Before rifle season, I caught word of a Big Buck contest that the local check station was having and the day before opening morning I had decided to enter in hopes of winning bragging rights of bagging the biggest buck of the season!
As I walked in the door with my work clothes, make-up, and freshly curled hair the clerk asked, “Can I help you?”
I quickly said, “I want to enter the Big Buck contest.” And I laid my ten dollars on the counter.
The clerk kind of sneered and said, “YOU want to enter the contest?”
I smiled and said, “yeah”! I signed my name and left.
After hunting day and evening, I had seen some pretty good bucks but just couldn’t get a good shot. I passed up smaller bucks and thought…good things come to those who wait! My Dad had told me about a pretty good eight point that had been in a fight and wasn’t getting around that great and we soon nicknamed him Ol’ Gimpy.
One night after an evening hunt, Dad and I were talking about Ol’ Gimpy and he compared him to a pretty good-looking buck on his wall full of trophy bucks. I shortly decided that Ol’ Gimpy might just need to be on my much smaller trophy wall.
The following evening I got off work a little late and decided all I needed for a trip to the woods was my camo coat, gun, orange safety vest and bullets; luckily they were in my vehicle from the previous hunt. I was off to my hunting spot!
I got settled in my blind, patiently waiting for a big buck to make an appearance. About an hour before dark, something came hobbling out of the trees onto the wheat field that I was hunting. There he was! It was Ol’ Gimpy! I had decided to take a shot at him, feeling pretty confident even though it was about a two hundred and fifty yard shot and I had never shot that far before. BOOM!!!
After the shot I soon realized that it probably was not a good shot by the way Ol’ Gimpy had suddenly managed a spring in his step and ran off like the wind. I quickly got out of my blind to see if I could find any blood; all the while knowing in the back of my mind that the shot was a clean miss.
As I walked into the woods where Ol’ Gimpy ran, I searched for blood. I found only tracks where he high-tailed it off of the wheat field. I was bummed! Not only because I missed but also because I was going to have to explain to my dad, who probably heard the shot, that I had indeed shot but there was no buck on the ground.
Suddenly, I heard something about twenty yards in front of me. I was about to be face to face with a gigantic buck! I knelt down and realized that my rifle was empty! I dug out another bullet from my pocket, struggling with my sling and my orange safety vest. Finally, I got my sling and gun off my shoulder and loaded my gun in what seemed like a second. I rose up slowly and waited.
There he was looking at me, my new trophy buck, a beautiful one hundred fifty-six pound, nine point whitetail deer. All thanks to Ol’ Gimpy!
As of right now, I’m in second place for the big buck contest but I think I still showed the clerk at the check station that I AM a hunter, even though I AM a “girly-girl”
(Phot Credit: Carlee Magness)