posted on November 22, 2010 09:36
By Mike Handley
Kevin Petrzilka’s buck
Unseasonably warm weather seemed to keep the mature bucks off their feet during daylight hours while I was bowhunting in Nebraska Nov. 7-11. But the tee-shirt temperatures improved the following week.
Seven days after I left Pawnee County and drove into Kansas, a Brainard man shot what could be a new state-record Typical, according to the Omaha World-Herald. Fifty-year-old Kevin Petrzilka’s buck, taken during a hastily orchestrated man-drive on Nov. 19, has a green score of 203 4/8.
Petrzilka shot his deer in Saunders County, the same county that yielded the reigning (B&C) record taken in 1983, the newspaper said.
I don’t know how many trail cameras are stolen each year, but I do know it happens. Regardless of the likelihood or frequency, fear of theft is probably the No. 1 reason hunters are reluctant to buy them.
In the spirit of snickering at the guy who blasts past you in the fast lane, only to be pulled over for speeding a mile or two down the road, I offer this delicious dessert ... or example of “just deserts,” which is grammatically correct for “something deserved.”
Police in Mariemont, Ohio, were able to nab a guy who illegally discharged a handgun only because he also stole a trail camera. Seems the police, who’d been notified of several similar thefts since 2008, had put out their own camera equipped with a GPS transmitter just a few hours before it was taken.
According to a story in the Lancaster Eagle Gazette earlier this month, the police were on the phone with a bowhunter, who was reporting shots fired, when they noticed their trail camera (which had been in the vicinity of the shooting) was moving along Sumter Avenue in Anderson Township. The man was arrested and charged with trespassing, discharging a firearm and theft.
“It (the camera) led us right to him,” Police Chief Richard Hines said, adding that it hadn’t been 24 hours since the unit was attached to a tree. The local television station reported that the camera had been in place only eight hours.
Ain’t life grand?