A Christmas Doe Using Old Stuff
My wife always asks me, “Why do you have to buy used stuff?” I think she last said that when I bought a 26” Weber charcoal grill. Used. This is Weber’s bigger grill that’s hard to find. I use it when I’m cooking for many. Can we afford new stuff? Sure. But I like to buy used items that are in good shape. Part of the reason is my frugal self. Part of it is just the fun of seeking and finding a good deal. I saved $300 on that grill by not buying a new one.
Part of my used “fleet” includes a 2002 Tacoma that I bought in 2012 with 80,000 miles on it for $7,900. It’s now 2024. It has 180,000 miles. All I’ve done is usual maintenance and repair. And all of us know what new Tacomas cost.
This trait of buying used stuff can be close to sickness. My friend Mark’s father was the king of scrounging old stuff or buying old stuff. I suppose that hanging around him in high school affected both Mark and I with the scrounging illness. Here is how bad this illness can be. Many years ago, Mark helped me move from Illinois to Missouri. As we were crossing the Mississippi in St. Louis, Mark said, “That was a pair of vice grips on the highway.” We stopped, on the bridge over the Mississippi, ran out and picked up a free pair of vice grips.
Hey, at least I pulled over to the side and put my flashers on! Looking back, that was some kind of stupid for sure!
The week before Christmas, I loaded my canoe onto the Tacoma. My canoe is a Mad River 16’ Duck Hunter model made out of Royalex. The brass serial plate is so worn that the last numbers are illegible. My best research dates it to the late 1970’s. The Duck Hunter is a special model of the more popular Explorer by Mad River. The color is that kind of dull green that fades into the shadows of the marsh… or the shadows of the subdivision where I live whose rules forbid the storage of boats.
I planned to hunt 2 ½ miles from the launch. Onto the canoe I screwed a 1971 Johnson 2 horse. What a beauty of engineering by those guys in Wisconsin years ago. It weighs 23 pounds and has a one-quart internal gas tank. It’s not a speed demon but it got me out and back, five miles, on less than a quart of gas. Reverse is interesting: you spin the whole motor to go backwards. What do you expect for 23 pounds? That motor is 55 years old and still runs flawlessly.
I hunted in woods that I scouted in October. Late December is not an easy time to be successful deer hunting on public land in North Carolina. My plan was to hunt as close as possible to pasture on private land and hope that the deer I had seen in October had not been over hunted.
As daylight broke, I realized the place I sat was not good enough. I gathered my pack, seat, and gun and moved quickly in closer to the private boundary. It turned out to be a wise move.
At 7:30 a doe nosed down the small creek bed 50 yards away. We both felt success. I felt success because there were still deer in this woods. She felt success because she spotted my brief movement and had her eyes glued on me. After a minute or so, she raised her flag and ran slowly up the opposite hill.
Over the next twenty minutes several does moved down this drainage. The cover on the opposite hill was rather thick. I had no opportunity for a shot but plenty of opportunity for excitement. What a treat to see this many deer on December 19!
One of those deer walked right to left in my view about 75 yards away on the opposing hillside. Trees blocked any clear shot. I slowly moved my muzzle loader towards a small opening. She came to that opening and turned her body in my direction and stared. I had no shot.
I held still. She held still. “Oh no,” I thought to myself. “If it comes to a staring contest, I’m going to lose because even though my elbows are propped on my knees, this muzzle loader is heavy.”
Soon, that doe walked down the hill towards me behind two trees and stopped. The trees formed a wall between us. I couldn’t see her and I don’t think she could see me. I thought, “That’s one smart doe.”
I waited. How long can you hold a muzzle loader propped on your knees? When my arms started to give out, I eased the gun to my lap.
5 minutes passed. 10 minutes passed. Where did that doe go? I moved my gun back to my knees and looked for an eye, a nose, a flick of the tail. Anything. When I moved a deer blew, but from a different direction. What the heck? Is it possible that doe moved across the hill and I didn’t see it. I didn’t think so.
I looked again through the scope looking for an eye, a tail anything. Aha! A flick of the tail. That doe stood behind two trees for over ten minutes.
Finally, it moved back up the hill. No shot. Then she made her one mistake. She looked back. The view I had was quartering away, left side. I sighted just in front of the ribs and fired. Smoke!
I saw her run diagonally back over the hill to my right. I did not hear a crash, but my rest was steady. I felt good about the shot.
I waited 45 minutes and walked over to mark the spot where the doe was when I shot. I started doing half circles in the direction I saw her run. No blood. I searched for 45 minutes in an ever-widening arc. No blood.
Walking back to the spot where she was at the shot, I got to thinking: “What if the deer I saw running away wasn’t the deer I shot? I looked in the opposite direction from which I saw the deer run. No blood.
I walked ten yards in the quarter direction from which I saw the deer run. No blood, but there was a patch of white up ahead. I walked a few steps further and bright drops of red left a trail up to the white spot.
And there she was. A pretty Christmas doe, no more than 25 yards from where it was when I fired.
What an important lesson: the doe I saw run wasn’t the doe I shot. Cool beans.
You know the drill. Call it in. Field dress. Drag her to the canoe. Not a bad drag this time: 500 yards but no hills! Load her. Push off. Turn the gas valve on. Pull the starter rope. The single cylinder fired right up.
It was a slow ride back, but who cares about time when you’ve got a 40 year-old canoe, a 55 year-old motor and a Christmas doe.
Merry Christmas for sure!
CVA Optima 2
85 grains Blackhorn
250 grain Barnes TEZ
My wife always asks me, “Why do you have to buy used stuff?” I think she last said that when I bought a 26” Weber charcoal grill. Used. This is Weber’s bigger grill that’s hard to find. I use it when I’m cooking for many. Can we afford new stuff? Sure. But I like to buy used items that are in good shape. Part of the reason is my frugal self. Part of it is just the fun of seeking and finding a good deal. I saved $300 on that grill by not buying a new one.
Part of my used “fleet” includes a 2002 Tacoma that I bought in 2012 with 80,000 miles on it for $7,900. It’s now 2024. It has 180,000 miles. All I’ve done is usual maintenance and repair. And all of us know what new Tacomas cost.
This trait of buying used stuff can be close to sickness. My friend Mark’s father was the king of scrounging old stuff or buying old stuff. I suppose that hanging around him in high school affected both Mark and I with the scrounging illness. Here is how bad this illness can be. Many years ago, Mark helped me move from Illinois to Missouri. As we were crossing the Mississippi in St. Louis, Mark said, “That was a pair of vice grips on the highway.” We stopped, on the bridge over the Mississippi, ran out and picked up a free pair of vice grips.
Hey, at least I pulled over to the side and put my flashers on! Looking back, that was some kind of stupid for sure!
The week before Christmas, I loaded my canoe onto the Tacoma. My canoe is a Mad River 16’ Duck Hunter model made out of Royalex. The brass serial plate is so worn that the last numbers are illegible. My best research dates it to the late 1970’s. The Duck Hunter is a special model of the more popular Explorer by Mad River. The color is that kind of dull green that fades into the shadows of the marsh… or the shadows of the subdivision where I live whose rules forbid the storage of boats.
I planned to hunt 2 ½ miles from the launch. Onto the canoe I screwed a 1971 Johnson 2 horse. What a beauty of engineering by those guys in Wisconsin years ago. It weighs 23 pounds and has a one-quart internal gas tank. It’s not a speed demon but it got me out and back, five miles, on less than a quart of gas. Reverse is interesting: you spin the whole motor to go backwards. What do you expect for 23 pounds? That motor is 55 years old and still runs flawlessly.
I hunted in woods that I scouted in October. Late December is not an easy time to be successful deer hunting on public land in North Carolina. My plan was to hunt as close as possible to pasture on private land and hope that the deer I had seen in October had not been over hunted.
As daylight broke, I realized the place I sat was not good enough. I gathered my pack, seat, and gun and moved quickly in closer to the private boundary. It turned out to be a wise move.
At 7:30 a doe nosed down the small creek bed 50 yards away. We both felt success. I felt success because there were still deer in this woods. She felt success because she spotted my brief movement and had her eyes glued on me. After a minute or so, she raised her flag and ran slowly up the opposite hill.
Over the next twenty minutes several does moved down this drainage. The cover on the opposite hill was rather thick. I had no opportunity for a shot but plenty of opportunity for excitement. What a treat to see this many deer on December 19!
One of those deer walked right to left in my view about 75 yards away on the opposing hillside. Trees blocked any clear shot. I slowly moved my muzzle loader towards a small opening. She came to that opening and turned her body in my direction and stared. I had no shot.
I held still. She held still. “Oh no,” I thought to myself. “If it comes to a staring contest, I’m going to lose because even though my elbows are propped on my knees, this muzzle loader is heavy.”
Soon, that doe walked down the hill towards me behind two trees and stopped. The trees formed a wall between us. I couldn’t see her and I don’t think she could see me. I thought, “That’s one smart doe.”
I waited. How long can you hold a muzzle loader propped on your knees? When my arms started to give out, I eased the gun to my lap.
5 minutes passed. 10 minutes passed. Where did that doe go? I moved my gun back to my knees and looked for an eye, a nose, a flick of the tail. Anything. When I moved a deer blew, but from a different direction. What the heck? Is it possible that doe moved across the hill and I didn’t see it. I didn’t think so.
I looked again through the scope looking for an eye, a tail anything. Aha! A flick of the tail. That doe stood behind two trees for over ten minutes.
Finally, it moved back up the hill. No shot. Then she made her one mistake. She looked back. The view I had was quartering away, left side. I sighted just in front of the ribs and fired. Smoke!
I saw her run diagonally back over the hill to my right. I did not hear a crash, but my rest was steady. I felt good about the shot.
I waited 45 minutes and walked over to mark the spot where the doe was when I shot. I started doing half circles in the direction I saw her run. No blood. I searched for 45 minutes in an ever-widening arc. No blood.
Walking back to the spot where she was at the shot, I got to thinking: “What if the deer I saw running away wasn’t the deer I shot? I looked in the opposite direction from which I saw the deer run. No blood.
I walked ten yards in the quarter direction from which I saw the deer run. No blood, but there was a patch of white up ahead. I walked a few steps further and bright drops of red left a trail up to the white spot.
And there she was. A pretty Christmas doe, no more than 25 yards from where it was when I fired.
What an important lesson: the doe I saw run wasn’t the doe I shot. Cool beans.
You know the drill. Call it in. Field dress. Drag her to the canoe. Not a bad drag this time: 500 yards but no hills! Load her. Push off. Turn the gas valve on. Pull the starter rope. The single cylinder fired right up.
It was a slow ride back, but who cares about time when you’ve got a 40 year-old canoe, a 55 year-old motor and a Christmas doe.
Merry Christmas for sure!
CVA Optima 2
85 grains Blackhorn
250 grain Barnes TEZ
