 As I slowly turned back, my heart was thumping and my thoughts were racing. "I can shoot him, but we can do better?" It was only our third hunt out of eight. "Should I wait?" He was a wall-hanger to me. I already had two, action-filled hunts and the largest buck that I’ve ever had a chance to shoot, was standing broadside in front of me. He had at least a 16" spread, tall tines, and a lot of mass. Can we really do better? As I finally repositioned myself, I found my 8-point in exactly the same position; he hadn’t moved a muscle.
Last October, I was asked to participate in the first annual "Women-4-Whitetails" hunt on Deer Tracks Ranch in Northern Michigan. I was to hunt with five women hunters from across the country, Tara Bertalan of Michigan, Gray Farnsworth of South Carolina, and Jennifer Dunkin from Georgia, Verona Inabinette of Mississippi and Lynette Boquet from Louisiana. The purpose of the hunt was to accumulate video of women hunters taking a buck of a lifetime.
 The day finally arrived. I was packed and ready, kissed my family good-bye, hopped in my truck, and was off in anticipation of a great hunt. Somehow, the 8 hours quickly passed as I drove through Northern Wisconsin, the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and back down into Lower Michigan in the peak of the fall color change. Beautiful forests, panoramic views of Lake Michigan, waterfalls, and the Mackinaw Bridge distracted me while I headed for the ranch.
Finally, I turned off the highway and onto the gravel road, which would take me to my final destination of Deer Tracks Ranch. Farmland turned to sparse forest. Sparse forest turned to heavy, dense forest. For miles, I drove the narrow gravel road through beautiful, dense forests of yellow poplar trees, vibrant orange and red sugar maple and oak trees, with the dark green of pine trees and cedar trees interspersed between. The last 8 miles seemed to take hours. The more time that passed, the deeper into the wilderness I drove. Finally, the entrance of Deer Tracks Ranch came into view.
 The sun had just set as I entered the ranch. I watched a number of amazing animals graze and pursue each other just outside of the main meeting lodge. It was pre-rut and the deer were very active. My excitement was quickly mounting. I was the first to arrive of the women hunters and quickly became accustomed to the quality of the animals on the ranch. I met with the wonderful staff at the lodge and watched with them, deer that were feeding and rutting within 100 yards of the lodge. Unbelievable bucks sparring with each other, unbelievable racks and unbelievable whitetails. I was overwhelmed. I was speechless. I had not realized that I would be sitting amongst and hunting deer of such quality.
 As the rest of the women arrived, we were taken to our accommodations. It was a gorgeous log lodge, over-looking the river, which cut through the ranch. Hardwood floors, cedar furniture, boulders for sinks, shotgun lamps, deer tracks on lamp shades and counter tops, antler chandeliers, birch bark cupboards with deer antler handles and the list goes on. It was absolutely breath taking. There were elk, moose, caribou, pronghorn, pheasant, deer, and mule deer mounts throughout. An eagle’s nest topped off the half-log stairway to the loft. It was incredible. From the beds, to the dressers, to the railings, to the door handles, everything was rustic and the attention to detail was astounding.
The lodge consisted of four bedrooms and three bathrooms, plenty of room for the six of us. As we introduced ourselves we checked over, compared our equipment, and quickly settled in to our new home at Deer Tracks Ranch. We all knew that 5:00 am would come all too quickly so we said goodnight and tried to get a good night's sleep for the full day of hunting ahead.
We arrived at main lodge at 5:45 am, well before sunrise, for a light breakfast before the hunt. We were each assigned a guide that would accompany and video us throughout the hunt. Gordy, my guide, and I were ready. He had planned our first morning hunt at Maple Ridge. It was very cold for mid-October and snow was falling. I grabbed my bow and we were off. We arrived to the pair of stands around 6:30 and waited for daylight to break. Finally, the forest seemed to come alive. Birds started chirping, and daylight was starting to burn through the darkness. Visibility was pretty good, considering the trees still had most of their leaves. It was definitely pre-rut, as the forest floor was covered with leaf-less scrapes and numerous rubs on the trees.
Off to my left, a small buck was sneaking through the trees. Then, three doe and a small buck appeared in front of me. Another young 8-point snuck off to the right. Then a nice doe came in to feed. Awhile later, three or four more deer came in to feed. The woods had come alive with the break of day and I was just glad to be there. I was wishing they would move in closer, but they chose to keep their distance from our trees.
 I had never hunted a morning with such activity. I had seen more bucks in this first hunt, than I usually see in a couple weeks of bow hunting in central Wisconsin. The snow continued to come down, getting increasingly persistent as the minutes passed. The deer milled around, continued feeding for a while and finally, with the increase in snowfall they decided to move to thicker cover and so did we. All of the deer were out of range and none would’ve been considered a "shooter", but just being out there watching them was great. As we arrived back at the lodge, we found that Verona had taken the first buck with her muzzleloader. It was a beautiful 8-point buck with a 20 ½" spread.
The snow showers that began on our morning hunt continued all day and turned to freezing rain as we headed for the woods that afternoon. I was not looking forward to sitting, uncovered in this weather, but I had come here to hunt, freezing rain, or not. Gordy had moved our stands to a couple of pine trees. If not for a new location, it was for protection from the freezing rain and sleet. We set out early to get into position before the deer started moving in. Our location was a good one. We were situated between a swamp and thick brush with a sliver of hardwoods in between. Our stand was right in the middle of the funnel to the feeding grounds.
We were still getting organized when a yearling came in from behind our trees, then another and a doe. They carelessly grazed within 15 yards of us. A bit later, I saw movement to my right. A buck! It was a young 8-point. He was very cautious at first and then came in to graze with the others. Another smaller buck came in and they all continued to graze less than 20 yards from us. We could not move. There were too many eyes beneath our trees. Finally, after a good two hours passed and as the rain had begun to penetrate our clothing, the doe spotted us in our trees. We both froze and I closed my eyes enough to avoid eye contact with her, while I continued to watch through my lashes. She stomped her warning and blew softly. It was over; they all became nervous and trotted off in different directions. That was our signal to head back for the lodge.
We were stiff, wet, and cold. A case of the shakes came over me as we got on the 4-wheeler. I was chilled to the bone. As we headed back, we kicked up a beautiful buck that was bedded down near the road. He was a trophy class animal and a treat to see. We quickly received the report when we arrived back at the lodge. Jennifer missed with the bow, Gray passed one up while Tara was filming and Lynette and I were still waiting for our chance.
The next morning we set up in a huge, old oak tree on Maple Ridge. There were a few scrapes on the ground and we were hoping that whoever made them would come back to freshen them. A yearling came trotting in, fed a bit, and moved on. Then, there was nothing. I was starting to get impatient when I noticed movement to my left. I nudged Gordy and we watched a nice 8-point walk slowly into our area. He was beautiful, big bodied, and had a lot of mass to his rack. He walked around, checked his scrape and then just stopped, motionless, broadside, sensing that something was wrong. Gordy gave me no reason to think that I could shoot him so I just calmly watched.
His gaze was fixed straight ahead, still motionless. I was admiring him thinking how lucky I was just to watch this deer, how lucky I was just to be here and wishing I had my camera, when Gordy nudged me. He slowly moved his hand into my line of vision with a movement that I didn’t completely understand. I thought he meant I could shoot. WHAT?! I had to be sure of what he meant, so I very cautiously turned to clarify. He whispered, "You can take him, but we can do better." My heart started thumping instantly. "I can shoot him?" I asked again in disbelief and he nodded.
As I slowly turned back, my heart was thumping and my thoughts were racing. "I can shoot him, but we can do better?" It was only our third hunt out of eight. "Should I wait?" He was a wall-hanger to me. I already had two, action-filled hunts and the largest buck that I’ve ever had a chance to shoot, was standing broadside in front of me. He had at least a 16" spread, tall tines, and a lot of mass. Can we really do better? As I finally repositioned myself, I found my 8-point in exactly the same position; he hadn’t moved a muscle.
I didn’t know what to do, wait for bigger or take the biggest thing that has ever stood broadside at 15 yards. I scolded myself "Are you stupid? Shoot it!" The decision had been made. I slowly stood up. The 8-point had turned into a statue, still motionless and his gaze still fixed. My motions signaled Gordy to turn the camera on. Beep, beep. Still, there was no motion from the buck. Thirty seconds later, Gordy nudges me to signal that he had gotten enough film.
I drew my bow, put the kisser button to the corner of my mouth and looked through my peep sight. A branch over his vitals! "Come on! I’m at full draw!" Exasperated, I ever so slowly sat back down, still at full draw, thanks to 80% let-off and put my eye again on his vitals. No branch this time. I held it a bit longer to make sure I was steady and everything was as it should be before I released. I had never shot sitting down and I didn’t want to screw it up. I still could not believe this buck continued to stand there, motionless, while all the commotion went on in our tree.
 Then, I released. I thought I was on. The arrow looked true. But, the buck nearly dropped to the ground as it flew over his shoulders. I was speechless. To this day, I believe he reacted to my shot and my arrow speed wasn’t enough to beat his reaction. There went my chance. We sat there a while. I was disgusted. Gordy was quiet. "At least I didn’t wound him," I thought, trying to make myself feel better. We waited a while, gathered our things, and headed back to the lodge. We quickly found out that Gray had dropped a nice 7-pointer with her bow. A perfect shot through the vitals nearly dropped the deer in its tracks.
The morning quickly passed with camera work on Gray’s hunt. For the afternoon hunt, we decided that since I spooked the buck off Maple Ridge, we would go back to Two Pines and try again. Within minutes, there was action. Gordy was messing with the camera when a little yearling came in, then another and his mother. Probably the same family we had seen the night before. Then a buck from the thicket came in, but the wind was in his favor. He scented us and turned back. Another small 8-point came in along with another six point buck. We just watched as they grazed within 20 yards of our trees.
The 2½ hours passed like minutes. The deer moved on and we decided that it was time for us to do the same. We climbed from our trees and headed for the lodge to check on what the others had accomplished. We had heard a single gun shot earlier and knew that Lynette may have connected. When we returned we found her grinning from ear to ear with a beautiful 8-point buck. He was built like a horse! He had a beautiful rack and weighed in at 265# live weight. She had gotten what she had come here for.
 The cold, windy and rainy weather began again overnight and continued through the morning. Staying in was not an option. There was always a good chance of at least seeing one big buck, but not this morning. We went back to Two Pines for protection from the weather, but the deer had decided to hold tight to the thick cover. There was absolutely no activity in the woods. Just like hunting mornings at home, nothing. We headed in a little earlier than usual to find that the others had turned in early as well.
It was getting down to the wire. We only had three hunts left so Jennifer and I decided to get out our rifles and sight them in. My Remington 30-06 didn’t need more than one practice shot as it was dead-on. Now, I needed to decide what I would be taking with me for the evening hunt, the bow or the gun. Jennifer was taking the bow and both of us would be taking the gun on the last day. I had yet to make up my mind.
The third afternoon we decided to give up on Two Pines and try something new. We decided on the set-up that Bill and Verona had used. There was a small pond near a small feeding area. I couldn’t decide what weapon to take, the gun, the bow, the gun, the bow, finally I settled on the gun. I had only three hunts left and decided that it was time to increase my odds.
Once again, we were only there for minutes when a yearling came in. Then a doe and then another nice eight point buck. Nothing huge, but I would’ve been quite happy with him. I could tell that he was still pretty young yet and knew he wasn’t a shooter. He walked around within 20 yards most of the evening. Then, he would head out 40 yards and come back in. Then a flock of turkeys came in. They walked around clucking and feeding within 20 yards of us for a good half-hour. I thought of Verona and how she would love to be sitting here gobbling with the turkeys.
We were entertained by the turkeys and the small 8 point for a while, when I saw movement to my right. It was the movement of a beautiful white rack glistening in the setting sun, and moving closer to us. A trophy 8-point buck cautiously walked in. He was a huge buck, probably close to the same body size as Lynette’s 265# hawg and what a beautiful rack! I was wishing I had my camera, again. I kept nudging Gordy, trying to get him to let me shoot it. Yet, I knew full well that they needed to keep him around to improve the quality of the herd. He was the largest whitetail I had ever seen at close range. My heart was thumping, even though I knew I couldn’t shoot him. He was a little more reluctant than the others to come in and kept his distance to only 30 yards. He was a treat to watch as he fed and moved on.
It wasn’t long after the trophy 8-pointer came in, that he was dwarfed, and I mean dwarfed, by a monster buck coming up from the river bottom. I thought I had seen some movement in front of us in the thick pines. As the other deer and turkeys milled around, I kept looking in that direction to confirm what I had seen. I saw what appeared to be thick branches swaying in the distance, except these branches were upright, and swaying on this calm afternoon. It didn’t take long to realize that those were no branches. It was the massive rack of an incredible whitetail. He was out about 100 yards and all I could see was his massive rack.
He held his heavy, majestic head high, and with each cautious step, the weight of his rack made his head sway just enough for me to catch his movement. His massive antlers were dark, thick, and unbelievable. I put my gun up to scope him as he came ever so slowly closer. Gordy was a bit nervous when I did that, as he knew as well as I, that I could reach him.
This unbelievable whitetail kept his distance to 80 yards. He must have sensed our presence as he followed the direction of his instincts and simply disappeared back into the river bottom. I was thrilled. I had been given the chance to see one of the best deer on the ranch! If I was to go home empty handed, I didn’t care. The opportunity to hunt with five other women, a great staff and to watch this quality animal at Deer Tracks Ranch was simply enough of a reward for me. Eventually, the sun set and darkness crept in. We climbed from our trees completely satisfied with the experience and left wondering what the last and final day would bring.
The last morning came all too quickly. The pressure was on for Jennifer and I to take our deer. We decided to head back to the Pond and try our luck there again. I had my rifle and was more than ready to harvest a deer. We waited for a while before any activity developed. Finally, a small 6-point moved through and another forked buck passed through shortly after. We were disappointed and thought we would try something different. Gordy took me to an area that usually produced with rattling. He rattled while I stood, ready for action. Nothing. It was the first time that he did not produce a buck by rattling. We shrugged our shoulders and headed back for the lodge.
The final hunt was right around the corner and Jennifer, Tara, and I still hadn’t taken anything. Tara was behind the camera most of the time, so she had an excuse. Verona and Lynette had become restless. They had taken their deer and had waited out the last few hunts. Gordy and I were undecided as to where to sit. I was admittedly uncomfortable in the ladder stands with my rifle so I suggested that we sit in a rifle stand for the final hunt. Gordy agreed and we invited Verona and Lynette to squeeze in for a bit of the action. They didn’t hesitate.
 The rifle stand was on the edge of a field of winter clover, an obviously, well-used feeding area. A buck had already been feeding as we walked to the stand. He watched us for a few seconds and then trotted off. There was a spiral staircase of half logs, with cedar branch railing that lead to the log shelter. We opened the door with the deer antler handle, took our places, and waited. There was no wind, no rain, and no snow to bother us here.
It didn’t take long for seventeen doe and their fawns to congregate on the field. No bucks were to be seen. This was supposed to be pre-rut, but there was nothing interested in these doe. We waited, and waited. An hour went by without a sign of a buck. I was getting discouraged. Then, a single gun shot in the distance signaled that Jennifer had taken a shot. We all hoped that she connected and became more impatient as the minutes ticked away.
I was beginning to feel as if it was over, when Lynette caught a glimpse of movement in the pines about 100 yards out. Finally, a young buck, with another following closely behind it, came to the field. The young one came out right away and the other stayed back a bit to monitor the situation. Finally, he stepped out onto the field. After watching all the deer here for 4 days, there was no question that he was a shooter! I carefully raised the window concealing us in the stand and got ready. Gordy and Verona turned the cameras on while I got my rifle into position and waited for the buck to give me a good shot.
 He finally felt comfortable and trotted up to a group of doe in front of us. They were about 70 yards out when he singled out a potential mate. He separated her from the others and was pushing her to the right hand side of the field. I was just about ready to pull the trigger, when a doe passed behind him. I had to wait for her to get out of the way. Finally, everything was clear. He continued to pursue his doe, pushing her closer and closer to the wood-line. It was now, or never. I steadied myself, took final aim, and squeezed the trigger. Bammmm. He received the bullet, curled from the impact and ran for the woods from which he came. We instantly knew it was a good hit and all celebrated with high 5’s as we gave him some time to expire. It was even more special to share the excitement with new friends. They were just as excited as I was.
We still had some daylight left so we quickly did some camera work. We followed the blood trail to where he lay. He was a beautiful deer. The largest I have ever taken. He had a 15 ¾" spread with a nice symmetrical 8-point rack. He only ran 40 yards and dropped. It couldn’t have gone smoother. We took a bunch of pictures, packed up our gear, each grabbed a leg and loaded him onto our cart and headed back to the lodge. What a way to complete a great 4-day hunt, with a group of friends and a very nice deer.
 This last evening was full of excitement. Jennifer had also taken a beautiful 8-point Deer Tracks whitetail. We were the holdouts; we were able to hunt every day and in the final hours of our hunts we both took our trophy animals.
We all met for supper, told our stories, and reviewed the video footage of the evening hunts. Everyone was excited, yet satisfied that we had all taken what we had come for. The final evenings’ celebration ended all too quickly. We had deer to skin and quarter, bags to pack and vehicles to load before we headed out in the morning.
I didn’t quite know what I had gotten myself into when I accepted the invitation to hunt with a group of women, most of whom I had never met. We had all come from different backgrounds and different areas of the country, but put us all together and we were a great group of women. We became fast friends and connected as women hunters. We all share the love of hunting and great appreciation and respect for nature. It was a hunt of a lifetime, and one that I will never forget. I have my buck on the wall and my pictures framed to be sure of that.
You can visit Deer Tracks Ranch at www.deertracksranch.com
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