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Old 10-22-2009, 11:12 PM
TBow TBow is offline
Muley
 
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: Southeastern Ontario
Posts: 56
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Every year I usually ask some of my buddies that if they tag any deer, bucks or does, that I'd really appreciate it if they'd salvage the urine from the deer's bladder when they're field dressing it. I even told them I'd provide the jars to drain the bladders into if required. If you've ever purchased any deer scents from your local sports or hunting stores, then you'll know the term, "liquid gold", isn't resticted to only to Texas tea (oil that is).

Well I'd been fortunate enough to have tagged a small buck myself one year, as I'd been getting tired of eating tag soup over the past four or five years due to the fact that I'd been holding out for a Boonie or even a P&Y. Not wanting to let anything go to waste, I drained the buck's bladder just as I'd requested of my friends. I figured I could use it for making mock scrapes later on or next year if the stuff would hold up that long.

The jar made it home with me and I used it to pour miniscule amounts from time to time into a small plastic squirt bottle. Even a couple of my buddies asked if they could refill their buck scent cannisters from my cache.

The original glass jar of drained buck urine was stored in my basement where I soon forgot about it. Well one year turned into two or three, and when I finally stumbled across the forgotten and stowed jar, the contents had turned into a dark solution. I cracked the top of the jar to verify its contents, and WHOAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! Someone please turn on a fan and put out an airfreshener! Needless to say, it was somewhat potent!

O.K. I'd dodged a bullet on this venture in that the jar hadn't broken from me inadvertently knocking it off its perch in my basement and breaking it or allowing the fermenting elixir to litterally blow the top off the jar. Whatever the potential cause may have ended up being, allowing the contents of that jar to permeate my household, would in all probability bring about my referring to my current significant other as, "the ex #1".

Better get that stuff out'ta the house before, well, you know! So on my next hunting excapade, I loaded up the Mason jar with its precious yet potent contents into my fanny pack and off I went.

I had two stand sites located in a well used corridor. One stand was in a travel way from a feed to a bedding area with an annual secondary scrape within bowshot range adjacent to it, and the second stand was on the edge of a heavily bushed bedding area. Both stand sites were about 300 yards apart. If you've hunted for any number of years, you'll know the feeling of pondering over which stand to hunt out of, even up to the moment when you're approaching your stand location. I was no different and wasn't able to make my mind up until the moment I verfified that there'd been little activity on the secondary scrape that overlooked my first stand site. So it was off to stand site #2. But before leaving stand site #1, I took the opportunity to empty the carefully aged and black contents from the jar that had been tenderly packed and padded in my fanny pack.

I opened the jar, whilst wearing latex gloves and ensuring that the jar was held as far outright from my person as humanly possible with outstretched arms. I even positioned myself to stay downwind hoping that no foul fumes would attach themselves to yours truly. I dumped a small amount into the old scrape, then took the remaining 1-1/2" of the pungeant fluid and simply flung it into the tree branches overhanging the scrape. WHEW! Exit stage left!

I hunted stand site #2 for the morning 'till about 9:30 a.m. I managed to spot one doe and her fawn, but things were just too quiet so I opted to get down and do a little still hunting. I cautiously took my time working my way back to stand site #1. About 50 yards from that location, I heard what I can only decribe as what sounded like a 300 lb football linebacker with a severe case of asthma! The wheezing was loud, intense and frequent.

Suddenly, a doe popped out of a bunch of hawthornes from the direction of the scrape that I'd baited that morning. I was standing on the deer trail directly in her way as she bounded towards me. But she wasn't making the heated coughs that I'd been hearing. They were still coming from behind her. At 5 yards she finally noticed me and took a 90 degree turn and bounded off to my left. Immediately, a 10 point 160 + class monster broke through the hawthornes and followed the little doe's trail. At 5 yards from me he also broke to my left, but I believe that his deviation wasn't from me spooking him, but rather was his hot pursuit of his estrus girlfriend. As he wielded to my left, I drew in a single motion and released an arrow at 8 yards. Now I may be no Robin Hood, but I firure I can pop ping pong balls fairly consistantly at under 10 yards. Well unfortunately for me, that buck hadn't ever heard of ping pong, cause I missed him clean.

He continued his love lorn chase as I heard him crash off through the bush another 100 yards away. My heart was racing, and my breathing was laboured as I couldn't believe what had just transpired in front of me. It had all happened so quickly not allowing me to prepare. But just as I was licking my symbolic wounds over my missed trophy opportunity, more wheezing and crashing sounds were coming from the hawthornes that had produced the first two whitetails. All of a sudden, a larger 12 pointer emerged from whence the 10 point had first appeared. He looked quite ticked and ready for a fight as steam was blasting from his nostrils. He bounded my way, but his appraoch was more cautious as he appeared to be scanning the area looking for his competition and any other obstacles in his path.

At 30 yards I began my draw from a now kneeling position on the trail. The potential Boone & Crocket beheamoth picked up on my movement and wheeled 180 in a flash. He ran to a high point which ironically was directly under my tree stand #1. He stood there for a moment trying to get his bearings as we could both still hear the first buck crashing and snorting some 100 yards away. A small 6 pointer appeared from behind the 12 pointer and the two suitors immediately raced off to the sounds of the first buck and doe by skirting my position by 60 yards or so.

I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming in some hunting fantasy. Or was it a hunting nightmare? Two possible Booners in less than 20 seconds at 8 and 30 yards respectively and not a single hair touched. I swung to the location of my first shot and located my earthed and bloodless arrow. Was I disappointed? You betch'a! But the more I was able to ponder on the experience in the days to come and after the season was over, the more I came to realize just what an encounter it had been. I've taken several other animals, but this one animaless hunt is the one that always seems to come to mind when I sit around the campfire and tell stories about the game taken ot the one(s) that got away!

And what about that elixir that I'd spread earlier that morning. Was it the cause of the multiple encounter, or was it just by chance that those 4 deer were practising the Dating Game at that time and in that exact location? Don't know for sure, but you can be rest assured, I try to remember to carry a small jar when afield in order to gather more natural scents whenever possible.

TBow
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