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Kurt Williamson’s 10-pointer

November 22, 2008

Illinois hunting and fishing

Trophy Tidbits

Scorable Points: 10

Kill Date: November 22, 2008

County: Clark

Season: Shotgun

EDITOR’S NOTE: Here in the words of Annapolis hunter Kurt Williamson is the story of his hunt for a 10-point buck.

I have been hunting for about three years now.  I had a dream of one day shooting a deer, and with some encouragement from my family and my friends, I caught whitetail addiction. I am hunting a small, three acres with a finger between two cornfields. As an athlete, I haven’t had much time for shotgun season because of practice. This year I decided to not play basketball. I also decided I wanted to bowhunt. 

I had bought a scouting camera, and this past summer I got pictures of some nice bucks. Nobody hunts the area around me, so bucks get big without turning into freezer space. I didn’t receive my bow until middle October, so I missed a good oppurtunity at some activity. 

Because of the pictures on my camera, I decided to hunt two bucks. One is a 130-140 class non-typical 13-pointer, while the other is a 150-class typical 10-pointer with a 25+ inch spread. Time after time I never saw either buck. All I saw were small does and button bucks. 

Then one afternoon the 13-point buck, AKA Wally, cruised in from the corn to 20 yards, only to stop behind a tree. I had my PSE ready to smash him, but he never presented a shot. I decided to plan an week-long after-school ambush before shotgun season to pressure the deer into feeding there in the morning.

That Saturday morning my uncle Kevin and I got up long before daylight ready with anticipation. We took our time getting to our spot, not wanting to spook any bedded deer out. We sat at two separate trees next to each other. I was facing the deep woods, while he was facing the cut corn. About 15 minutes after sunrise he pointed behind me. 

Six does were walking out to feed on the corn. I was able to turn and see them, but not raise my 20 gauge Mossberg 500 quietly. Along with the 15-degree weather and the adrenaline pumping through me, I started shaking profoundly. The does moved on to the creek, probably to get downwind of us. 

After two hours, we left for my grandma’s house 400 yards up the cornfield. When we came back I had a good feeling for passing up the does. As the rut was in full swing, I was hoping a buck would catch the does’ trail. I switched trees to face where the does had been. After 15 minutes I heard a splash in the creek far behind me by a cow pasture Before I could get turned around to be ready I saw a doe fly past me, almost stepping on my legs.

When I heard a grunt behind me, I knew something big was there. He stood 2 yards behind my tree, sniffing for my scent. I knew he would run, so I turned around hoping to possibly catch him staring in curiosity. He was walking over a ridge as I turned but I could see the massive rack on this brute. This was a buck way out of my league, a 140-class 8 point.

I attempted to stalk the walking buck, to no success. It was time for some early lunch at 10:45. I told my grandma what happened, and she was excited for me. But I hadn’t given up yet, so by 11 a.m. I was back out there. 

I sat where I had sat when the does came through.  Fifteen minutes later I heard clashing in the corn to my right. As I turned my head, three large does came clashing in past me, and ran into the pasture behind me. What was behind them is what I was after.  A shooter buck. His scent was strong, neck swollen, hairs bristled Then he spotted me, 20 yards away. I couldn’t pull up to shoot at this time, as he was almost behind me. 

As he kept an eye on the does, he came in to 15 and smelled my Trail’s End #307. What he did next was very strange. He walked in to 7 yards, grunting and staring at me. I’d been had, or so I thought. He then proceeded on to the does. While walking behind me, I got on my knees. The does spotted me, and ran through the finger and into the other corn. The nice 10-pointer stopped behind a tree.That’s when I turned around to face him. 

As he crossed a stream and headed to the does I picked a spot through some trees and waited until his shoulder crossed my bead.  I pulled the trigger and nailed him at 25 yards. He fell right in his tracks. 

My first deer! A 10-point buck! That’s when I started shaking terribly. I couldn’t even stand up. 

The first thing I did was called my parents. They didn’t believe me at first but they realized the seriousness in my voice. My family came down to the woods and I got to field dress him myself. We loaded his 175-pound, field-dressed body into the back of a truck and took it to show everybody. My buck green scored 108 with only 3 inches of difference. His double brow tines make him unique. 

My parents joke that the wall mount is my Christmas present but they know that he means more to me than to be a present. He’s a memory.

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