It's easy to wake up early when you're in big deer country. Deer hunters will understand this. Most of the time I'm counting the minutes 'til the alarm goes off.
It was cold, overcast & still light raining when Joey and I left camp. No hurry, it wouldn't be light 'til almost 7.
A pleasant north wind was still blowing when we got to our spot, the kind that would chill you to the bone if you didn't have a cozy blind to roll into.
Before I could see, Joey said there was a deer under the feeder but he couldn't tell how big. It was still way too dark. The last time he said that, it turned out to be a really nice 8 point that I missed last year. And I'd almost forgotten about it.
This guy was an old 10 point that seemed more intent on eating corn than anything else. A big mature 8 did show up, but we weren't looking for a cull today.
A beautiful young 9 and several does came and went throughout the morning, along with all kinds of other birds & animals to watch. It's amazing how much life the dry brush country can hold.
Down the road, a nice young 10 showed up, the kind of deer that could really be something if he lives 4 more years. And when I put the binocs down I saw another one coming out behind him. A big one.
"It's him!" We both said at the same time...
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