Jeremy Conrad Buck

Story:

COYOTES vs. DERANGED DEER HUNTER

Published: Winter 2019-2020

By: Edson B. Waite, Jr.

     A decade of managing property for big deer rewarded Jeremy Conrad with his best-ever buck last fall.

     That his neighbors shared his goals helped.

     “My philosophy and the neighboring landowners’ goals are the same.  The overall aim is to grow some mature deer carrying lots of bone,” Jeremy said.

     Job No.1 is to let the bucks weather a few seasons.

     “Four and a half years ago, we were seeing a nice buck with a small, but easily distinguishable basket rack. The guys who hunt with me, along with the neighbors, agreed to let it grow so we could see what it becomes.

     “After the first year passed, the buck showed considerable growth.  It might’ve had a rack in the 140s,” he continued.  “In another couple of years, in 2016, it was well into the 160s.  There was no longer a need to let it walk.”

     One of Jeremy’s friends mistook this deer  for another buck during a snowstorm in 2015.  He shot and clipped it, but the animal survived.

     When the whitetail was declared a shooter in 2016, a neighbor wounded it.

     “He’d shot the buck on his property, but it had crossed over to my land,” Jeremy said.  “I granted him permission to look for it.  When I asked what deer he had shot, he sent me a text showing this 160-something deer.”

      The guy spent many hours looking for the presumed dead deer, but he never found it.  Everyone assumed the animal had gone off to some deep dark place to die in peace, at least until it began showing up on trail cam pics on the neighbor’s land Its sheds were found the following spring, too.

     “In 2017, all bets were off; the deer was fair game, and he was carrying at least 180 inches of bone,” Jeremy  said.  “It represented the best we had on all the adjacent farms.”

     Understandably, the deer was No. 1 on Jeremy’s list.  And he came very close – about 28 yards – to getting it.

     “The wind wasn’t the greatest that day, but I thought my scent-control efforts would compensate,” he said.

     “I was watching my left side when I heard a noise to my right.  The buck was coming, and it stopped only 28 yards away,” he continued.  “I had no shot, though, as the deer was behind a big tree.  Only its head and butt were visible.”

  “I was ready to take the shot whenever it stepped forward, but that never happened.  The buck must have sensed something was wrong because it turned slightly and walked straight away from me.  The tree – the only cover around – was directly between us.”

     “I never saw the deer again that year, but we continued retrieving photos of it,” he said.

     Jeremy got his first photo of the buck’s 2018 rack-in-progress in the spring.  It was clearly going to be even bigger, a serious world-class whitetail.

     To determine where the buck was bedding, Jeremy began rotating trail cams near food plots and mineral sites.

     “Within weeks, I had it narrowed down to a 30-acre thicket of honeysuckle, greenbrier and multiflora roses,” he said.

     “I used a skid steer to open up a 30–square-foot area and created a few paths leading to and from it.  Right away, I started dumping corn and other attractants.  It worked out quite well; this deer became a frequent diner there,” he continued.

     “After it rubbed off the velvet, the buck became nocturnal.  It still fed voraciously, but only at night.  I was putting out about 150 pounds of deer food per week,” Jeremy said.

     The buck hit the bait pile the very first night – night being the key word.

     Jeremy was growing more desperate.  The day before Ohio’s season opened, he added a sugar beet mixture to his buck buffet.

     “My cell phone chirped all night long as the buck kept coming back for more,” Jeremy said.

     The wind was not right for him to hunt from the buffet stand on opening morning, but Jeremy banked on the deer’s love of the beet mix.

    Soon into the morning vigil, Jeremy heard a stick break to his right.

     “I shifted my eyes, but not my head,“ he said.  “There it was, 10 yards away, coming out of the thicket.  The wind wasn’t good for me, but it was for him.

     “I had to let the deer walk under me before I could grab my bow without being seen,” he added.

     At 20 yards, the deer was too close for Jeremy to stand, so he drew his bow while sitting.

     “My heart was pounding. I could see nothing in my peep.  And the bow was going up and down, left and  right, like I had no control,” he said.  “I had buck fever big time!  That was my moment to shine, but I was a nervous wreck.”

     “I took several deep breaths while noticing I was moving up and down as I crossed the kill zone.  I exhaled  one more time as the peep crossed that point and squeezed it off.”

     “I hit slightly high in the lung/liver area with a clean pass-through,” he continued.  “The buck just stood there like nothing had happened.  It seemed like forever – probably only 1 or 2 seconds – before the thing took off straight through the brush.”

    “I was shaking so much that I was afraid I’d fall out of the stand.  I had to get down,” Jeremy added.

     “I sat at the base of my tree to calm down, and then I called my boy out in Kansas, who was guiding other hunters.  He and I agreed we should give the buck a few hours to expire without me pushing it, so I sat there.”

 “After nearly 40 minutes, I could sit no longer.  I went to retrieve my arrow, which was crimson from tip to nock,” he said.

     Jeremy walked in the direction the deer ran, and then he followed blood into the thick cover.  He suspected it was heading to a swampy area be-yond the brush.

    “While following the trail, I heard noises I couldn’t immediately identify, so I slowed my advance.  Pretty  soon, I saw a coyote making the sound.  Then I saw another, and another, and then a fourth.  They were fighting over my downed buck!”  

“Moving clear of the thicket, I yelled to scare them away, but they were not intimidated at all,” he continued.  “That’s when I noticed four more standing on a small rise.”

     “Meanwhile, my bow was back at my tree.  I had nothing but my hunting knife, which I quickly drew,” Jeremy continued.  “Screaming at the top of my lungs, I charged into the small clearing, waving my arms like a mad man.”

     “They were not going to have my deer!” he said.

     The closest coyotes reluctantly backed off when Jeremy came to within 20 yards of the dead deer, but they didn’t leave.

     “I cursed at them loudly while calling some buddies for help,” he said.  “No one could come immediately.”

     “I didn’t want to open the buck to field-dress it.  I figured the additional blood and smell would embolden them.  My only option was to start dragging the carcass back to my stand.”

     “In 30 minutes, I gained maybe 50 yards, and I was exhausted.  I could drag the buck no farther.”

     “Out of desperation, I urinated all the way around the animal, and then ran for my four-wheeler as if possessed by a demon.  I passed by my bow en route.  I had only four arrows in the quiver anyway, and there were still eight coyotes.”

     “I wasted no time getting back to the downed animal,” he continued.  “The ‘yotes were still there and plotting their own next move, I guess.  Fortunately, I won.”