OK rifle 2021 - 11/24/21
Once again I’m blessed to be able to spend this magical time of the year with my favorite people in a place like no other. The “Slickhills” on the north edge of the Wichita mountains in SW Oklahoma.
Like always, the boy and me spent the night before the opener in the cabin out on the ranch. Picked up a pizza at the drive through on our way out, chocolate Moon Pies for dessert, a hot chocolate with mallows for the boy and a whiskey and cider for dad before bed. We played a couple hands of dominoes, stoked up the little wood stove and headed to the racks.
![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/nrRGDXwv/E3-C8-A629-0-B18-4-F87-BD83-DAD0370-ED949.jpg)
![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/G3qQNfhH/E563-BA0-C-E7-E7-4163-9459-DE62-F8056-CD8.jpg)
Once again a fitful night for Ole Dad, sharing a bunk with a 6 year old who literally turned a somersault inside of his sleeping bag. 4:55 found me up cussing myself for forgetting the coffee to load the percolator. The wind was howling and the moon was bright enough you could have driven back to town with the headlights off, but I saw a deer moving across the hayfield when I stepped out onto the porch to water the grass.
After I’d gotten the stove warmed back up and read a book until half an hour before shooting light I decided I better roust my sidekick to begin the chore that is getting a little kid dressed and ready to go somewhere besides back to bed. I was able to get him going with the promise of chocolate donuts and a SunnyD from the ice chest. Soon dawn was cracking and we were on our half mile trek up to our opening morning sitting spot.
We didn’t get halfway when I glanced back to see my Old Man hot on our heels trying to catch us for the morning watch. Him and the rest of the gang had rolled in around 2am from the annual trek to camp in CO for 3rd rifle. He said he couldn’t sleep with the thought of missing the opener so dragged out to come meet us.
We made good time up to the spot, had to sneak around a little basket 8 pointer and a couple does on the way. It wasn’t particularly cold per the thermometer but with the wind it wasn’t very comfortable, Gramps and the little guy decided they better put their hoods up, my pullover doesn’t have one so I wasn’t in the club.
. ![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/x8TP8vgf/2110067-B-55-F4-4685-9-F6-E-7-A8-E29-A9-F26-E.jpg)
Unfortunately with the full moon and the screaming wind there wasn’t much moving so we bagged it at 9:30 to go unload all the camp gear from the CO trip.
I told dad when we were unloading their gear I was going to wolf a sandwich for lunch and head back out early knowing the rut was on and they hadn’t moved in the morning, he agreed that was a good plan and he’d meet me out there.
I ate and headed for the hills at 1:45, there may have been an unplanned catnap in there for 30 minutes or so but I figured I was still doing okay. Boy said it was too windy and he was sitting this one out on the couch with Inspector Gadget, I wanted him to go but figured I could take a longer route to my evening spot if I didn’t have him on my shoulders. I parked the truck and was headed up the hill by 2:00, headed to the Rock Hut, a blind my dad built out of stacked rocks years ago. It’s a death trap that’s liable to bury one of us alive someday but it overlooks a bottom that 3 rough little canyons run into and is a great spot to see game, killed my biggest buck there an eternity ago. I’m easing along glassing as I go and about 200 yards from the hut when something catches my eye down a little chute that runs down the hill. Turning slowly I see 4 does lying under a little walnut tree in the wide assed open in some green grass about 3” tall. I freeze and slowly slide down to sit in some dead weeds that aren’t thick enough to hide a mouse and here I am trapped out in the open with 4 sets of eyes locked on me from 100 yards away. They all slowly rise from their beds and just sort of nervously amble down the chute to the bottom of the canyon.
I knew they couldn’t smell me and had just started to think that I hadn’t spooked them so they’d probably get to the big thicket down in the bottom and bed back down. About that time the flags went up and they all tore out like the devil was after them up and over the ridge a quarter mile away. WTF I’m thinking as I glance back to the bottom to see a buck watching them run off. As soon as they were out of sight he walks back to a tree and tends a scrape, thrashes a couple sumacs, then dives headfirst into a big plum thicket and disappeared. I quickly made a plan to work back the way I’d come and circle around to where I could follow the ridge out onto the point that overlooked the thicket he was in. I hadn’t gotten a real good look at him, just enough to see that he was heavy horned and probably an eight pointer but he was worth a better look.
As I crept to the top of the finger overlooking the thicket I found that I wouldn’t be able to see the thicket until I was less than 40 yards. After recalling more than one instance of ground shrinkage shooting jumped bucks and reassuring myself that the doe he likely had hemmed up in that plum thicket would have to get up to lead him out into the open on one side or another of my little ridge I decided to sit tight and see what happened. Looking at the clock said it was 3:00 or so, just two more hours until she’ll probably get up to feed a little. After the 4th hour of not seeing anything I looked at the clock to find it was now 3:23, damn, patience is not my strong point. I vowed not to watch the clock but just try to sit still and resist the urge to stand up and shoot him like a flushing pheasant.
I almost had myself convinced that he’d slipped away while I was making my way to where I was sitting when I heard what sounded like a person sneeze down in the chute below me. I look over and there’s a buck casually walking up the side of the chute about 80 yards away. Once again forcing myself to slow down and take another look I get the binocular on him to make sure he’s the one I’m after, a few years ago I shot a much smaller buck that came out of a thicket a much bigger one had went into, also on opening day and I didn’t want a repeat performance. The glasses told me he was a heavy 8 pointer with pretty good points and as if on cue he turned his head to look behind him giving me the front view to see he was wider than his ears.
I swapped the bino for my trusty 270 Weatherby, centered the crosswire on his shoulder and sent him a 130 Scirocco. I was instantly greeted by the slap of the bullet finding it’s mark and the buck falling out of the scope. 3:53 on opening day and my buck season is over. I texted dad to ask him to bring the wheeler and made my way over to my buck. For the first time in a while I had a case of ground expansion as he seemed even a little heavier and bigger as I walked up to him.![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/mrCj52ts/8-AF9-CF85-6678-4-A6-E-9-BAA-5-BD1-FB244907.jpg)
It turned out Dad had a catnap too, but his may have been substantially longer than mine. In his haste to get out there he’d decided he didn’t have time to load up his wheeler so he had to run back to town to grab it before he could make the mile ride back to where I was. I snapped a few more pictures of my deer and just sat and glassed to see if I could spot anything else.![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/ydKj44ZS/4-E9-EED51-C6-AA-41-F3-930-B-1970-D56-E714-B.jpg)
A half hour or so before dad made it back to me the wind suddenly died and suddenly there were deer everywhere. Groups of does, bucks chasing does, bucks fighting, it was amazing and reminded my why this is my favorite time to be out in the hills, one doe even had 6 bucks fighting and trying to get her attention. The beautiful sunset really capped off the evening unfortunately I didn’t get a pic.
When dad showed up we glassed and watched for 30 minutes after he snapped a picture of me with the buck and we loaded him onto the Honda. Nothing big enough for him to shoot on the opener so we headed out. We got a pretty good laugh when we got back down to where I’d parked. 25 years ago I shot my first buck not far from where I shot this one and we’d loaded him on the old Honda Fourtax 200 and I’d walked the mile back to the truck while dad drove, we gutted that little fork horn in the same place next to the creek.
I sent my buddy this pic dad took and he said 1985 called and they wanted their hunting pic back! High tech camo and all that.![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/RZ3XwTmq/DE2-CA9-B7-D30-D-4558-BA67-D8-F887-CA34-E4.jpg)
More to come tomorrow…
Like always, the boy and me spent the night before the opener in the cabin out on the ranch. Picked up a pizza at the drive through on our way out, chocolate Moon Pies for dessert, a hot chocolate with mallows for the boy and a whiskey and cider for dad before bed. We played a couple hands of dominoes, stoked up the little wood stove and headed to the racks.
Once again a fitful night for Ole Dad, sharing a bunk with a 6 year old who literally turned a somersault inside of his sleeping bag. 4:55 found me up cussing myself for forgetting the coffee to load the percolator. The wind was howling and the moon was bright enough you could have driven back to town with the headlights off, but I saw a deer moving across the hayfield when I stepped out onto the porch to water the grass.
After I’d gotten the stove warmed back up and read a book until half an hour before shooting light I decided I better roust my sidekick to begin the chore that is getting a little kid dressed and ready to go somewhere besides back to bed. I was able to get him going with the promise of chocolate donuts and a SunnyD from the ice chest. Soon dawn was cracking and we were on our half mile trek up to our opening morning sitting spot.
We didn’t get halfway when I glanced back to see my Old Man hot on our heels trying to catch us for the morning watch. Him and the rest of the gang had rolled in around 2am from the annual trek to camp in CO for 3rd rifle. He said he couldn’t sleep with the thought of missing the opener so dragged out to come meet us.
We made good time up to the spot, had to sneak around a little basket 8 pointer and a couple does on the way. It wasn’t particularly cold per the thermometer but with the wind it wasn’t very comfortable, Gramps and the little guy decided they better put their hoods up, my pullover doesn’t have one so I wasn’t in the club.
. Unfortunately with the full moon and the screaming wind there wasn’t much moving so we bagged it at 9:30 to go unload all the camp gear from the CO trip. I told dad when we were unloading their gear I was going to wolf a sandwich for lunch and head back out early knowing the rut was on and they hadn’t moved in the morning, he agreed that was a good plan and he’d meet me out there.
I ate and headed for the hills at 1:45, there may have been an unplanned catnap in there for 30 minutes or so but I figured I was still doing okay. Boy said it was too windy and he was sitting this one out on the couch with Inspector Gadget, I wanted him to go but figured I could take a longer route to my evening spot if I didn’t have him on my shoulders. I parked the truck and was headed up the hill by 2:00, headed to the Rock Hut, a blind my dad built out of stacked rocks years ago. It’s a death trap that’s liable to bury one of us alive someday but it overlooks a bottom that 3 rough little canyons run into and is a great spot to see game, killed my biggest buck there an eternity ago. I’m easing along glassing as I go and about 200 yards from the hut when something catches my eye down a little chute that runs down the hill. Turning slowly I see 4 does lying under a little walnut tree in the wide assed open in some green grass about 3” tall. I freeze and slowly slide down to sit in some dead weeds that aren’t thick enough to hide a mouse and here I am trapped out in the open with 4 sets of eyes locked on me from 100 yards away. They all slowly rise from their beds and just sort of nervously amble down the chute to the bottom of the canyon.
I knew they couldn’t smell me and had just started to think that I hadn’t spooked them so they’d probably get to the big thicket down in the bottom and bed back down. About that time the flags went up and they all tore out like the devil was after them up and over the ridge a quarter mile away. WTF I’m thinking as I glance back to the bottom to see a buck watching them run off. As soon as they were out of sight he walks back to a tree and tends a scrape, thrashes a couple sumacs, then dives headfirst into a big plum thicket and disappeared. I quickly made a plan to work back the way I’d come and circle around to where I could follow the ridge out onto the point that overlooked the thicket he was in. I hadn’t gotten a real good look at him, just enough to see that he was heavy horned and probably an eight pointer but he was worth a better look.
As I crept to the top of the finger overlooking the thicket I found that I wouldn’t be able to see the thicket until I was less than 40 yards. After recalling more than one instance of ground shrinkage shooting jumped bucks and reassuring myself that the doe he likely had hemmed up in that plum thicket would have to get up to lead him out into the open on one side or another of my little ridge I decided to sit tight and see what happened. Looking at the clock said it was 3:00 or so, just two more hours until she’ll probably get up to feed a little. After the 4th hour of not seeing anything I looked at the clock to find it was now 3:23, damn, patience is not my strong point. I vowed not to watch the clock but just try to sit still and resist the urge to stand up and shoot him like a flushing pheasant.
I almost had myself convinced that he’d slipped away while I was making my way to where I was sitting when I heard what sounded like a person sneeze down in the chute below me. I look over and there’s a buck casually walking up the side of the chute about 80 yards away. Once again forcing myself to slow down and take another look I get the binocular on him to make sure he’s the one I’m after, a few years ago I shot a much smaller buck that came out of a thicket a much bigger one had went into, also on opening day and I didn’t want a repeat performance. The glasses told me he was a heavy 8 pointer with pretty good points and as if on cue he turned his head to look behind him giving me the front view to see he was wider than his ears.
I swapped the bino for my trusty 270 Weatherby, centered the crosswire on his shoulder and sent him a 130 Scirocco. I was instantly greeted by the slap of the bullet finding it’s mark and the buck falling out of the scope. 3:53 on opening day and my buck season is over. I texted dad to ask him to bring the wheeler and made my way over to my buck. For the first time in a while I had a case of ground expansion as he seemed even a little heavier and bigger as I walked up to him.
It turned out Dad had a catnap too, but his may have been substantially longer than mine. In his haste to get out there he’d decided he didn’t have time to load up his wheeler so he had to run back to town to grab it before he could make the mile ride back to where I was. I snapped a few more pictures of my deer and just sat and glassed to see if I could spot anything else.
A half hour or so before dad made it back to me the wind suddenly died and suddenly there were deer everywhere. Groups of does, bucks chasing does, bucks fighting, it was amazing and reminded my why this is my favorite time to be out in the hills, one doe even had 6 bucks fighting and trying to get her attention. The beautiful sunset really capped off the evening unfortunately I didn’t get a pic.
When dad showed up we glassed and watched for 30 minutes after he snapped a picture of me with the buck and we loaded him onto the Honda. Nothing big enough for him to shoot on the opener so we headed out. We got a pretty good laugh when we got back down to where I’d parked. 25 years ago I shot my first buck not far from where I shot this one and we’d loaded him on the old Honda Fourtax 200 and I’d walked the mile back to the truck while dad drove, we gutted that little fork horn in the same place next to the creek.
I sent my buddy this pic dad took and he said 1985 called and they wanted their hunting pic back! High tech camo and all that.
More to come tomorrow…
![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/Cxkfw5Dr/E2632-DEC-73-CA-4-CB4-A203-02-FF61-C1753-B.jpg)
![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/VNw0vwWf/DF45-D922-6-D21-489-C-904-F-C16-A9-AF54-F38.jpg)
![[Linked Image from i.postimg.cc]](https://i.postimg.cc/Gpj8sfXk/BB003320-72-B2-4863-9890-CEB208519918.jpg)
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