Trackers Tribune

This past weekend on November 15th, I set out to cut off a buck I had scouted the day prior. Without seeing the map of the area it’s a little complicated to understand but I will try my best to totally explain the whole hunt. On friday I had found a huge buck track that was the size of my phone, it was at least a day old and headed way in the other direction of where I wanted to end up. So I decided to follow for just a bit to figure something out about him. He laid a few scrapes, fed on some beach nuts and set a backtrack on himself before bedding down with a doe on a sort of rock outcrop covered in hellish thick balsams and hemlocks. So I planned to loop beyond this spot the following day to try and cut him off, and did just that. Saturday was cold and crunchy basically the whole day, so I beat feet up the hiking trail I use almost every hunt and started still hunting when I got to the very end of the lake. A few hundred yards from the lake shore I bumped into a spike horn chasing a doe with intent, for about five minutes I observed him chase this doe up, down and in circles before they took off down the mountain. After this I proceeded up the mountain where I had left the buck track the previous day, upon getting to the top I worked a small knoll looking for any fresh tracks, and boom I found it at around 11. As fresh as a track could get, it was right in front of me, and I quickly locked right in. Took a few deep breaths and sort of shook myself to clear my head and get ready to chase this buck no matter where it goes. Once again he had laid a scrape not too far from my starting point, and soon was tailing a doe. Their tracks led me off another sort of rock outcrop into a bog hidden in a saddle, about ten yards into this bog is when I first got sight of him. It was so thick in there I probably did not have room to make full swing with my gun, they winded me and jumped up and took right off. I could barely see their bodies but I could for sure see his antlers, at least twenty inches wide with preposterous brow tines shooting straight up. After standing in awe for a bit, I got right after them to maybe get around them before they got to the open hardwoods. About an hour later working into a large open hardwood section that funneled down to a lake. As I was working the section I saw tails running away at about 100 yards and decided to hang back so I didn’t totally run him out of the county. After having a sandwich, I get right back on the track and start working down a creekbed where I find his track split off from the doe and start heading towards a beaver vly on the end of a lake. At about 1:15 I got to the marsh and saw where his tracks were going in, I was at a bit of a loss because I really couldn’t tell where he was headed. So I started glassing the marsh with my binoculars and I saw his tracks leading right into a pine thicket on a sort of island that only had one small land bridge and a beaver dam as escapes or entrances. So I started slowly working the shore towards the island in hopes I’d finally get a shot at him. At around 2, I get to the highest point of the island and just get a feeling like he’s close. Sure enough he was right there about 30 yards away looking at his backtrack. Just as I spot him he winds me and takes right off, I quickly pull up and shoot at him four times on the run. My first shot didn’t make it through the balsams but on my second I just grazed his belly as he took one of his bounds, the third and fourth were clean misses. When I went to where I had shot the second time there was a clump of white hair with no blood. I quickly took off after him up the steep mountain side just to seem him bounding away like a mule deer. I had to count my losses and start my long trek back to the trailhead where my dad would pick me up. After an hour and a half hike on the snowmobile trail, I was relieved to my dad sitting in the truck with a smile. Although I did not get that buck, it was my best hunt I’ve ever done and a huge learning experience.