Youth Season Kicks Off In Celebration With Buck Named Splinter

Ashton Cox, 13, with a Ware County buck named Splinter.

By Pete Cox

On Oct. 13, 2024, at approximately 7:15 a.m., we both sat in an old cypress box blind. This is the beginning of year two of sitting in this Ware County box blind.

We have had our eye on Splinter since the beginning of last year. Ashton had a chance last year to take Splinter out, but the firing pin on his youth .243 jammed, so he upgraded to my Remington .270. With target practice, he was in the kill zone.

As we sat in the box blind together on Oct. 13, everything was about to come full circle. We got in the blind about an hour before daylight. It was super foggy. As daylight started to break, the birds started chirping. He and I sat patiently waiting on a deer to show up. Ashton, being 13, has much better than my 42-year-old eyes.

The moment was about to happen. He tapped me on the should and stated, “Dad, I see a deer!”

I stared hard at the end of our pine row but could not see due to the fog.

As we sat patiently, he stated, “Hand me the rifle.” I quietly handed him the old faithful .270. He looked through the scope and without hesitation, “Dad, it’s Splinter!”

I replied, “You’re lying.”

He replied, “I swear Dad, it’s him.”

We sat for about five minutes, and finally, as Splinter was making his way up to us through the fog, I finally saw a silhouette of antlers making its way closer, inch by inch.

I spoke quietly to Ashton, “Wait just a little longer. He’s going to come straight to us. When he turns broadside, take the shot.”

Ashton was shaking but was able to get the shakes under control. He took a deep breath, and as if it was rehearsed, Splinter turned sideways. Time was frozen for about three seconds. As I was staring at the buck that we had been after, my son had him in his crosshairs.

And then as quietly as the woods were at that moment, BANG!

Splinter kicked up and ran left. Ashton and I looked at each other. I think I remember him punching my right shoulder, since that’s the side he was sitting on. I immediately told him, “I think you got him!” Approximately six seconds later, we heard off to my left, the bushes crash. It was a unique sound that he and I both knew. Splinter was down.

We sat for about 10 minutes, both shaking from the nerves and cold taking its effect. We came down from the stand and went to the truck to warm up. We pulled the truck up to the pine lane where the box blind is on. We got out the truck and started walking to where the shot took place.

Fast forward, 20 minutes, still no blood. The pine rows are overly grown with waist-high briars throughout. As we pushed our way though the briars, both walking approximately 20 yards apart, searching in different directions, still no blood. I knew I heard the crash of bushes, but we could not find blood anywhere.

Then, as I rounded a bunch of underbrush, there Splinter laid. The next words I’ll never forget. “Son, come get this buck!” In the instance, of which I don’t remember, Ashton being 20-plus yards away from me with briars in between us, he was immediately holding Splinter’s antlers in his hands. Still don’t know how Ashton got to me so fast.

The rest was history. I did not expect that morning to be the perfect day for my son and myself. The stars aligned and the man upstairs blessed us with a harvest that we will never forget.

Ware County All-Time Buck Rankings