Memories of a past Maine deer hunt.

[trapoholic]

My parents were from Vermont and relocated to New Jersey before I was born. The tradition of deer hunting and trapping are deeply ingrained in my heritage. My father, grandfather, and some of my uncles had never killed a deer. Their hunting parties would see countless does, but never a buck. At the time, Vermont's deer herd was very poorly managed back then. I can clearly remember going to my grandparents' house in Vermont for Christmas and listening to all of their deer hunting stories. For me, that was as rewarding as my Christmas gifts!

Growing up, my dad would take my brother and I on fishing trips to Maine. When I turned 17, I started hunting in New York with my dad. And we still couldn't put horns on any deer. Then in 1976 after reading Larry Benoit's book, we decided to try hunting in Maine. My dad made a reservation at a hunting camp in Kingfield. At the time any deer was legal in Maine and the deer herd was very healthy. This was before Mr. Coyote showed up in big numbers.

We hunted for a couple of days on bare ground without seeing any deer. Then on the morning of November 11th we hunted for a couple of hours, and then it started to snow. It was one of those snow squall's where the visibility was less than ten yards. I met up with my dad and he suggested we go back to the car for an early lunch. After about an hour, the snow tapered off to flurries leaving about two inches of fresh snow. We drove up the logging road aways and my dad suggested we try this spot. It was a big clear cut on one side and spruce forest on the other side of the road. I worked my way across the clear cut while my dad went into the spruce.

When I got to the back edge of the clear cut, I slowly made my way into a thick, dark cedar swamp. I had only gone about 30 yards when I found a fresh deer bed where a small deer had just waited out the snow squall minutes earlier. With any deer being legal and no one in our family ever getting a deer, I was going to take this small doe. I carefully followed the small deer track leading out of the deer bed. I would take three steps, look around, three more steps, and look around.  I followed the track for maybe 50 yards. Then as I looked up from the track, I saw a small deer make one jump, turn around, and look back at me. I quickly threw up my lever action 30-30, pulled back the hammer safety, and began to slowly squeeze off a shot. I must have had that trigger half squeezed when a movement about fifteen feet to the right of that deer caught my eye. It was dark in that cedar swamp and the sky was still overcast from the snow squall. I quickly made out a face of a deer standing there with its neck stretched out looking right at me. Because of the low visibility, I could barely make out the outline of antlers outside of his ears. I swung the 30-30 onto him and put the front bead right on his chest and fired. A buck, what seemed like the size of a horse ran to the left about 10 yards and collapsed. Oh my God! I got him! I said to myself inside my head! I walked slowly over to the buck, and I could not believe my eyes! He was huge! I stood there for what seemed like an hour shaking and looking at the buck. I felt like I couldn't move. My head and eyes were the only thing moving as I looked at this giant buck. I couldn't even bend over to examine the rack.

Then I heard someone whistling through the cedar swamp. I thought it was my dad, and I yelled back-"Over here". It was not my dad but an older gentleman (With a full sleeve of Big Buck patches on his wool coat) who had picked up the big buck's track and tracked him into the cedar swamp. I didn't know what to say! I told him it was my first deer. And I had absolutely no idea how big this buck was! I asked him if he thought if it would go 180 lbs (what did I know)? He replied, "Are you kidding me?". Then I said "ok-150"? He then said this buck will go 230-240 !!!

He was a true Maine woodsman and showed me how to field dress my buck. My dad showed up shortly after that and we dragged that deer until dark. And left the buck in the woods overnight. I do not think that I got even one minute of sleep that night! We went back the next day and dragged from dawn till late afternoon. We brought the buck to the General Store to get him weighed and tagged. It was already after dark by then and a small crowd of hunters had circled around us as the buck was being weighed. A couple of guys commented that I couldn't have shot that buck and that it was my dad's buck. As I told the crowd the story about the other hunter tracking the buck, another guy called out-"It was probably Larry Benoit!". Another guy called out-"Take a good look at that buck, because it's going to be a long time before you shoot another one like that". The buck tipped the scale at an even 200 lbs. I had shot it the previous morning, so it probably lost a few pounds overnight.

It was the hunt of a lifetime for me! And I got to share it with my dad. I remember every event of that day like it was yesterday!

[kohunter]

Awesome story!

[JD48]

Great story, great buck

[DougM]

Did that big buck go in the trunk? 

[Devil Horns]

Great read! Great buck!

[trapoholic]

22 minutes ago, DougM said:

Did that big buck go in the trunk? 

Yes, actually a lot of people hunted from cars back then.

Years ago, during the deer season in Maine, there would be a sign on Interstate 95 South, stating "Cars with Deer Exit Here". And the sign would direct cars into a Service Area. This picture was taken at a Service Area. A biologist would remove a back tooth from the deer to age the deer. They would send you a post card a couple of months later with the result. This buck was 13 years old!!!

Edited December 11, 2024 by trapoholic

[hvnj]

Love the story and the pictures.  Can’t believe we used to all hunt in denim jeans with cotton long johns back in the day.  

[DougM]

Laying on the ground I didn't think he would fit! Trapped out of my Z28 in the 70's. Just how we did it back then.

[BowhunterNJ]

Great buck and story!  Really felt like "the good old days" when reading it.  Miss the simplicity of hunting sometimes.

[trapoholic]

15 minutes ago, DougM said:

Laying on the ground I didn't think he would fit! Trapped out of my Z28 in the 70's. Just how we did it back then.

I trapped out of my 1974 VW Beatle for years

[trapoholic]

19 minutes ago, hvnj said:

Love the story and the pictures.  Can’t believe we used to all hunt in denim jeans with cotton long johns back in the day.  

Yes, blue jeans and open sighted lever action rifles. It was much colder back then. And we killed a lot of whitetails.

[Cousin Brown]

Awesome

[Recurve hntr]

Great story. Love the pics.

[Nomad]

Great story.   

See how easy it is.  Walk into the woods, find a track and kill a big buck.

What did you do with the buck?  Mount, plaque?

[rocky]

Great story, I could almost smell the pine. I cut my teeth hunting the big woods of Maine when I was young. When I started hunting the MidWest I got spoiled seeing so many deer compared to there. Last year I did not draw a MidWest tag so I decided to go up there for the first time in over 25 years or so and I am glad I did. Those big woods will humble you. I think I only found 4-5 scrapes and about that many rubs and I covered many miles doing so. I did have a shot at a little buck, but that is not why I went to Maine.