Gates Closed on White River NWR? No Problem.

White River Refuge- If You Want Easy, Don't Come Here.

Abundant  Acorns- Overcup here.  

Yes, I still make annual excursions to bowhunt the  refuge, but it had been ten years since I'd applied for the refuge's annual  muzzleloader  hunt.

Here's my adventure.

Friday October 17th,  Refuge Scouting:
Finding concentrated deer activity on the refuge can be difficult and always requires  a lot of foot work.   As I began scouting I found Overcup and Nuttall acorns carpeting the forest floor. It's counter intuitive I know, but the bumper crop of acorns this year didn't make it any easier.   Yes, plenty of fall food for deer; but when acorns are scattered in this way, deer are also scattered.    With my daylight to dark wide ranging scouting effort I  was able to find  three  promising stand locations to choose from.

Fresh scrapes line the lake.

Saturday October 18th. Opening Day (Lakeside location.)

Saturday morning no deer sighted.

Saturday afternoon about 5pm, a young fork horn stealthily appeared  fifty yards to my right skirting the lake's cypress lined edge. He was about to pass between me and the lake when he finally caught my scent, reversed course and  bolted a short distance,  only to resume his stroll until he was out of sight.

Other than a midday lunch break and lake side nap  I remained in my  Summit climber till dark. Throughout the day,  I  never heard or encountered another hunter. Excepting a few faintly heard, far off distant shots as the day passed, I was totally alone.  Thanks to the remoteness of the refuge's 160,000 acres and the laziness of most hunters  it is still possible to hunt in solitude. (Enthusiasm for the lost art of walking seldom propels today's hunters more than a 100 yards from their truck or ATV),

Lunch and nap on lakes edge.

As  evening came, the lake behind me held on to the fading light of dusk  much longer than the darkening forest in front.   With light too dim to now shoot I carefully cracked open the breach of my gun,  plucked out the gold colored 209 primer  and lowered my muzzleloader to the leaves below.

Remote unnamed lakes still exist on the refuge. 

Light cast from my small flashlight was barely sufficient to guide me through the ritual of unhooking my Summit climber from the soft barked tree  I had just descended.   As I readied my stand for packing....reality crept into my thoughts;  As seductive as this unnamed lake was,  I knew it was unlikely my schedule would permit me to return this year. The thought of not returning saddened me.

With treestand now strapped to my back I quietly began my trek out.   I had made the decision that tomorrow morning I will relocate along the rivers edge 12 miles South.

Sunday Morning-October 19th,  (Rivers edge location.) 
A few years back I gave an old  aluminum mountain pack frame new life by zip-tying  it to the bottom of my climbing treestand.  The wider padded straps and hip belt offered  more comfortable weight distribution on longer hikes than the circulation robbing cheap-o straps supplied by the treestand folks.

Rivers edge. 

So with my modified treestand on my back and my day-pack "piggy backing" on my treestand,  I marched off  into the predawn darkness, flashlight in one hand,  gun clutched in the other.

The weight of my  stand, pack, gun and  early morning darkness  made the hike seem uncharacteristically  longer than the three quarter mile jaunt it was.  The 15 foot cone of hazy light  projecting from my bobbing flashlight did  little to show where I was  going...only where I  needed to place each successive step.   My GPS  provided continued corrections to my heading while my flashlight  showed me where I needed to place each step along the way.

I arrived at the rivers edge just as twilight  began to reveal potential trees that I might ascend.  The open sky above the  river allowed light to hit the forest floor much sooner than might elsewhere.  I quickly positioned my climber  high enough to survey the open forest in front, while behind me the rivers edge would channel any flanking deer to within 75 yards.  

As the rising sun began to scatter golden like lazer beams across the forest floor a coyote appeared.  He hopped up on a log, then stopped, as if to soak up the warm rays for few seconds before continuing off  with that purposeful gait that coyotes always seem to have. They  never linger and always seem like they have some place else to be.  But on this day his schedule permitted him to stop and linger in the sun's warmth.

Shared duty to protect this dwindling habitat.   

Time 8:15am. Ninety yards in front of me  under a tall Overcup,  a chocolate racked buck appeared heading my direction.  As he moved closer I cocked and  readied my muzzle-loader.  At 60 yards I raise to shoot; I aim, I  squeeze, the hammer falls, snap!  But no boom, just silence as the buck, still unaware of my dryfire continues to close the distance.  In my rush of excitement combined with my un-practiced hand I had flipped the safety/hammer block the wrong way preventing the falling hammer from striking the pin.   As the buck moved ever closer,   panic sets in as I fumbled to re-cock the hammer, the buck now almost under me.  This time...snap- boom!  The 50 caliber 200 grain Sabot bullet found its mark, humanely dropping the heavy horned nine point buck like a sack of potatoes. And down just fifteen yards from the base of my tree.

Drag system in place. 

Fifteen yards from the base my tree  BUT a very long three quarters of a mile through the refuge timber to my  4-wheeler.

Fortunate thoughts.

After climbing down I  rushed  over to admire what the refuge had produced; and had now provided me.  There was no longer a need to rush though, because from here forward, I wanted time to slow  down.

As I knelt next to him  I tried to process the conflicting  emotions that sometimes haunt me when I take the life of such a majestic animal. Though a strong hunter's instinct resides inside me I have always felt a huge sense of respect for all wildlife and a sense of duty to protect this ever dwindling habitat in which they reside.

To the leaders before me who had the forethought  to set aside this slice of vanishing bottomland  wilderness we now call Dale Bumpers White River National Wildlife Refuge, I  remain forever thankful.  For without  their wisdom and unselfish ability to look beyond their own generation I would not be able to experience these adventures.

The Greater the Effort...
As I leaned into the first twenty five yards of dragging my trophy I must admit three quarters of a mile started to seem a little daunting.  It made me think of  those hunters who refuse to venture too far off the road. If they could see me now, would they gloat? Would they say; "I told you so?"  My response would be that few things worth having are free from effort or sacrifice.  If you want easy; go buy your burger at Walmart. Don't come here.

Light from the rivers edge shines behind me.

Over five hours later, I sent a final text to my  worried wife that I had managed to get all my gear, treestand and my prized chocolate horned buck to the truck.

The saying "The greater the effort the sweeter the reward" rang very true for me.  With  my energy and strength nearly exhausted, and the once seemingly monumental task now completed, the reward was feeling mighty darn sweet.

Jim Taylor,

$99 Trail Cameras

Camera over looks a mock scrape.

                                            Research by Jim Taylor

Over the years I have tried various brands of trail cameras with disappointing results. I've got an older Moultrie (big 6 volt battery) that "kinda" work but I have to do a series of jumping jacks in front of it to trigger a photo. Several years ago I bought two WildGame cameras, (used 4 c batteries) both are not working this year. In the last few years, trail cameras have gotten more compact, have better battery life, quicker trigger speeds, and better image quality.

Image taken with the $99 Bushnell 

Last year I purchased a compact Tasco that holds 4 AA batteries that I swear will last 6 months. It works but the images are not of the highest quality. Unless you are looking to frame and hang your pictures it seems to be more than adequate for scouting work. I just want it to document what passes in front of the camera. I still have this one and continue to use it today.     

The image above was taken on the 7th of November.

This year after seeing the Bushnell cameras (Model #119420) at Wal-Mart for $99 I had to give them a try. I bought two and hung them up on our hunting lease near Stuttgart in September of this year. They have continued to provide me with respectable images of deer visiting our food plots and have yet to need replacement batteries. For the price I remain impressed with their performance. ChasingGame reviewed the cameras and said the trigger speed is a reasonable 1.25 seconds. I have since bought two more and strategically placed them on some ground that I hunt in Kansas. One of the cameras captured a different buck passing the camera three days in a row. (Shown here)

Range and trigger speeds are your two most important elements of camera selection. Game cameras with less than 1 second trigger speeds are available but they are much more expensive. Reconyx HC600 has a trigger speed of less than a quarter of a second but cost a whopping $550! Bushnell does make a cameras(Trophy Cam HD) that has trigger speeds down to .6 seconds but retails for $249.   

This buck would find it self standing 15 yards from 

my stand on the 10th. 

 If you are watching a food plot or feeder the fast trigger speeds are not necessary. But what about trail watching? An alternative to the fast trigger speeds is to give the deer a reason to slow down on the trail. I like to make a mock scrape at the area of the trial I want the buck to stop at. A fresh scrape with a squirt of doe in estrus or buck urine will get the bucks attention long enough for the trail camera to record the deer. I think you can be much more successful spreading 5 cameras out over your hunting area than having one super-fast expensive camera.

My Nov 10, 2012 buck that was captured on 

camera three days earlier. 

Before deploying a trail camera check local rules on their use. After hearing about them being outlawed in certain areas I called around to several wildlife refuges within the state of Arkansas. Richard Gray, enforcement officer for my favorite National wildlife refuge, White River, says that yes, they do have rules prohibiting leaving Trail cameras overnight. Apparently, they don't specifically have a rule that says you can't leave trail camera on the refuge. What they do have is a rule that prohibits leaving or "abandoning" any personal property on the refuge. Specific exceptions have been made for tree-stands and boats over the years. I would like to see an exception for game cameras as well.

Trail cameras are useful, fun, and can extend your hunting season in a non-consumptive way. To me they add a whole new dimension and exciting element to the scouting endeavor.

A Poachers Game

                                                                                                               by Jim Taylor

He has killed as many as  four bucks each season in Kansas where the season limit on bucks is one.  Yet he is able to tag each one of them with what might seem like legitimate tags.  Not only does he tag them, he often registers them.   He is so brazen that he walks into the local Southern Kansas  taxidermist  with his heads and boasts of his repeated successes as a  bowhunter.   He has been under suspicion for several years yet the Kansas Game and Fish officers have not been able to nab him.

Kansas tagging and registering rules(or lack of) makes it easy for  crooks to take advantage of the system.

Properly attached officially printed tag as shown on KDWPT web site

How has this poacher been able to dupe the enforcement officers for so long?   First off, some background on Kansas tagging rules. Kansas requires you complete your deer tag by writing the date of harvest, signing it and attaching  it to your buck. This must be done upon harvest and attached before you can legally move the buck from the harvest site.   The tag completion process renders the tag useless for additional buck kills.   Any hunter thinking about abusing the process knows he risks getting ticketed, fined and may loose his hunting privileges  if he fails to follow the rules and complete his tag immediately.   It keeps honest hunters honest.    

For most hunters that's it, we're happy,  a filled Kansas tag is a symbol of a successful bow season.   You're done because you can't get another tag.  Or can you?   In Kansas tags are issued via three methods.  Over the counter, via mail or online. The first two methods provide for the familiar Tyvek, officially printed, not easily duplicated deer tag found in most states.   The third method, and the one ripe for abuse,  is simply printed off from your home computer on your own regular 8 1/2" x 11" paper.

Now lets examine the process of our boasting poacher.   At  the moment he kills a buck  he promptly fills out his home printed paper tags  and attaches it to the animal.  Everything so far is legal and on the up and up, except for his criminal intentions.  The poacher now snickers under his breath that he has cleverly covered his butt and  can now freely load the deer in his truck and transport  it  without suspicion if he is stopped.    If it is a big racked buck  and he wants to boast  about it and show it off,  yet he wants to continue hunting what are his options?  The poacher has learned to take advantage of his proximity to surrounding states.  He simply buys tags in multiple states, in this case Missouri, Oklahoma or Arkansas, to tag his big racked  Kansas buck.   Once the tag switch-a-roo takes place he can now boast about his purported "Missouri big buck"  while the  poacher continues to freely hunt Kansas with  freshly printed deer tag copy number two. 
 
Kansas has worked hard to enable the licensing process to be easy and pain free for its hunters.  Being able to print my tags from the computer is convenient and fast.  I would hate to see this curtailed because of some schmuck  poacher who is gaming the system.    I understand that  no system is fool proof  but Kansas has left themselves needlessly vulnerable for abuse by poacher schmucks.  Some simple improvements can easily be implemented.  It would help if Kansas were to require  hunters to register their Kansas deer kills within a specified time frame.  For the life of me I don't know why that is not required   They have a voluntary system in place but it is not mandatory.   There is much to gain from increased tagging compliance as well as biological data collection by making registration  mandatory.    With the prevalence of cell phones and easy access to the internet there is no excuse not to implement this immediately.   

The downfall of these poachers is that they think they are smarter than the system.  They think the game wardens are clueless to their scheme.  On a more selfish level their antics and schemes hurt the honest hunters.  I would like the opportunity for a second  Kansas buck too, but as long as these crooks keep poaching that will never happen.  Kansas KDWPT web sites estimate that  illegal poaching may account for as many legal deer taken.

As someone who is proud of our Arkansas bowhunting fraternity in my home state I am additionally irritated that in this particular case the suspect poacher/criminal is an Arkansan.  Well I really shouldn't be bothered, with his multi-state poaching scheme and violation of the federal LACEY act (interstate transportation of illegally taken wildlife)  it is likely our poacher could soon become a Kansas citizen.....in the famous Leavenworth prison.

My Refuge

                                                                                                                    by Jim Taylor

18-August-1985- Smokehouse hill entrance 

As the chill of Autumn air returns each year it triggers a longing within me for the sounds of distant honking geese overhead and the crunching of Overcup oak leaves beneath my boots. White River National Wildlife Refuge provides a dependable anchor, a connection, an unseverable tie to the birth of my hunting spirit. When I feel that spirit waning, I return here and reconnect.

Escronges Lake, WRNWR

The lure of the refuge river bottoms was imprinted upon me very early in my youth. Being a restless teenager growing up in the rural farming community of Dewitt I was truly blessed to have lived in close proximity to such a national treasure as White River NWR.

After school and weekend excursions to the refuge to explore its many isolated lakes or to bowhunt its remote hardwood forest occupied much of my free time.  I often proclaimed that it was my land,  that I owned it, all 160,00 acres of it!

The Cypress and Overcup trees of the refuge imprinted on me in a similar way that salmon are drawn to return from hundreds of miles away to the place of their birth. Returning to the refuge with my bow in hand is a yearly ritual that I have done with few exceptions for over thirty years.

As a Wildlife Management student at UAM-1984

The wilds of the refuge offer an unchanging anchor that keeps me rooted in a world that is ever-evolving and changing.  As I enter the refuge gates each fall I am always comforted in knowing that  Lower White Lake and  Wolf Lake will be there to greet me.  No need to worry that some developer has filled them in or clear-cut its forest to make room for another cotton field.  Nor do I have to worry that I will not be the high bidder on my hunting lease in any given year. The refuge will always be there.

Life brings constant change. I have uprooted my family and relocated multiple times across the country while pursuing my career in the archery business. I've been fortunate enough to have been involved in and to hunt in some magnificent hunting clubs and properties. Over time though, the one constant and recurring hunting relationship I have had has been with my White River Wildlife Refuge.  I was awed by the magnitude and vast remoteness of the place as a kid and remain so today.  The refuge is part of me. It is my connection to the earth that holds many stories and memories of the bow and arrow,  from long ago hunts... and of hunts yet to come.

Jim Taylor

Fort Smith Arkansas Bowhunter Steve Bradley's Big 217" Kansas Buck

Stories to tell

I discovered this southern style shooting house while exploring our new hunting club a few weeks ago.  I was very curious to know what whitetail stories this stand holds within.

Jim Taylor

New Bowhunter Oriented Online Community Launched

Check out our new Online Community specifically for bowhunters to share photos and videos online.  It's called Bowhunter Chronicles. I'ts a cool, fun and easy to use site.  With Bowhunter Chronicles you don't have to wade through all the teenie bopper stuff on the other social networks.  This one is strictly bowhunting and archery!  Check it out at www.bowpros.net

jim taylor

Pearson's Z-Force

The buck made his presence known on the afternoon of November 19 at 5:15pm  as he came in grunting at a group of does. After three trips to Kansas this year I was relieved when he presented himself  broadside at twenty yards.  With three alert does giving me the "you're busted stare" as I drew my bow,  I was still able to deliver the Magnus broadhead to the 10 ring. The buck was mine.

Jim's 2009 Equipment: Bow: Ben Pearson Z-34 with R2B2 Cams- 29"@60lbs.;   Arrows: Carbon Express;  Rest: Whisker Biscuit; Broadhead: Magnus Stinger 4-blade 100grain. 

The next morning,  my hunting buddy Bruce Jameson made an unbelievable shot on a true Kansas monster.  Bruce, who owns "The Outdoor Indoors" in Pittsburg, Kansas, a Ben Pearson Archery retailer  and award winning taxidermy service,  used a  Pearson Z-34 with R2B2 cams.

Pearson helped us deliver two perfect shots on two unique Kansas whitetails.  Both deer were estimated at over  200lbs field dressed. Let me tell you Kansas deer are big in every sense of the word!

The Power of Z-Force at work!

Story by Jim Taylor

Rising Tides Wildlife Refuge

Opening weekend of the 2009 bow season on White River NWR. We were basically rained on for three days straight.


Note Escronges lake level and distance behind my camper in the photos above on October 3rd.




As the river rose and the rain poured, two days later we have water under our camper and floating our ice chest away in the photos taken October 5th shown below.


Rain seems to be the theme to this years hunting season. I found out there is only so much time I can spend cooped up in a 27' camper. I think we can safely rule me out for participation in the NASA Space Station.



With the rain still falling we managed to slog our way out of the bottoms to spend one of the days salivating over the latest hunting gear while visiting MACK's Prairie Wings Sporting Goods fall festival in Stuttgart. In the rain of course.

Story by Jim Taylor

January 4 2009 Doe

Grey Ghosts of January

White River January 1-4 2009                                                   Story by Jim Taylor, Arkansas Bowhunter

Any time spent in the deer woods is a great time but I am especially partial to the late season bowhunts on White River Refuge. The claustrophobic curtain of greenery has fallen and the rain soaked mucky soil is better able to record the tracks and trails of unseen deer. Additionally the buzzing of mosquitoes and gnats have relinquished their patrols to the kinder periodic chorus of honking geese overhead. Nothing represents the wilds of White River Refuge more than the hauntingly solemn sound of Canadian geese passing overhead while silhouetted against a gray wintery sky.

This first week of January was forecasted to be rainy and to the delight of my wife and daughter, who would accompany me on this trip, was to be unusually warm for the next few days. This trip would be partially a family affair since my brother Robert, who lives in North Carolina, was to be in Dewitt visiting. I thought great, I will bring my camper, squeeze in a little bowhunting, and visit family all at the same time. We left Fort Smith in the A.M. but with two women in tow, by the time I made it to the refuge Thursday Jan 1, I had only enough time to set up the camper before darkness set in.

The girls would sleep in the next day while I bowhunted. Alone the next morning, I unloaded my 4wheeler, bows and pack in the damp pre dawn darkness. The rain had ceased but the patter of water droplets were still falling from the soaked tree limbs overhead. It had been late November since I had been down this particular trail on my 4wheeler. The sloppy rain soaked 4-wheeler trail would have been bad enough but when you throw in the recent heavy duck hunter traffic it was unrecognizable. In the darkness the 3 mile route to my usual stand location seemed unattainable as the trail was difficult to follow and underwater in long stretches. After a long and uneasy half mile on my winchless Honda 4-wheeler and the continued dread of getting stuck in the muck, I ceased my advance up the trail. With Summit climber stand on my back and Pearson Z-32 in hand I marched off into the dark wet woods. I didn't have a clue where I was going to hang my stand. I've hunted blind before and this would be no different. Sometimes you have to adapt, improvise and make the best of the situation that your dealt. This was the start to my new years January White River Refuge bowhunt.

Over the next couple of stand sittings I used the opportunity to explore new hunting areas several miles north. Saturday evening I found myself 25 plus feet up a telephone pole size Overcup tree. It faced a slough in an area that had recently been select cut. The deer sign was plentiful but it was wide open like a park. I could see 100 yards to the right and left of me. My initial concern was that this area was too open and all the deer sign was being made at night. The slough snaked its way in front of me at 35 yards with a Nuttall oak tree on its edge that had carpeted the ground with fresh acorns. The deer trail was deep and muddy skirting the slough up to the Nuttall oak.

At 3:45pm off to my left I spotted movement of two does at 60-70 yards... I thought man, in spite of the rainy weather, this was going to finally work out. As the deer made their way along the slough to the Nuttall, I picked up my bow, eased myself to a standing position and prepared myself for the end of the hunt. As I waited for the approaching does I spot a good mature racked buck behind them. My attention on this buck is short lived as I see a second bigger buck and it quickly becomes obvious that this second buck is the largest racked whitetail I have ever seen in thirty years of hunting on WRNWR. He's appeared in front of the first buck, and spooks the does which run off to my left. As the does make their way into the open this big chested guy just confidently walks from the sloughs edge out into the wide open at 60yrds. In a frantic effort to lure him from the does I give a couple of soft blows on my grunt tube. He hears me and stops for a full minute or even two and surveys the open timber in my direction while occasionally glancing away from me toward the does. As he stands there I study his rack through my 6 power range finder. He has massively thick main beams, mahogany in color, slightly palmated in shape. His tines coming off the main beam are narrowly spaced having almost a picket fence like appearance to this apparent 12 point. As he looks my directions I note that his rack is not as fantastically wide as it is tall. The rack is not narrow, its just that the exceptional height and mass displayed in typical form is what captures my focus.

Standing broadside in the wide open at 60 yards he is out of bow range. For me to even consider drawing my bow at such a magnificent animal he would have to close the distance by another 25 or 30 yards. I knew I would never be any competition for the does and resigned myself to just admiring this big brute from a far. The does eventually bolt out of sight. The two bucks quickly resume their pursuit and follow behind them.

In past hunts I have felt a knot in my stomach at such missed opportunities and haunted by thoughts of what might have been. This time.. no disappointment. I felt elated and privileged to have seen such a ghostly and magnificent White River buck.

Besides... there will always be next season.

KINGS OF KANSAS

November 23, 2008.                                                        by Jim Taylor, Arkansas Bowhunter

Nested in my lock-on I was barely 12 feet off the ground. I was well hidden among the scented boughs of a sturdy cedar tree that are common for stand locations in this area of Kansas. It is quickly evident that you don't have the tall easy climbing Overcup oak trees that permit the use of climbers that are our mainstay in Arkansas.

The buck came toward me at a steady gait moving North to South along a well worn trail that would deliver the buck to within 10 yards of my Cedar tree. I came to full draw and gave two successive grunts with increasing volume as the buck moved closer. He finally stopped in the last available shooting lane. He was a forgiving 10 yards away. At that range it is easy to think you have a chip shot and relax. I forced myself to take a second to focus my pin solidly on a spot behind the front shoulder of the 8 point buck. With finger on my release, I squeezed.  My 65lb Pearson Z-32  delivered the thunderhead tipped arrow right behind the shoulder.  WHACK!  The buck kicked, then  bolted and crashed through the forest.  Then silence.

The energy of the arrow was consumed in the split second it passed through the bucks rib cage. The crimson coated arrow was now laying harmlessly on top of the fall leaves that blanketed the late November forest floor. The arrows work was done. After a week in the Osage draws of eastern Kansas that are often nestled between corn and soybeans fields my hunt came to a fruitful close on a crisp but sunny Sunday November morning. A three and half year old eight point buck was now mine to quietly admire.

It was a primitive yet noble process that man has repeated for thousands of years. It still has the ability to inject the November chill directly into my veins and send uncontrolled shivers throughout my body. It serves as a reminder that despite our disconnected life of I-phones and "super center" processed hamburger there remains a vestige of predator instinct within that still calls us to the November forest each year.

Hunting partner Bruce Jameson bagged a huge 8 point this morning that we estimated will score about 152! That is one big 8 point. Monday Bruce spotted what he said was the biggest deer he had seen in 10 years. Let me tell you, in Bruce's neck of the Kansas deer woods that... is Big..

Jim Taylor, Arkansas Bowhunter

Steve Bradley

Greg Case of Dewitt Arkansas with a heavy horned Illinois whitetail and below with a young 8 point taken during one of our annual White River NWR bowhunts. Greg and I have been best friends and ardent bowhunters since we were in middle and high school. He's lucky enough to live in the heart of big buck country in the Arkansas Delta. Visitors to Greg's home just outside the fertile farming community of Dewitt will be greeted with a den of trophy mounts that serves as a testament to his success as a slayer of 130 and 140 class delta whitetails.

Greg is meticulous to a fault about his equipment, site selection, and hunting manner. I kid him by calling him "Monk" the fanatically neat tv character. His obsessive attention to detail is why he is able to put himself in killing distance of big timber White River whitetails. Greg's preparation and planning provides him the confidence needed at that critical moment of the shot.

Jim Taylor, Arkansas Bowhunter

Dec 3 Whitetails

White River NWR Dec 3, 2004

Story by Jim Taylor, Arkansas Bowhunter

White River 2004- A watered down White River NWR bowhunt December 3,

One buck that  still makes me prideful  is a  public lands whitetail from the river bottoms of  South Arkansas.    

I was hunting in the North Unit of the White River National Wildlife refuge on a crisp cold December  morning.  December 3, 2004.    At about 10:30 am I heard this big brute as he sloshed through some water along a muddy trail that I was hunting.    He was approaching right to left and was on course to pass 20 yards in front of me.  At about 40 yards he changes course and starts to walk straight away from me.   My heart sinks as I watch this trophy as he strolls  out of my life.     Wait ... he stops.. he begins to feast on acorns at the base of a grand daddy  size  Nutall Oak tree about at about 20 yards off the  trial making him 45 to 50 yards away from my position.  Too far for this bowhunter to shoot.    With me watching nervously while hoping and praying for some kind of luck he turns back to the trail.    His rack is heavy and a dark chestnut in color.   He sports a tall rack of 9 points. As this guy meanders  closer and closer, I cant help but picture in my mind that I've already loaded this guy up and proudly showing him off to my hunting buddies.  

   He continues his confident  pace.  I come to full draw when he is directly  in front of me at  25 yards from the base of my 18" overcup tree that hold my Summit climber.  I force my to not look a the rack and focus on the point of aim and and let the arrow go.