jode hillman
Well-known member
I thought I?d share a story of my recent hunt. I am a marsh rat. It may not be a trophy to some, but to me, well it couldn?t be more happy. I love everything about hunting these awesome animals in such a wonderful place as the eastern shore.
My First Stag- Sometimes its Meant to Be
I killed my First Sika deer, a hind, last season. They say Trout don?t live in ugly places. Neither do Sika. As soon as I saw the beautiful creatures moving thru their natural environment, the marsh rat in me was instantly hooked.
I had the good fortune through my Friend Ron, to meet a good friend of his who has a place to hunt on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Over a railbird push, and later a NJ duck hunt, we talked about dates and decided late December should be nice cold weather, great to get the Ghosts of the Marsh moving during daylight.
I counted the weeks with baited breath and soon the time was at hand. However the nice cold weather had taken a turn, the forecast was 60 degrees and two days of monsoon rain. Ughh, terrible. But as an old friend used to say, ? You can?t kill?em from the couch!?
My friend Adam and I drove thru the rain and arrived to soupy ground. However we saw numerous Hinds out mid day in the rain browsing. Promising!
Our first nights hunt was miserable, beautiful country, but a cold hard rain had me soaked thru within minutes, and my duck jacket weighed 10 pounds. I doubt the muzzleloader would of fired even if I had taken a shot.
Adam and I retreated to the cozy house my friend owns and had Whitetail Back straps for dinner. Delicious. The dryer worked overtime forcing the dampness from hats and gloves. We hit the hay early because the deer hunters alarm is never far distant.
We awoke to the weather just as we had left it. Ugh, this was to be a struggle. However I went full duck hunter mode, chest waders and waterproof parka. An all day sit was planned despite Mother Nature?s plans.
The south wind wailed as I sat in a 15? ladder stand. I was on a long neck of Virginia Pines jutting into the marsh. Salt hay and spartina grass ringed the peninsula. A long run of Phragmites ran away to my right. Shooting light came and went, and I still could barely see. As it grew lighter I began my visual sweep. Left to right, close to far. Concentrating on anything or and part, that could be a deer.
About 7:20 my scan picked up 4 shapes behind me,moving along the edge of the marsh. Soon they my would be hard right and broadside. Just as they stepped into the opening duck hunters let loose with the first mighty barrage of the morning. Instantly a stag raised his head and looked worried. He was beautiful. About 12? high with forks and sparkling white antlers, polished from the Phragmites. As I raised my gun to shoot he caught that slightest movement and took his harem out of the area, Poste Haste.
My hopes and dreams of success, delicious back straps and glory were dashed. I despaired. I began to replay the event in my mind, ? If I only had a little more height? , ? If I only had a little more cover? I thought. As I looked around I spied a WELL hidden platform 30 yards further back in the thick stuff, AND about 35? up!!!! I hadn?t seen it in the low light of the previous hunts. Yes! A perfect crows nest.
I made the decision to get down, change spots and strap in for the ride I was about to get on.
The box was tight but afforded a grand view of the woods and marsh. My puny 100 yard self imposed range didn?t even scratch the surface of the vast expanse before me.
I ate a quick snack, had some tea and settled in for the wait. However shortly thereafter I saw a thick dark shape moving thru the Phragmites. As I gazed more intently, I saw it was a Sika! A Stag! His current path would cross him in front of me at about 55 yards, in a shootable clearing.
I readied the gun, controlled my breathing, as he entered the opening I chirped, he stopped, and BOOOOM! The White .504 sent the heavy lead conical.......... who knows where !!!! Ahhhh crap, I had hit a thumb sized branch just below the scopes line of sight. For the second time of the morning I see my hopes and dreams Running from sight.
What happened next can only be described and divine intervention. The Stag stopped at a tiny clearing just within my view. I could clearly see his shoulder broadside. Composure be damned. I reached in my jacket for a speed load, dropped in the powder and rammed the bullet home. I grasped at my cap brim for the extra primer I always keep there..... keep there....... uh not this time, it was missing! I had to UNZIP my back pack, rummage around, and then finally cap the rifle.
I looked up, and the stag was frozen motionless. Aim, breathe, squeeze...... boom!!!!!! This time when the smoked cleared the space where the stag stood was empty, nothing ran, nothing moved. Then I saw the Stag slightly kick as it expired.
I couldn?t believe it. I made every mistake in the book and still harvested my dream. A free ranging wild marsh Ghost.
Some Things are meant to be. I was just happy to be a part of it.
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My First Stag- Sometimes its Meant to Be
I killed my First Sika deer, a hind, last season. They say Trout don?t live in ugly places. Neither do Sika. As soon as I saw the beautiful creatures moving thru their natural environment, the marsh rat in me was instantly hooked.
I had the good fortune through my Friend Ron, to meet a good friend of his who has a place to hunt on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Over a railbird push, and later a NJ duck hunt, we talked about dates and decided late December should be nice cold weather, great to get the Ghosts of the Marsh moving during daylight.
I counted the weeks with baited breath and soon the time was at hand. However the nice cold weather had taken a turn, the forecast was 60 degrees and two days of monsoon rain. Ughh, terrible. But as an old friend used to say, ? You can?t kill?em from the couch!?
My friend Adam and I drove thru the rain and arrived to soupy ground. However we saw numerous Hinds out mid day in the rain browsing. Promising!
Our first nights hunt was miserable, beautiful country, but a cold hard rain had me soaked thru within minutes, and my duck jacket weighed 10 pounds. I doubt the muzzleloader would of fired even if I had taken a shot.
Adam and I retreated to the cozy house my friend owns and had Whitetail Back straps for dinner. Delicious. The dryer worked overtime forcing the dampness from hats and gloves. We hit the hay early because the deer hunters alarm is never far distant.
We awoke to the weather just as we had left it. Ugh, this was to be a struggle. However I went full duck hunter mode, chest waders and waterproof parka. An all day sit was planned despite Mother Nature?s plans.
The south wind wailed as I sat in a 15? ladder stand. I was on a long neck of Virginia Pines jutting into the marsh. Salt hay and spartina grass ringed the peninsula. A long run of Phragmites ran away to my right. Shooting light came and went, and I still could barely see. As it grew lighter I began my visual sweep. Left to right, close to far. Concentrating on anything or and part, that could be a deer.
About 7:20 my scan picked up 4 shapes behind me,moving along the edge of the marsh. Soon they my would be hard right and broadside. Just as they stepped into the opening duck hunters let loose with the first mighty barrage of the morning. Instantly a stag raised his head and looked worried. He was beautiful. About 12? high with forks and sparkling white antlers, polished from the Phragmites. As I raised my gun to shoot he caught that slightest movement and took his harem out of the area, Poste Haste.
My hopes and dreams of success, delicious back straps and glory were dashed. I despaired. I began to replay the event in my mind, ? If I only had a little more height? , ? If I only had a little more cover? I thought. As I looked around I spied a WELL hidden platform 30 yards further back in the thick stuff, AND about 35? up!!!! I hadn?t seen it in the low light of the previous hunts. Yes! A perfect crows nest.
I made the decision to get down, change spots and strap in for the ride I was about to get on.
The box was tight but afforded a grand view of the woods and marsh. My puny 100 yard self imposed range didn?t even scratch the surface of the vast expanse before me.
I ate a quick snack, had some tea and settled in for the wait. However shortly thereafter I saw a thick dark shape moving thru the Phragmites. As I gazed more intently, I saw it was a Sika! A Stag! His current path would cross him in front of me at about 55 yards, in a shootable clearing.
I readied the gun, controlled my breathing, as he entered the opening I chirped, he stopped, and BOOOOM! The White .504 sent the heavy lead conical.......... who knows where !!!! Ahhhh crap, I had hit a thumb sized branch just below the scopes line of sight. For the second time of the morning I see my hopes and dreams Running from sight.
What happened next can only be described and divine intervention. The Stag stopped at a tiny clearing just within my view. I could clearly see his shoulder broadside. Composure be damned. I reached in my jacket for a speed load, dropped in the powder and rammed the bullet home. I grasped at my cap brim for the extra primer I always keep there..... keep there....... uh not this time, it was missing! I had to UNZIP my back pack, rummage around, and then finally cap the rifle.
I looked up, and the stag was frozen motionless. Aim, breathe, squeeze...... boom!!!!!! This time when the smoked cleared the space where the stag stood was empty, nothing ran, nothing moved. Then I saw the Stag slightly kick as it expired.
I couldn?t believe it. I made every mistake in the book and still harvested my dream. A free ranging wild marsh Ghost.
Some Things are meant to be. I was just happy to be a part of it.
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