Rack Magazine

Collision Course

Collision Course

By John E. Phillips

Just when this Ohio man thought he was out of the hunt, he turned to see a giant bearing down on him.

While children were preparing to go door to door in search of candy on Oct. 31, 2011, Bob Thomas of Seaman, Ohio, was collecting the mother of all treats. And we’re not talking Snickers bars.

“I usually start hunting about the third week of October because that’s when Ohio’s rut arrives,” Bob said. “Our family hunts in Chillicothe, on a 2,500-acre farm we’ve hunted since 1994.”

That part of Ross County is teeming with whitetails, so many that it isn’t unusual for Bob to see between 30 and 50 deer a day.

For his Halloween vigil in 2011, Bob wound up going to a 250-acre tract about 5 miles from the main farm where he’d taken a great buck several years earlier. He was hunting with his grandson, Javin, so he put him in the treestand closest to where he’d seen a monster earlier that year.

“I’d seen a big drop-tined buck on the main farm, and my grandson wanted an opportunity to try and take it. So I let him hunt there, and I went to the smaller property,” he said.

The tract Bob hunted is an island of oak trees surrounded by soybeans and corn. Within the island is a ridge and a low area. He spotted several scrapes and rubs on the way to his stand, which gave him hope. Heavily used deer trails snaking out of the soybeans and corn further excited him.

“This small island of oaks was a primary feeding, breeding and traveling corridor. And all the sign indicated big bucks were using it,” he said.

Bob didn’t start deer hunting until he was in his late 60s. Having no inclination to shoot a firearm, he tried a crossbow and liked it. He was able to shoot it accurately out to 60 yards, and he was confident in the Rage broadheads screwed onto his bolts.

“As I walked toward my treestand, the woods were so dry that whenever I took a step, it sounded like popcorn popping,” Bob said. “I thought if I continued to walk to my stand, I’d spook any deer in or near that oak flat.”

Bob had gone only a little way into the woods when he noticed an old oak tree had fallen across a 4-foot-deep ravine. Rather than plow ahead noisily, he decided to get down in the ditch and rest his crossbow on the fallen tree. From that natural blind, he could see many scrapes and rubs.

“I had only a few hours before dark to hunt,” he said. “In that ravine, the wind was in my face.”

Bob was facing a ridge 100 yards distant. The treestand that was his original destination was 200 yards beyond the ridge. Acorns were everywhere.

Bob, tired of standing, eventually became frustrated over the lack of deer. When he finally heard something, he turned to see a fox squirrel running through the leaves.

Soon afterward, he glanced up to see a monstrous whitetail walking atop the ridge.

What a buck! he thought.

Through binoculars, Bob watched the big whitetail work three scrapes on the ridgetop. Just as the animal started to disappear over the crest, he realized its rack was even more gigantic than he first thought.

The buck was heading straight for the treestand Bob had decided not to hunt.

“When I turned around to place my binoculars on a log, I spotted another monster at 50 yards, walking toward me,” Bob said. “I ducked my head behind the fallen tree, picked up my crossbow, nocked an arrow, took the safety off, and turned on the scope’s red dot.”

Part of the top of the fallen tree was in the ravine where Bob was standing. Through the limbs, Bob saw the buck looking for him and silently urged it to climb out of the ravine and go up the bank.

Obligingly, the huge buck turned and walked up out of the ravine, presenting Bob a broadside target at 50 feet.

“When I heard the arrow hit the deer, I knew I’d made a good shot,” he said.

The buck ran to Bob’s left, stopped and looked back, which planted a seed of doubt in the hunter’s mind. Maybe he’d missed!

Moments later, the deer turned and walked up the hill in front of Bob, who quickly picked up his binoculars. When the buck was halfway up the hillside, it twitched its tail erratically, a good sign.

Bob knew from past experience that bucks do that when they’re hit.

“When the buck walked farther uphill and turned to look back at the fallen tree where I was, I thought, No, I might’ve missed the deer altogether,” Bob said. “But then the buck knelt down on two legs and rolled over on its side.

“My 42-year-old son, Bobby, was hunting 50 miles away from me, so I called him and announced, ‘Bobby, I’ve just shot the biggest buck ever.’ He answered, ‘Dad, don’t go to it yet. Leave the deer where it is, and I’ll come to you to make sure it’s dead.’”

After an hour had passed, Bob pulled his flashlight from his daypack and shined it out in the field toward where his son and grandson had parked their trucks.

When Bobby and Javin arrived, they stayed at Bob’s stand in the dark, while he followed the trail.

“About halfway up the hill, I discovered a little blood,” Bob said. “I prayed, ‘Lord, let the deer be at the top when I get there.’

“Blood was all over the leaves where the deer had laid down just before dark. I followed the trail for about 15 feet, walked around a big tree, and found it in a patch of greenbrier.

“Before taking this buck, I’d mounted 16 others scoring from 140 to 160 inches. I realized this buck was bigger than any of those,” he said.

But it apparently wasn’t the bull of the woods.

“One of the adjacent landowners later told me he had a trail camera photograph of my deer with four other huge bucks. Mine was the smallest in the group,” Bob added.

This article was published in the August 2017 edition of Rack Magazine. Subscribe today to have Rack Magazine delivered to your home.

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