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Other Columns By Linda...
Due to various unbelievable circumstances, that hunt fell apart at the last minute. I was stunned. However, I was saved by the Jaycox and Boone Productions people, who happened to be hunting in that area at the same time. Hearing that my hunt had fallen through, Ted Jaycox indicated they might have an extra stand or two and to come on down. They were filming for their show "World of Hunting" and my company WildTech was a minor sponsor on their program. Everything seemed "seat of the pants" at this point, with even the overbooked motel having a last minute opening when I phoned from 200 miles away. Being a hyper-organized type person, I found all these events to be disconcerting, but I was grateful to have a place to hunt. The flat highways had evolved into the lazy rolling hills of southwestern Kansas and I was beginning to wonder if I would ever reach my destination. My F-150 reached the crest of yet another huge hill, and the twinkling lights of the town of Ashland suddenly appeared on the horizon, bright against the stark black of night. It reminded me of that ethereal hidden city in the movie E.T. and I felt like a kid awestruck at seeing their first Christmas tree. This was it. I was here. I was exhausted, but I was ready to hunt.
I was soon to find that Jaycox and Boone were quintessential hosts and remarkably organized with the eighteen or so hunters attending this seven-day hunt. This was the second group of hunters to be guided by Jaycox and Boone. The previous group had a better than 100% success rate the week before, with every hunter either having the opportunity or actually taking a shot at Pope and Young class whitetails. I felt like a bit of a piker in this elite group of trophy hunters, with only one 105 class eight point buck under my belt, but I was ready to give it my all.
"The Thrill of Restraint" may seem like an oxymoron, but once you have experienced it for the first time, you know it's true. On Sunday morning, after watching does wander around my stand, I spotted antlers and a big body in the thickets forty yards away. I whispered to the cameraman Ron, that a big-bodied deer was at his 11 o'clock position, and since my stand was on the opposite side of the tree and I was already standing, I turned slowly and pressed my release onto my bowstring.
I must have asked Ron ten times "Are you sure he's not Pope and Young. Are you sure???" He was sure. It was the biggest racked deer I had seen to date and not being able to shoot him was sheer torture. He stood posed for a perfect broadside shot for what seemed an eternity. My kneecaps started chattering like castanets as I stood there watching the buck slowly fade into the woods. My long and pregnant sigh spoke my heart. This restraint was much more difficult, and much more exciting, than any actual shot I had ever taken. The criterion for this hunt was only to shoot Pope and Young, and I wanted to honor that code. I could have played dumb and skewered a lesser animal, but I would only have been cheating myself.
The hunters in our group consisted of hunting industry manufacturers, outdoor writers and "World of Hunting" sponsors. With my fledgling manufacturing business, and with only being an outdoor writer for three years, I felt like the Grasshopper in a group of Masters. I kept asking myself "Why am I here?" I spent the week observing; asking questions, learning and eagerly pursuing each morning and evening hunt as it was my first time in the woods. I didn't want it to end. The last time I departed Kansas was spring of this year, leaving my buddies Blaine and Terry after our turkey hunt. Then, as now, once I got in my truck and started on the long drive home, I got a sort of separation anxiety. It was hard to leave the group. Jaycox and Boone were unique. In an world of soaring egos, demagoguery, gossip and grudges, Jaycox and Boone stood out as first class in their professions, yet humble, generous and unassuming in their manner. Every hunter was treated with respect and the hunt was organized to perfection. There were some fifty stands, intelligently selected and pre-scouted as productive. Every detail was meticulously considered. Hunters were given the choice to relocate stands or move to other stands for a more productive hunt. I brought my own stand, but only used it twice. Although I did not get a shot at a P and Y buck, and although I could have shot many does and chose not to, it was one of the most memorable hunts I have ever attended. The Thrill of Restraint is hard to explain. When you have an animal in range that would be your personal best, but you pass the shot, it's tough. But it truly is a thrill. I had passed a number of small bucks and does at my own land in Minnesota this year, and my hunting buddy Dale said I had reached the "next level of hunting" in doing so. Maybe so. In Firearm Safety classes, we teach the "Five Stages of the Hunter", and although all hunters do not experience these five stages in totality or even in order, they are:
Jaycox and Boone have limited space available on their Kansas trophy whitetail hunts. You can find complete information by visiting them at www.talltine.com * Copyright 2003 by Linda K. Burch Linda K. Burch
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The
endless gray ribbons of Kansas highways had become a blur as night fell
on this, my thirteenth hour of driving. Kansas held warm memories
after my first spring turkey hunt here ended in my bagging a nice gobbler
with a shotgun this year. Fate smiled on me two months later when
I opened the envelope from Kansas Wildlife and Parks and to my delight,
I had been drawn for a 2001 deer archery tag. Fate seemed to favor
me again when an outfitter and customer offered me a free hunt in exchange
for my promoting his operation.
After
settling in and getting a good night's sleep, I was invited the next day
to shoot arrows for practice before getting organized for the evening hunt.
The hunting group and film crew were scattered over several hotel locations
with plans to meet each day for lunch at a restaurant in another town,
and for dinner at a Bed and Breakfast in Ashland.
On
Saturday and Sunday, I had a cameraman with me in my tree, with the hopes
of getting some video footage of a kill. Not being a trophy hunter,
I was still learning how to judge a Pope and Young buck. I had studied
dozens of photographs of P and Y bucks, but I had never seen one live.
The biggest buck I have ever seen in the wild now hangs above the fireplace
in my office. I have been hunting for a number of years, and there
was nothing as thrilling as the anticipation and culmination of executing
a successful bow kill. Until now. I was about live an even
more exciting experience, and that was, the Thrill of Restraint.
I
always feel every muscle in my back and arms tighten up with anticipation
and I was especially primed at that moment. The beautiful buck stepped
into the clearing, now 35 yards from me -- the outside distance of my accuracy
range but I was confident I could make the shot. I was able
to will away my buck fever as always, and I readied myself. I swear,
adrenaline makes a buck rack look twice it's actual size, but even in my
excited tizzy, this buck's antlers didn't look much larger than my buck
from last year. Ron confirmed that he was more likely about a 115-class
buck.
On
Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, I hunted alone and saw dozens of deer.
I brought my own video camera and got some great footage as well.
I had "gimme" shots at two more eight pointers in that same 115-120 range
class, plus a forkhorn, two spikes and numerous does. I actually
drew on one of the eight pointers and several of the does, not intending
to release the arrow, but just to exercise my newfound adrenaline rush
-- the Thrill of Restraint. Veteran hunters and professionals
in the hunting industry are probably used to holding back on shots, but
not me. This was all new territory.
