Many of those within my "friends list" are aware at least partially of my encounters with a buck I kindly refer to as DDT (Double Drop-tine.)

I've never fully put my encounter(s) with him down into one story, so since I have a Blog area that's kind of lacking, and because it's a "rainy day," I'm bored, so I'll cover the bow season that was 2004, one spent chasing my arch nemesis, DDT!

For background, I don't typically gun hunt anymore for deer. After spending my youth predominantly "slug-hunting," and after thousands of rounds fired "down range" while in the Army, gun hunting just doesn't present the same challenge and/or draw for me as it once did. So, for the past 5 years, I've focused 99% of my deer hunting efforts as "bow only."

My experience with DDT came in the 2004 archery season in Illinois. It was my second season back hunting in Illinois after 10 years spent "roaming," LOL. 

My first season back, I decided to split my time between hunting our farm, and reacquainting myself with some old haunts in Shawnee National Forest.

By 2004, I was decided on focusing on Shawnee 90% of my time afield. 

On the first weekend of November, we had our first "decent" cold front coming through. It was bringing some steady rains with it, but also the promise of cooler weather. The "rut" sign was just starting to show up, and I decided I'd tough out the rain and head over to Shawnee.

I spent that Saturday afternoon sitting in a steady downpour overlooking a small powerline. The County keeps about a 12-foot wide strip directly under the powerline cleared, and it serves as a natural travel corridor for deer. 

Since it had been quite some time since I had hunted this area, I used October mostly as a means to slowly get my bearings back. I figured to hunt "the bottoms" for a few weeks, then slowly work my way back into the big timber as the rut neared.

Anyway, that Saturday afternoon was a slow and wet "hunt." With about 30 minutes of daylight left, I caught movement to my left. Coming right up the cut-through was a lone deer. When I first saw him, I couldn't actually make him out, as his head was behind a scrub bush—but as he eased out and continued my way, I could see that it was a young forky. He passed right in front of me—not 10 yards away. I decided NOT to take him (which I'd later regret!)—and simply chose to watch him go about his way.

As he got about 10 yards past me to my right, I decided to tease him a bit. I pulled out my bleat can, and tipped it over a couple times. At first, he didn't respond at all. Just kept slowly browsing and wandering on his way. The second series of bleats caught his attention, but only briefly.

I ended that Saturday afternoon just watching him move West up the powerline til I lost sight of him.

That made for the second weekend I had hunted the bottoms, and though the area was ate up with sign, I had decided I'd hunt there the following morning, then scout/still hunt North back into the big timber around noon.

I hunted that Sunday morning along the edge of some tall pines. Didn't see anything, and around 11am, decided to climb down and head North working my way back to some areas I had hunted as a kid.

About a mile "in," I found a fresh scrape that was the size of a typical kitchen table, with some HUGE tracks in and about it.

I knew I had found a promising area. This area, known locally as Long Hollow, is a deep hollow that runs about a half mile North-to-South, and then doglegs West for maybe another quarter mile. There are several fingers/ridges that drop off into the hollow, with three prominent saddles in the area. Due to it being in Shawnee, it's all mature timber, with both red and white oaks abundant. It has everything a deer could want, thick spots, deep draws, food, and escape routes in every direction. Due to it's size, and the area overall, it's quite challenging figuring out "where to be" on any given day.

I had found several trails from the various fingers feeding down into the hollow, and the large scrape just happened to be about midway between 3 of those trails.

I made a mental note of the scrape, and the trails in the area, and planned to return there the following weekend.

That was a looooong week! All I could think about was that scrape, and the size of the tracks I'd found.

By the end of the week, I couldn't stand it. Friday evening couldn't have come at a better time, and I was so consumed with the coming hunt that I basically drove the 2 1/2 hours to the farm on auto-pilot, LOL.

Saturday morning found me 25 feet up a tree, about 50 yards South of the scrape. The winds were swirling down in the hollow, so I wasn't fully comfortable with the setup, but figured I'd give it a go.

About 30-45 minutes after first light, with the sun just about to crest the ridge to the East of my spot, I heard footfalls coming down the ridge Southeast of my location. A few minutes later, I located a doe and yearling coming my way. I started playing the usual mindgames with myself:

"you've got no meat in the freezer, and you've already passed a few deer, might want to take that doe if offered."

Of course, I then "reasoned" that this was a promising spot, and that I needed to be patient, so just as I had decided NOT to take the doe, she turned and went up the first finger up the hollow, about 50 yards to my 2 o'clock position. I simply watched her and the yearling ease up the ridge, stopping occasionally to browse on acorns, and just enjoying the sight.

About 5-10 minutes after they'd moved on, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye to my right, in the same area the doe and yearling had come from. 

Turned out to be my lil friend from the previous Saturday. Mr. Forky! Rather than follow the trail of the doe, he took a heading coming right to me. 

I "chuckled" to myself at the notion that for the second weekend in a row, "Mr. Forky" was going to come within a few yards of his demise, and not even realize it, LOL.

Then, about 15 yards beyond where the doe and yearling had cut off and took the trail up the finger, forky got confused. At first, I thought he had possibly winded me, as he just stopped dead in his tracks. 

He stood there for a bit, just looking around. After a few seconds, he snorted. He then started walking in a circle, snorting about every third step!?

Finally, he circled back around to his original trail, and then headed straight up the trail the doe and yearling had taken.

I found Mr. Forky's actions to be quite entertaining, and spent the rest of the morning just relaxing and thinking about how goofy young bucks act in general.

I guess around 10 am, after a couple hours of nothing but squirrels to entertain me, I just happened to glance North up the hollow, in the direction of the scrape.

As if on cue, I caught movement further up the hollow. It didn't take but a second to notice the "wide load" spanning out to each side of the bucks head as he came "nose down" up the edge of the creekbed, steadily heading right at me.

Fortunately, I didn't "freeze up" for long, and quickly grabbed my bow off the hanger, and slowly slid my way up against the tree to a standing position. 

I had a few trees blocking my view as he approached, so I felt confident he didn't see me as I got set up. I slowly peaked out around the trees to my left, and saw him about to cross the creek, at that point, he was about 15 yards North of the scrape.

I had picked my "given tree" for a couple of reasons.

First, to give me a bit of wiggle room in relation to the scrape, considering I didn't know which direction a buck might approach from, I didn't want to be sitting right on top of the scrape. 

Second, with four fingers within 100 yards of me, I chose to set up "center" of them hoping that regardless of which finger or draw a deer approached from, I'd be more likely to get a shot opportunity.

Lastly, I picked this "select tree" because there was a dead-fall about 15-20 yards North of it. The deadfall rested between my tree and the scrape. It wasn't a large tree, and I could tell that rather than go around it, deer had simply been stepping over it. I figured that even a cruising buck would have to slow at that deadfall, which would give me an opportunity to sort of "lead" him, and set up for the shot as he crossed the fallen tree.

Well, my plan pretty much worked to perfection . . . . sorta. DDT never even slowed when he got to the scrape, but just kept on coming, nose down, steadily rolling.

As he passed the scrape, I went ahead and came to full draw! 

The "moment of truth" was but seconds away!

Sure enough, as he got to within a few steps of the deadfall, he slowed his pace, and I moved my pin and rested it just on "my side" of the deadfall. 

This was gonna be it! (At this point, I still didn't realize how big he was, NOR that he had double droptines—I just knew he was a HOSS!)

Just as he got to the deadfall—he stopped!

His head immediately came up, and as I tried to adjust my pin on him, he looked right at me!

At that point, I clearly made out the 7-8 inch droptines! He was an absolute BEAST—and an absolute beauty!

The staredown seemed to last forever, though in reality, it was but seconds. Rather than turn, snort and blow outta the county, DDT simply eased a few steps back, all the while looking at me, then turned, and headed off at a gate up the adjacent finger! He never snorted, never raised the "white flag," he just hurried up the side of the ridge a bit, then slowed, and snuck on up the finger.

Needless to say, my heart sank! I had the proverbially knot in my throat, and I could hear my pulse beating like a bass drum in my ears, LOL!

I had just lived a dream, and "the nightmare," both within a few passing seconds!

You know . . . . the story of the "one that got away."

Then came the salt to the wound. I had "lucked" upon the perfect spot, had been in the right place at the right time, and had my dream buck @ ±20 yards!

Then . . . . he busted me, LOL. The immediate thought that came to mind was how mature bucks like that don't make many mistakes, and I convinced myself that both due to his wits, and the fact that the area was so expansive, a buck like that would NOT take the risk of coming strolling down Long Hollow in broad daylight again anytime soon!

So, the rest of the afternoon is STILL a blur to me. I honestly don't even remember where I hunted that afternoon. I do remember sitting in the cabin reliving the horror to my Father and a hunting buddy that evening. I also remember NOT being able to fall asleep that night, LOL!

Still, either by sheer determination and dedication, or as I like to call it, stubbornness, I had already decided I'd be back in Long Hollow the next morning!

After tossing and turning til probably 2am, I ended up waking up later than I'd wanted.

I rushed to get ready, then rushed over to Shawnee. I was late. It was just getting "light" as I crossed the second set of powerlines, about 150 yards South of where I had encountered DDT the morning before.

I decided "on the fly" to set up further South, figuring I'd try to locate where the doe and yearling, and Mr. Forky, had come from the morning before.

So, with daylight coming down on me fast, I hurried to get my stand attached to the tree, and get some air under me.

As my luck would have it, about 10 feet up the tree, I heard footfalls coming down the ridge behind me! "Crap!"

I didn't need to look down to know that my bow lay there on the ground under me, LOL. Still, I looked down at her thinking to myself, "I need you . . . . "

So, with nothing else to do, I slowly slid down to a squat position on the platform of my climber to "make myself smaller," then peaked back over my shoulder to look up the ridge.

I could still hear the deer approaching, but couldn't locate it behind me.

As the seconds ticked on, I could tell the deer was getting closer, and that the closer it got, I could tell it was approaching dead behind me!

Sure enough, within a few seconds, it dropped right off behind me. I was about 15 yards from the base of the finger. The deer slowed at the bottom, and walked eerily close to the base of my tree. I still had not made a visual on the deer, as I was face planted right into the tree I was stuck in, LOL.

Then, the deer veered North, heading towards my spot the previous morning, but moving at a slow walk. I slowly turned my head around to my right, being careful to keep my chin tucked as tight to my shoulder as possible. At that point, essentially having been "caught with my pants down," I hadn't had time to put on my face mask, so I didn't want to get picked off by moving too fast, or exposing my face.

When I finally got my head swung around, I realized I still couldn't see the deer!

At this point, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. Just as I started to consider maybe it wasn't a deer, it switched directions, cut right behind me again, and headed South.

So . . . . I slowly turned my head back around to my left, and finally got a visual on the "ghost deer."

Imagine this: turns out, it was Mr. Forky . . . . AGAIN!!!!

What are the odds that I'd have this same forky within 10 yards of me on three occasions. This lil dude was flirting with disaster, and was none the wiser for how close he'd come to his end, LOL.

As usual, I just took a deep breath, tried to relax there in my "squat," and watched him as he eased South. At this point, it was obvious that this lil fella really had no "rhyme or reason," he was just out doing whatever, whenever, wherever his legs took him, LOL.

After moving about 50 yards South, to my immediate "left," he stopped and started browsing under a large white oak. 

Needless to say, this was NOT exactly what I had hoped for. I had hoped that he'd simply wander off, and I could then proceed to finish my climb, get secured, and get my bow up where she belonged!

After a minute or two, I realized he was apparently in no hurry to go anywhere, and was content to browse on acorns for who-knew-how-long, LOL!

So, I started weighing the risk/reward of trying to slowly "at least" pull my bow up to me, and possibly even stand up. At that point, I had been in a squat position for so long, my feet and legs were starting to get a bit uncomfortable.

Just as I had decided that it was worth at least trying to pull my bow up, "nightmare #2" happened.

I heard the unmistakable "crashing" of another deer coming down the ridge behind me. This was NOT good news to say the least.

Oddly enough, Mr. Forky didn't seem to notice, or at least care, that another deer was busting down into the area. He just kept browsing.

"This deer" was moving with a purpose. I craned my neck as best I could to look back over my left shoulder, and again, could NOT locate the approaching deer.

Didn't matter, within seconds, it busted right down behind me, right in the forky's tracks.

Rather than turn, it came literally within feet of the base of my tree. I even looked down trying to locate the deer under me!

Within a split second, it turned, and shot straight back the way it had came. By now, my nerves are about shot, LOL, and I just froze.

I peaked over at Mr. Forky, and noticed he had turned into a "yard ornament," LOL. He was just standing there, with his head up, though NOT looking back in my direction. He was staring straight ahead.

The "second deer" went roughly 35 yards back against his original tracks, then stopped!

I then heard subtle steps, and again craned my head around as far as I could back over my left shoulder. That's when I first made a visual on the deer.

About the time I finally got a visual on him, he stopped and let out a deep, throaty grunt!!!!

He just stood there, scanning back down into the flat of the hollow where myself and the forky were both frozen in fear, LOL.

Didn't take but a second for me to verify it was DDT . . . . . . AGAIN!!!!

He stood there like a King for a few seconds, let out about 3 deep grunts, and then, as if on cue, Mr. Forky realized he'd wandered into the wrong area at the wrong time.

He slowly lowered his head, and then started essentially "tip-toeing" South toward the mouth of the hollow.

He didn't fool anyone, as DDT locked in on him, and the chase was on!!!!

What a sight! I have no way of knowing for sure if DDT knew it was an interloper, or if he was just in the mood to "chase anything and everything," but he tore out like a raging bull on Mr. Forky's tail!

Forky cut North, heading back up the ridge they'd came down, and DDT was right behind him. It sounded like a stampede, as they were busting brush all the way up the ridge.

I swear I think I heard them all the way over into the next hollow to the East, as they were tearing it up something fierce!

After the adrenaline wore off, the indescribable "horror" and heartache set in again.

Man. Words cannot adequately explain the various emotions and thoughts that hit me like a bag of bricks!

I was shaking so bad, I didn't even bother to try and stand up, LOL. Which was probably a good thing, LOL.

After a while, I finally stood up, continued my climb, and pulled my bow up.

Why? I don't even know, LOL.

I guess after figuring the day before that I'd likely never lay eyes on DDT again, only to be proven "completely wrong" less than 24 hours later, I was dumb enough to fool myself into believing that lightning might strike a third time.

Heck, to be honest, I think I was just so dumbfounded and exhausted at that point, I didn't want to walk all the way back to the truck, so I figured I'd sit and enjoy the fresh air.

Well, needless to say, I didn't see a deer the rest of the morning.

The following weekend was the first Illinois gun season, and I knew there'd be at least a few gun-slingers in the area, so I honestly thought I'd return two weeks later to hear "talk about town" of a "massive DDT" having been taken!

I returned the week after that first gun season, headed straight for Long Hollow, and low and behold if I didn't find a gut pile not 80 yards from the tree I was stranded in that Sunday two weeks earlier!

My immediate thought was, "somebody got REALLY LUCKY!"

But, considering it's a VERY "small town," and talk of big deer travels fast, there was hope, as no one in my "circle" had heard any word of a big double-droptine being taken during gun season.

I decided to head on in deeper, and settled about 30 yards from where I first encountered DDT.

At about 9 am, a herd of 8 does came down a finger about 70 yards NE of my spot. They cut due North, and went up another finger.

About 45 minutes later, while glancing back in the direction they'd gone, I saw it. Just caught movement of a deer crossing the creek, heading for that finger.

The sun was up high at that point, and I soon caught the "glare" of bone!

Sure enough, within a few seconds, I could tell it was a big buck. I immediately grabbed my grunt call, and laid on it.

To my surprise, and relief, it was DDT!!!

He had run the gauntlet, and made it through gun season! More importantly, he was still fully engrossed with holding reign over Long Hollow. There was hope!

I tried a few times to coax him in with grunts. He'd look, then lose interest. We played that song and dance a few times before he decided he needed to follow the trail of the does that had passed through earlier that morning.

As he turned to go up the finger on their trail, even from ±90 yards, his massive spread was obvious.

In the end, I saw him another 5 (maybe 6?) times that season, but the closest I ever got to another shot was a good 70 yards.

I have hunted that area the following 3 seasons, and never again have I seen any sign of ole DDT.

I don't know if he went completely nocturnal, wondered off to new stomping grounds, got "ousted" by the "next top gun" or died of old age, but I do know I'll never forget the "season of 04" and my quest to be the one to bring him down!

Even nearly 4 years later, I can still see each of those encounters like it's a movie stuck inside my head. I still "get the rush" just thinking about DDT.

In the seasons since, I've seen a few other P&Y caliber bucks in that same general area—but never let the string go. Just this past season, a "guest hunter" encountered two massive bucks in the same hollow. It's a true "honey hole" to say the least.

Since 04, I've encountered two bucks that would give DDT a good run, including a MASSIVE buck encountered this past November, but I figure DDT will likely always hold the spot of "numero uno" among my list of unforgettable encounters while deer hunting.