I spent the whole day of November 30, 2024 in the winter woods of the Endless Mountains in Pennsylvania, near Ricketts Glen. I set out at 4:45 for a 6:41 shooting-light, having gotten up to drive three hours at 1 in the morning.
I knew it would be cold, starting in the teens and only rising to the low 20s. My initial, ambitious plan was to hike 4.3 miles to an access point where I could enter a marsh with the right wind, and, creeping along the marsh, still hunt-up to a probable bedding area not far from a food plot.
That plan fell apart quickly. Although I knew there might be flurries overnight, I neglected to see that it had snowed 14 inches over the preceding weeks, which had by this point melted and patted down to about 6 inches of hard snow, making the ground crunch underfoot. This unfortunate turn had a bright side however, in the many varied tracks I would see and follow all day- of deer, coyotes, snowshoe hare, grouse, turkey, and more.
My second misjudgment came when I got to the marsh, and it turned out to be much more formidable than I expected. Instead of shallow mostly frozen mud it was deep potholes of open, but freezing, water. Rather than tempt ruin I continued farther in to a food plot I had identified, at this point approaching shooting light. I still hunted along every good stretch and around two food plots before jumping a doe at maybe 60 yards. As she was quickly approaching my max range of 100 yards and I was not intending to take a running shot, I didn’t even raise the gun.
I continued to another larger food plot where I still hunted around and then into the woods behind it before resolving to sit for as long as I could at the first food plot after having a smoke and a snack. I posted up behind a little berm in the middle of the plot which was about 100 yards long, maybe 60 yards away from the back where they had dug up the snow to get at the crops below.
By 11 I was getting antsy. I felt like they might not be back until the evening, 6 hours away, and although I was not too cold, the thought of sitting in the cold for that long and THEN getting a deer out of there was too much. Feeling defeated in my plan to stay back there all day and like I was giving up a really good shot at deer, I resolved to still hunt back towards the car and maybe post up closer for the evening.
The winds were ideal for still hunting this general direction. They were picking up at this point in the day, especially the gusts, and blowing right in my face. I came to a nice clearcut coming down a hill I had passed in the dark on the way in, and slowed way down. The snow was still crunchy, but conditions and the spot felt good, and I was really creeping along. Approaching a thicket at the bottom of the hill as I maneuvered around a blown-down tree, I noticed antlers on the ground.
I immediately thought it was a shed, but before I knew it a buck was rising to his feet. I was 20 yards away. I literally caught him sleepin’. By the time he finished standing, I was shooting. The shot was what the kids call a gimmie. I didn’t have time to get anxious. All I thought was, “well I guess I’m gonna have to get one out after all.” Though the first thing I saw was antlers and I knew he was a legal buck, until I approached him I didn’t realize what a truly amazing specimen he was- ten points, perfectly typical, a big body, larger than my own… truly the king of the forest.
His pine thicket was an abode fit for a king. Protected from the wind, shielded from the outside and spacious inside, it was a fortress so strategically placed it had undoubtedly served as one of many for years. It sat on a bench, below which was a creek, across which was the game lands road anyone coming from the outside world would be taking back. With this commanding view of the approaching path, he had certainly slipped away unseen countless times before. I caught him because I was the only fool so far back so early.
I took a couple nice pics of the fallen monarch and my now legendary 30-30. The forest wouldn’t dare permit the circumstances for a grip and grin here. The highest decorum was to be respected when depicting this gift from the wild- no fool hardy, wide-eyed, opportunists mucking up the legacy of the moment. I realized immediately that I would need to go get the sled to get him out. 6 more miles of hiking and 4.5 hours later, I finished dragging his quartered body out at 5:30 PM, after legal shooting-light, having spent all day in the woods.
An ambitious plan, a lot of work, and a practically unimaginable bit of luck.
