By Glen Wunderlich
Charter Member Professional Outdoor Media Association (POMA)
With Michigan’s regular firearms season half over, I headed afield with my pal, Joe Reynolds. We had shared a heated blind a couple of times beginning with opening day November 15th. Lots of excitement in the early morning hours when we spotted two good bucks that closed to within 150 yards or so. However, there wasn’t enough light to make out any detail, so we let them walk. Sometime later, we heard a gunshot ring out and we assumed the unfriendly neighbors took one out.
We saw a total of 10 bucks on that day, but nothing measured up; we were hoping for something relatively large with at least four antler points per side – my personal restriction in the interest of growing big bucks down the road.
The next morning, things had already slowed, but we were able to view an additional six bucks – all apparent yearlings, so we kept with our discipline. I went out one more morning and things got a bit slimmer.
Then Joe contacted me for the next adventure – already eight days into the season and I was ready, willing, and able, so we settled on the afternoon shift. We were both toting our Ruger American rifles in .450 Bushmaster caliber.
Joe’s deer buster sported a fine Leupold Vari X III in 3.5×10 power with a 50mm objective lens. My suppressed gun was topped with an older Zeiss Diavari variable scope in 1.5 to 4.5 power. My go-to ammo has been Federal Premium loaded with Barnes’ venerable 250-grain X bullets – a favorite of mine for years.
I had used this same load for years and it has proven not only accurate, but deadly – never needing more than one shot. The combo would prove its worth, once again, as twilight set in. We let a basket-rack eight points come and go at 100 yards, hoping for something better.
With less than an hour remaining in the session, we watched a yet another apparent yearling 8-point amble across the clover field. We had seen this buck before with its basket-rack and short brow tines. We hung in there never looking back.
A few does and fawns made the same journey between 100 to 125 yards, which was enough to keep our attention. Then I spotted a white rack entering the field at over 150 yards. Upon immediate consideration, it looked to be a sizeable buck with tall and wide headgear. Joe coaxed me into taking it, but I wanted it to present a better opportunity, and it certainly cooperated; I watched and waited, as it got into the center of the field directly in front of us at 108 yards.
Finally, the moment had come to lean on the trigger of the Ruger, but it sure seemed awfully difficult to release. Dang dummy! Safety was still on and if one thinks this veteran of some six decades of deer hunting would be relaxed, well, I just wasn’t.
A touch of buck fever caught me flinching! Good thing that safety did its job. I realized I had better get a grip and calmed down when the prize turned quartering away. A smooth trigger pull and muffled belch was followed by the obvious mule kick and the whomping sound of that copper hollow point Barnes projectile. I instinctively knew it was a dead deer running.
Joe and I watched intently, as the buck scampered some 70 yards and fell to the ground in plain view. We stayed put for ten minutes to make sure we didn’t pressure it, just in case it had some fight left; it didn’t. We marched across the field for a few photos.
Back to the garage where Joe’s tracking dog – a German Shorthair Pointer was resting. Even though we had already knew the outcome, we wanted to give Junior the excitement he lives for. He sure knew the drill as soon as he sniffed my clothes already saturated with scent after taking a few photos.
Junior dragged Joe to the scene – and, I mean dragged in furious glee. Although the six point buck lacked typical brow tines, the body size made up for any violation of my 8-point rule. A good buck nonetheless and one I’ll not forget.
Mid-Michigan 6-point buck
