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I’m feeling a lot of appreciation for the Minnesota DNR and their wise decision to conduct that early antlerless only firearm season back in October. Despite my best-laid plans, pre-season work and three stands to choose from, the deer found a way to completely avoid me during the regular Zone 2 hunt. Or nearly so.

However, I did have one fleeting chance at one heckuva deer a couple of Saturdays ago. You may recall I mentioned seeing an enormous buck slip across a logging trail just before the special hunt ended on October 16th. Well, I jumped that same buck on opening day of the regular season at 3:00 p.m. while quietly walking through a pine-studded field on the way to my stand. I jumped him with ten yards separating us. The wind was blowing in my favor and my footfalls were nearly silent in the tall grass. Had I expected to jump a deer in that field and been on higher alert, walking even more slowly and quietly, I’m convinced that I could’ve tip-toed close enough to kick that brute in the fanny. Unfortunately, I wasn’t thinking about such things and the buck saw me first and snorted loud enough to make my heart skip, scaring me half to death. Needless to say, he bolted, zigzagged through the pines and crashed into the adjacent woods. I didn’t even have time to shoulder my gun. That’s my story anyway. Later on, I learned that a bow hunter working that property since September has taken a few pictures of this buck with a motion-activated camera. I haven’t seen the photos, but evidently that buck - my buck - sports at least a thirteen-point rack. Yep, based on what I saw, that sounds about right.

Maybe it’s best that I didn’t have adequate time or quick enough reflexes to take that buck. A deer that size and age has witnessed and survived a number of hunting seasons, and has successfully eluded better hunters than me for years. It’d almost be a tragic shame if some inattentive dope strolling through a field caught him completely unaware and punched his ticket. No doubt, he would’ve been the buck of a lifetime…with an asterisk. People would admire the impressive rack hanging on the wall and ask, “Wow, how’d ya manage to get ‘im? Rattlin’? Gruntin’?” I’d break eye contact and honestly reply, “It was the goofiest deal. He-he. I was casually walking through a pine-studded field and I nearly tripped over him. Imagine that! Sure, others over the years failed to bag him using strategy, brain power and hard work, but I got him the old-fashioned way – using well-honed ignorance and blind luck.”

Ah well, all’s not lost. I now know for certain that he uses a particular trail out of the woods to gain entry into that field. I’ll wait for the first snowfall and, with a bow in my hand, patiently sit in a portable stand that overlooks that trail. Maybe if the moon is waning and the stars line up just right, that buck and I will cross paths again. Next time, I’ll watch for him and I’ll be ready.

Dan Brown’s weekly outdoor column is brought to you by Frankie’s Bait and Marine, in Chisago City, and St. Croix Outdoors, in St. Croix Falls, Wis.

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