For Ben Knisley, a "good" deer season is defined by how much time he's able to spend in the woods with family and friends. Filling a tag always comes second to the young Minnesotan, and he's not picky when opportunity knocks.

The 2006 season was good on both counts. Not only did Ben shoot a buck (a serious understatement), but he also got to share the hunt with his Uncle Dick.

Ben rolled out of the sack before sunrise on Nov. 4, eager to hunt the family farm he'd prowled since he was a kid. He was greeted by bitter cold, not unusual for that time of year in Minnesota.

He hunted hard all morning, checking all the spots where he had seen deer in years past. The deer, however, were nowhere to be seen. Around noon, Ben decided to leave and grab a bite to eat. He also was ready for a change of scenery for his afternoon hunt.

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Eighteen-year-old Steve Hunt of Sterling, Ohio, spends a lot of time hunting with his grandfather, Skip Johnson. On Dec. 27, 2006, opening day of the late muzzleloader season, the two were accompanied by a couple of Steve's friends.

Since Steve had shot a doe in the early gun season, he gave up his usual spot to one of his friends, while he headed for the other side of the road. By 7:15 that morning, he'd picked out a tree to break his outline and had sat down beside it.

There wasn't much activity during the first hour, but then Steve heard a shot pretty close, which brought him to his feet. 

While surveying the area, he glanced behind him to see a buck at a mere 50 yards. Without bothering to evaluate antlers, he shouldered his .50-caliber inline, put the crosshairs on the animal's shoulder and squeezed the trigger. After the smoke dissipated, he saw that his first-ever buck was lying on the ground.

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Indiana hunter Brad Thurman was sure the magic of the day was about to pull a disappearing act...

The bedded buck flicked an ear and lifted its chin a couple of times as if nodding, checking for scent. Brad's belly-crawling through the meadow ceased, leaving him in an awkward position. He let his eyes roll right to see what had caught the buck's attention.

Brad had already crawled about 100 yards, low as a lioness in the grass, using one pressed-down furrow left by an ATV. Since daybreak, he'd watched the buck, first chasing and then bedding with a doe about 200 yards from his treestand.
Three hours later, with the deer lying in the same place and the wind perfect, Brad had decided to make a move.

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Story by Troy Seidel (As told by Lane Johnson)

BTR Score: 179

Photo: Lane Johnson and his friends might have unwillingly donated their venison to the coyotes in Saskatchewan last fall, but the three amigos left the province with three sets of antlers. Lane took the largest back home to North Dakota.

October 2006 marked the second time I'd hunted with Jim Lake Outfitters in Saskatchewan. It was my friend Don's 15th journey across the border for a week of goose and deer hunting.

The plan was to join friends on the decoyed fields in the mornings, and then finish our days in deer stands -- me and another buddy, Lynn, with muzzleloaders and Don with his bow.

My first stint was in a ground blind beside an alfalfa field. After seeing only a couple of does, I became restless and decided to stalk my way back to the drop-off point. En route, I took cover alongside some alfalfa bales and glassed for deer in the adjoining fields.

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Jimmy Ray Eppley, at the young age of 15, feels like he is a seasoned hunter. Having hunted since age 7 and harvesting sufficient venison to feed the family at least twice per month for the last six seasons, he is a proud young man.

His first deer in 1999 was a 5-pointer, followed in 2002 by a 7-pointer (with a 17 1/2-inch inside spread). In 2004, he shot an 8-pointer. And he’s taken several does in between. None of these, however, will be as fondly remembered as the ’05 season’s bounty.

“I thought it was a big 10-pointer, but I couldn’t see it clearly,” Jimmy admitted. “I had a hole the size of a quarter and only a neck shot. I squeezed the trigger, and, even in the smoke, I could see the tail twitching. I knew I got it!”

Jimmy left his rifle and ran to the deer lying in the small creek.

“After that, I just ran back to the truck to get my Grandpa, but I couldn’t find him. So I got a knife and ran back to the deer, but it was GONE!” he added.

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