Alright. So I hesitated to even publish this post. Mostly due to the fact that finding hunting land is competitive and people act stupid when it comes to big bucks.
So let’s go ahead and get something out of the way. Let me state for the record that all of these bucks are dead. Either myself, my hunting buddies, or neighboring hunters killed them. Those that weren’t confirmed hunter kills are assumed dead, as many of these photos are at least four or five years old, with no sightings since these photos were taken.
Another thing: Yes, I do give names to certain bucks. Why? It’s more of a convenience thing. That’s how me and those I hunt with identify certain bucks during conversation. It’s much easier than saying, “You know, the 3-year-old with the big kicker on the right G2 and the split G3 with the ripped right ear that usually beds down in the back 40 swamp?”
And no, I’m not the bozo who says, “Yes! I just torched Big Show with my awesome (insert brand) broadhead and my (insert brand) bow! He ran 10 yards and I used my (insert brand) binoculars to make sure he was down! Man, that (insert brand) scent lure brought that joker in on a string! Shucks man, I pole-waxed that swamp donkey.”
Nope. That’s not my game. But nothing against those whose game it is, though.
I guess the purpose of this post is to show that I’ve learned the most from the one source that knows it all: the white-tailed deer. And let me tell you, they’ve taught me a lot of painful lessons. So, hopefully you can learn these lessons right here so you don’t have to learn them in the woods. And trust me, it’s much better to learn them here. The ones that get away haunt you forever.
Some of these lessons I learned long ago before these bucks entered my life. But each of them reinforced a particular lesson well or they wouldn’t be in this gallery. I hope you find them educational.