Nebraska Whitetails: Bowhunting The Cornhusker State

v>normally slows down during warmer weather
The sound of leaves crunching in the distance alertedconditions, but I had done my homework by
me to the slow progression of several deerconducting several intensive scouting missions just
approaching my stand site.  My heart began toprior to my hunt.  I knew if I was willing to spend
flutter in anticipation of their arrival, as the staccatosome quality time at one of my many ambush sites,
rhythm of advancing footfalls grew louder and louder.I would have an opportunity to take a good buck. 
The sound of leaves crunching in the distance alertedGiven my positive attitude, it was still surprising to
me to the slow progression of several deerhave a good buck within effective bow range so
approaching my stand site.  My heart began tosoon into my five-day hunt.
flutter in anticipation of their arrival, as the staccatoThe sound of my bogus grunts infuriated the buck. 
rhythm of advancing footfalls grew louder andAs the bruiser slowly worked his way toward my
louder.  The first deer to appear on the scene wasstand site, he answered back in bold defiance. 
a medium-sized doe, followed by an 8-pointer and aContinuing his show of aggression, he stopped every
much larger buck whose unique-looking rack sportedfew feet and pawed a fresh scrape on the ground,
a small sticker point, and a broken left brow tine. tearing at the earth with each ruthless thrust of his
As I embraced the magic of the moment, a surge ofhooves. 
deep concentration took over my thought process. Now strutting past at a mere 12 yards, urine dripping
My eyes immediately centered on the bigger of thefrom his hind legs, the husky stag presented me with
two bucks.  After casting a few quick glances in hisa perfect broadside target.  Seeing the window of
direction, I instantly determined that he was aopportunity open, I slowly moved into position for
“shooter.”the impending shot.  Just as I started to feel the
My position was ideal.  A strategically placed ladderstring’s tension on my finger tab, the twist of
stand blended in well with the surrounding terrain. fate decided to rear its ugly head.  At that very
The stand was located approximately 15 feet abovemoment, the small 8-pointer came dangerously close
the ground in one of several large oak trees thatto my stand tree, slamming the window shut. 
overlooked a gradually sloping hillside.  This particularFearing that any movement would tip my hand, I
area was a virtual haven for white-tailed deer.  Itelected to wait it out.  And, wait I did.  Standing
offered an assortment of natural attractants thatstone still, afraid to even exhale, I could literally hear
appealed to bucks of all shapes and sizes, includingthe ticking of my watch as seconds of time turned
the most dominant and mature.  The presence of ainto minutes of agony.  With the indiscriminate force
nearly impenetrable cedar thicket to the southof nature directing the show, the battle of wits
served as a secure sanctuary for their daytimeensued. 
bedding area.  In addition, a small creek bottom andFinally, after what seemed like hours, the smaller
a recently picked cornfield nestled below the standbuck moved off leaving his superior and I to finish
of oaks provided an inviting buffet of food andthe high stakes chess match on our own.  The big
water.  Also, large family groups of female deer9-pointer was now facing directly away from me. 
commonly gathered on the hillside oak flat atHe had moved out to 23 yards while I was busy
sundown to feed, which further increased its allure. performing my best impression of a tree trunk.  As I
From my elevated perch, I watched the 8-pointerwaited for a shot opportunity, I silently reminded
vigorously work over a large scrape and its helplessmyself to pick a spot.
overhanging branch.  Meanwhile, the bigger buckThe buck began slowly moving to his right in what
appeased his appetite by devouring a healthy amountseemed like slow motion.  Without hesitation, I
of acorns.  He was also quite intent on analyzing thebrought my 78-pound Hoyt Vectrix XL back to full
actions of several does that were now lurking in thedraw and waited for him to complete his turn. 
nearby shadows.  Since it seemed obvious that heSuddenly, he paused and looked back in my
had no idea I was in the immediate area, I figured itdirection.  I patiently waited for him to look in
was safe to try tickling his auditory nerve.  Ianother direction, but that look never came.  Minutes
assumed that I could prey upon his natural impulsespassed as I pleaded with the heavens for a favorable
as his attitude clearly indicated that he was ready tooutcome.  I knew I had to act quickly or all would
start the breeding ritual.  After slowly reaching forbe lost.  Realizing that I could no longer hold my
my grunt tube, I followed with three short tendingpose, I forced myself to focus on a spot behind the
grunts in an attempt to lure him into bow range.  Itbuck’s shoulder blade and released the string
seemed to work as he stepped out from a patch offrom my stiff fingers.
thick brush and started heading in my direction.My arrow found its mark in less than the blink of an
I was bowhunting trophy bucks in southeasterneye.  I watched the broadhead-tipped shaft
Nebraska.  It was the latter stages of October andpenetrate the brute’s tough exterior as a
the pre-rut phase of the whitetail breeding seasoncrown of crimson instantly formed around the
was just starting to heat up.  Although the drivefletching.  Fatally wounded, the buck fell to the
from my then home state of Wisconsin had beenground within sight.  Struggling to regain his feet, the
long and tiresome, the prospect of hunting newbig deer made a staggering exit, toppled over a ridge
territory kept my spirits high along the way.and came to rest at the bottom of a steep ravine. 
Arriving later than expected, I quickly made plans forHours later, in the radiant glow of the moon, I knelt
an early evening hunt.  There was only enough timeat his side and gave thanks to the Great Spirit above
left in the day to purchase my license and to take awhile praising him for his courageous effort. 
quick nap before making my freshman debut as aAfter conducting an early morning photo session and
Cornhusker State bowhunter.  After some muchvisiting a cold storage plant, I made arrangements to
needed rest, I headed for the woods.  Needless toemploy the services of a local butcher.  It was
say, I was eager to start my five-day instructionalduring this time that I had a chance to reflect on the
course in Nebraska Whitetail Hunting 101. hunt.  I quietly mused over the buck’s
The last minute appearance of a large doe was thepotential as a record book candidate and what may
only action I experienced on that first afternoon. have caused him to break off one of his brow
After coming within easy bow range, the lone deertines.  After a fair amount of conjecture, I came to
occasionally stopped to browse in a nearby milothe conclusion that he lost it while defending his
field.  A sense of bittersweet consolation sweptbreeding rights.  I surmised that another buck had
over me as the last seconds of legal shooting hoursinvaded his territory and was competing for the
slowly ticked away.  Undaunted by the outcome ofamorous attentions of the local doe population, when
my first encounter with a Nebraska whitetail, I sata routine woodland scuffle turned ugly.  In any
back and enjoyed the peace and tranquility ofevent, I was one happy hunter to have harvested
nightfall.  The gradual decent of the sun dissolvedsuch a fine trophy. 
into a wash of vibrant colors, setting the night skyAs it turns out, the decision to end my hunt after
on fire.  It was a show of natural artistry that I willonly two days afield was somewhat prophetic.  The
not soon forget. temperatures continued to climb into the high 80s,
Once the doe was out of my sight, I quietly climbedcausing most breeding activity to occur under the
down from my stand, walked out to the main trailcover of darkness.  As a result of Mother
and waited for my hunting partner to pick me up. Nature’s fickle mood swing, daytime buck
Sitting alone in the darkness, I heard the eerie yips ofsightings became few and far between. 
several coyotes echoing in the distance.  From oneMy only regret is that I didn’t spend more
predator to another, I wished them all good huntingtime in the woods chasing an even bigger buck that
as I silently devised my own plan of attack. was caught on videotape in late August by some
Although I never raised my bow from its hanger, itlocal hunters.  Nicknamed “Heart Attack,” the
had been a good first day of hunting. huge 12-point typical is a true jaw-dropping monster. 
Unfortunately, the temperatures turned unseasonablyMaybe that Cornhusker State giant and I will cross
warm for the month of October, resulting in toughpaths sometime in the future, but that’s
hunting conditions.  On the second day of my hunt,another story.  Until then I'll set up an appointment
the mercury consistently hovered near the middlewith my cardiologist, and keep my bow fingers
70s.  As one can imagine, good buck activitycrossed.