Today’s blog is from Pierce Moore from Ohio. I saw Pierce’s buck on Twitter and asked him to write a post for us. What I love most about this story is that the 19-year-old’s exuberance and passion for deer hunting jump right out at you. We need young men like Pierce to keep this great gig of ours going: the ongoing quest for BIG DEER done the right way, with fun and class and respect. Awesome buck and post Pierce, thanks for sharing.—M.H.
The Perfect Morning
It was the morning of November 7th, 2013, the day that I had requested off to go deer hunting back in July. I knew the first couple weeks in November were the magical weeks to be in the deer woods. Little did I know what was in store for me on this morning…
It was a frosty morning in southern Ohio. I had a northwest wind blowing directly into an unpicked cornfield. It was 8:45 and I had yet to see a deer, when I decided to pick up my rattle bag and grunt call. I started off with a few tending grunts followed by the crashing sound of my rattle bag. After my rattling sequence I ended my calling session with a loud snort-wheeze.
Shortly thereafter, a young 5-point buck came running out of the thicket to my left. Judging by his body language I figured he had just been scared out of the thicket by something much bigger than him. Five minutes had passed when I looked 70 yards into the thicket and saw the biggest deer I had ever seen while in the woods hunting.
As the buck made his way through the thicket, I looked at his rack one time; I noticed a split G-2 and made the assumption that he was a main-frame 10. Then I immediately turned my head to regain my composure.
As the brute was at 40 yards and closing, I turned and waited for my chance to get my bow drawn. He stepped behind a tree and I quickly, but cautiously, drew my Hoyt Spyder Turbo and moved it back on the beast. As he made his way out from behind the tree, he was slightly quartering toward me, making my target much smaller than if he had been quartering away or broadside.
The monster stepped into my shooting lane at 25 yards. I softly bleated to get him to come to a stop. I let the arrow fly and made a lethal hit. As I watched the buck of my dreams running away to his death I completely fell apart, shaking so badly with excitement that I had to sit down.
The buck was out at 60 yards and his tail started flickering, and I could tell that he was slightly off balance, and prayed that he would just fall. I called my dad and my hunting buddy to help me track him. We gave it a couple of hours just to be on the safe side, then made our way to the spot where I had taken the shot. We immediately found good blood and started tracking.
We made our way through the woods toward an old pond. We lost blood just twenty yards short of the pond and my heart dropped as I started to question if we were going to find the brute. My friend and I started to circle around the pond when all of a sudden he yelled, “There he is!” I looked across the pond and saw the left side of the beast’s rack protruding from the water. I ran around the pond, went out to the edge and reached out to get my prize.
As my dad and I pulled the buck out of the water I was in shock and awe! I have experienced “ground shrinkage” before with previous bucks, but I had never heard of “ground growthage.” I was simply amazed at what I was looking at: 12 main-frame points, split brow tines, a three-inch sticker coming off his main beam, a split G-2 on his right side and a slight palmation with a hole in it (calcium deposit). The amount of character I was looking at was simply unreal.
At that moment I had never felt more rewarded. Being 19 and after hunting for 10 years I had yet to take a buck of that stature. To have the opportunity to take down a giant whitetail and capitalize using my compound, I felt blessed. November 7th was truly the perfect morning, one that I will never forget.–Pierce Moore