Hard Lessons Learned

   I asked y'all what you wanted to read about and one of the topics that really hit home for me was "hunting stories from growing up and lessons you've learned" (Thanks Curt). So I figured I'd tell two hunting stories from when I was younger where I was faced with what was, at the time, the biggest buck I had ever seen.

  First off, I'd like to admit, that as much as I would like to think I've learned from these encounters, this past season where I pulled my shot on what would have been the biggest buck of my life, has shown me that no matter how hard you practice or how much you learn, these deer will always take you to school.
  I was about 11-12 years old and I was hunting the lease we had in Morgan County, GA. I had been fortunate and killed a deer every year I had hunted. So with a little bit of experience under my belt, I began to read all I could in North American Whitetail and other outdoor magazines to try to capitalize on a big buck. The theme of the year, mid-day sits. Every article talked about how deer pattern hunters just about as much as we pattern them. To me, it made sense, we'd wake up really early in the morning, sit until about eleven or so, then go back to camp, hangout by the fire, eat lunch, play wiffleball or whatever until about four when we'd all head back out to the stand and sit until dark. This year however, was going to be different. I was dedicated, I had just gotten a brand new single seater stand form my dad that he and my godfather made by hand, it's still one of the most comfortable stands I have. I asked dad directly after the morning hunt if we could scout and hang my new stand. So we went to a spot where the road cut into a hill and deer tracks seemed to always cover the ground. It was an old clear cut area that had nice trails running all through the tall grass. I found a good tree and set up. It was about noon and I asked Dad, "can we start hunting now?" It was warm that day and we hadn't eaten anything yet, so we went back to camp had a sandwich and went back in the woods. Dad was worried about me hunting completely by myself so he set up his climber on a tree 50 yards away from me. I got all settled in and Dad said he was gonna go back to the ATV to get his coveralls on since it was going to get cold that evening. As he went back to change I began to think of all the possibilities that could potentially come from this new spot. I started to hear some crunching on leaves and breaking sticks, thinking it was my dad, I turned to watch him come in, only to find that it was a GIANT six point walking in on the same trail my dad just walked out on! He walked right next to Dad's climber and I got my rifle and settled on his shoulder.... POW!.... Missed! I reloaded but the deer never left! He just lifted his head and looked around, again... POW!.. Missed again!!! This time the buck starts to walk towards me! I reload again, forty yards and closing, I take a deep breath, then another, I settle on the shoulder, .... let half of my breath out, ... begin to slowly squeeze, ...and *click! I had forgotten to come all the way back on my bolt when I attempted to reload. As an emotional wreck, I rack my bolt back, jack a round in the chamber and just as I go to get settled, the buck spooks and takes off. Out of my life forever. I tried everything to get him to stop, but it was all in vain, he was gone.
   Many lessons were learned that day, I rushed my shot not once, but three times. Dad ended up seeing that buck the following archery season, but due to the lease rules (at least 4 points on one side for adults) he was unable to take him, and the "Monster 6" lived on.

  Fast forward about six years, we had lost that lease, but my friends had gotten me into bowhunting. For me, I wasn't completely sold on bowhunting at first due to having to be in close quarters to deer and I didn't think I had the patience to wait for a deer to close the distance from 100 yards when I could just take him with a rifle. Man, was I mistaken! My first bow kill was a three-legged hog. The rush of her coming in to fifteen yards, the THWACK! of my broadhead smacking her side as bright, red blood gushed out, will be a memory and an experience I won't ever forget, and it ended up becoming the catalyst that turned me into a die hard bowhunter. However, bowhunting has become the harshest teacher of all, and my first lesson was no exception.

   I had become extremely proficient with my old bow. It was handed down to me from my dad who told me that it was his first bow as well, a Bear Whitetail II. I was one of the better shots between me and my friends, and I shot through the local Bass Pro Shop 3D Pop-Up Course and was able to execute consistent kill shots. I had become proficient out to about 40 yards. Many trips to J.W. Corbett, all ending in heartbreak and my days of bowhunting Florida were getting short due to my enlistment into the U.S. Coast Guard. My basic training date was October 6th, and it was coming up fast. As a "thank you", our very good family friend, Clair, had given me his tag for killing a buck on the ranch I had been running around on as a kid. We were only ever allowed to kill hogs and on rare occasions, does, but never a buck; that was special. The first morning, Clair takes me to a stand on a corner where two fence lines meet, bordering a thick swamp that was closed to hunting. Not even ten minutes after he drops me off, a deer begins to feed on some acorns beneath my stand. I can tell its a deer, but it's too dark to tell if its a buck or not. As daylight comes in, it's revealed that the deer under my stand is a nice basket rack seven point, not what I'm looking for. I had seen the caliber of bucks on this property and this buck had a ton of potential, but he wasn't a 'shooter'. As the morning went on, I saw a bunch of little bucks run does all around out in the pasture, and even had a few small bucks come directly under my stand, but none of them were what I was looking for. The day went on, activity had slowed down, I had thought my morning sit was coming to an end, but then, an absolute giant buck steps out and begins to work his way towards me. I had seen my dad's buck from this ranch and this buck dwarfed his! I looked at him and thought "he's at least 50 yds out, I can't take that shot." I grunted at him, he lifted his head, looked my way, then continued on his way. I bleated at him, he looked my way, then continued on his way. He stopped in front of me broadside, but in my mind, he was too far out, so I passed on the shot. As I was sick to my stomach, trying to figure out if it was worth trying to put a stalk on this buck of a lifetime, I remembered, I HAVE A RANGEFINDER IN MY BAG!!! I had forgotten all about it, I pulled it out and ranged the little scrub bush this buck had stood in front of when he was broadside to me... 38 yards. Sick, is an understatement here I had this buck of a lifetime in my effective range and because I didn't utilize my gear, I let him walk. When Clair and my dad rolled up in the Jeep to get me, they said I cleared the stand in two steps and they knew I had seen a good one. I told them all about what happened. Dad had assured me that I had done the correct thing. I didn't take a shot that I was unsure of, but for giggles, we set up the Block target at 38 yards back at camp, I hit dead center of dead center.


  Every trip to the woods is a learning experience. Whether you're scouting, hunting, or even just following a random trail; you can always learn something from the woods. Maybe that's one of the things that brings us back, the thrill of gaining constant knowledge that will hopefully, one day, get us closer to that buck of a lifetime.

-Chris Johnson

What gets you outdoors?

   What gets you outdoors? Lately, I've decided if I want to begin to make more of an effort to not only be more consistent with my writing, but to conduct a major overall of my little "brand" in order to reflect not only what my true goal is, but to also be more methodical and professional in my approach. In the past I've been all over the place, trying to figure out what niche I had to use, what my target audience is, and overall how I can accomplish my goal of becoming a major name in the industry. In this recent "re-branding" effort, I've discovered my soul purpose for wanting to be a part of the industry, and it took a logo questionnaire to find it. I want to portray hunting in a positive light, I want to be the example for new hunters and help show anyone who's interested what it is that draws us to the outdoors. I want to have my audience feel the emotions along with me. I want y'all to laugh with me, cry with me, and basically have a front row seat on the emotional roller coaster these animals put me through. In finding this new goal, and with some help from my lovely wife, I've found myself asking what is it that draws me back, what got me into this in the first place, what is it that gets others into wanting to try their hand in the woods? In asking these questions, I've decided that this would be my topic tonight.

   Most people that begin hunting do so as a child, watching their dad go out and come back with magnificent critters that turn into delicious food. They become enthralled in the hunt camp, getting to ride around and look at deer, turkeys, or any other critters that they happen across. These little moments spark something in their soul that draws them back. I believe it's essential to take a child out hunting or fishing and to teach them not only a value for life, but the value of all of God's creation. My focus however, is on the adult that never had those opportunities growing up. It's hard for me to imagine not growing up chasing armadillos, or being told to go slap that cow on the butt; but that's the reality of most adults nowadays. No one ever took them outdoors, so they truly have no idea what they're missing. So how can we get these people outdoors? The easy answer is to take them ourselves, but taking them out late season in freezing temperatures or bringing them to a hunt camp where deer are hanging upside down with blood everywhere and a good ol' boy shoulder deep in a chest cavity probably isn't the best way to introduce someone to our beloved culture. Obviously everyone is different, and what may work for some won't necessarily work for others, but the way I introduced my wife into the outdoors was to ease her into it.

I realize hunting is not for everybody. Some people just don't like to think about the idea that they will be killing an animal. However, if a person is willing to try, then you could be the reason they come back, or decide hunting isn't for them. My wife was terrified of guns. On our second date, she came over to the house and I unloaded and took out every single gun I had. I showed her that the gun
itself is not to be afraid of, its the motives of the individual holding the gun you have to worry about. You could tell she understood, but all of her senses were screaming "Run!" After easing her into getting over that hurdle, I began watching hunting shows with her, primarily focussing on the season ahead, turkey season. I figured turkey isn't as strange as a deer might be due to it being more readily available in the grocery store. I taught her about the birds themselves, about how gobblers would strut and have spurs and beards. How there are certain seasons and bag limits for every animal, and regulations in place to help protect those animals. Then I began to transition into shot placement, explaining that with every shot you take, you want to be as ethical and efficient as possible so the animal won't suffer and dies humanely. Finally, the time came. I took her up to a friend's property where I would try to kill my first gobbler with a bow, and hopefully get her a chance at a bird as well. The first morning was spectacular, I had the decoys set out, and gobblers hammering off from all around us. I thought for sure it would be a quick hunt, then, silence. We weren't hearing any birds, so we began watching and laughing at the little red squirrel that was running across the roof of the ground blind. I let out a yelp sequence only to get an immediate response from a big gobbler right next to the blind. He had come in silent and began to strut the second he saw the decoys. She could see him all lit up in the sunlight, she heard him spit and drum as he made his way through the trees towards the decoys. As he entered my shooting lane I drew back, and made my shot. To my pleasant surprise, he dropped immediately, no flapping, no running off, just immediately fell over, dead. I couldn't have asked for a better kill. We ran out and got to my bird and she got to see the adrenaline dump and feel the emotions I felt as we all celebrated my first bow bird.

  I asked my wife, what made you want to start hunting, what was it that made you decide "this is for me" and she said, "I saw how passionate you were about it, I got to feel the excitement of it all and just fell in love with everything". That answer alone was a good enough indicator that I was successful in introducing a new hunter to the outdoors.

   It's easy for us to take for granted all the experiences we had growing up, but if you can, take a friend out to the woods, take a relative, a co-worker, or even a complete stranger; get them interested, and try to have them jump on that emotional roller coaster with you. At the end of the day, what's the worst that can happen? They decide it isn't for them and you're right where you started, but for them, they'll have a memory that will last them a lifetime about "the one time I went hunting" and hopefully have a greater understanding and appreciation for what we do.

-Chris Johnson