By Glen Wunderlich Outdoor Columnist Member Professional Outdoor Media Assoication
On a recent trip to West Virginia, my hunting partner, Steve McComas, and I spent most of the day in search of groundhogs (aka woodchucks). But, wherever we went, the consensus was the same: Coyotes got ’em all. Judging from groundhog numbers I have seen in the past in the wild and wonderful fields and hills of the Mountain State, there may be some truth in what the good ‘ol boys believe. The only one we spotted after searching high and low most of the day was in a field off limits to us. Too bad for Steve’s wife, Tiny, who wanted a “half-old” one for the skillet.
Steve and I agreed to give coyote hunting a try the next time around but still wanted to have a little fun before the end of the day. So we packed a couple of .22 caliber pistols in his 4-wheel drive pickup truck and headed up the mountain behind his house in Lincoln County along One Mile Creek Road for some target practice. I thought it would be a good idea to take a few photos, so I made sure to take my camera with me.
The truck muscled its way across the washed-out, rock-laden trail toward the top, where we were to plink away near his cabin site overlooking a small orchard on some rare flat ground. When we reached the top, Steve spotted a lone, mature doe standing broadside some 30 yards from us, which led me to comment that she probably had fawns nearby. We stopped briefly to get a good look and proceeded to the cabin, where we noticed a couple of wild turkeys feeding in the tall grass. We waited for them to clear the area and I began unloading gear on a picnic table for the shooting session, when Steve said, “Look! A couple of fawns!”
I swung into action with my camera hoping to get a photo before they rejoined their mother that we had seen just minutes before. They were partially obscured by a camper, so I slowly began to approach them for a clear photo angle. As I moved closer, one of the two fawns began to come directly toward me! I couldn’t believe my good fortune and clicked the shutter as fast as it would allow.
We were both in amazement, as the buck fawn came right up to me, while its sibling had lain down nearby in the open behind the cabin – still only 30 feet from us. I realize I probably shouldn’t have touched the little critter, but I couldn’t help but pet its head and back for a brief moment and took more close-up photos and even a short video clip. In short order, the youngster wobbled beyond me, as if it had been sampling a bit of local moonshine. There was no question that merely walking was quite a chore for the newborn, as the deer without fear joined its sibling in a bit of a crash landing.
Steve put the gear back into the truck and wondered aloud how we could get back down the mountain with the two at the edge of the trail, so I stood by the pair to make sure they wouldn’t get in the way, as he inched past us. I jumped in the passenger seat and our aborted plinking session was convened near the house far from our exciting encounter with nature.
A word to the wise: Confronting fawns in the wild this time of year is not uncommon and the best course of action is to assume that mother is near and that she will care for them when you leave.
