By Glen Wunderlich Outdoor Columnist Member Professional Outdoor Media Association
Ready or not, here we go. Another firearms deer season opener is upon us and hundreds of thousands of Michigan hunters are taking to the woods and fields with high anticipation. Up-North businesses will get a genuine stimulus boost from men and women, who once again, will take part in the great tradition of deer hunting. Local retailers will share in the revenue generated from the hunting fraternity, as well. This is where preparation meets opportunity, but sometimes dumb luck is all that’s needed.
When I began hunting whitetails some 40 years ago, I knew virtually nothing about deer behavior. The little bit of information I had garnered came from my new in-laws, who were deeply steeped in tradition stemming from tent camping in the Gladwin area since the 1940s.
Since I was committed to joining the action, I needed a firearm and heeded the advice of my father in-law. He said the trusty 30-30 was a good choice and I had no reason to doubt him. So, off I went to Sears to get my first deer rifle – a lever-action Winchester model 94. For no particular reason, other than I thought it was cool, I changed the factory iron sights to a flip-up Williams sight. Big mistake. I ran out of adjustment on the rear sight and it shot about 10 inches high at 100 yards. So, I learned to compensate by aiming low, instead of changing the sights to something that actually worked correctly.
None of this really mattered for years, because I never saw a buck. At the time, Gladwin County had the highest population of whitetails in the state, but then, as now, the buck to doe ratio was way out of proportion. We would see dozens of deer but never a buck. In fact, for the first few years, nobody in camp ever got a buck. But, that never stopped any of us from pitching tents and carrying on the tradition.
Several days had already passed in the season of 1973 and, after another fruitless morning, I headed back to camp for lunch with my brother in-law, Doug. While there, shots rang out and they were close! I hurried toward the road with Doug to see the hind end of a deer running across Deer Road – yep, Deer Road. When Doug said it was a buck, I grabbed my lever gun and left Doug in the dust.
I never thought to check for a blood trail and just crossed the point where the deer entered the woods, which was actually a low, wet, brushy area. I fought my way well into the heavy cover, hoping blind luck would work in my favor. I couldn’t see more than 30 feet in any direction until I found a spot about a mile from the road where there was a small clearing of about 40 yards in diameter. Visibility was still poor but when I located a brush pile, I climbed on top of it for a better view.
I sat there for a half hour or so, when another shot was fired nearby. I couldn’t believe that anyone else was stupid enough to be in the heavy cover, but somebody obviously was. As fate would have it, a buck appeared in the small opening I was watching and I fired a shot. The deer kept going, so I let another go. Same result. After the third shot, the deer vanished amid the recoil and cover.
Within a minute or so, I found out who had taken the other shot before mine. Another hunter had shot at and tracked the wounded deer across the road and he had teamed up with my other brother in-law, Tom, who had no idea I was out there.
We located the downed deer after a short search, and of course, I figured I killed it. The other hunter claimed he had killed it and it just died near me. We agreed on a coin toss to settle the matter and I got it right. Tom and I struggled for hours dragging that half-rack beast back to Deer Road, after my first untrained session of field dressing. The beast dressed out at 174 pounds, still one of the bigger-bodied deer I have taken over the years and the largest ever at the Deer Road family camp. (Later, the other hunter admitted he couldn’t have killed the deer, because the entry wound was on the opposite side from his shot; it was correct for mine, however).
Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good and here’s wishing you deer hunters the best of luck.
