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04-02-2004, 07:42 PM
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Story by Jackie Liles
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Shania Twain cut through my dreams as my alarm radio turned on at 5:15 a.m. "I'm gonna getcha good" rang in my ears. I rolled over and groaned. I decided I would rather sleep than sit in a tree that morning. As I tried to go back to sleep, that refrain kept running through my mind. I fought it for 20 minutes and finally crawled out of bed. I had hunted several mornings of gun season and seen nothing but does and a small spike.
My husband got me interested in hunting about 10 years ago and I have killed several small bucks and a few does over the years, just nothing to jump up and down about. Here in north Arkansas, the big deer are few and far between. But we live just off of Norfork Lake and the hunting has always been pretty good here. We had a bad ice storm two years ago and lost a lot of our deer herd.
I saw a really big buck on opening day of muzzleloading season last year. Unfortunately, he saw me first and all I got was a quick look at his rack and his tail. Anyway, this morning I finally talked myself out of bed and into my camo gear. My husband was still sleeping blissfully, so I got on my four-wheeler and rode down the old logging road behind our house to my stand.
It was about 6 a.m. when I got to my stand, but I didn't feel like climbing that morning, so I just sat under a leaning cedar tree from which I had shot a 5-pointer the year before. The morning lit up gradually and I watched squirrels stir from their nests and begin their usual cacophony.
I waited and watched until 7:15 when my back began to hurt, so I turned toward the north. The wind had switched and was coming out of the northwest. I was sitting with my face into the wind. I had the cedar tree in the small of my back and was feeling pretty relaxed, wishing I were still in bed.
The rustling of the squirrels was almost lulling me to sleep when I became aware of a different rustle. By the regular sound of the steps, I figured it was either a turkey or a deer. I shouldered my gun, let off the safety and tried to control my breathing. When the deer stepped from behind a stand of cedar trees just to my left, my heart nearly stopped. It was the big buck I had seen the year before. He was moving to my right not 30 yards from where I was sitting. I sighted in just behind his shoulder and when he cleared the tree between us, I pulled the trigger. He ran about 50 yards and dropped like a rock. When I got to him, I couldn't believe my luck.
I got the trophy of my dreams on the day I almost slept away. I tried to call my husband on my walkie-talkie, then realized I hadn't turned his on. There was no way I was leaving this deer laying in the woods while I went to get him, so I got my four-wheeler and backed up to him, wrapped two bungee cords around his antlers and dragged him to the house. He lost a little hair, but I don't care. That just adds to the memory and the story.
He turned out to be a 140-inch dream come true. The fella who is mounting him for me said he was 6 1/2 years old. I'm just glad Shania Twain woke me up. Maybe her "getcha good" song was a good omen.
http://www.buckmasters.com/buckmasters_links/features/040330Shania.html
Story by Jackie Liles
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Shania Twain cut through my dreams as my alarm radio turned on at 5:15 a.m. "I'm gonna getcha good" rang in my ears. I rolled over and groaned. I decided I would rather sleep than sit in a tree that morning. As I tried to go back to sleep, that refrain kept running through my mind. I fought it for 20 minutes and finally crawled out of bed. I had hunted several mornings of gun season and seen nothing but does and a small spike.
My husband got me interested in hunting about 10 years ago and I have killed several small bucks and a few does over the years, just nothing to jump up and down about. Here in north Arkansas, the big deer are few and far between. But we live just off of Norfork Lake and the hunting has always been pretty good here. We had a bad ice storm two years ago and lost a lot of our deer herd.
I saw a really big buck on opening day of muzzleloading season last year. Unfortunately, he saw me first and all I got was a quick look at his rack and his tail. Anyway, this morning I finally talked myself out of bed and into my camo gear. My husband was still sleeping blissfully, so I got on my four-wheeler and rode down the old logging road behind our house to my stand.
It was about 6 a.m. when I got to my stand, but I didn't feel like climbing that morning, so I just sat under a leaning cedar tree from which I had shot a 5-pointer the year before. The morning lit up gradually and I watched squirrels stir from their nests and begin their usual cacophony.
I waited and watched until 7:15 when my back began to hurt, so I turned toward the north. The wind had switched and was coming out of the northwest. I was sitting with my face into the wind. I had the cedar tree in the small of my back and was feeling pretty relaxed, wishing I were still in bed.
The rustling of the squirrels was almost lulling me to sleep when I became aware of a different rustle. By the regular sound of the steps, I figured it was either a turkey or a deer. I shouldered my gun, let off the safety and tried to control my breathing. When the deer stepped from behind a stand of cedar trees just to my left, my heart nearly stopped. It was the big buck I had seen the year before. He was moving to my right not 30 yards from where I was sitting. I sighted in just behind his shoulder and when he cleared the tree between us, I pulled the trigger. He ran about 50 yards and dropped like a rock. When I got to him, I couldn't believe my luck.
I got the trophy of my dreams on the day I almost slept away. I tried to call my husband on my walkie-talkie, then realized I hadn't turned his on. There was no way I was leaving this deer laying in the woods while I went to get him, so I got my four-wheeler and backed up to him, wrapped two bungee cords around his antlers and dragged him to the house. He lost a little hair, but I don't care. That just adds to the memory and the story.
He turned out to be a 140-inch dream come true. The fella who is mounting him for me said he was 6 1/2 years old. I'm just glad Shania Twain woke me up. Maybe her "getcha good" song was a good omen.
http://www.buckmasters.com/buckmasters_links/features/040330Shania.html