Dead Hog Walkin' Vol 1
50 Total Bowhunts in this 2 hour production. Filmed in Texas. Spot & Stalk Hunts. Tree Stand Tactics. Night Time Hunts. Voted Bowhunting Video of the Year. A Must See for all Hunters.
50 Total Bowhunts in this 2 hour production. Filmed in Texas. Spot & Stalk Hunts. Tree Stand Tactics. Night Time Hunts. Voted Bowhunting Video of the Year. A Must See for all Hunters.
It was the biggest buck I had ever seen
By Joseph Moore
(Viewed 217 times)
My name is Joseph Moore. I fell in love with bowhunting at age 7, when my father, a seasoned bowhunter himself, used to take me scouting and occasionally hunting with him. Everything about it: scouting, learning the deer patterns, picking the best ambush spot, it all seemed an art form to me; an art form that I continue to hone to this day at age 22.
It was November 6th, 2009. My father, my lifelong mentor in hunting and life, was having surgery on his heel, and that unfortunately meant that he would have to miss this year's hunting season. Although I wanted to be with him that morning in the hospital, he begged me to go hunting with my uncle and cousin. He told me that he would pray for God to send a big buck my way. I realized that he wanted me in the woods, to hunt "for him". I agreed.
The next morning, I was up at 5:00 am, getting my gear in order along with my cousin and uncle. To me, there was a certain presence missing, as my father was scheduled for his surgery around 9:00 am that morning. Although I was nervous for him, I knew that this is where he wanted me, and if there is one place on earth that could take my mind off of my father’s position, it was in the deer woods.
I was told by my cousin to sit on top of a large wooded hill deep in Pennsylvania’s public game lands (we do NOT hunt private property here.) The rut was in full swing, and I was surrounded by rubs and scrapes. As the hour of 9:00 am rolled around, I said a small prayer for my father in my makeshift ground blind built of a hole in the ground that I came across and some small logs nearby.
After my prayer, I checked my surroundings. My eyes caught a glimmer of white off in the distance, maybe 80 yards. The trees grow thick on this hill, a perfect safe-haven for deer. I couldn’t make out exactly what it was that I saw, but I was taking no chances, and grabbed my Parker Phoenix (I had already missed my chance at a nice 8 that morning due to my unpreparedness.)
The animal drew closer, and I saw it was a mature doe. I should tell you that I come from a long line of meat hunters, and I had a doe tag. As she drew nearer, I noticed another deer behind her; a much bigger deer. It only took a glance at this big beautiful buck to realize that not only was this one a shooter, but a potential buck of a lifetime! He turned broadside at 25 yards, nose to the ground, had no idea that I was there. I let the carbon fly. After the buck disappeared into the ticket with my arrow in his front shoulder, the shaking started. I couldn’t believe this big buck, the undisputed king of this mountain, came so close and presented me with this opportunity. I glanced at my watch: exactly 9:00 am, the time of my father’s surgery.
We found the King the next day, after tracking it for over a mile due to my less than perfect shot. But my Rage broadhead did its job, and did it well. When I saw my buck lying under a pine tree, I turned to my cousin, Jimmy, and tackled him. We rolled around, laughing, me crying, in udder disbelief. It was the biggest buck I had ever seen, and after 12 years of bowhunting, my first bow harvest.
That night, I showed my father the pictures of my accomplishment. Through the tears, he told me how proud he was of me. I told him that this was OUR buck, and that I never would have had the chance at him if he had not taught me everything I know about hunting and the outdoors.
A few days later, when he was rested and healing, I brought the massive rack to his bedside. He grabbed the left antler, and I grabbed the right. There we sat, both nodding our heads, both smiling in complete silence. We shared a look of approval with one another. No words were needed.
I have yet to score my buck officially. I have had several others estimate it, and the consensus seems to be somewhere in the low to mid 140’s. But the size does not matter to me. This buck if for my father, my mentor, my inspiration as a hunter.
By Joseph Moore
(Viewed 217 times)
My name is Joseph Moore. I fell in love with bowhunting at age 7, when my father, a seasoned bowhunter himself, used to take me scouting and occasionally hunting with him. Everything about it: scouting, learning the deer patterns, picking the best ambush spot, it all seemed an art form to me; an art form that I continue to hone to this day at age 22.
It was November 6th, 2009. My father, my lifelong mentor in hunting and life, was having surgery on his heel, and that unfortunately meant that he would have to miss this year's hunting season. Although I wanted to be with him that morning in the hospital, he begged me to go hunting with my uncle and cousin. He told me that he would pray for God to send a big buck my way. I realized that he wanted me in the woods, to hunt "for him". I agreed.
The next morning, I was up at 5:00 am, getting my gear in order along with my cousin and uncle. To me, there was a certain presence missing, as my father was scheduled for his surgery around 9:00 am that morning. Although I was nervous for him, I knew that this is where he wanted me, and if there is one place on earth that could take my mind off of my father’s position, it was in the deer woods.
I was told by my cousin to sit on top of a large wooded hill deep in Pennsylvania’s public game lands (we do NOT hunt private property here.) The rut was in full swing, and I was surrounded by rubs and scrapes. As the hour of 9:00 am rolled around, I said a small prayer for my father in my makeshift ground blind built of a hole in the ground that I came across and some small logs nearby.
After my prayer, I checked my surroundings. My eyes caught a glimmer of white off in the distance, maybe 80 yards. The trees grow thick on this hill, a perfect safe-haven for deer. I couldn’t make out exactly what it was that I saw, but I was taking no chances, and grabbed my Parker Phoenix (I had already missed my chance at a nice 8 that morning due to my unpreparedness.)
The animal drew closer, and I saw it was a mature doe. I should tell you that I come from a long line of meat hunters, and I had a doe tag. As she drew nearer, I noticed another deer behind her; a much bigger deer. It only took a glance at this big beautiful buck to realize that not only was this one a shooter, but a potential buck of a lifetime! He turned broadside at 25 yards, nose to the ground, had no idea that I was there. I let the carbon fly. After the buck disappeared into the ticket with my arrow in his front shoulder, the shaking started. I couldn’t believe this big buck, the undisputed king of this mountain, came so close and presented me with this opportunity. I glanced at my watch: exactly 9:00 am, the time of my father’s surgery.
We found the King the next day, after tracking it for over a mile due to my less than perfect shot. But my Rage broadhead did its job, and did it well. When I saw my buck lying under a pine tree, I turned to my cousin, Jimmy, and tackled him. We rolled around, laughing, me crying, in udder disbelief. It was the biggest buck I had ever seen, and after 12 years of bowhunting, my first bow harvest.
That night, I showed my father the pictures of my accomplishment. Through the tears, he told me how proud he was of me. I told him that this was OUR buck, and that I never would have had the chance at him if he had not taught me everything I know about hunting and the outdoors.
A few days later, when he was rested and healing, I brought the massive rack to his bedside. He grabbed the left antler, and I grabbed the right. There we sat, both nodding our heads, both smiling in complete silence. We shared a look of approval with one another. No words were needed.
I have yet to score my buck officially. I have had several others estimate it, and the consensus seems to be somewhere in the low to mid 140’s. But the size does not matter to me. This buck if for my father, my mentor, my inspiration as a hunter.
