posted on December 03, 2012 07:59
If you tried to call someone in Columbus, Ohio, between 7:00 and 8 p.m. on Oct. 18, 2011, and got an "all circuits are busy" message, blame Ronnie Stevens.
By the time he'd finished calling all his friends that evening, his telephone was smoking; there was no skin left on his dialing thumb; and he was perilously close to having laryngitis. It's a wonder he didn't lose track of who knew and who didn't know that he'd let the air out of a world-class whitetail.
"I called pretty much everyone in Ohio," he grins.
The bowhunter made short work of putting an arrow through his heart's desire during his first stint in a new stand, although the 25 days leading up to that long anticipated encounter were anything but routine.
On the way back home from his son's volleyball game on opening day of bow season, he spotted a bachelor group of very nice bucks feeding in a bean field. One was an incredible 10-pointer he thought would easily tally 180 inches.
So smitten with the deer, Ronnie found out who owned the property and gained permission to hunt it, which would've been okay except that the nearby village had a "no projectile" ordinance (as applicable to broadheads as it is bullets).
After trying and failing to persuade city officials to allow him to hunt that farm, he wound up having to seeking permission to hunt another landowner's property -- outside the village's jurisdiction -- across the road.
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