the leaves behind me. I turn and as any hunter knows my heart instantly starts racing as I see two does being chased by a large 8 point buck about 60 yards out. Late November in Wisconsin there are no leaves on the trees, so everything is relatively easy to see for them and for me. They spook before I can get my gun up.

Thinking I’ve completely blown it, I hold still for 20 minutes watching for movement in the distant trees. Finally, I get lucky and they come waltzing back my way. They didn’t bust me, just got startled. They slowly trudge forward, quieter than before, and I let them get to 20 yards before I’m able to get my gun up without them spooking. A good buck at 20 yards – I wish every hunt went like this. I wait until his vitals pear out from the tree he’s behind and let the trigger loose. A perfect shot to the heart and he stumbles about 15 yards before tumbling over.

Not realizing I hit him in the heart I let the shakes out for a long while to make sure he’s good and gone before climbing out of the stand. My heart finally settled down a bit and I make my way over to the new biggest deer on my wall. Now the hard part begins. Luckily a cold dark 10 degrees gave way to a sunny 25-degree day so holding a knife wasn’t a near impossible task.

Gutted cleaned and off to the butcher we go.