Opening Day

A number of years ago, I received a call prior to the season opener inviting me up for a hunt in San Saba county.  It was a place I knew and admired - around 700 acres, numerous deer, hogs, wild goats, turkeys and varmints with a tank full of catfish.  I'm not sure I've ever hunted a better place.  As there was another section of land available much more open with less brush, everyone else on the lease elected to hunt there opening morning which gave me this whole place for myself.  Wow.  With no one else on the property, I decided to still hunt through the cedars and live oaks.  I made my way through the gate before daylight and parked the truck up on the ridge just inside  I grabbed my binoculars and rifle, chambered a cartridge, and began hunting towards the tank. 

Opening morning brings a freshness of energy, a newness to life, anticipation of opportunities and a freedom from the trappings of modern-day living.  It's you and the earth...and the prey.  This day I wanted to simply enjoy the experience of watching the sun rise as I became one with the environment, watching the animals move about as if I were one of them.  Through an opening in the brush, I watched the ducks dapple on the pond in the distance.  Within a few yards a cottontail busily chewed some grass, watching me with curiosity, unafraid.  I donned my bandanna to hide the whiteness of my face, pulled on my chocolate-brown cotton gloves to cover my hands and began slipping through the brush, standing still and looking around for 5 minutes for every 45 seconds I spent moving towards the tank. As the sun rose, it peaked over my shoulder and I stayed close to cedar limbs to break my outline.  Twenty yards ahead a doe stepped into an opening quartering to the right away from me, completely unaware.  She looked hard right and I froze, then she looked left and began heading directly away from me.  I quickly dropped to a knee, bringing my rifle up as antlers began coming behind the top of the cedar bush the doe had stepped out from.  The buck's stopped with his head and neck extending beyond and his body covered by the cedar bush as my heart began drumming in my ears.  The buck looked to my right and then straight at me...I didn't move.  He looked away, took one step and looked back at me.  That one step put his vitals in the open and I took the shot.  At the recoil, he ran where he was looking - towards me.  I stood as I worked the bolt and shot him from the hip less than 3 yards away, which slammed him to the ground, dead on his feet.  Then I got the shakes...

I don't believe he was charging me, but simply running in the direction he was facing as his body instinctively responded to the impact.  He was an 8-pointer with long times and a 15 1/2 inch spread.  It all happened in less than two minutes from when I saw the doe step out.  And  all I was really looking for was an early morning walk.  I field-dressed the buck, all the time fully appreciating taking an animal of this caliber without doing any scouting or field work ahead of time - this buck was better than average for the area.  As I made my way to the truck feeling blessed and relaxed,  I stumbled onto another buck of the same caliber.  Not wanting to tag out both my bucks on opening morning, I decided to save this one for another day...I never saw him or a buck as big as this one again during that season, but it gave me something to look forward to throughout the season.