The Tim Sickles Buck
My November 2007 season actually started in November of 2006 on the forth day of our hunt with Illinois Extreme Outfitters. My guide for the week, Tim Mueller, had moved me into an area where there was much more buck activity. My hunting partner Wayne had been seeing buck after buck not far from this area and I was looking forward to seeing a 180" class buck he hadseen. There was a cold front moving in with wind, rain and thunder and lighting. It was a little hard to stay in my stand with the weather, but we had seen two or three nice bucks on the walk in, and Tim and I were confident that it wouldn’t take long before I would see some action. After being in the stand for less than an hour, a pretty decent buck chasing a doe got my attention up the hill. He was at least a 135" class animal, they kept circling down my way but never close enough for a shot. Coming from New York to hunt Illinios for the first time, I got my first lesson on this day. With only 5 days to hunt be prepared to make shots of 40 to 50 yards. It may not always be necessary, but when the buck that you came for walks by at 35 yards and you can only confidently shoot 25 to 30, it is not a very good feeling.
I was still watching up the hill at two decent bucks and I suddenly caught movement coming from behind me down the hill. Even at first glance I knew he was a shooter. I grabbed my bow preparing for a shot, but as he walked by at 35 to 40 yards, I knew he was out of my range. Back home in New York I'm a good enough hunter and have alot of time to hunt. It's only a matter of time before I get a good 20 yard shot and get my buck at home. This was too nice of an animal to make a bad shot, so I watched in agony as this 150" plus buck walk away. Long G2s with a thick blade on the left side and plenty of mass. Now at 70 yards or more and still walking I sadly hung my bow back up but continud to desperately blow on my grunt tube as he walked out of sight into a thicket. I secretly vowed to myself next year I WILL be able to shoot 50 yards and that won't happen ever again. Tim and his brother Joe, I think were as disappointed as I was, but I knew I would return the folowing season.
With the closing of New York deer season and an unfilled Illinios tag still in my possession, I gave Joe Mueller a call asking about a late season hunt. He informed me that there were still plenty of deer and I was welcome to another try. So off we went, my father and I. Dad didn't have a tag but was up for the road trip and wanted to see some of the bucks I had talked about.
The weather was fair for being the first week of January, and definitely better than the two foot of snow we had back in New York. We must have been a little late however, as alot of the mature bucks had dropped their horns already. The first morning out I saw many does and a couple smaller bucks. We moved that afternoon to where my earlier hunting partner Wayne, had seen so many good bucks and that 180 incher that I never did get a look at. That evening I saw many more does and two bucks without horns. The next morning it was the same thing. Just a little depressing seeing bucks without horns, but hey I'm still hunting. Later that morning in the same area, dad and I were looking for a little better tree to climb for the evening hunt. I heard him call out, take a look at this. As he walked out of the brush holding a huge shed, I asked is that a fresh shed from this year? Sure looks like it to me he said. It was a huge 5 point with a long brow point and a 12" G2 and a 11" G3. The G2 was also somewhat bladed about 1 1/2" wide and it was the left side, I was sure that was the buck I had seen the prior November. That night we decided to pack up a day early and head for home but as we sat there we did take some quick measurements and figured the buck would have scored somewhere around 160".
Back home the first stop was my brother Gary Jr's house. As he held the antler in his hand, he asked what did it cost you to hunt there? I had a good feeling he would be going with me next year, and in June we applied for our tags.
November of 2007 couldn't come fast enough as Gary Jr and I loaded my dads truck with hunting gear and our brand new Mathew's Drenalin's. I now also had plenty of confidence at 45 yards. Dad came along for the ride with hopes of seeing some good bucks. We even brought the shed from last year, thinking Joe and Tim would like to see it. So many times I held it hoping to at least see this monster, maybe get a shot at him this year, and how much did he grow from last year?
Only time would tell.
After arriving at Illinois Extreme Outfitters camp and meeting the owners Gary, Joe, and Tim Mueller, we talked about who would go where. I asked Joe if possible I would like to start out in the area where I was last year, not a problem was his response there's some good sign there. The next morning November 4th we unloaded our tree stands and headed out. Finding the exact tree in the dark after almost a year turned out to be a little tougher than I thought, but I did, and had plenty of time before daylight. I started the climb up the tree, thinking god I like this climber, a summit viper, one of my better investments, other than my new Mathews bow. Finally pulling my bow up, knocking an arrow, checking my grunt tube, also new, (the growler) I was ready. Not long after daylight I caught movement off to the right, he's got horns and walking right at me. Maybe a shooter, but as he got closer he wasn't the one I wanted, at least not the first hour of our hunt in Illinois. He walked within 20 yards, rubbed a small tree until it broke off, tossed it off his antlers, and then moved closer and made a scrape. He was a ten pointer, about 16 or 17 inches wide, maybe 125" class. After several minutes of watching this cocky little cuss I had to look away before I changed my mind to shoot. By 9:30 I had seen three or four decent bucks and a few does but nothing to shoot at.
Before leaving New York I hunted three weeks without any luck, everything seemed late, still leaves on the trees, no bucks chasing does. "The rut will be late this year", I remember my dad saying on the ride to Illinios. Hoping it would be different when we arrived in IL, the leaves were still on and even still green, it seemed the old man might just be right.
By the end of the first day I had seen 7 different bucks, not bad for the first day, and my brother had just as good of a day. He had seen a couple of shooters, but either not close enough or not good shots. Tomorrow is another day. On the second morning by 10:00 I had seen only 3 does. Where did all the bucks go? Maybe I should have shot that one yesterday afterall.
After talking with my brother we thought maybe we would move somewhere different for the evening, he also had seen nothing all morning. Back at camp we talked to Tim and he assured us he could move us around and fined some bucks, but as our afternoon hunt came, I decided to go back to my same spot. Tim did move Gary Jr to a little diferent place and he did see a few bucks that night.
As I got ready to climb my tree I could here a deer grunting and running towards me so I knocked an arrow and waited. After just a few moments a doe ran by with a small 4 pointer not far behind, a good start. Finally in my stand I watched as other bucks came around sniffing the wind, wandering all around but still not chasing hard like I had hoped for. After a couple of hours I watched as a good buck started down the hill towards me, walking out of the thicket just a few steps, then he turned around and walked back into the thicket. Damn he was a nice one, I think I would have tried to stick him if I could. I never got him in my binoculars but I'm sure he was a shooter.
About an hour later, again out of the thicket where I watched a big buck dissappear almost a year ago walked a good buck, 150" anyway. He was heading off to my right about 100 Yards away. I didn't have to look at his rack again I new I would shoot if I had the opportunity. I grabbed my grunt tube and blew and blew and blew, no respone from him at all. Not this again I thought, just like last year. I did have one more weapon though, my Primos “The Can”, never really had any luck with it but desperate times call for desperate measures. I probably hit that can ten times and just before he went out of sight he stopped, so I tried it again and grunted too. All I could see of him now were feet, a few more steps and he would be over the bank to the creek bottom. I was sure he couldn't hear my grunt tube while he was walking in the dry leaves. The wind was blowing quite a bit now too, but he should be able to hear me, I thought, he's just standing there. Once more I grunted and then hit the can, and I watched his feet disappear.
Did he go over the bank, I watched and wondered, then I could see feet walking my way, he did hear my grunts and bleats. He's coming my way now. He walked along the top of the bank looking my way, he is a real nice buck, heavy dark horns and long tines. I reminded myself not to look at his horns anymore. As he approched forty yards, he stopped and smelled the ground. I remembered there was a doe standing right there a short while before. After several long minutes he started towards my shooting lane. At about thrity yards, I drew back as he walked into the opening, and let my arrow fly, I watched as the white knock flew at his chest, and at the last moment the arrow passed harmlessly right under his chest. O no NO NO, I couldn't believe it, I had practiced that shot all summer. With the noisy leaves and wind he didn't spook though, he just stopped, backed up, then turned around and walked back to where the doe had stood. By now, I had knocked another arrow and was thinking about how quiet this bow must be, he never heard it thankfully.
In all my years of hunting and all the deer I've shot, I can always keep it together no matter what size buck, until after I shoot. Well I had just shot and my left leg was out of control as I watched this buck stand there at forty yards with no shot at him. Not really knowing what to do at this point, I just waited to see what he was going to do. After what seemed forever, he turned and started to walk away. I reached for my growler tube again and grunted just once and his head snapped around. Looking for that other buck I'm sure as he started toward me again. Coming in at a different angle this time, he crossed the ditch and by now I'm thinking I'm going to get another shot at this bad boy. I'm standing, facing the tree that I'm in, and not sure which side he will come on. Finally he walked to the right side and I drew my Matthews back again.
Thinking about the same distance, I thought to myself, ok stupid you missed him last time aim a little higher this time. When the pin was slightly higher on his back, I let my arrow fly, watching in super slow motion, my arrow hit hard and solid, man these deer are big in the midwest. He spun around and I could see alot of arrow, it didn't look like it penetrated very deep. The shot was higher than I liked to see and farther back than I wanted. Although, I was shooting down at him and he was starting to quarter away a little. I still didn't like the looks of it as he crashed away down into the creek bottom where he wanted to go to all along. I watched until he disappeared, about 2 seconds I think I hope I made a good shot I thought, still not really sure. Then I heard leaves rustling on the other side of the creek bed. Did he just run out of there or did he go down I asked myself.
I looked at my watch, 4:45 pm. I'll wait until dark and then check it out. I put all my stuff away and waited, forever it seemed, and I’m still not liking my shot placement. I looked at my watch again, 4:49, this isn't going to work I thought. I looked for my first arrow from my tree and noticed some small twiggs hanging down I think I must have brushed through them on my first shot. That is what knocked the arrow down. Or, maybe I got a little higher in the tree today, because I hadn't noticed them yesterday.
I finally climbed down and walked over to my first arrow about thirty five yards away. A little farther than I thought, maybe that’s why I shot under him the first time, I thought to myself. My next purchase will have to be a range finder, I thought as well. I then walked over to where I hit the buck, thirty five yards, then right away found some small drops of blood. I followed the blood trail down into the creek bed, where I found my arrow. The very tip was broken off and as I looked at it I was sure it broke off in the front shoulder because it was bloody right to the fletching. I was feeling a little better at this point aboutmy hit. Coming out of the creek bed I couldn't find any more blood and it was getting dark. Remembering what Tim had told us, “if you hit one, don't chase it all over the place, come and get me”. I had to walk out this direction anyway, so I started up the hill and stopped to look back down one more time. There in the brush only ten yards from where I stopped looking I could see that familer white belly, there he is.
I walked over to him, YOU GOTTA BE KIDDIN ME, this thing is huge, first time ever there wasn't ground shrinkage it actually got bigger. I lifted his head up and coudn't believe it. It was the deer that had shed the antler we had found during our January hunt, no doubt in my mind.
I don't even know how big this rack is, more than 150” that’s for sure. An incredible feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction came over me. I left him there and started to walk out. It is only 3 or 4 hundred yards to the lane road where my dad was watching from the truck for deer and waiting for us to come out. As I appraoched the truck he got out and said “your flashlight is on in your pocket”. I just kind of looked at him. What’s the matter with you he said? Nothing, I said. Well turn off your flashlight then he said. Did you see anything he asked? Yeah I seen a big one, I said. No shootin he asked? Yeah I got him I said. No kiddin how big he asked? The biggest freaking buck I've ever seen, I replied as I reached into the back of the truck and pulled out the shed from last January. I got him, that’s how big he is. About this time Tim drove up to us and asked, nothing? Yeah I got one, I said. You kiddin me, how big, he asked? I don't know how big, just big, I replied. 140” 150” Tim asked? I don't know Tim it’s the biggest buck I've ever seen in my life, I told him. It’s hard to discribe the excitement at this point when you finally get to tell poeple about a deer that you just got, now as my brother approched I got to tell the story all over again.
After high five's and hand shake's we talked about how to get my buck out of the ravine. Tim said he would go get the four wheeler and meet us down there. My father, Gary jr and I walked quickly down toward him. Stopping part way down the brushy hillside we all agreed there's no way that four wheeler's going to make down here. About that time we could hear Tim coming and could see the head lights. We were impressed as he followed us the rest of the way down the hill. As we shinned our flashlight's in the area where the buck lay each one of us trying to see it first, I spotted the white belly and walked over to him. Holy shit! was everyone's first words, even mine. He still didn't ground shrink a bit, wow. Tim looked at me and said that's a 170" buck. That’s one of the best taken on the farm. I could only smile and couldn't wait to call home and tell my other hunting buddies, one in particular, Brian.
The shot that I had worried so much about hit him high around the last couple ribs and angled into his front shoulder. Hitting both lungs, he only ran about 65 or 70 yards. All the practice with my new Mathews Drenalin bow had payed off big time. We loaded him on the four wheeler and started up the hill. That was a little chore in itself but Tim graciously manuvered his way up the hill to the top. When we got to the truck we compared the shed to his rack. No doubt that was him, a clean 10 point with a sticker out of each bur, good mass and long tines. When we got back to camp and after much celebration Tim and I got out the tape and started measuring. We ended up with a gross score somewhere around 178". By far my biggest buck ever. The big old boy weighed in at 250 pounds. After a closer look I dug my mechanical broadhead out of his shoulder, not quite pericing the hide on the opposet side, it had opened perfectly.
For the next 2 days my brother hunted hard and looked at many bucks, some shooters, but never got one of the big ones close enough for a shot and passed on several smaller 120" class bucks. Joe and Tim were both hoping for him to get a nice buck. It does't always go that way, the kill is only a small part, its the enjoyment we all had talking of past hunts and passed times and just being in the tree watching and waiting. Thats all good stuff.
I finally got my buck scored after the 60 day drying period and ended up with a gross score of 174 5/8" and with 12 4/8" of deductions netted 162 1/8 inches typical boone and crockett points. I look forward to seeing Joe and Tim again as plans for next years hunt are are already being made. Maybe next year I can get a look at that 200" buck that is still running around out there, maybe even get a shot (or two) at him. It’s never ending and that’s the best part of it all.
Written by Tim Sickles
