So after buying my .243 and waiting patiently for hunting season to start I took the rifle out many times target shooting and was always impressed.
Went out in the truck one weekend to scout an area I'd never been in. Drove through an old hayfield behind the ranch. On the other side there were tracks everywhere in the snow. Seen 6 does (who crossed the trail on top of a small hill covered in small 5 foot pine) and then a very nice buck (with two other does following) who ran across my path and never stopped running. Couldn't count the points but it was a very tall set of antlers.
Funny thing was he was followed by two does. After running over a hill about 400 yards away I noticed a head poke up over the hill. Brought the scope up and noticed the buck had sent one of the does back. She watched me for awhile then slowly climbed onto the top of the hill and then slowly turned broadside and waited for about 4 minutes before leaving. I Didn't fall for the buck's decoy
Decided to come back the next weekend as it was the last weekend for any size buck.
Woke up that weekend and was sicker than hell. Actually debated not going out at all. My dad drove my truck out into the middle of the field at dark because the spot all the does used to cross was upwind of the middle of the field and it was too cold to sit on my ass while sick in the middle of a snow covered field. As soon as we stopped the vehicle, a deer exploded from left and bounded away to about 200 yards then slowly walked into the trees. Hope that wasn't the buck...
Sun started coming up and sure enough, the 6 does walked across the same little hill covered in pine as they did the week before. They stopped and looked at us and then continued to eat, watched them for about 45 minutes. They either didn't realize we were there or just didn't care. They were about 300 yards away from where we sat. Waited 30 more minutes and to my right the buck popped up on another small hill and stood there watching us.
I got slowly out of the vehicle. He was just over 100 yards away. First thing I noticed was the height of his antlers. They seemed a LOT taller than we normally see out in that area. So at first I was thinking he was a BIG buck. The same buck I seen a week before in fact!
I stood there with the rifle to my shoulder and looked at him through the scope. He turned his head and I counted three or four points. Didn't matter, we were out there for meat anyways. The buck was standing almost straight at us. I waited and waited for that buck to turn broadside. I don't know why I didn't lean over the hood. I was sick and my arms were growing tired but I kept that scope on him. I noticed through the scope that his ears and tail were starting to twitch and he was looking around. He started to raise one of his legs and I figured he was about to bolt so I aimed dead center at his chest and squeezed the trigger.
The rifle is sighted in at 300 so I figured dead center, the bullet would travel a couple inches high.
The buck took off at a dead run 90 degrees to his right from where it was standing (I mean head down roadrunner style run)
No bucking or kicking or shaking that I normally see after shooting a deer.
The field has many dips and small hills. One thing I pride myself on is reloading a bolt action rifle fast, and one thing my grandfather taught me was as soon as you fire, immediately chamber another round. That rifle never left my shoulder and my eye from the scope and I had a new round chambered before that deer went 3 yards. Granted he was running so bloody fast I couldn't have taken another shot at him even if I wanted to. I watched the buck run into a small dip and out of sight.
My dad told me I missed. I told him it was BS because I knew the rifle was dead on out to 300 yards and more with the ammo (Federal Power-shok, 100gr) I was using. Was I really that sick that I flinched?
I stuck the rifle on safe and slowly started hiking out to the hill to see if there was blood. I got halfway there and a doe that was standing at the same spot as the buck slowly started walking off towards the trees 200 yards past. I didn't see the buck running anywhere.
The ground was covered in snow and thick dark patches of scrub brush.
I got to the small hill and notice blood. A lot of blood. We are talking 6 foot long jets of it and a lot of them.
Well I know I hit the buck squarely at least and with that much blood there was no way the deer went far. I turned to my left and there about 25-30 yards away was the buck. What I originally thought was a scrub brush was the buck lying there stone dead.
The round went into the chest exactly at the patch of lighter coloured hair I was looking at. Took out what appeared to be the Aorta of the heart (or one of the arteries coming off the top), went through the left lung, hit a rib, fragmented into three pieces, and exited the left side of the deer.
I was very pleased with the .243 for sure!
Skinned and hung the deer up in the barn and let it hang.
Two days later my father calls me up. He went out to the barn and when he opened the door he heard loud multiple growling and seen three pairs of eyes. He went back to the house and grabbed his Winchester 94, loaded it, locked his dog in the house, and went back to the barn. He went and flicked on the light and standing there were three wild dogs, about 80lbs a piece. They didn't belong to anyone my father knows in the area. That's when my dad realized that he was standing in what appeared to be the only way out. He quickly side stepped and the dogs ran out the door and he placed three very quick shots into the snow at their back feet as they ran into the trees. Personally I would have shot the bastards.
Seems they dug a hole in the back of the barn to get in. They ate the neck (head was gone by this time), front legs, and front chest portion of the deer. That was all they could reach. Dad went a foot above the highest point they could reach and cut the deer. We saved the entire back end of the deer at least. We butchered it up and it's not sitting in the freezer.
I just finished a very nice stew and it was one of the most tender deer I've ever eaten.
Went out in the truck one weekend to scout an area I'd never been in. Drove through an old hayfield behind the ranch. On the other side there were tracks everywhere in the snow. Seen 6 does (who crossed the trail on top of a small hill covered in small 5 foot pine) and then a very nice buck (with two other does following) who ran across my path and never stopped running. Couldn't count the points but it was a very tall set of antlers.
Funny thing was he was followed by two does. After running over a hill about 400 yards away I noticed a head poke up over the hill. Brought the scope up and noticed the buck had sent one of the does back. She watched me for awhile then slowly climbed onto the top of the hill and then slowly turned broadside and waited for about 4 minutes before leaving. I Didn't fall for the buck's decoy
Decided to come back the next weekend as it was the last weekend for any size buck.
Woke up that weekend and was sicker than hell. Actually debated not going out at all. My dad drove my truck out into the middle of the field at dark because the spot all the does used to cross was upwind of the middle of the field and it was too cold to sit on my ass while sick in the middle of a snow covered field. As soon as we stopped the vehicle, a deer exploded from left and bounded away to about 200 yards then slowly walked into the trees. Hope that wasn't the buck...
Sun started coming up and sure enough, the 6 does walked across the same little hill covered in pine as they did the week before. They stopped and looked at us and then continued to eat, watched them for about 45 minutes. They either didn't realize we were there or just didn't care. They were about 300 yards away from where we sat. Waited 30 more minutes and to my right the buck popped up on another small hill and stood there watching us.
I got slowly out of the vehicle. He was just over 100 yards away. First thing I noticed was the height of his antlers. They seemed a LOT taller than we normally see out in that area. So at first I was thinking he was a BIG buck. The same buck I seen a week before in fact!
I stood there with the rifle to my shoulder and looked at him through the scope. He turned his head and I counted three or four points. Didn't matter, we were out there for meat anyways. The buck was standing almost straight at us. I waited and waited for that buck to turn broadside. I don't know why I didn't lean over the hood. I was sick and my arms were growing tired but I kept that scope on him. I noticed through the scope that his ears and tail were starting to twitch and he was looking around. He started to raise one of his legs and I figured he was about to bolt so I aimed dead center at his chest and squeezed the trigger.
The rifle is sighted in at 300 so I figured dead center, the bullet would travel a couple inches high.
The buck took off at a dead run 90 degrees to his right from where it was standing (I mean head down roadrunner style run)
No bucking or kicking or shaking that I normally see after shooting a deer.
The field has many dips and small hills. One thing I pride myself on is reloading a bolt action rifle fast, and one thing my grandfather taught me was as soon as you fire, immediately chamber another round. That rifle never left my shoulder and my eye from the scope and I had a new round chambered before that deer went 3 yards. Granted he was running so bloody fast I couldn't have taken another shot at him even if I wanted to. I watched the buck run into a small dip and out of sight.
My dad told me I missed. I told him it was BS because I knew the rifle was dead on out to 300 yards and more with the ammo (Federal Power-shok, 100gr) I was using. Was I really that sick that I flinched?
I stuck the rifle on safe and slowly started hiking out to the hill to see if there was blood. I got halfway there and a doe that was standing at the same spot as the buck slowly started walking off towards the trees 200 yards past. I didn't see the buck running anywhere.
The ground was covered in snow and thick dark patches of scrub brush.
I got to the small hill and notice blood. A lot of blood. We are talking 6 foot long jets of it and a lot of them.
Well I know I hit the buck squarely at least and with that much blood there was no way the deer went far. I turned to my left and there about 25-30 yards away was the buck. What I originally thought was a scrub brush was the buck lying there stone dead.
The round went into the chest exactly at the patch of lighter coloured hair I was looking at. Took out what appeared to be the Aorta of the heart (or one of the arteries coming off the top), went through the left lung, hit a rib, fragmented into three pieces, and exited the left side of the deer.
I was very pleased with the .243 for sure!
Skinned and hung the deer up in the barn and let it hang.
Two days later my father calls me up. He went out to the barn and when he opened the door he heard loud multiple growling and seen three pairs of eyes. He went back to the house and grabbed his Winchester 94, loaded it, locked his dog in the house, and went back to the barn. He went and flicked on the light and standing there were three wild dogs, about 80lbs a piece. They didn't belong to anyone my father knows in the area. That's when my dad realized that he was standing in what appeared to be the only way out. He quickly side stepped and the dogs ran out the door and he placed three very quick shots into the snow at their back feet as they ran into the trees. Personally I would have shot the bastards.
Seems they dug a hole in the back of the barn to get in. They ate the neck (head was gone by this time), front legs, and front chest portion of the deer. That was all they could reach. Dad went a foot above the highest point they could reach and cut the deer. We saved the entire back end of the deer at least. We butchered it up and it's not sitting in the freezer.
I just finished a very nice stew and it was one of the most tender deer I've ever eaten.
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