Every year for the last few years me and a group of family and friends have made the trip up north to Kansas for a week of deer hunting and having a good time. This year carried on the tradition of being an absolute blast. 6 of us went and 5 of us came home with really good bucks. The one that didn't is holding out for a 180 inch or bigger deer so no need to feel sorry for him, he had plenty of chances. His saying is " I'm not after a deer, I'm after the deer" I can't help but admire his stance a little bit.
We hunt in the Flint Hills region of Kansas and it's a great place to be. Bluestem high enough to hide a big deer and brush lined creeks makes for some incredible deer hunting. I couldn't keep track of how many deer I saw but there wasn't ever a lull in the action.
This was my view for a few days. The bucks were still acting a little rutty and fights were frequent. It's always shocking how much noise they make when they really get to scrapping. Every single time a doe popped out of the brush, you could count on a buck or 2 to be there and check her out pretty quick. I saw lots of little guys but wanted to wait on the right one. I saw this deer so many times that I would now consider him a friend. I thought he was a shooter the first time I saw him but a couple of broken tines made him a no go. Hopefully he hangs around and I get a good look at him again next year.
The first couple of days we were there were pretty uneventful. My dad pulled the trigger on a good deer the 3rd morning we were there and left me with my only regret of the trip, I didn't get a real good picture of his deer before it got caped out. I was in a stand a few miles away and in hindsight, I should have just got out and gone to take them. He shot a pretty heavy 10 that had what appeared to have a busted jaw and a broken nose. These Kansas deer don't mess around when it come to rutting. My trip was made after he shot his deer and anything following that was gravy.
Day 4 started out with some really cold temperatures. Heavy frost and not much wind had the deer on their feet all day long. I saw my friendly buck, a dozen or so smaller guys and then the one I wanted showed up. He stood in the brush for what seemed like an eternity but was probably closer to 2 minutes before I ever got a real good look at him. I finally got a good look at his antlers and figured it was go time. A 257 Weatherby slinging 110 grain accubond handloads is bad news for whatever is on the receiving end. I shot and my buck fell over, no need for waiting.
He's a big deer with split brows and good mass. I hadn't seen the split brows when I shot so that was a pleasant surprise to walk up on. He had one broken tine but for late season in Kansas, that's just part of it. The necks on these deer never cease to amaze. A mature buck up here looks like he means business the minute you see him.
I was taking pictures of my deer when I heard a shot come from the direction of a buddy who was about a mile away. A couple of minutes later, the "deer down" text arrived and we were in business. Unbeknownst to us, right about that same time one of our other buddies had just smacked a buck as well. He had been in the stand all day and his phone battery was dead so we didn't find out until we got back to town. 3 good bucks down makes for a good night.
One of the deer was missing half a hoof which I've never seen. I assume my poor shooting friend shot it off and will tell that as part of the story going forward.
The next morning, the last member of our party with reasonable standards killed the 2nd deer of his life. He's killed 2 bucks, both in Kansas and is setting himself up for disappointment later in his hunting career by setting such a high bar.
It's easy to relax when you're all tagged out. We took the last day of our trip to enjoy a good sunset and just had a good time. I don't think you could put a price on these kind of memories and I get all sentimental and mushy feeling just typing this out. Memories like those can't be bought and are something I'll cherish for a long time.