Reminds me of the nice buck that I had scouted out next to an evergreen swamp. Early opening morning I parked well away and got to my ridge fifty yards above his main trail and rub line. About an hour in I hear a vehicle driving up the logging road, park, slam a door and in walks a guy with a camp stool who sits right below me next to the swamp. Twenty minutes later BANG, damn! Then the guy has the audacity to walk up to me and tell me that he partied the night before and forgot his knife and could he borrow my knife to field dress “his buck”, a very nice eight point. Opening day was a bust, so I loan the guy my knife, watch him gut the deer and help him drag it to his truck.
