Five missed calls and 33 new emails. I slid the phone back in my pocket and stared at the Y in the trail contemplating my dilemma: go to work or keep looking. An October snow storm prompted me to take a couple of hours off in the morning to go hunt my favorite stand. The wind was right and I knew the rut was kicking off. It was a Wednesday and I told myself I would sit until 10:00 am. I could return phone calls on my drive back home and should be at my desk by 11:15 a.m. It was already 10:30 a.m. and I hadn’t been able to find a single speck of blood.
Let Freedom Fling
The Twelfth Hour
My mind did not immediately register what I had seen. Looking to my hard left to investigate the sudden noise I expected to see a squirrel for the 500th time that day. Quickly returning my eyes to the two does out in front of me I realized I had seen a buck creating a scrape less than 10 yards from the base of my tree. Peering back over my shoulder I confirmed my eyes were not playing tricks on me as he started to move. If I was going to capitalize on the opportunity unfolding during the last minutes of shooting light in the 12th hour of hunting I would need to act now…