“Gravedigger Goes Down”
As with many outdoorsmen in the Midwest, hunting the elusive whitetail deer is what drives my soul and provides the serenity and excitement that I look forward to year in and year out. Thousands of us outdoorsmen look to this special occasion as being our favorite time of the year and many of us travel immeasurable distances and prepare immensely to provide what may be a “hunt of a lifetime”. The 2010 early bow hunting season was just that for me – the hunt of a lifetime!
Thursday, October 21st, 2010 presented a hunting opportunity that I could not resist. The ten degree temperature drop was placed between two unseasonably warm October “lull” days. The west wind was mild and was nothing less than perfect for a treestand that I’ve been saving for such an occasion. The stand was located off a ridge amongst a pinch-point between two standing corn fields. The area was loaded with a plethora of scrapes and rubs with bedding areas placed to my right and rear. My eagerness to hunt this area was enticed even more-so when I captured two trail cam pictures of a beast working a scrape twelve days prior.
My alarm clock needlessly blared at 5:00 am – I was already awake with anticipation and excitement about the hunt on the 106 acre family farm in Trempealeau County! The early morning consisted of breakfast, showering with scent-free soaps, and spraying all of my clothes and equipment with scent-eliminating spray. My plan was to be placed in my stand in the last dark morning hour to ensure I would be ready for what the daylight hours may bring. Daylight seemed to come early as the full moon was near – I had approximately fifteen minutes to get to my stand before daybreak. As I slowly crept toward my targeted stand, which was placed only 300 yards north of the farm buildings, the air brought with it the feeling of a great day to come. Roughly 225 yards into my hike I quickly questioned my decision to get in the stand early during the darkened hour. I’m approaching the hill that leads to my destination when I hear what sounded like a herd of cattle busting into the cornfield. The tall grass to my right is a known bedding area – it was holding deer and now they know I’m here! Disgusted with myself, I proceed up the hill where, inconceivably, I jump even more deer. This is where I am wondering if I should even hunt the area – or leave it for another day? Was I not careful enough in my preparation with scent prevention? Was I too loud or walk too fast? Should I use my turkey call to mask the fact it was a human that frightened them? It was then that I told myself to “Just Hunt”.
The option was to attempt reaching the stand I intended to hunt – or proceed to a closer stand that presented a lesser risk. I opted for the later and set-up in a treestand I call the “top stand” as it is located 40 yards into a natural wooded corridor on the top of a ridge overlooking a heavily browsed mixed clover field. The morning sit proved to be slower than expected – aside from a yearling buck, two fawns, a curious raccoon, a surplus of squirrels, and three large bearded turkeys.
As 11:00 rolled into view the steady 11 mph west wind was in my favor, so I decided it was a good time to move to the stand I’ve been eager to hunt all week. The stand that I call the “corner stand” is only 70 yards south of my location when, you guessed it – I jump more deer! Frustrated and questioning yet another one of my “not-so brilliant” decisions, I reach my next site and get ready for what seemed like a pointless venture. Sitting and sickened I’m contemplating returning to the house to get a bite to eat and come back later with a full belly. I only brought water with on the all day sit as I was anticipating being too busy watching all of the deer go by – I guess I didn’t want to take the chance of missing anything! Deciding to “suck it up” and stay, I sprayed a bit of non-estrous doe pee in the corn field directly in front of me at a distance of twenty yards. The corner of the field displayed little standing corn as much of it was eaten and/or thrashed down by the animals. The next few hours seemed to go by at a turtles pace with little or no action – not even from the little critters that always seem to be active.
It is now 5:00 and my anticipation heightens. The sun is setting over the ridge to my west and the area is shadowed. The constant 11 mph west wind suddenly slows to what seemed like no breeze at all. I’m contemplating a blind grunt and rattle sequence when I hear movement to my left – it’s a small buck working a scrape. The young whitetail crosses into the corn field and proceeds to munch on selected cobs directly in front of me for the next ten minutes. As I am watching the unknowing buck fill his belly I hear a loud crashing through the corn field on my left. It’s “Gravedigger”!!! The majestic whitetail was nothing less than that – Majestic! His mammoth neck upheld his massive rack and he seemed to march with a boastful pride of knowing that he was the king of the crops. I was able to calm my nerves and grab my gear when he worked a scrape that was worn only minutes earlier by the younger, less aggressive buck. Thankfully, the beast takes the exact path of the younger deer. As the giant makes his way into the corn field I am given the perfect opportunity to draw back my compound bow. At twenty-five yards I voice a grunt in attempt to make him halt to a stop to ensure a clean shot. The bruiser does not flinch and keeps moving. Another attempt brings nothing, and then I roared a grunt as loud as I possibly could – before I lost my chance! He comes to a broadside standstill, even now at twenty-five yards as I let the arrow fly. The freak flinches, swirls around, and travels back where he entered the field, subsequently traveling just short of fifty yards before thrashing to the ground. The deer lasted mere seconds after the double-lung death punch. Even though I heard my trophy expire, I wanted to make sure by giving him at least thirty minutes of time.
Up until this moment I had kept my composure. Immediately I called my mother and father, who were in the house less than 350 yards southwest of my location, to tell them the news. As I am on the phone, my entire body started to shake and my whispers were mixed with loud screeches! “I got him – I’ve got the big one! “Send dad – no wait, don’t send dad yet – I need to make sure…I’ll call you back”! The next ten minutes was spent looking through my binoculars to make sure what I thought had happened was a reality. The area he was in was not visible to me as I was blinded by a narrow, yet thick row of trees – I kept trying anyway. I’m surprised I didn’t fall out of the tree as I tried every angle possible to catch a glimpse! I lowered my bow, loaded and strapped my backpack and impatiently waited for the clock to roll. As the time to fetch my game came closer I was shocked to see I was surrounded by whitetails – to my left, to my right, and in front. The bucks were grunting and the does seemed to be playing seek and catch. Now what? I’m going wild about getting my hands on the trophy. Shaking and doused with adrenaline, somehow I wait for the next thirty minutes and the area clears. Cautiously, I creep toward the animal that was facing me in the first row of corn less than fifty yards from the impact. “Gravedigger” was down!
When one looks at “Gravedigger” it is hard not to appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of his rack. His moose-like shovels at the end of his main beams and thick mass provided his name. A Wisconsin DNR Biologist said he is absolutely, positively, a 3 1/2 year old deer! This fact amazes me still as he sports 25” main beams with a 21” inside spread. His fifteen scorable points are supported by his bases that are both thicker than 5” in circumference. He officially green scored 165 5/8 as a typical main frame eight, however his gross typical is expected to score well into the 170’s – the official score will be available after the required 60 day drying period. With that being said, the score and splendor of this deer does not compare to the experience that he has given me and I feel fortunate that I had the opportunity to harvest him and share the experience. The dragging, pictures, sending and receiving calls and texts, and giving my buck a ride in the back of the truck proved to be nothing short of extraordinary. It’s fascinating to me how the harvest of an animal such as this can bring people together in high spirits to share stories and gratitude towards one another. The best part of the entire experience is being able to share it with family and friends. Being able to share this with my father, mother, relatives, and friends has been an uplifting experience and I thank them all for sharing with me my hunt of a lifetime! 
