Second Chance For Kelsey On Her First Buck

By Kelsey Flowers

In the few years since I started hunting, I have learned that deer hunters seldom get second chances, but when I got a second chance to shoot my first buck, I did my best to not let history repeat itself.

The first opportunity came on opening day in October 2016 when I was hunting with my brother-in-law, Matthew, on his family’s 385-acre private property in Swainsboro.

Early that October morning, I passed on a small buck, thinking I would wait to see if a larger one was nearby. Twenty minutes later at 8 a.m., the first 8-point I had ever seen from a stand stepped out of the woods to my left. Its huge body and the size of its antlers startled me. I got nervous, and the buck bolted before I squeezed the trigger. All season long I remembered seeing that buck in my sights staring at me on opening day and regretted not being fast or comfortable enough to fire.

Two and a half months passed with a few more hunting trips, but I didn’t even see a deer. It was the last weekend of the 2016-2017 deer season, and I kept thinking about the buck I had seen on opening day, wondering if I would have another opportunity to see a buck that size. If so, I hoped I would be better prepared for it.

On Friday, Jan. 6, I grabbed my boots and gun and headed back to Swainsboro. I only had a few packages of venison left from the previous season, and I prayed for one more chance to have a whitetail deer in my sights.

We headed to the stands just before 4 p.m. on Saturday. The stand I chose for the afternoon hunt was an elevated box stand that had only been hunted a few times that season. Three food plots had been strategically planted in the area, and I had a feeling that would be the place the deer would feed that afternoon. The sun would set at 5:40, meaning 6:10 was my deadline.

At about 5:25 p.m., a flick of a white tail caught my eye in the far right-hand corner of the field. It was a 4-pointer, and I needed the meat, so I quickly took aim behind its left shoulder and fired. The deer dropped immediately and never moved. The 100-grain, .243 round proved effective from the distance of about 100 yards. Hands shaking, yet careful not to bump the mounted Bushnell scope, I leaned my Savage Axis bolt-action rifle in the corner to regroup.

Moments later, I looked up and saw a doe had stepped out of the trees and was standing just beyond the first. As I moved to load a fresh cartridge, I accidentally let the spent casing drop to the floor with a clank, prompting the spooked deer to dart away.

I could feel the cold in my toes, despite my heavy boots and toe warmers. It was about 35 degrees, and the temperature was beginning to drop with the sun. The sky was gray and overcast, and the moon phase was 71 percent waxing gibbous, which according to hunting forecasts, indicated it was an average day for deer hunting. However, two deer sightings in a span of a few minutes earned the afternoon an above-average rating for my experience, and I still had time to spare before sunset.

About 15 minutes after scaring the second deer, I was fiddling with my HotHands when I looked up to find a buck staring straight in my direction about 70 yards away. I froze for a few seconds, hoping he would let his guard down and look away. It was not the same buck I saw opening day but a totally different one! His large antlers were obvious, even though it was nearing dusk. When he turned his head, I carefully reached for my gun, took aim and shot.

The buck bolted into the woods, and I could hear him rustling through the brush for several seconds.

Then silence.

I was not at all sure I had hit him. I was trying to move fast so as not to repeat my opening-day mistake, though I had been careful to aim at his heart.

Matthew pulled his truck up to my stand at dark, and we collected the first deer and checked on the second. A trace of bright-red blood indicated it had been a kill shot. After just a few minutes of following the trail, we found what we were looking for, and what I had been hoping for since opening day. It was an 8-point buck!

Matthew even identified it as one he had captured on his deer camera back in November. It was a recognizable buck because one of its tines was positioned oddly on the back of the left side of the beam, disrupting the symmetry of the rack.

Typical or non-typical antlers made little difference to me; I was just thankful that the season of waiting and hoping had ended so well.

I have learned that hunting is a pastime that requires a level of perseverance, appreciation and stewardship—perseverance through failure, appreciation for what God has created and ethical stewardship over that creation. While I still have more to learn about those values, they are three that have become more important to me as a result of this particular whitetail deer season.

I am grateful that God answered my prayer by providing me one last chance to harvest my first bucks and enough venison to re-stock the freezer until next season.

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