Kansas Muzzleloader Buck

Kansas Muzzleloader Buck
by David Krien

Early muzzleloader season in Kansas has never been fruitful for me until this past year. Hunting Kansas in September is very difficult. Temperatures are often in the nineties with twenty mile-per-hour winds. Often, the success of the hunt is measured by the stamina and will power of the hunter. I dream of monster mule deer for the eleven months that I can’t hunt and obsess for the four weeks that I am allowed to hunt. In Kansas, you are allowed two weeks in September and, if unsuccessful, you can continue to hunt for two weeks during rifle season in December.

This year started with a different twist, the temperature was mild and it was rainy. These were the best conditions I could ask for because they allowed me to read tracks and it was more likely that the deer would move around later in the mornings and earlier in the evenings with the mild temperatures.

Using this to my advantage, I was able to pick up on some very fresh tracks the morning of September 22nd, the last day of the season. Up to this point I had passed up some very nice deer ranging from 175 to the 190’s. I was feeling confident that I had not seen the “Big One” yet and I was also aware that I could still hunt the late season. After finding the tracks and realizing that these were made by a very large buck, I began to follow them. There were three sets of tracks and I quickly realized that it would be very difficult to get close enough to the big one without being spotted by the others. As I crawled up over the terrace where I believed the bucks to be, I was in utter shock at what I found. There stood three very big bucks and one was what I was looking for. As I pulled my binoculars up in disbelief, I started to tremble. The mere sight of a muley buck that size was almost all I could handle. I watched him for three or four minutes, which felt like an eternity, trying to count points and figure out how wide he was. After the fourth minute, the monster buck started to work away from me into a standing corn field. The buck had stood at about 150 to 200 yards away when I lost sight of him. I have the best muzzleloader for the job, my Thompson Pro Hunter would have certainly killed him at that distance; however, I wanted a clean and quick harvest of this old veteran.

After the bucks were out of sight, I sat there, still in disbelief, wondering if that was the end of my hunt. I then decided to try tracking the deer through the corn, hoping that they might reappear on the other side of the field heading to water. I must have walked methodically through the corn for hours and eventually lost the tracks.

As the day rolled on, I decided to take a break, eat lunch and formulate a plan for the evening hunt. I assumed the bucks were still in the corn, and decided to set up where I had seen them that morning. At 1 o’clock, I couldn’t stand it anymore so I went back to the location that I had been at not more than two hours earlier. This time, the wind had died down and it was very quiet. I knew I would have to be very careful to not make too much noise going in. I finally got to my destination around 3:00 and snuggled into a big sagebrush facing the spot where the bucks had been feeding earlier that day. As the day rolled on, I played out every possible situation in my head trying to prepare for what I was hoping was going to happen. Soon it was 3:30, then 4:00, 4:30 came and went, and at 5:00 I was thinking that the day was over. I told myself to just be patient and that this buck was worth the wait. At about 5:30, I spotted the smallest of the three bucks coming out to eat and my heart started racing once again. I waited and waited, but nothing came out behind him. I couldn’t believe he was alone. As I watched the smaller buck eat, I thought I heard something behind me. My initial reaction was to dismiss the sound as hopeful thinking, but after the third time of hearing the sound, I couldn’t take it any longer. I slowly looked over my shoulder and, through the sagebrush, there he stood. The monster buck was fifty yards away from me with the other buck. My heart was now pounding so hard and I was shaking so bad, I didn’t know if I could even function.

I slowly rolled over onto my stomach, trying not to alarm the buck that was standing in front of me so that I could get a good shot on the buck behind me. As I laid there on my stomach looking through the sagebrush at this giant, I figured that it was now or never. I slowly got to one knee and, while remaining hunched over, I pulled back the hammer on my Pro Hunter and very, very slowly rose above the sagebrush. As the old buck looked up at me, still chewing on a mouthful of grass, I made a perfect shot. The buck went a few steps and collapsed. I could tell by the way he went down that I had made a very clean harvest of this old giant. The buck that was behind him stood there for a very long time not knowing what had just happened. It was not until I came out from behind the sagebrush that the other buck finally left. As I stood over the big old buck, I couldn’t help but reflect on what a great hunt this truly was and what an honor it was to be able to harvest such a great animal.

Xtended Info:

Hunter: Dave Krien • Location: Kansas • Area: Unit 1 • Guide: Self • Date: October 22, 2006 • Time: 6:00 PM • Temperature: 60 • Moon: New • Terrain: Open fields • Camouflage: King’s Desert Shadow • Gun: Thompson Center Pro Hunter • Bullets: Barnes • Powder: Hodgdon

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