(Writer images)

The hunt for this deer started in 1973, when my Uncle Bob and Aunt Pat bought an 80-acre parcel of land “up north” in central Wisconsin. Each October, Uncle Bob, together with my dad, grandpa, and different relations and associates would set out searching for a buck they’d name “The Large Kahuna.”

This was again within the days earlier than path cameras and nicknaming deer. My household wasn’t searching for any deer particularly; they have been simply searching for a buck to convey dwelling which may earn them prime honors as the largest buck taken that season by taking part relations. Some years, it might be a 10-pointer; different years it might be a button buck; and nonetheless some years the trophy may go unawarded for lack of capturing a buck altogether.

Not lengthy after “The Farm” was bought, an annual household reunion was began. Its goal was to collect all relations who had dispersed throughout the nation an opportunity to get again collectively and perhaps put in somewhat treestand time every fall.

Earlier than I had sufficient muscle to attract a bow able to killing a deer, I fondly keep in mind anxiously ready for darkish so I might take heed to the tales being instructed by these hunters getting back from the woods. Profitable or not, I used to be jealous of their capacity to exit searching for the Large Kahuna, and I dreamed of the day after I’d get to inform my story by the campfire.


Time flies, and earlier than I knew it, I used to be sitting 20 ft up in a treestand with bow in hand, in pursuit of a trophy of my selecting.

Since I had tagged out on a buck in Missouri on opening day of the 2021 archery season, I used to be desirous to get after rutting Wisconsin bucks the primary week of November. I had e-scouted completely different items of public floor with my onX app weeks earlier than the journey and already had a handful of spots close to the farm that I needed to take a look at.

My dad John Burk (left) and Uncle Bob Skiera (proper).

Arriving on the farm, I spent the subsequent a number of hours catching up with household over meals and soccer — too many hours in actual fact, because the end result was a late begin on the subsequent day’s morning chores, like buying a looking license on the town.

Getting again to the farm round midday the subsequent day, my uncle instructed me that I ought to go to a spot he had picked out within the far northwest nook of the property. Like all moral bowhunters ought to do after prolonged journey, I shot a couple of arrows simply to ensure all was effectively with my archery setup earlier than heading out for the afternoon’s hunt.

The sandy four-wheeler path I used to be utilizing to entry my uncle’s steered hunt space was affected by scrapes and different signal made by rut-crazed bucks searching for receptive does — additional including to my confidence and pleasure. Upon reaching my vacation spot, I instantly realized why my uncle needed me to be there: It was a south-facing hillside thick with seedling oaks, briars, scattered white pines, and different cowl, which ultimately opened as much as a hardwood flat. It was the right funnel for a mature buck cruising to discover a doe.

After discovering a couple of most important trails that linked the open hardwoods to the duvet of the thickets on both aspect, I began trying to find the “proper tree.” With nearly all of the deer journey patterns operating east and west, and with a northwest wind, I elected to hunt from a giant pink maple tree situated on the south aspect of the flat.

I had fairly a couple of deer funnel previous me that night, together with a doe that I used to be lucky sufficient to make shot on. I referred to as my dad to convey his ATV out to assist me get better her, and after we acquired her loaded, we grabbed the SD playing cards out of the 2 path cameras that my uncle had out.

I shot this doe the evening earlier than from the identical stand.

My uncle mentioned he wouldn’t be looking the subsequent morning, so fueled by the joy of the earlier evening’s success, mixed with a number of trail-camera photos of a mature 11-pointer, I used to be up effectively earlier than dawn the subsequent morning and hiked again out to the identical stand. I wasn’t disillusioned by my resolution.

It was a chilly and frosty morning, the type the place the air stings the within of your nostrils with each breath. It was precisely the type of climate to get a mature buck on his ft and searching for the primary receptive does. Earlier than it was mild sufficient to see, I might hear deep grunts coming by way of the woods, accompanied by the sound of crunching leaves. I might barely include my pleasure as I anxiously waited for sufficient mild for my eyes to confirm what my ears have been already telling me was occurring.

Ultimately, I noticed a doe operating in from the southeast with a younger buck matching her step for step. Behind them have been two different bucks that determined to cease and battle one another about 80 yards away.

Round 9 a.m., it began to snow, and about an hour later I heard one thing strolling to the west. Instantly, I acknowledged the bone-white antlers of the 11-pointer that we had studied photos of the evening earlier than.

The buck was 60 yards away, and he was on a path that might lead him to inside 40 yards of me. However as rapidly as he got here into my life, he was out of it, and I discovered myself watching the buck slowly slip over the hill and out of sight. I rattled and grunted at him in an try and convey him again into my life, however I acquired no response. I climbed down an hour later and headed again to the home for lunch.

Once I acquired again to the home and shared the morning’s experiences with my dad and uncle, I might see their pleasure for me — the identical pleasure I had for them upon their return from the woods after I was a child. I attempted to get my uncle to go hunt the stand that afternoon, however he gave me too many causes as to why he was busy and insisted that I’m going again on the market. I’ve little question that he needed to go, however I might additionally sense that my killing the buck would imply extra to him than his killing the buck…and I can’t thank him sufficient for that.

Quickly after lunch, I discovered myself again in the identical stand. It was nonetheless chilly, with a light-weight and variable wind, however the barometric stress was rising, and together with it, so was my confidence.

It wasn’t lengthy earlier than a small eight-pointer approached from the southeast, together with a doe cautiously coming in from the northwest. When the pair acquired to inside 15 yards of my tree, the younger buck pinned his ears again and snort-wheezed on the doe, after which promptly chased his unwilling date again within the course from which she’d come.

It was pretty quiet till sundown, however in typical rut trend, that rapidly modified.

I heard a deer to the northwest of me on the path that a whole lot of the earlier deer I’d seen had been utilizing. Mild was fading, however I might see the deer’s physique coming over the hill about 100 yards away and its steps sounded far more assured than these made by the youthful bucks that had beforehand wandered by.

Via my binoculars, I might see the suitable half of his rack. He had foot-tall, cut up G-2 and G-3’s on that aspect. I knew it wasn’t the 11-pointer from the path cameras, however there was little question that he was a shooter.

I instantly reached for my bow and rangefinder. Guessing what path he would take, I ranged a tree subsequent to it the place I might have a shot alternative and acquired a studying of 42 yards. I had persistently practiced out to 60 yards and felt extraordinarily assured with that shot distance, however he was transferring so quick that instincts took over and I made the everyday “meh” sound utilized by many hunters to cease a transferring deer… Besides I hadn’t drawn my bow again but. I froze.

To my reduction, the buck dropped his head and continued on the identical path. This time, I drew my bow earlier than making an attempt to cease him. It was nonetheless effectively inside authorized capturing mild, with loads of mild for me to see how huge his antlers actually have been, however I composed myself sufficient to disregard that reality and as a substitute targeted all my consideration on the spot behind his shoulder. The buck was simply past the tree I’d ranged at 42 yards, so I buried my 50-yard pin on that spot and launched my arrow.

I watched because the orange glow of my lighted nock hit the buck sq. in his shoulder and about six inches increased than the place I had been aiming…and he dropped!

I’ve by no means climbed out of a tree so quick in my life. As quickly as my ft touched the bottom, I took off operating towards him. Realizing backbone pictures normally require a follow-up shot, I promptly despatched a second arrow into his chest as rapidly as I might.

I needed to sit down subsequent to my buck and take a minute to totally course of what had simply occurred.

That’s when my mind let my eyes see what had grown on prime of his head. The buck’s large rack had 14 factors and later measured 189 P&Y-style inches. I used to be awestruck and in whole disbelief that I’d had so many encounters the primary two days after which ended up killing this large buck none of us knew existed.

I sat down subsequent to the buck for a number of minutes, shaking whereas persevering with to attempt to catch my breath. Then I pulled out my telephone and referred to as my dad.

I might hear the joy in Dad’s voice as he requested for particulars, however between my incapability to assume straight and a weak telephone sign, I merely instructed him, “Deliver the buggy and get out right here as quickly as attainable!”

I sat and stared at my buck, whereas additionally thanking God for the chance and my late Uncle Bob for for placing his nephew’s needs earlier than his personal and sending this magnificent animal my method. Uncle Bob had handed away 17 years in the past, however his ashes have been unfold alongside the identical hillside the place I now sat.

When my dad and Uncle Steve arrived, the celebration actually acquired began. They couldn’t imagine their eyes both, as nobody who hunted the farm had ever seen a deer of this dimension. Numerous photos have been taken, and once more, I might see the identical pleasure of their eyes for my success as they’d most likely seen in mine for theirs through the years.

There was a hearth going once we lastly acquired again to the home. We sat round it and instructed tales whereas watching the hearth’s glow replicate off my buck’s antlers. I now had picture-perfect reminiscences to final a lifetime, and a “Large Kahuna” story of my very own that I’ll inform ceaselessly!

The creator lives in Fulton, Missouri, along with his fiancé, Kristen, their two canines and a cat. He works as an ag gross sales specialist for Ranch and Farm Ag Providers and Whitetail Properties.

Writer’s Notice

My gear on this hunt included a Mathews V3 bow, Easton 5MM FMJ arrows, NAP broadheads, Nockturnal lighted nocks, Carter launch, Summit Viper SD stand, Nostril Jammer spray, LaCrosse boots, Realtree camo, Vortex binoculars, Bushnell rangefinder, Primos calls, and knives from Outside Edge.

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