Rack Magazine

Jeff Sims killed his cell phone on Nov. 24, 2012, but not before the entire civilized world — or at least much of Franklin County, Ind. — knew what else he’d killed.

The deer hunter from West Harrison called and texted so many people, he fried his cell phone’s innards. It took only four shotgun slugs to do the same to the buck that caused all the hoopla.

Within minutes of the demise of Jeff’s phone, many more were jamming the airwaves with the same news.

“Before the deer was even out of the woods, my wife and daughter, my wife’s friend and her four kids, and my buddy and his two sons were there beside me,” he said. “It was crazy.”

And he loved every minute of it!

Jeff became a deer hunter late in life. He grew up in Louisville, Ky., the son in a family that didn’t hunt. Magazines were his mentors before he wound up joining a club as an adult.

“I was a pure novice when my wife and I purchased 30 acres in southeastern Indiana in 1998,” he said.
The Sims’ property is mostly wooded, some fairly open, some not so much. Their house is far off the main road.

“The folks we bought the land from, who live in Cincinnati, own another 70 acres around us,” Jeff said. “They don’t hunt, and they hadn’t allowed anyone else to hunt before I came along.

“After we moved in, I wanted to hunt,” he continued. “I had a lot of book learning, but there is just so much you can pick up from a magazine. Seemed like the best way for me to learn more was to join a hunting club of some sort.

“It took a bit of time, but I finally hooked up with one. And with the help of new friends, I first learned to shoot, and then hunting followed,” he said.

Even with teachers and targets, Jeff says he was hopeless with a shotgun. At the trap range, he seldom hits more than two or three out of 25 birds. That, along with the opportunity to spend more days afield, is why he also took up bowhunting.

“I stocked up on all the appropriate gear and even bought a crossbow, which I learned to shoot pretty well, as long as I didn’t get too excited,” he said.

It wasn’t long before Jeff bought into the trail camera craze, and he’s never regretted it.

“Going into the 2012 season, my trail cameras were getting pictures of an excellent 14-point buck. It was also roaming surrounding acreage,  but it seemed to spend a lot of time on my place,” he said.

“I’d heard that a much larger buck was in the area as well, perhaps sporting 19 or 20 points. The neighbors had a picture of it from January, and another neighbor saw it in September on a different property.

“I also collected several pictures of it one night,” he continued. “But the 14-pointer was far more dependable.”

Jeff’s job as a boilermaker sees him building and repairing water towers. Prior to the hunting season, he fell about 15 feet on a construction site and seriously injured his back.

He was given time off — short-term disability — to recuperate.

“As the 2012 season progressed, I spent many hours in my homemade stands on both mine and the neighbors’ 70 acres. My setups are just short of resort quality, since I have the means and ability to construct sturdy steel units,” he said.

With his heart set on the 14-pointer from his trail camera, Jeff passed up numerous small bucks. He saw it once at 60 yards, but twice missed it.

By late November, ready for a change of scenery after 40 days of hunting the same haunts, he began thinking about the 8-acre block of timber flanking his own driveway. He’d never hunted in there because the place is so thick. It’s roughly 200 yards wide and more than twice that long.

“My wife thought I was crazy to hunt in such a small area, but I thought the 14-pointer might be bedding in there,” he said.

Jeff left the house about 2:30 on Nov. 24, climber strapped to his bum back and shotgun in hand. He went in slowly, as quietly as possible, scanning the woodlot for deer sign and for climbable trees.

“Close to the center, I started looking for a tree that wouldn’t require any trimming,” he said. “I didn’t want to add to the noise I’d already made.”

When he found a suitable tree, Jeff leaned his gun against it, shrugged out of the stand and looked at his watch, which read 3:00.

“I then grabbed my gun to move it over to another tree while I attached my climber,” he said. “And the instant I picked it up, I heard a noise to my left. It sounded close, but when I turned I couldn’t see anything, at first.

“Twenty yards away were a couple of very large trees, maybe only a foot between them. As I was looking through that gap, a huge buck stood.

“I had only a small window, but I could see the huge rack and simultaneously knew it was not the 14-pointer; it was big enough, however,” he continued.

“It turned to look at me, as if in slow motion, and I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Jeff said. “It then took several bounds before stopping for one last look.

“That’s when I raised my gun. But I was shaking so badly, I started talking to myself: ‘Don’t blow this … Don’t do it!’

“Didn’t matter, though,” he continued. “The caps were still covering my scope’s lenses. By the time I got them off, I was probably shaking even worse.”

Miraculously, the deer was still there when Jeff raised his gun a second time. Thoroughly rattled, the hunter ran through his mental checklist, which helped calm his nerves.

“I was trying to remember everything I’d been told about using scoped guns: Keep both eyes open … stay calm … take a breath, and let it out … squeeze the trigger. My mind was otherwise mush,” he said.

Meanwhile, the buck was standing still at 40 yards, looking back over its shoulder at the man who wouldn’t shoot. Until he did shoot … once, twice, three times a lady.

“The first slug knocked the deer sideways, but it took two jumps and stopped again, and I shot a second time,” Jeff said. “I fired No. 3 when it began running, and then it hit the ground.

“I reloaded as fast as possible, though my fingers felt fat, and then set my gun down against a tree. I needed air and time to calm down, so I reached for my cell and texted my friend, Mike. The message was succinct: Help! Help! Help! I got the big one!” he continued.

Jeff also tried calling Mike, but had to leave a message. When he disconnected, he got a text from him: Forget you … show me blood first then I’ll come help you track.

Jeff administered the coup de grace a few minutes later.

“I stood there for a while, just looking at it, before I took a picture and sent it to my wife and two of my buddies,” he said. “I got a quick reply from Mike.

“My wife didn’t believe me, at first. She said, ‘I know you didn’t shoot it. You can’t shoot!’

“I told her, ‘Well, I didn’t shoot it, honey. My gun jammed, so I jumped out of the tree and stabbed it in the neck with my knife.’

‘“No, really, what happened?’ she asked. And so I told her the story,” he grinned.

Hunter: Jeff Sims
BTR Score: 197 7/8
Shotgun
Irregular

– Photos Courtesy Jeff Sims

This article was published in the Winter 2013 edition of Rack Magazine. Subscribe today to have Rack Magazine delivered to your home.

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