What do the November issue of the Chimney Rock Chronicle and muzzleloading hunting season have in common? Correct! Both have finally arrived.
For this month’s ramble I’m going back almost 40 years. I remember because this story happened a few weeks after the devastating election day flood of 1985. Morefield WVA was under water, the trailer park in Criders washed away, and many of the flood control dams in the mountains were damaged.
Most of the National Forest roads were washed out, but I was able to lock-in the old 4×4 and make it into Straight Hollow. At least most of the way. The first stream crossing after turning off the main power line road was impassable even with a four-wheel drive vehicle. Regardless I had it in my head to walk back into the head of Straight Hollow even though it meant an extra quarter mile hike. It was a long walk and tough going through the washed-out creek bottoms, but I finally made it to my stand on a gently sloping oak flat at the edge of thick laurel.
To make matters worse, I forgot my hat!! I normally don’t wear hats but when sitting still for hours in the cold frosty woods, it’s a necessity. Especially when your hair is sweated wet from the walk in. My only option was to drape my bandanna over my head. This didn’t work the best but you couldn’t beat the look. I made it OK for a while, but the wind began to blow and even the sun couldn’t warm me up. After a few hours I had to stand up and move around a bit to stay warm. But I was determined to stick it out.
Suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement below me not that far away. To my great surprise it was a buck with a prominent rack of antlers moving with purpose through the oak flat. Caught completely off guard I struggled to get my gun in position for a shot. By then the buck was only about 30 yards away but moving quickly at a steady pace. I don’t like shooting at moving targets but I steadied myself, picked an open spot, put the cross hairs on the shoulder and pulled the trigger. The gun roared but buck gave no response. I missed!! The buck was getting further away by the moment as I jacked another shell into the chamber of the 7mm-08. For some reason just before it got into the thick laurel it stopped. I steadied myself and fired again. This time the buck went down. Gun at ready I excitedly made my way to the downed deer and found a nice 8-point lying in the leaves.
After a few minutes of celebration, the “fun” began. I field dressed the buck and started the long 1-1/2 mile drag out to the truck. The drag itself was bad enough under normal circumstances, but the storm damaged stream crossings made it even more difficult to navigate. The cut-out banks and debris from trees and brush made for quite a challenge. Not to mention the streams were still running full. With continued effort and many rest stops, a few hours later I made it to the last stream crossing. There the steep stream bank worked to my advantage because I could back the truck up to it, lower the tailgate and easily load the 8-point.
Another hunter had set-up camp nearby. He came over to admire my buck, we talked for a bit and I headed for home. Looking back, it is hard to believe what I used to do to appease my urge to hunt. This time it paid off with a nice 8-point buck and the memories that go with it.
Stay safe, have a productive hunting season and a happy Thanksgiving!!
R.D. Cullers
Graduate of Bergton Elementary (Class of ’65)
