THE BACK ACHE BUCK

I hate to give away the ending so early in the story but this is the Back Ache Buck.

Earlier in the year, Ron Turner and I were invited by our very good friend Myron Watson to hunt his farm in Crawfordville, Indiana. We were both anxious to see Myron as well as to hunt the big bucks that are prevalent on and around his farm. The year before we had hunted with Myron but I was forced to cut our trip short due to an illness back home in my family. I felt bad because Ron had only hunted a day and a half when we had to return to Texas.

When Ron and I made plans to go again, we set it up with Myron and picked the best time. A few days before leaving I moved some heavy stuff and pulled something in my back. That was not stopping me from going hunting, but it did slow me down quite a bit, because I could not stand up straight without a lot of pain and trouble. After Ron got off work Friday evening we loaded his Nissan Pathfinder. I don’t know where all the equipment came from. You would think we were going for a year. It was a good thing we weren’t because we couldn’t have fit anything else in without staying behind ourselves. We drove all night. My back did OK as long as I was sitting, but when we stopped to eat I could barely move around. It was tough. We arrived the next morning at 11:00.

Myron rode us around to look at his new stand locations and we saw several rubs and scrapes. Ron hunted Saturday evening but I decided it was best for my back to stay in camp to rest up. Sunday morning we both hunted and both saw deer. Ron told me he wanted to set another stand closer to where he had seen the deer pass through that morning. I also had a place to set a stand but I wanted to sit down more. Myron and Ron went out on the four wheeler and set up Ron’s new stand site.

It came time to hunt that evening, but I still wasn’t moving around any better. I decided to stay in camp. Ron said no. He said, “Look, there are two stands in the area I hunted this morning. I can drop you off right at the base of your tree with the four wheeler and pick you up.”

I argued a little about the stands being close. I didn’t want to mess him up. But Ron said he thought the stands were about fifty yards apart and he kept coaxing me so off we went. It was Sunday evening on the second day of our hunt. The weather was great and I really didn’t want to set in camp. Ron dropped me off right at the tree he had hunted that morning. As I climbed up to the treestand he drove off on the four wheeler to park it.

I saw him walk under my tree but was busy getting ready and didn’t pay attention to where he went. I thought for sure I would be able to pick him out if he was anywhere close, but when I looked I couldn’t find him.

After awhile a doe came up from the tall grass behind me and looked back. She stopped briefly on a trail that led past my tree and then moved off quickly into the heavy brush in front of me. A buck appeared from the same place the doe had and I got ready, but when he got in range he was a smaller buck and I relaxed. He stood in the trail for quite some time and finally moved off into the heavy brush, still in sight. Then I saw movement behind me again and spotted horns with long main beams and long tines coming though the tall grass. I got excited. He was on the same trail that the doe and the buck before him had gone and I had studied the shot. It was 32-34 yards. I had already taken deer in Illinois and Texas with my new PSE Brute Force and I had all the confidence in the world in it. There were two big trees on the edge of the trail that would hide me while I drew. As he went behind them I came to full draw, but he stopped. I could see his tail and nothing else.

The lesser buck was still in sight but the doe was gone. Finally I had to let down. I waited. The buck I wanted stepped out into the open and stood broadside concentrating on something ahead of him that I couldn’t see. I drew back, picked my spot and let the arrow fly. It looked like a heart shot. After a short wait I crawled down the tree--amazingly feeling better--and snuck over to check my arrow. I was looking for my arrow when ten yards away, on the back side of a monster tree, Ron said, “It’s right over there.”

I didn’t know what to say! I didn’t know he was there! He talked me into hunting in his area. He put me in his stand. And I shot the big buck right out from under him.

There was a roadmap blood trail but Ron didn’t need it. He walked right to where the buck was and we had a little celebration of high fives. We got some great pictures and then checked the buck in at Bud’s Fish & Tackle Store in Crawfordville. It weighed 175 pounds and had a unique rack. The two main beams came around and almost touched in front and the tines were very long.

The next day it rained and the rest of the week was cold and snowy. Ron hunted hard all week. I rested up and spent time seeing the country with Myron. On Friday evening Ron got a nice buck that weighed 155 pounds. Maybe Ron will forgive me for shooting the buck from under his tree. And maybe he will eventually believe me when I say I didn’t know he was there. But I know I haven’t heard the last of it.

LEFT: Ron Turner with his buck. RIGHT: Myron Watson, Ron Turner and Terry Adams with the buck Terry took while we were there. I wonder why he didn't show me where he was hunting. Hmmmm.