HIGHLAND -- Sometimes, I swear, I can't get out of my own way.
I wrapped up my public land deer hunting tour last week with a modern gun hunt at Harold E. Alexander Spring River Wildlife Management Area in Sharp County. I had high hopes for this hunt because it's in the Ozark foothills, a place I love. The WMA is a place where you can encounter a once-in-a-lifetime buck, and I had expert help.
Rev. Mike Stanley is a longtime friend and pastor at Friendship Baptist Church in Highland. An avid bowhunter, Stanley has killed some monster bucks on "Harold Alexander," as they call it in those parts, as have his sons Michaiah and Jonathan. When Stanley learned I had a modern gun permit, he resolved to help me succeed.
By design, the odds were against me, said David Henley, the Arkansas Game and Fish Commission's wildlife technician for the area. The AGFC schedules the modern gun hunt at Harold Alexander WMA after the rut to reduce exposure of mature bucks to hunters.
"If you look at all the states that are known for trophy bucks, they all schedule their modern gun hunts for the post rut," Henley said. "Bucks don't reach maturity overnight, and you can over-pressure them with a surge of 200 (permitted) hunters."
It's not just the permit hunters that pressure bucks, Henley continued. A sudden influx of people onto the area drives some deer onto neighboring private land, which can double their jeopardy.
Deer at Harold Alexander WMA are not under-hunted. When I checked out Wednesday evening, gun hunters had killed 26 deer. Of those, 20 were does and six were antlered bucks. The biggest rack barely cleared the 12-inch wide, 15-inch long requirement.
Combined with the controlled muzzleloader hunt and unrestricted bowhunting, the final number will be around 100, Henley said. That's a fair reduction for the 14,000-acre WMA.
The controlled muzzleloader hunt is the prime permit to win, Mike Stanley said. It's closer to the rut, and of course, hunters haven't pushed deer as hard.
Danny Cox, a former horse racing jockey, was fortunate to get both permits. He recalled last year's muzzleloader hunt when he used a grunt call and a doe bleat to call up a massive buck for a friend who inexplicably missed the shot at about 20 yards.
"That really made me mad," Cox said. "I stayed mad the whole year."
Until the same thing happened to Cox this year. He, too, missed a buck at about 20 yards in the same spot.
"That's why they call it hunting and not killing," Cox said. "Nothing is ever certain in this game. At least it got me over being mad at my friend."
The modern gun hunt was held Dec. 6 through Wednesday. Because of obligations at home, I couldn't get there until Monday and Stanley kindly welcomed me to stay in an apartment in the upper loft of the church. Meanwhile, Philip Pickett, an Arkansas State Police trooper, put up a stand for me in one of his favorite spots, an oak thicket near a private inholding.
I hadn't been in the stand 10 minutes when I heard a doe bleat. I hoped a buck was nearby, but none responded to my grunt call. When the woods went silent, I went for a walk. I discovered fresh, clean scrapes in the dirt, and a lot of fresh rubs on trees of various sizes.
A lot of deer were in fields at dusk. That was a valuable clue. With the full moon, deer were moving and feeding at night. The best chance of encountering a buck was between a feeding and bedding area early in the morning, or to catch one coming out in the late afternoon. My favorite time to hunt is from 2 p.m. to can't-see.
My evening preference, along with my rifle, facilitated a more open environment. For that, Mike took me to a series of fields that stretch about half a mile. Thin wood lines separate the fields, with dense thickets bordering an entire side. I went to a high spot between two fields that seemed to have everything that deer like. There was winter wheat and milo, and a protected funnel where they could enter the field from a thicket. There was one hidden pocket that I couldn't see, and that's where the deer concentrated.
After I left at dark, a herd of deer scampered back into the thicket. Had I been just 100 yards to the left, I would have had a shot.
While I was in that field, Mike saw a buck trailing a doe in classic rut fashion in a different part of the area.
"He looked like a bird dog," Stanley said. "His neck was all stretched out and his lips were curled back. It was a good 3 1/2-year-old buck."
I went to that spot Wednesday morning. It was in some thick woods on the top of a remote ridge that was better suited for a shotgun loaded with buckshot. I sought a spot that was suited for my weapon, but not as well suited for deer, and I paid dearly.
I followed a well-used trail about a half-mile into the woods. It led to a long series of big, fresh scrapes and some wide rubs on some big trees.
Common sense says hunt near the game trail. On my first day, however, I encountered two hunters from Paragould dragging a doe out of the woods. They were Darryl Brotemarkle and Jim Brotemarkle. They hunted from a pop-up blind overlooking a deep draw where deer were running hard in the hollow.
That information, coupled with a swirling wind, corrupted my thinking. Instead of hunting the sign, I picked a choke point along a saddle leading up to the ridge from below. It looked like a good place to intercept a deer coming from the feeding area.
I sat about 50 yards below the crest of the ridge all morning against a big oak tree. At about 1 p.m., the wind shifted and blew uphill over the ridge crest. That was precisely the moment a deer crossed my scent column. It "blew" twice and quickly departed. I knew instantly I had botched my only opportunity.
The drive back to Hot Spring County gave me plenty of time to replay the hunt. I'm not certain that my chances would have been better atop the ridge because the deer might have scented or seen me even earlier. Nevertheless, it was a boneheaded play to hunt the hillside.
Big games in any sport are often won or lost on a single decision. If you hunt long enough, you learn to live with consequences. It's all part of a continuing education.
Epilogue
While eating supper in Batesville, Mike Stanley forwarded a text he received from Jeremy Connor, an Arkansas State Police trooper who also participated in the modern gun deer hunt at Harold Alexander Spring River WMA. The three of us spent our evenings comparing notes and going over strategy.
"From 4-4:30, I had 2 bucks fighting 75 yds behind from me and I couldn't see them," Connor texted. "Two does watched. I saw another 3rd buck for a split second that was moving in. While this was going on I had a 300lb hog 20 yds behind me. Needless to say I didn't kill a deer. I'm sitting here surrounded by deer I can't see."
I replied: "That man needs to get right with the Lord 'cause that situation doesn't sound like Heaven to me."
Sports on 12/14/2014