posted on December 29, 2013 09:35
George Morrison of Ghent, Ky., doesn't usually measure deer by the inch. He's more likely to consider pounds.
That's precisely why Keith Grenzebach thought his friend George had mistyped the text message he read on Nov. 17, 2012, because George - an avowed meat hunter - doesn't normally shoot big deer.
But it wasn't a typo, even if George had counted one of the many points twice.
George and Keith were hunting adjacent tracts on the second weekend of Kentucky's rifle season. Neither saw any deer that morning. They came out for lunch, and then returned to the woods close to 2:30.
Toward the end of the day, George grew antsy. As much out of boredom as with any strategy in mind, he decided to get down and still-hunt the 300 yards back to where he'd parked his four-wheeler.
"When I reached the top of the ridge, I immediately saw a flash of movement," he said. "There just happened to be a tree nearby with a fork in it. I rested my gun in the fork and, looking down to the left where the movement came from, I spotted a doe."
That he didn't shoot her - and he normally would - was fortuitous. Moments later, he spotted a huge buck rubbing a tree.
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