The Kansas season opened in mid-April and so myself and a friend from Colorado, Jim Sanford, set out on April 18th for my first hunt of the season. I was going to hunt Kansas with a shotgun as my Arizona hunt in early May, was going to be only archery.
  
In Manhattan I met up with Steve and we found ourselves a motel in a small town south of Manhattan where we planned to hunt. The next morning we were up bright and early to head out to a spot where Steve had spotted a bunch of turkeys. We tried to located a bird at several locations that morning and heard nary a sound. WOW, this hunt was starting out to be a bust. 
We went and check another property and walked all morning and saw very little sign and absolutely not a bird. Going back to town we decided it was time for a bite of lunch and to regroup. Steve, and my friend Jim Sanford, headed out to the east of town and I decided to try and locate another landowner who I had talked on the phone with a few week earlier. 

Things looked really good at the new property so I went back to the motel to wait for Steve and Jim to return. They arrived back at the motel and we decided to head out for the new property I had located. I dropped Steve and Jim off at a cornfield surrounded by some nice wooded hillsides and ravines. It looked like a perfect spot to either get into birds or put one to bed early in the evening. In the meantime, I headed for a spot a few miles east of them. Steve's final words to me were "meet us back here when you get your bird." 

I pulled through a pasture and down to a creek bordered by woods and parked. I began walking down the creek, stopping to call every 100 yards or so. After three stops I heard a distant gobble. It sounded like it was coming from across the creek. I set up by a large tree just on the edge of the creek. If I could call the bird into the clearing on the other side, I would have about a 40 yard shot.
I called again and again was greeted with a gobble -- closer. A few seconds later, another gobble only this one was BEHIND me. I had been fooled by the sound of the gobble bouncing off a hill as to his true direction. He was actually coming in hard and fast from across the pasture behind me. 
I turned around and quickly moved up the creek bank to the edge of the pasture. I peeked over the top of the bank and here he came on the dead trot right to me. He stopped an easy 25 yards out. the shot dropped him cleanly in his tracks. A great Kansas tom. He weighed in at about 22 pounds and had a really thick 9" beard.

Putting him in the back of the truck I drove back to Steve and Jim's field and they were hardly out of sight. As they came toward the truck I yelled at Steve, "What was that you said when I left -- come back here after I get my bird?" 

It turned out to be the only bird taken on the trip but I could tell this was going to be the beginning of a great year. 

A few weeks later I packed up my truck and headed for the Kibab near Grand Canyon for another turkey hunt with Al, a friend from Arizona. Al had his daughter and wife with him and we immediately got into birds. The plan was to get the wife and daughter birds first and then Al and I would call for one another as we tried to slam one with a bow. By the end of day one we had two birds down for Al's wife and daughter and it was the beginning of another great hunt. The next day Al nd I would set out to try our luck at AZ Merriums with our bows. That night the wind came up and never quit for the balance of the hunt. There was no way were could call or hardly even hunt birds in 40 mph winds that never stopped blowing. 

Had my luck run out so quick?

I spent the summer teaching archery classes for our local recreation department hoping that I had drawn the unit of my choice for elk in Colorado. I had spotted and watched a herd of resident elk not very far from my home in Buena Vista, Colorado and was anxious to hunt them. My luck became evident again as the Division of Wildlife notified me that I had drawn the unit of my choice. I knew there was a huge 7x7 elk in the area and I was anxious to get after him.

I put up a tree stand over a great pond and waited until August 28th when the Colorado Bow season opened. Opening morning found me in a tree stand over my pond. Since I had put up my stand, several elk had visited the water hole tracking the area all up and forming a fresh wallow where a spring seeped out of the ground. What a perfect set-up! 

That morning a cow elk walked right under my tree stand but no sign of any of the bulls that were in the area. It was my only day to hunt as I had some job commitments for the next several days and couldn't get out.
Mike McConnell (Frosty) from Ohio arrived on September 10th for a week long hunt and the elk were ready. We got into bugling elk nearly everyday. We hunted water holes morning and evening the first couple of days and Mike had a cow and a small bull come in, but he was looking for bigger elk. We jumped the huge 7x7 and hunted him hard the next few days. We got into several cows, calves and smaller bulls during this time but passed on them in favor of the big bull. Finally with two days left in Mike's hunt, he decided it was time to get his first elk and anything was fair game.

We called in three bulls and Mike had the perfect shot at 18 yards on a nice 4x4.  It was the perfect setup. Mike drew his bow and lined up on the elk and almost the minute he released I heard a "CRACK" and saw his arrow skim under the bull and stick in the ground. He had hit a small twig -- probably the only one in five yards in any direction. Rotten luck for him. Mike left, dejected, two days later.

I took a respite from hunting and with three days left in the bow season I figured I'd better shoot the first elk I saw. I went out early in the morning, got the elk bugling again and moved toward the closest one. Suddenly I saw legs in the trail 70 yards in front of me.

I stopped and snuggled up to a tree and cow called softly. The bull turned and quartered toward me. I had to draw when he was about 40 yards away where some brush screening his view and wait until he cleared the brush at 30 yards. It took him forever to walk that 10 yards. As soon as he was clear I released. I hit him further back than I wanted and was disappointed because I thought this might be a long and difficult trailing job.

The season ended in Colorado and now I looked forward to a whitetail hunt in late October with Mike in Ohio.
 

John Maynard (COJO) with his 166 gross gereen score P&Y buck taken in Ohio.

Flying into Ohio on October 25th I planned to arrive just at the perfect pre-rut time. The deer would still be following scrape and rub lines and I would be able to pattern them. The weather was miserably hot!

Mike has set up my stand on the edge of a winter wheat field. He had hunted it a couple of nights and had seen a few does and fawns and one fairly nice 8 point and a good four point buck. I had both a doe and a buck license in my pocket and was ready to take the first doe I saw. It had been 12 years since I had been whitetail hunting and I was anxious to take one. The winter wheat field was the perfect spot to do it and then I could head for some deeper wooded areas while I searched for a nice buck using rub and scrape lines.

The next morning, as I walked into the stand I spooked several deer. This is not good, I thought to myself -- This was not a good morning stand. But I climbed into the stand anyway and by 10 a.m. nothing had come into the field. As I was getting ready to leave the stand, a small spike buck entered the field. Why couldn't it have been a doe. Such an easy shot. It walked over to within five yards of my stand and stood there looking the other way. I wasn't gonna waste this buck license I was holding on any spike. He finally exited the field and so did I. 

As I met Mike I told him about the deer I had spooked that morning and said, we got to find somewhere else to hunt in the mornings. We're spooking too many deer coming in here.

That night as I was going into the stand I spotted a nice doe in the field but there was no way I could get a shot at her. I waited until she left and then climbed into my stand hoping she would come back. I wanted to get this doe permit filled the first day so I could concentrate on a good buck.

At 6:20, with about a half hour of shooting light left, I suddenly saw a deer coming into the field. 

Gads, this was a nice buck. It must be the 8 point Mike had seen earlier. As he came out of the brush into the field I could see it was a 10 point and heavy horned. 

I had been so used to seeing big horned mule deer and elk that even though this looked like a good deer I wasn't overly impressed with it immediately. But as it came across the field getting closer I could see some incredible mass to this animal.

It continued on a straight path toward me and I wondered if I was going to even get a shot. I was not about to try this animal coming straight on. Finally, 15 yards away the deer stopped and looked back presenting me with a quartering toward me shot. Not the shot I really wanted but I felt if I let it go any further it would walk straight under my stand and never give me the shot I wanted before scenting me.

I put the pin where I wanted to shoot and the arrow flew straight and perfect. I head the deer run off and then silence. I knew it hadn't gone far. 

 I climbed out of the tree and went over to where Mike had set up about 100 yards away.

He had heard the shot and was climbing down out of the tree. 

"I think I just shot a Pope and Young buck," I said. 

"Ya, sure," he answered. "Now you're kidding me." 

"No, seriously. It's a good animal," I repeated. 

It seemed to take Mike forever to get down out of the tree and get his stand packed up.

By the time we got back to the field it was totally dark. I showed Mike where the buck was standing when I shot him and where it had run. We went to the path it had taken into the woods and the blood trail was unmistakable. Not drips but splotches of blood on both sides of the trail.

"He won't go far," said Mike. Just them we found a big pool of blood and Mike shined the light to the right. 

"Holy #$%(*" he exclaimed. "That's the biggest buck I've ever seen." 

It had only gone about 60 yards from where I hit it. Mike guessed the score in the 140's and I didn't have a clue how big it was. After dressing and packing the animal out, the landowner saw the deer and promptly announced it was the "Right-Of-Way Buck" he had been hunting for the last couple of years. 

The next morning we had the animal fully skinned and dropped it off at the taxidermist. He unofficially measured it at 166 green gross. Far bigger than any of us thought but again the mass was what made the animal score so well.

"Biggest one I've seen in awhile," declared the taxidermist."

Yes, 1999 has been a good year for me. I wonder what 2000 holds?