Never underestimate a 21-year-old college student’s willpower.
Clay Craft’s choo choo might’ve jumped the track before and after his encounter with a giant whitetail a couple of months ago, but he somehow found the rails just long enough to end his season three days out of the gate.
Clay was hunting his family’s 115 acres in Douglas County, an hour’s drive from home, on Sept. 15.
“A cold front had come through the day before, bringing a nice 10-degree temperature drop. I called my dad, and he said it was going to be really hot the next 10 days, so we ought to hunt while it’s cool,” he told Gita Smith, who’s writing the story for Rack magazine.
Clay chose to hunt from his favorite 15-foot-high treestand that evening, which faces both soybean and cornfields. Unlike the previous day, the breeze was perfect. His father was in a different stand.
The younger Craft’s hopes were high because the buck at the top of his wish list had walked in front of two nearby trail cams three days earlier and on the 14th as well, all while the sun was shining.
“About 6:40, I saw four does at 250 yards. They walked toward me, following a lane between the crop fields, and then they fed in the beans until 7:15. They kept looking in the woods to my right. Looking hard,” he said.
The next arrivals were a small buck and a doe, following the same lane. While Clay was looking at them, the giant buck entered the beans about 70 yards to his right.
“Watching the big buck made me feel a little dizzy,” he admitted. “I could see kickers off the antlers’ left P2, so I knew which one it was. The rack was taller and more massive than we’d anticipated.”
Clay knew he was becoming unhinged. It wasn’t easy to stop staring at the monstrous whitetail through his binoculars, but he finally realized he had to take them away from his eyes.
Eventually, the unsuspecting buck came to within 30 yards.
Hearing his dad’s voice in his head, admonishing him to settle down, Clay did just that. He was dead-calm for as long as it took to draw, aim and release the arrow. Afterward, he could barely hold onto his bow.
“I had to use both hands. That’s how hard I was shaking,” he said. “After I put my bow back on its hook, I couldn’t find the deer when I picked up my binocs.”
His worries were unfounded, however. His father was at his side when they recovered the 15-pointer, which had managed to run only 100 yards before collapsing.
The rack has been rough-scored at 189 inches.
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