Photo by Brad Jerman

I've been making the pilgrimage to Wayne National Forest in southeastern Ohio for many years. When it comes to sheer numbers of deer, including some truly great bucks, Ohio's District Four has always been the place to be. This past season I successfully harvested two does in Hocking County during gun week.

However, a hunt on the other side of the district is what I will remember for the rest of my life.

It all began Nov. 9, 2004, when, at last light I spotted a tremendous buck about 100 yards from my stand in Warren County, about 12 miles from Caesar Creek State Park. This was the first time I had seen this deer, and its magnificent rack was awesome.

Not wanting to alert the deer to my presence, I got down from my stand and slowly crawled across an adjacent field.

It was impossible to sleep that night. I figured that if I was going to be awake, it might as well be in my stand and thought that the earlier I could start my crawl, the better. I ate and showered and was back at the edge of the field well before daylight.

NOT A GOOD START
I began my long crawl from the edge of the mowed field, and slid slowly toward the stand. It was a new moon, and the sky was overcast -- it was dark! I felt my way along as much as anything. I arrived proudly at the thicket without making a sound about 45 minutes later (covering not quite 100 yards). While still on my knees, I reached up and hung an estrous-scent dispenser on a limb a few feet from my ladder. I then stood up. When I did, a thorn from a briar pulled across my camouflage outfit, making a loud ripping and popping sound.

Suddenly, a deer blew twice and bounded away in three big leaps. By the volume of air and the heavy-hoofed sound of its leaps, I just knew it was the giant.

As most hunters know, this is usually the kiss of death for most situations, but in my panic the only thing I thought to try was to blow back. I blew once quite loudly, added some quick grunts. Then I froze. There was no wind -- and when I say it was dark, I mean it was dark. With camouflage from head to toe and a thicket between the deer and me, I was certain the buck couldn't make me out. I was also pretty sure he couldn't smell me.

After a few minutes, I heard movement as the deer moved slowly away. I took that opportunity to slip up the ladder to my stand.

Feeling rather dejected, I put my backpack down and started praying. After 15 minutes or so, I heard a snort-wheeze from some distance away. It was more like one long sound than two, like a valve stem cut from a tire. Thinking the buck knew something was at my location and was flexing his muscles, I responded with my own grunt-snort-wheeze. I tried to mimic what I had just heard, but had practiced the call several years ago. This was the first time I had tried the call while hunting.